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THE    WORKS 


OF 


FRANCIS    BACON 


THE 

WORKS 


OF 

FRANCIS    BACON, 

BARON  OF  VERULAM,  VISCOUNT  ST.  ALBANS,  AND 
LORD  HIGH  CHANCELLOR  OF  ENGLAND. 

Collected  ano  ISUJteO 

BY 

JAMES     SPEDDING,   M.  A. 

OF   TRINITY   COLLEGE,    CAMBRIDGE; 

ROBERT    LESLIE    ELLIS,  M.A. 

LATE  FELLOW   OF  TRINITY   COLLEGE,   CAMBRIDGE; 
AND 

DOUGLAS    DENON    HEATH, 

BARRISTER-AT-LAW;     LATE   FELLOW  OF  TRINITY    COLLEGE,    CAMBRIDGE. 

VOLUME   IX. 

BEING 

TKANSLATIONS  OF  THE  PHILOSOPHICAL  WOSKS, 

VOL.  II. 


BOSTON: 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY. 

StoerstJe  Press, 

1882. 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED  AND   PRINTED  B  ? 

H.    0.    HOUOHTON 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

\  \      " 


70164 


PREFACE* 


THE  history  of  these  translations  has  been 
already  told;  but  as  it  is  somewhat  complicated, 
and  appears  in  some  points  not  to  be  clearly  under- 
stood, it  may  be  convenient  that  I  should  repeat 
it  here. 

The  works  to  be  translated  were  selected  by  Mr. 
Ellis,  and  were  meant  to  include  everything  which 
is  requisite  to  give  an  English  reader  a  complete 
view  of  Bacon's  philosophy.  The  selection  does, 
in  fact,  include  all  the  Latin  works  belonging  to  the 
first  and  second  parts,  and  as  many  of  those  belong- 
ing to  the  third  as  are  not  to  be  found  in  a  more 
perfect  form  in  the  others.  And  though  the 
Editors'  prefaces  and  notes  are  not  reprinted  along 

*  [This  preface,  prepared  for  volume  five  of  the  English  edition,  which 
logins  with  the  translation  of  the  seventh  book  of  the  De  Augmentis  Scien- 
tiarum,  is  placed  here  in  order  not  to  interrupt  the  continuity  of  that  work. 
For  "the  three  former  volumes,"  and  "  the  first  three  volumes,"  read  the 
seven  former  volumes,  and  the  first  seven  volumes;  for  "preface  to  the 
fourth  volume"  read  preface  to  the  eighth  volume:  for"  the  first  320  pages 
of  this  volume,"  and  "  from  the  beginning  to  the  three  hundred  and 
twentieth  page  of  this  volume,"  read  from  p.  191  of  this  volume  to  p.  155 
of  the  next.  "The  third  volume"  of  the  English  edition  corresponds  tc 
volumes  five  (ft  Dm  p.  185),  six,  and  seven  rf  tlri"  edition.] 


VI  PREFACE.          , 

with  them,  yet  the  several  pieces  being  set  out  in 
the  same  order,  and  bearing  the  Latin  titles  on  the 
top  of  each  leaf,  it  will  be  easy  to  find  them  by 
reference  to  the  corresponding  titles  in  the  three 
former  volumes.  So  that  those  who  cannot  read 
the  Great  Instauration  in  the  original  may  neverthe- 
less have  the  full  benefit  of  all  the  explanatory 
and  illustrative  matter  contained  in  this  edition. 

Of  the  style  of  translation  which  has  been  at- 
tempted, I  have  spoken  in  my  preface  to  the  fourth 
volume.  And  though  the  authorship  is  of  a  more 
mixed  character  than  I  could  have  wished,  I  hope 
it  will  not  be  found  that  the  number  of  the  work- 
men has  materially  impaired  the  substantial  value 
of  the  work. 

The  translation  of  the  Novum  Organum  was 
finished  many  years  ago.  The  manuscript,  having 
been  carefully  examined  and  much  corrected,  first 
by  myself,  and  afterwards  by  Mr.  Ellis,  remained 
in  my  hands  pending  the  completion  of  the  first 
three  volumes;  and  was  ultimately,  for  reasons  with 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  trouble  the  reader,  com- 
mitted entirely  to  my  charge.  In  carrying  it 
through  the  press,  I  felt  myself  at  liberty  to  mako 
whatever  alterations  I  pleased ;  and  therefore,  if  any 
errors  remain,  I  must  consider  myself  answerable 
for  them. 

The  task  of  translating  the  remainder  was  en- 
trusted to  Mr.  Francis  Headlam,  of  University 


PREFACE.  vii 

College,  Oxford ;  and  I  hoped  that  my  part  in  it 
would  be  no  more  than  that  of  a  critic  :  I  was  to 
revise  his  manuscript,  find  faults,  and  suggest  im- 
provements, leaving  him  to  deal  with  my  sugges- 
tions upon  his  own  responsibility,  according  to  his 
own  judgment.  In  tbis  manner  the  first  3^0  pages 
of  this  volume  were  executed.  But  the  progress 
of  the  sheets  through  the  press  (which  was  still 
engaged  with  the  third  volume)  was  slow ;  and 
before  it  could  proceed  further,  Mr.  Headlam  was 
called  upon  to  fulfil  an  engagement,  which  detained 
him  on  the  continent  for  the  rest  of  the  year ;  upon 
which  he  agreed  to  leave  his  manuscript  with  me, 
to  be  dealt  with  as  I  thought  fit.  I  used  my  judg- 
ment without  any  restraint ;  and  as  I  had  certainly 
full  opportunity  to  remove  all  defects,  it  is  my  fault 
if  I  have  either  introduced  any  that  were  not  there, 
or  left  any  that  were. 

It  will  be  understood,  therefore,  that  the  transla- 
tion of  the  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth  books  of  the 
De  Augmentis  Scientiarum.  of  the  Historia  Ven- 
torum,  and  the  Historia  Vitce  et  Mortis  —  extend- 
ing from  the  beginning  to  the  three  hundred  and 
twentieth  page  of  this  volume — is  all  for  which  the 
final  responsibility  rests  with  Mr.  Headlam.  With 
the  translation  of  the  Novum  Organum  he  had 
nothing  to  do ;  and  the  alterations  which  I  made  in 
his  manuscript  of  the  rest  were  not  seen  by  him 
until  they  were  printed. 


viii  PREFACE. 

With  regard  to  the  method  observed  in  the  trans- 
lation, I  have  only  to  add,  on  his  behalf,  that  he 
agrees  with  what  I  have  said  on  that  subject  in  my 
preface  to  the  fourth  volume  —  that  in  translating 
the  De  Augmentis,  his  object  has  been  to  adopt,  as 
far  as  he  could,  the  style  employed  in  the  Advance- 
ment of  Learning,  —  retaining  also  the  original 
English,  wherever  no  further  meaning  seemed  to  be 
expressed  in  the  Latin  ; — and  that  where  the  form 
of  expression  in  the  translation  appears  to  vary 
from  the  Latin  more  widely  than  would  otherwise 
be  requisite  or  justifiable,  it  will  generally  be  found 
that  it  is  the  form  used  by  Bacon  himself  in  the 
corresponding  passage  of  the  English  work. 

J.  S. 


CONTENTS 

OF 

THE    NINTH    VOLUME. 


TRANSLATIONS   OF   THE   PHILOSOPHICAL  WORKS. 

PART    I.  —  CONTINUED. 

WORKS    PUBLISHED,    OR    DESIGNED    FOR   PUBLICATION,   AS 
PARTS    OF    THE    INSTAURATIO    MAGNA. 

PAGE 

OF  THE    DIGNITY  AND  ADVANCEMENT  OF    LEARN- 
ING.   BOOKS  IV.  — IX. 

BOOK  IV 13 

BOOK  V. 60 

BOOK  VI.          .  107 

BOOK  VII 191 

BOOK  VIII 231 

BOOK  IX 345 

NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  HISTORY. 

HISTORY  OF  THE  WINDS 370 

PREFACE  TO  HISTORY  OF  HEAVY  AND  LIGHT       .        .  468 
"                   "               SYMPATHY  AND  ANTIPATHY  470 
"                   "               SULPHUR,     MERCURY,     AND 
SALT  472 

FRAGMENT  OF  ABECEDARIUM  NATURAE  .  .  476 


OF  THB 


PHILOSOPHICAL    WORKS. 


THE    ADVANCEMENT   OF   LEARNING. 
BOOK  IV. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Division  of. the  doctrine  concerning  Man  into  Philosophy 
of  Humanity  and  Philosophy  Civil.  Division  of 
the  Philosophy  of  Humanity  into  doctrine  concerning 
the  Body  of  Man  and  doctrine  concerning  the  Soul 
of  Man.  Constitution  of  one  general  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  Nature  or  the  State  of  Man.  Division  of 
the  doctrine  concerning  the  State  of  Man  into  doctrine 
concerning  the  Person  of  Man,  and  doctrine  concern- 
ing the  League  of  Mind  and  Body.  Division  of  the 
doctrine  concerning  the  Person  of  Man  into  doctrine 
concerning  the  Miseries  of  Man,  and  doctrine  con- 
cerning his  Prerogatives.  Division  of  the  doctrine 
concerning  the  League  into  doctrine  concerning  Indi- 
cations and  concerning  Impressions.  Assignation  of 
Physiognomy  and  Interpretation  of  Natural  Dreams 
to  the  doctrine  concerning  Indications. 

IF  any  one  should  aim  a  blow  at  me  (excellent 
King)  for  anything  I  have  said  or  shall  hereafter  say 
in  this  matter,  (besides  that  I  am  within  the  protection 
of  your  Majesty,)  let  me  tell  him  that  he  is  acting 
contrary  to  the  rules  and  practice  of  warfare.  For  I 


14     TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

am  but  a  trumpeter,  not  a  combatant ;  one  perhaps  of 
those  of  whom  Homer  speaks, 

Xaiperc  K?JpUKes,  Aios  ayyeXoi,  rySe  KCU  av8p<av  '. 1 

and  such  men  might  go  to  and  fro  everywhere  unhurt, 
between  the  fiercest  and  bitterest  enemies.  Nor  is 
mine  a  trumpet  which  summons  and  excites  men  to 
cut  each  other  to  pieces  with  mutual  contradictions,  or 
to  quarrel  and  fight  with  one  another  ;  but  rather  to 
make  peace  between  themselves,  and  turning  with 
united  forces  against  the  Nature  of  Things,  to  storm 
and  occupy  her  castles  and  strongholds,  and  extend  the 
bounds  of  human  empire,  as  far  as  God  Almighty  in 
his  goodness  may  permit.  - 

Let  us  now  come  to  that  knowledge  whereunto  the 
ancient  oracle  directs  us,  which  is  the  knowledge  of 
ourselves  ;  which  deserves  the  more  accurate  handling 
in  proportion  as  it  touches  us  more  nearly.  This 
knowledge  is  for  man  the  end  and  term  of  knowl- 
edges ;  but  of  nature  herself  it  is  but  a  portion.  And 
generally  let  this  be  a  rule ;  that  all  divisions  of  knowl- 
edges be  accepted  and  used  rather  for  lines  to  mark  or 
distinguish,  than  sections  to  divide  and  separate  them  ; 
in  order  that  solution  of  continuity  in  sciences  may 
always  be  avoided.  For  the  contrary  hereof  has  made 
particular  sciences  to  become  barren,  shallow,  and  er- 
roneous ;  not  being  nourished  and  maintained  and  kept 
right  by  the  common  fountain  and  aliment.  So  we 
see  Cicero  the  orator  complaining  of  Socrates  and  his 
school,  that  he  was  the  first  who  separated  philosophy 
and  rhetoric ;  whereupon  rhetoric  became  an  empty 
and  verbal  art.2  So  we  may  see  that  the  opinion  of 

1  Horn.  II.  i.  334. :  —  Hail,  heralds,  messengers  of  Jove  and  men  J 

2  Cicero  De  Orat.  iii.  c.  19. 


THE   FOURTH  BOOK.  15 

Copernicus  touching  the  rotation  of  the  earth  (which 
has  now  become  prevalent)  cannot  be  refuted  by  astro- 
nomical principles,  because  it  is  not  repugnant  to  any 
of  the  phenomena ;  yet  the  principles  of  natural  phi- 
losophy rightly  laid  down  may  correct  it.  Lastly  we 
see  that  the  science  of  medicine,  if  it  be  forsaken  by 
natural  philosophy,  is  not  much  better  than  an  empir- 
ical practice.  With  this  reservation  therefore  let  us 
proceed  to  the  doctrine  concerning  Man.  It  has  two 
parts.  For  it  considers  man  either  segregate,  or  con- 
gregate and  in  society.  The  one  I  call  the  Philosophy 
of  Humanity,  the  other  Civil  Philosophy.  Philosophy 
of  Humanity  consists  of  parts  similar  to  those  of  which 
man  consists ;  that  is,  of  knowledges  which  respect 
the  body,  and  of  knowledges  which  respect  the  mind. 
But  before  we  pursue  the  particular  distributions  let 
us  constitute  one  general  science  concerning  the  Na- 
ture and  State  of  Man  ;  a  subject  which  certainly  de- 
serves to  be  emancipated  and  made  a  knowledge  of 
itself.  It  is  composed  of  those  things  which  are  com- 
mon as  well  to  the  body  as  the  soul ;  and  may  be 
divided  into  two  parts ;  the  one  regarding  the  nature 
of  man  undivided,  and  the  other  regarding  the  bond 
and  connexion  between  the  mind  and  body ;  the  first 
whereof  I  will  term  the  doctrine  concerning  the  Per- 
son of  Man,  the  second  the  doctrine  concerning  the 
League.  But  it  is  plain  that  these  things,  being  com- 
mon and  mixed,  could  not  all  have  been  assigned  to 
that  first  division,  of  sciences  which  regard  the  body 
and  sciences  which  regard  the  mind. 

The  doctrine  concerning  the  Person  of  Man  takes 
into  consideration  two  subjects  principally ;  the  Mis- 
eries of  the  human  race,  and  the  Prerogatives  or  Ex- 


16  TRANSLATION  OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

cellencies  of  the  same.  And  for  the  miseries  of  hu- 
manity, the  lamentation  of  them  has  been  elegantly 
and  copiously  set  forth  by  many,  both  in  philosophical 
and  theological  writings.  And  it  is  an  argument  at 
once  sweet  and  wholesome. 

But  that  other  subject  of  the  Prerogatives  of  Man 
seems  to  me  to  deserve  a  place  among  the  desiderata. 
Pindar  in  praising  Hiero  says  most  elegantly  (as  is 
his  wont)  that  he  "  culled  the  tops  of  all  virtues." * 
And  certainly  I  think  it  would  contribute  much  to 
magnanimity  and  the  honour  of  humanity,  if  a  collec- 
tion were  made  of  what  the  schoolmen  call  the  ultimi- 
ties,  and  Pindar  the  tops  or  summits,  of  human  nature, 
especially  from  true  history  ;  showing  what  is  the  ulti- 
mate and  highest  point  which  human  nature  has  of 
itself  attained  in  the  several  gifts  of  body  and  mind. 
What  a  wonderful  thing,  for  example,  is  that  which  is 
told  of  Caesar,  —  that  he  could  dictate  to  five  secretaries 
at  once.  And  again  those  exercitations  of  the  ancient 
rhetoricians,  Protagoras  and  Gorgias,  and  of  the  phi- 
osophers,  Callisthenes,  Posidonius,  Carneades,  —  who 
could  speak  elegantly  and  copiously,  extempore,  on 
either  side  of  any  subject,  —  is  no  small  honour  to  the 
powers  of  the  human  wit.  A  thing  inferior  in  use,  but 
as  a  matter  of  display  and  ability  perhaps  still  greater, 
is  that  which  Cicero 2  relates  of  his  master  Archias  — 
that  he  could  speak  extempore  a  great  number  of 
excellent  verses  about  anything  that  happened  to  be 
going  on  at  the  time.3  That  Cyrus  or  Scipio  could 
call  so  many  thousands  of  men  by  name  was  a  great 
feat  of  memory.  Nor  are  the  triumphs  of  the  moral 

l  Find.  Olymp.  i.  20.  2  Cicero,  pro  Archia,  c.  8. 

»  Cf.  Laert.  ix.  59. 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  17 

virtues  less  famous  than  those  of  the  intellectual. 
What  a  proof  of  patience  is  displayed  in  the  story  told 
of  Anaxarchus,  who,  when  questioned  under  torture, 
bit  out  his  own  tongue  (the  only  hope  of  information), 
and  spat  it  into  the  face  of  the  tyrant.1  Nor  was  it  a 
less  thing  in  point  of  endurance  (however  inferior  in 
worthiness)  which  occurred  in  our  own  times  in  the 
case  of  the  Burgundian  who  murdered  the  Prince  of 
Orange :  being  beaten  with  rods  of  iron  and  torn  with 
red-hot  pincers,  he  uttered  not  a  single  groan  ;  nay, 
when  something  aloft  broke  and  fell  on  the  head  of  a 

O 

bystander,  the  half-burnt  wretch  laughed  in  the  midst 
of  his  torments,  though  but  a  little  before  he  had  wept 
at  the  cutting  off  of  his  curling  locks.  A  wonderful 
composure  and  serenity  of  mind  at  the  point  of  death 
has  also  been  displayed  by  many ;  as  in  the  case  of  the 
centurion  related  by  Tacitus :  when  bidden  by  the 
soldier  appointed  to  execute  him  to  stretch  out  his 
neck  boldly,  "I  wish,"  he  replied,  "that  you  may 
strike  as  boldly."  John  Duke  of  Saxony,  when  the 
warrant  was  brought  to  him  for  his  execution  next 
day,  was  playing  at  chess.  Calling  a  bystander  to  him, 
he  said  with  a  smile,  "  See  whether  I  have  not  the  best 
of  the  game  ;  for  when  I  am  dead  he  (pointing  to  his 
adversary)  will  boast  that  he  was  winning."  Our 
own  More,  too,  Chancellor  of  England,  when  the  day 
before  he  was  to  die  a  barber  came  to  him  (sent  be- 
cause his  hair  was  long,  which  it  was  feared  might 
make  him  more  commiserated  with  the  people)  and 
asked  him  "  whether  he  would  be  pleased  to  be 
trimmed,"  refused  ;  and  turning  to  the  barber,  "  The 
King  and  I  (said  he)  have  a  suit  for  my  head,  and  till 

1  Diogen.  Laertius.  ix.  59. 
VOL.  ix.  2 


18  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

\ 

the  title  be  cleared  I  will  do  no  cost  upon  it."  The 
same  More,  at  the  very  instant  of  death,  when  ho  had 
already  laid  his  head  on  the  fatal  block,  lifted  it  up  a 
little,  and  gently  drew  aside  his  beard,  which  was  some- 
what long,  saying,  "  this  at  least  hath  not  offended  the 
King."  But  not  to  stay  too  long  on  the  point,  my 
meaning  is  sufficiently  clear ;  namely,  that  the  miracles 
of  human  nature,  and  its  highest  powers  and  virtues 
both  in  mind  and  body,  should  be  collected  into  a  vol- 
ume, which  should  serve  for  a  register  of  the  Triumphs 
of  Man.  In  which  work  I  approve  the  design  of  Va- 
lerius Maximus  and  C.  Pliny,  and  wish  for  their  dili- 
gence and  judgment. 

With  regard  to  the  doctrine  concerning  the  League 
or  Common  Bond  between  the  soul  and  body,  it  is  dis- 
tributed into  two  parts.  For  as  in  all  leagues  and 
amities  there  is  both  mutual  intelligence  and  mutual 
offices,  so  the  description  of  this  league  of  soul  and 
body  consists  in  like  manner  of  two  parts:  namely, 
how  these  two  (that  is  the  Soul  and  the  Body)  dis- 
close the  one  the  other,  and  how  they  work  the  one 
upon  the  other ;  by  knowledge  or  indication,  and  by 
impression.  The  former  of  these  (that  is,  the  descrip- 
tion of  what  knowledge  of  the  mind  may  be  obtained 
from  the  habit  of  the  body,  or  of  the  body  from  the 
accidents  of  the  mind)  has  begotten  two  arts ;  both  of 
prediction ;  whereof  the  one  is  honoured  with  the  in- 
quiry of  Aristotle,  and  the  other  of  Hippocrates.  And 
although  they  have  of  later  times  been  polluted  with 
superstitious  and  fantastical  arts,  yet  being  purged  arid 
restored  to  their  true  state,  they  have  both  a  solid 
ground  in  nature  and  a  profitable  use  in  life.  The 
first  is  Physiognomy,  which  discovers  the  dispositions 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  19 

of  the  mind  by  the  lineaments  of  the  body ;  the  second 
is  the  Interpretation  of  Natural  Dreams,  which  dis- 
covers the  state  and  disposition  of  the  body  by  the 
agitations  of  the  mind.  In  the  former  of  these  I  note 
a  deh'cience.  For  Aristotle  has  very  ingeniously  and 
diligently  handled  the  structure  of  the  body  when  at 
rest,  but  the  structure  of  the  body  when  in  motion 
(that  is  the  gestures  of  the  body)  he  has  omitted ; 
which  nevertheless  are  equally  within  the  observations 
of  art,  and  of  greater  use  and  advantage.  For  the 
lineaments  of  the  body  disclose  the  dispositions  and 
inclinations  of  the  mind  in  general;  but  the  motions 
and  gestures  of  the  countenance  and  parts  do  not  only 
so,  but  disclose  likewise  the  seasons  of  access,  and  the 
present  humour  and  state  of  the  mind  and  will.  For 
as  your  Majesty  says  most  aptly  and  elegantly,  "  As 
the  tongue  speaketh  to  the  ear  so  the  gesture  speaketh 
to  the  eye."  l  And  well  is  this  known  to  a  number  of 
cunning  and  astute  persons  ;  whose  eyes  dwell  upon 
the  faces  and  gestures  of  men,  and  make  their  own 
advantage  of  it,  as  being  most  part  of  their  ability  and 
wisdom.  Neither  indeed  can  it  be  denied,  but  that  it 
is  a  wonderful  index  of  simulation  in  another,  and  an 
excellent  direction  as  to  the  choice  of  proper  times  and 
seasons  to  address  persons ;  which  is  no  small  part  of 
ri\il  wisdom.  Nor  let  any  one  imagine  that  a  sagacity 
of  this  kind  may  be  of  use  with  respect  to  particular 
persons,  but  cannot  fall  under  a  general  rule  ;  for  we 
fill  laugh  and  weep  and  frown  and  blush  nearly  in  the 
same  fashion ;  and  so  it  is  (for  the  most  part)  in  the 
more  subtle  motions.  But  if  any  one  be  reminded 
here  of  chiromancy,  let  him  know  that  it  is  a  vain 

1  Basilicon  Doron,  book  iii. 


20  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

imposture,  not  worthy  to  be  so  much  as  mentioned  in 
discourses  of  this  nature.  With  regard  to  the  Inter- 
pretation of  Natural  Dreams,  it  is  a  thing  that  has  been 
laboriously  handled  by  many  writers,  but  it  is  full  of 
follies.  At  present  I  will  only  observe  that  it  is  not 
grounded  upon  the  most  solid  foundation  of  which  it 
admits ;  which  is,  that  when  the  same  sensation  is  pro- 
duced in  the  sleeper  by  an  internal  cause  which  is  usu- 
ally the  effect  of  some  external  act,  that  external  act 
passes  into  the  dream.  A  like  oppression  is  produced 
in  the  stomach  by  the  vapour  of  indigestion  and  by  an 
external  weight  superimposed ;  and  therefore  persons 
who  suffer  from  the  nightmare  dream  of  a  weighl 
lying  on  them,  with  a  great  array  of  circumstances. 
A  like  pendulous  condition  of  the  bowels  is  produced 
by  the  agitation  of  the  waves  at  sea,  and  by  wind  col- 
lected round  the  diaphragm ;  therefore  hypochondriacal 
persons  often  dream  that  they  are  sailing  and  tossing 
011  the  sea.  There  are  likewise  innumerable  instances 
of  this  kind. 

The  latter  branch  of  the  doctrine  of  the  League 
(which  I  have  termed  Impression)  has  not  yet  been 
collected  into  an  art,  but  only  comes  in  sometimes  dis- 
persedly  in  the  course  of  other  treatises.  It  has  the 
same  relation  or  antistrophe  that  the  former  has.  For 
the  consideration  is  twofold ;  either  how  and  how  fai: 
the  humours  and  temperament  of  the  body  alter  and 
\vork  upon  the  mind  ;  or  again,  how  and  how  far  thu 
passions  or  apprehensions  of  the  mind  alter  and  work 
upon  the  body.  For  the  physicians  prescribe  drugs  to 
heal  mental  diseases,  as  in  the  treatment  of  phrensy 
and  melancholy  ;  and  pretend  also  to  exhibit  medi- 
cines to  exhilarate  the  mind,  to  fortify  the  heart  and 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  21 

thereby  confirm  the  courage,  to  clarify  the  \vits,  to  cor- 
roborate the  memory,  and  the  like.  But  the  diets,  and 
choice  of  meats  and  drinks,  the  ablutions,  and  other 
observances  of  the  body,  in  the  sect  of  the  Pythago- 
reans, in  the  heresy  of  the  Manicheans,  and  in  the  law 
of  Mahomet,  exceed  all  measure.  So  likewise  the  or- 
dinances in  the  ceremonial  law  interdicting  the  eating 
of  the  blood  and  fat,  and  distinguishing  between  beasts 
clean  and  unclean  for  meat,  are  many  and  strict.  Nay, 
the  Christian  faith  itself  (although  clear  and  serene 
from  all  clouds  of  ceremony)  yet  retains  the  use  of 
fastings,  abstinences,  and  other  macerations  and  humil- 
iations of  the  body,  as  things  not  merely  ritual,  but 
also  profitable.  The  root  and  life  of  all  which  pre- 
scripts (besides  the  ceremony  and  the  exercise  of 
obedience)  consist  in  that  of  which  we  are  speaking, 
namely  the  sympathy  of  the  mind  with  the  state  and 
disposition  of  the  body.  But  if  any  man  of  weak  judg- 
ment conceive  that  these  impressions  of  the  body  on 
the  mind  either  question  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
or  derogate  from  its  sovereignty  over  the  body,  a  slight 
answer  may  serve  for  so  slight  a  doubt.  Let  him  take 
the  case  of  an  infant  in  the  mother's  womb,  which  is 
affected  by  that  which  affects  the  mother,  and  yet  is  in 
due  time  delivered  and  separated  from  her  body;  or 
of  monarchs  who,  though  powerful,  are  sometimes  con- 
t  rolled  by  their  servants,  and  yet  without  abatement  of 
their  majesty  royal. 

As  for  the  reciprocal  part  (which  is  the  operation  of 
the  mind  and  its  passions  upon  the  body),  it  also  has 
found  a  place  in  medicine.  For  there  is  no  physician 
of  any  skill  who  does  not  attend  to  the  accidents  of  the 
mind,  as  a  thing  most  material  towards  recoveries,  and 


22  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMKNTIS." 

of  the  greatest  force  to  further  or  hinder  other  reme- 
dies. But  another  question  pertinent  to  this  subject 
has  been  but  sparingly  inquired  into,  and  nowise  in 
proportion  to  its  depth  and  worth ;  namely  how  far 
(setting  the  affections  aside)  the  very  imagination  of 
the  mind,  or  a  thought  strongly  fixed  and  exalted  into 
a  kind  of  faith,  is  able  to  alter  the  body  of  the  imagi- 
nant.  For  although  it  has  a  manifest  power  to  hurt, 
yet  it  follows  not  that  it  has  the  same  degree  of  power 
to  help ;  no  more  indeed  than  a  man  can  conclude,  that 
because  there  are  pestilent  airs,  able  suddenly  to  kill  a 
man  in  health,  therefore  there  should  be  sovereign  airs, 
able  suddenly  to  cure  a  man  in  sickness.  Such  an  in- 
quiry would  surely  be  of  noble  use ;  though  it  needs 
(as  Socrates  says1)  a  Delian  diver;  for  it  lies  deep. 
Again,  among  those  doctrines  concerning  the  League, 
or  the  concordances  between  the  mind  and  body,  there 
is  none  more  necessary  than  the  inquiry  concerning  the 
proper  seats  and  domiciles  which  the  several  faculties 
of  the  mind  occupy  in  the  body  and  its  organs.  Which 
kind  of  knowledge  has  not  been  without  its  followers ; 
but  what  has  been  done  in  it  is  in  most  parts  either 
disputed  or  slightly  inquired ;  so  that  more  diligence 
and  acuteness  is  requisite.  For  the  opinion  of  Plato,2 
who  placed  the  understanding  in  the  brain,  as  in  a  cas- 
tle ;  animosity  (which  he  unfitly  enough  called  anger, 
seeing  it  is  more  related  to  swelling  and  pride)  in  the 
heart ;  and  concupiscence  and  sensuality  in  the  liver ; 
deserves  neither  to  be  altogether  despised  nor  to  ^e 
eagerly  received.  Neither  again  is  that  arrangement 
of  the  intellectual  faculties  (imagination,  reason,  and 
memory)  according  to  the  respective  ventricles  of  the 

i  Diog.  Laert.  ii.  22.  and  ix.  12.  2  Plato,  Timaeus,  p.  71. 


THE  FOURTH   BOOK.  23 

brain,  destitute  of  error.  Thus  then  have  I  explained 
the  doctrine  concerning  the  nature  of  man  undivided, 
and  likewise  the  league  between  the  mind  and  body. 


CHAP.  II. 

Division  of  the  doctrine  concerning  the  Body  of  Man 
into  Medicine,  Cosmetic,  Athletic,  and  Voluptu- 
ary. Division  of  Medicine  into  three  offices;  viz. 
the  Preservation  of  Health,  the  Cure  of  Diseases, 
and  the  Prolongation  of  Life ;  and  that  the  last 
division  concerning  the  Prolongation  of  Life  ought 
to  be  kept  separate  from  the  other  two. 

THE  doctrine  that  concerns  man's  body  receives  the 
same  division  as  the  good  of  man's  body,  to  which  it 
refers.  The  good  of  man's  body  is  of  four  kinds ; 
Health,  Beauty,  Strength,  and  Pleasure.  The  knowl- 
edges therefore  are  in  number  the  same ;  Medicine, 
Cosmetic,  Athletic,  and  Voluptuary,  which  Tacitus 
truly  calls  "  educated  luxury."  1 

Medicine  is  a  most  noble  art,  and  according  to  the 

7  o 

poets  has  a  most  illustrious  pedigree.  For  they  have 
represented  Apollo  as  the  primary  god  of  medicine, 
and  given  him  a  son  jEsculapius,  likewise  a  god,  pro- 
fessor of  the  same  ;  seeing  that  in  nature  the  sun  is  the 
author  and  source  of  life,  the  physician  the  preserver 
and  as  it  were  the  second  fountain  thereof.  But  a  far 
greater  honour  accrues  to  medicine  from  the  works  of 
our  Saviour,  who  was  the  physician  both  of  soul  and 
body ;  and  as  he  made  the  soul  the  peculiar  object  of 

!Tac.  Ann.  xvi.  18. 


24  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

his  heavenly  doctrine,  so  he  made  the  body  the  pecu- 
liar object  of  his  miracles.  For  we  nowhere  read  of 
any  miracle  done  by  him  with  respect  to  honours  or 
money  (except  that  one,  for  giving  tribute  money  to 
Ca3sar),  but  only  with  respect  to  the  body  of  man,  for 
the  preservation,  support,  or  healing  thereof. 

This  subject  of  medicine  (namely  man's  body)  is  of 
all  other  things  in  nature  most  susceptible  of  remedy ; 
but  then  that  remedy  is  most  susceptible  of  error.  For 
the  same  subtlety  and  variety  of  the  subject,  as  it  sup- 
plies abundant  means  of  healing,  so  it  involves  great 
facility  of  failing.  And  therefore  as  this  art  (espe- 
cially as  we  now  have  it)  must  be  reckoned  as  one  of 
the  most  conjectural,  so  the  inquiry  of  it  must  be  ac- 
counted one  of  the  most  exact  and  difficult.  Not  that 
I  share  the  idle  notion  of  Paracelsus  and  the  alche- 
mists, that  there  are  to  be  found  in  man's  body  certain 
correspondences  and  parallels  which  have  respect  to  all 
the  several  species  (as  stars,  planets,  minerals)  which 
are  extant  in  the  universe ;  foolishly  and  stupidly  mis- 
applying the  ancient  emblem  (that  man  was  a  micro- 
cosm or  epitome  of  the  world)  to  the  support  of  this 
fancy  of  theirs.  But  yet  thus  much  is  true,  that  (as  I 
was  going  to  say)  of  all  substances  which  nature  has 
produced  man's  body  is  the  most  multifariously  com- 
pounded. For  we  see  herbs  and  plants  are  nourished 
by  earth  and  water ;  beasts  for  the  most  part  by  herbs 
and  fruits  ;  but  man  by  the  flesh  of  those  beasts  (quad- 
rupeds, birds,  and  fishes),  and  also  by  herbs,  grains, 
fruits,  juices  and  liquors  of  various  kinds  ;  not  without 
manifold  commixtures,  dressings,  and  preparations  of 
these  several  bodies,  before  they  come  to  be  his  food 
and  aliment.  Add  to  this,  that  beasts  have  a  more 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  26 

simple  manner  of  life,  and  fewer  affections  to  work 
upon  their  bodies,  and  those  much  alike  in  their  oper- 
ation ;  whereas  man  in  his  places  of  habitation,  exer- 
cises, passions,  sleep  and  watching,  undergoes  infinite 
variations  ;  so  that  it  is  true  that  the  body  of  man,  of 
all  other  things,  is  of  the  most  fermented  and  com- 
pounded mass.  The  soul  on  the  other  side  is  the 
simplest  of  substances ;  as  is  well  expressed, 

purumque  reliquit 

./Ethereum  sensurn,  atque  aural  simplicis  ignem.1 

Whence  it  is  no  marvel  that  the  soul  so  placed  enjoys 
no  rest ;  according  to  the  axiom  that  the  motion  of 

*  O 

things  out  of  their  place  is  rapid,  and  in  their  place 
calm.  But  to  return.  This  variable  and  subtle  com- 
position and  structure  of  man's  body  has  made  it  as  a 
musical  instrument  of  much  and  exquisite  workman- 
ship, which  is  easily  put  out  of  tune.  And  therefore 
the  poets  did  well  to  conjoin  music  and  medicine  in 
Apollo  ;  because  the  genius  of  both  these  arts  is  almost 
the  same ;  for  the  office  of  the  physician  is  but  to 
know  how  to  stretch  and  tune  this  harp  of  man's  body 
that  the  harmony  may  be  without  all  harshness  or  dis- 
cord. So  then  the  subject  being  so  inconstant  and 
variable  has  made  the  art  by  consequence  more  con- 
jectural ;  and  the  art  being  so  conjectural  has  made  so 
much  more  room  not  only  for  error,  but  also  for  im- 
posture. For  almost  all  other  arts  and  sciences  are 
judged  by  their  power  and  functions,  and  not  by  the 
successes  and  events.  The  lawyer  is  judged  by  the 
virtue  of  his  pleading  and  speaking,  not  by  the  issue  of 
the  cause  ;  the  master  of  the  ship  is  judged  by  his  skill 

1  Virg.  En.  vi.  747.:  — 

pure  and  unmixed 

The  ethereal  sense  is  left  —  mere  air  and  fire. 


26  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

in  steering,  and  not  by  the  fortune  of  the  voyage. 
But  the  physician,  and  perhaps  the  politician,  have  no 
particular  acts  whereby  they  may  clearly  exhibit  their 
skill  and  ability;  but  are  honoured  or  disgraced  accord- 
ing to  the  event ;  —  a  most  unfair  way  of  judging. 
For  who  can  know,  if  a  patient  die  or  recover,  or  if  a 
state  be  preserved  or  ruined,  whether  it  be  art  or  ac- 
cident? And  therefore  many  times  the  impostor  is 
prized,  and  the  man  of  virtue  censured.  Nay,  such  is 
the  weakness  and  credulity  of  men,  that  they  will  often 
prefer  a  witch  or  mountebank  to  a  learned  physician. 
And  therefore  the  poets  were  clear-sighted  when  they 
made  Circe  sister  of  jEsculapius,  and  both  children  of 
the  Sun ;  as  is  expressed  in  the  verses,  —  respecting 
JEsculapius,  that  he  was  the  son  of  Apollo, 

Ille  repertorem  medicinae  tails  et  artis 

Fulmine  Phcebigtnam  Stygias  detrusit  ad  undas; * 

and  again  respecting  Circe,  that  she  was  the  daughter 
of  the  Sun, 

Dives  inaccessos  ubi  Svlisjilia  lucos 

Urit  odoratam  nocturna  in  lumina  cedrum.8 

For  in  all  times,  in  the  opinion  of  the  multitude, 
witches  and  old  women  and  impostors  have  been  the 
rivals  in  a  manner  of  physicians,  and  almost  contended 
with  them  in  celebrity  for  working  cures.  And  what 
follows  ?  Even  this,  that  physicians  say  to  themselves, 
as  Solomon  expresses  it  upon  a  higher  occasion,3  "  Tf 
it  befall  to  me  as  befalleth  to  the  fool,  why  shoidd  I 

l  Virg.  Ma.  vii.  772. :  — 

Apollo's  son  the  healing  art  who  gare 

Jove  hurled  with  thunder  to  the  Stygian  ware. 

*  Virg.  2En.  vii.  11.:  — 

Where  the  Sim'*  daughter  in  her  deep  retreat 
Burns  for  her  evening  light  the  cedar  sweet. 

*  Eccles.  ii.  15. 


THE  FOURTH    BOOK.  27 

labour  to  be  more  wise  ?  "  And  therefore  I  can  the 
less  blame  physicians  that  they  commonly  attend  tc 
some  other  art  or  practice,  which  they  fancy  more 
than  their  own.  For  you  have  among  them  poets, 
antiquaries,  critics,  rhetoricians,  statesmen,  divines ; 
and  in  every  one  of  these  arts  more  learned  than  in 
their  own  profession.  Nor  does  this  happen,  in  my 
opinion,  because  (as  a  certain  declaimer  against  the 
sciences  objects  to  the  physicians)  they  have  so  many 
sad  and  disgusting  objects  to  deal  with  that  they  must 
needs  withdraw  their  minds  to  other  things  for  relief 
(for  "  he  that  is  a  man  should  not  think  anything  that 
is  human  alien  to  him  ")  ; 1  but  rather  upon  the  ground 
we  are  now  on,  that  they  find  that  mediocrity  and  ex- 
cellency in  their  art  make  no  difference  in  profit  or 
reputation  towards  their  fortune.  For  the  impatience 
of  disease,  the  sweetness  of  life,  the  flattery  of  hope, 
the  commendations  of  friends,  make  men  depend  upon 
physicians  with  all  their  defects.  But  yet  if  these 
things  be  more  attentively  considered,  they  tend  rather 
to  inculpate  physicians  than  to  excuse  them.  For  in- 
stead of  throwing  away  hope,  they  ought  to  put  (~ 
more  strength.  For  if  any  man  will  awake  his  obsi 
vation  and  look  a  little  about  him,  he  will  easily  se. 
from  obvious  and  familiar  examples  what  a  mastery  the 
subtlety  and  acuteness  of  the  intellect  has  over  the 
variety  either  of  matter  or  of  form.  Nothing  more 
variable  than  faces  and  countenances ;  yet  men  can 
bear  in  memory  the  infinite  distinctions  of  them ;  nay 
a  painter,  with  a  few  shells  of  colours,  and  the  help  of 
his  eye,  of  the  force  of  his  imagination,  and  the  steadi- 
ness of  his  hand,  can  imitate  and  draw  the  faces  of  all 

JTer.  Heauton.  i.  1.  25:  —  Homo  sum;  human!  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto. 


28  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

men  that  are,  have  been,  or  shall  be,  if  they  were  only 
brought  before  him.  Nothing  more  variable  than  the 
human  voice,  yet  we  easily  distinguish  the  differences 
of  it  in  different  persons ;  nay  and  there  are  buffoons 
and  pantomimes  who  will  imitate  and  express  to  the 
life  as  many  as  they  please.  Nothing  more  variable 
than  the  differing  sounds  of  words,  yet  men  have  found 
the  way  to  reduce  them  to  a  few  simple  letters.  And 
most  true  it  is  that  perplexities  and  incomprehensions 
in  science  proceed  commonly  not  from  any  want  of 
subtlety  or  capacity  in  the  mind,  but  from  the  object 
being  placed  too  far  off.  For  as  the  sense  when  at  a 
distance  from  the  object  is  full  of  mistaking,  but  when 
brought  near  enough  does  not  much  err,  so  is  it  with 
the  understanding.  But  men  are  wont  to  look  down 
upon  nature  as  from  a  high  tower  and  from  a  great  dis- 
tance, and  to  occupy  themselves  too  much  with  gen- 
eralities ;  whereas  if  they  would  come  down  and  draw 
near  to  particulars  and  take  a  closer  and  more  accurate 
view  of  things  themselves,  they  would  gain  a  more 
..true  and  profitable  knowledge  of  them.  Wherefore 

Tie  remedy  of  this  evil  is  not  merely  to  quicken   or 

witc 

lengthen  the  organ,  but  also  to  go  nearer  to  the  ob- 

riv  . 

/act.  And  therefore  there  is  no  doubt  but  if  the  phy- 
sicians would  for  a  while  set  these  generalities  aside 
and  go  forth  to  meet  Nature,  they  would  obtain  that, 
of  which  the  poet  speaks, 

Et  quoniam  variant  morbi,  variahimus  artes; 
Millc  mali  spucies,  mille  salutis  erunt.1 

Which  they  should  the  rather  do,  because  those  very 

1  Ovid.  Remed.  Amor.:  — 

Arts  shall  as  various  as  di?fases  be ; 

Though  sickness  take  a  thousand  shapes,  yet  we 

Will  find  for  each  its  several  remedy. 


THE    FOURTH   BOOK.  20 

philosophies  which  physicians,  whether  regular  prac- 
titioners or  chemists,  rely  upon  (and  medicine  not 
founded  on  philosophy  is  a  weak  thing)  are  themselves 
of  little  worth.  Wherefore  if  generalities,  though  true, 
have  the  fault  that  they  do  not  well  lead  the  way  to 
action  ;  surely  there  is  greater  danger  in  those  general- 
ities which  are  in  themselves  false,  and  instead  of  lead- 
ing mislead. 

Medicine  therefore  (as  we  have  seen)  is  a  science 
which  has  been  hitherto  more  professed  than  laboured, 
and  yet  more  laboured  than  advanced;  the  labours 
spent  on  it  having  been  rather  in  a  circle,  than  in  pro- 
gression. For  I  find  in  the  writers  thereon  many  iter- 
ations, but  few  additions.  I  will  divide  it  into  three 
parts,  which  I  will  term  its  three  offices  ;  the  first 
Avhereof  is  the  Preservation  of  Health,  the  second  the 
Cure  of  Diseases,  and  the  third  the  Prolongation  of 
Life.  But  this  last  the  physicians  do  not  seem  to  have 
recognised  as  the  principal  part  of  their  art,  but  to 
have  confounded,  ignorantly  enough,  with  the  other 
two.  For  they  imagine  that  if  diseases  be  repelled 
before  they  attack  the  body,  and  cured  after  they  have 
attacked  it,  prolongation  of  life  necessarily  follows. 
But  though  there  is  no  doubt  of  this,  yet  they  have 
not  penetration  to  see  that  these  two  offices  pertain 
only  to  diseases,  and  such  prolongation  of  life  as  is  in- 
tercepted and  cut  short  by  them.  But  the  lengthen- 
ing of  the  thread  of  life  itself,  and  the  postponement 
for  a  time  of  that  death  which  gradually  steals  on  by 
natural  dissolution  and  the  decay  of  age,  is  a  subject 
which  no  physician  has  handled  in  proportion  to  its 
dignity.  And  let  not  men  make  a  scruple  of  it,  as  if 
this  were  a  thing  belonging  to  fate  and  Divine  Provi- 


30  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

dence  which  I  am  the  first  to  bring  within  the  office 
and  function  of  art.  For  Providence  no  doubt  directs 
all  kinds  of  death  alike,  whether  from  violence  or  dis- 
ease or  the  decay  of  age  ;  yet  it  does  not  on  that  ac- 
count exclude  the  use  of  preventions  and  remedies. 
But  art  and  human  industry  do  not  command  nature 
and  destiny ;  they  only  serve  and  minister  to  them. 
Of  this  part  however  I  will  speak  hereafter;  having 
in  the  meantime  premised  thus  much,  lest  any  one 
should  in  ignorance  confound  this  third  office  of  medi- 
cine with  the  two  former,  as  has  been  done  hitherto. 
With  regard  to  the  office  of  the  preservation  of 
health  (the  first  of  the  three),  many  have  written 
thereon,  very  unskilfully  both  in  other  respects  and 
especially  in  attributing  too  much  (as  I  think)  to  the 
choice  of  meats  and  too  little  to  the  quantity.  More- 
over with  regard  to  quantity  itself  they  have  argued 
like  moral  philosophers,  too  much  praising  the  mean ; 
whereas  both  fasting,  when  made  customary,  and  a 
generous  diet,  to  which  one  is  used,  are  better  pre- 
servatives of  health  than  those  mediocrities,  which  only 
make  nature  slothful  and  unable  to  bear  either  excess 
or  want  when  it  is  necessary.  Nor  have  the  kinds  of 
exercises  which  have  most  power  to  preserve  health 
been  by  any  physician  well  distinguished  and  pointed 
out;  although  there  is  scarcely  any  tendency  to  dis- 
ease which  may  not  be  prevented  by  some  proper  ex- 
ercise. Thus  playing  at  bowls  is  good  for  diseases  of 
the  reins,  archery  for  those  of  the  lungs,  walking  and 
riding  for  weakness  of  the  stomach,  and  the  like.  But 
as  this  part  touching  the  preservation  of  health  has 
been  handled  as  a  whole,  it  is-  not  my  plan  to  pursue 
the  minor  defects. 


THE   FOURTH   BOOK.  31 

With  regard  to  the  cure  of  diseases,  much  labour 

O 

has  been  bestowed  on  this  part,  but  with  slight  profit. 
To  it  belongs  the  knowledge  of  the  diseases  to  which 
the  human  body  is  subject ;  with  their  causes,  symp- 
toms, and  remedies.  In  this  second  office  of  ^nedicine 
there  are  many  deficiencies ;  a  few  of  which,  but  those 
the  most  glaring,  I  will  propound ;  thinking  it  suffi- 
cient to  enumerate  them  without  any  law  of  order  or 
method. 

The  first  is,  the  discontinuance  of  the  very  useful 
and  accurate  diligence  of  Hippocrates,  who  used  to  set 
down  a  narrative  of  the  special  cases  of  his  patients ; 
relating  what  was  the  nature  of  the  disease,  what  the 
treatment,  and  what  the  issue.  Therefore  having  so 
notable  and  proper  an  example  in  a  man  who  has  been 
regarded  as  the  father  of  his  art,  I  shall  not  need  to 
go  abroad  for  an  example  from  other  arts  ;  as  from  the 
wisdom  of  the  lawyers,  who  have  ever  been  careful  to 
report  the  more  important  cases  and  new  decisions, 
for  instruction  and  direction  in  future  cases.  This 
continuance  of  medicinal  history  I  find  deficient ;  es- 
pecially as  carefully  and  judiciously  digested  into  one 
body ;  which  nevertheless  I  do  not  understand  should 
be  either  so  copious  as  to  extend  to  every  common 
case  of  daily  occurrence  (for  that  would  be  something 
infinite,  and  foreign  to  the  purpose),  or  so  reserved  as 
tc  admit  none  but  wonders  and  prodigies,  as  has  been 
done  by  some.  For  many  things  are  new  in  the  man- 
ner and  circumstances  which  are  not  new  in  the  kind ; 
and  if  men  will  apply  themselves  to  observe,  they  will 
find  even  in  things  which  appear  commonplace  much 
that  is  worthy  of  observation. 

Likewise  in  anatomical  inquiries,  those  things  which 


32  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

pertain  to  man's  body  in  general  are  most  diligently 
observed,  even  to  curiosity  and  in  the  minutest  par- 
ticulars ;  but  touching  the  varieties  which  are  found  in 
different  bodies,  the  diligence  of  physicians  falls  short. 
And  therefore  I  say  that  Simple  Anatomy  is  handled 
most  lucidly,  but  that  Comparative  Anatomy  is  want- 
ing. For  men  inquire  well  of  the  several  parts,  and 
their  substances,  figures,  and  collocations ;  but  the  di- 
versities of  the  figure  and  condition  of  those  parts  in 
different  men  they  observe  not.  The  reason  of  which 
omission  I  judge  to  be  no  other  than  that  the  former 
inquiry  may  be  satisfied  by  the  view  of  one  or  two 
anatomies,  whereas  the  latter,  (being  comparative  and 
casual)  requires  the  view  and  attentive  study  of  many. 
The  first  likewise  is  a  subject  on  which  learned  men 
may  display  their  knowledge  in  lectures  and  before 
audiences ;  but  the  last  is  only  to  be  gained  by  silent 
and  long  experience.  Meanwhile  there  is  no  question 
but  that  the  figure  and  structure  of  the  inward  parts 
is  but  little  inferior  in  variety  and  lineaments  to  the 
outward ;  and  that  the  hearts  or  livers  or  stomachs  of 
men  differ  as  much  as  their  foreheads  or  noses  or  ears. 
And  in  these  very  differences  of  the  internal  parts  are 
often  found  the  "  causes  continent "  of  many  diseases ; 
which  not  being  observed  by  the  physicians,  they  quar- 
rel many  times  with  the  humours,  which  are  not  in 
fault,  the  fault  being  in  the  very  mechanical  frame  of 
the  part.  In  the  cure  of  which  diseases  it  is  lost  la- 
bour to  employ  medicines  alterative  (for  the  part  admits 
not  of  alteration)  ;  but  the  thing  must  be  corrected, 
and  accommodated  or  palliated  by  diets  and  medicines 
familiar.  To  Comparative  Anatomy  belongs  likewise 
the  accurate  observation  as  well  of  all  kinds  of  hu- 


THE   FOURTH   BOOK.  33 

mours,  as  of  the  footsteps  and  impressions  of  diseases 
in  various  dissected  bodies.  For  the  humours  are  com- 
monly passed  over  in  anatomies  with  disgust  as  purga- 
ments ;  whereas  it  is  of  the  first  importance  to  observe 
of  what  sort  and  how  manifold  the  different  kinds  of 
humours  are  (not  relying  too  much  on  the  common 
divisions  of  them)  which  are  sometimes  found  in  the 
human  body;  and  in  what  cavities  and  receptacles 
each  of  them  is  most  apt  to  lodge  and  nestle,  and  with 
what  benefit  or  injury,  and  the  like.  So  again  the 
footsteps  and  impressions  of  diseases  and  the  injuries 
and  devastations  they  cause  in  the  inward  parts,  ought 
in  different  anatomies  to  be  diligently  observed  ;  namely 
imposthumations,  exulcerations,  discontinuations,  putre- 
factions, corrosions,  consumptions,  contractions,  exten- 
sions, convulsions,  loosenings,  dislocations,  obstructions, 
repletions,  tumours  ;  together  with  all  preternatural 
substances  that  are  found  in  the  human  body  (as 
stones,  carnosities,  excrescences,  worms,  and  the  like) ; 
all  these,  I  say,  and  the  like  of  them  ought  by  that 
Comparative  Anatomy  which  I  have  spoken  of,  and 
the  collation  of  the  several  experiences  of  many  phy- 
sicians, to  be  carefully  searched  out  and  compared. 
But  this  variety  of  accidents  is  either  slightly  handled 
in  anatomies  or  else  passed  over  in  silence. 

Of  that  other  defect  in  anatomy  (that  it  has  not  been 
practised  on  live  bodies)  what  need  to  speak  ?  For  it 
is  a  thing  hateful  and  inhuman,  and  has  been  justly  re- 
proved by  Celsus.  But  yet  it  is  no  less  true  (as  was 
anciently  noted)  that  many  of  the  more  subtle  pas- 
sages, pores,  and  pertusions  appear  not  in  anatomical 
dissections,  because  they  are  shut  and  latent  in  dead 
bodies,  though  they  be  open  and  manifest  in  live. 


34  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

Wherefore  that  utility  may  be  considered  as  well  as 
humanity,  the  anatomy  of  the  living  subject  is  not  to 
be  relinquished  altogether,  nor  referred  (as  it  was  by 
Celsus)  to  the  casual  practices  of  surgery ;  since  it 
may  be  well  discharged  by  the  dissection  of  beasts 
alive,  which,  notwithstanding  the  dissimilitude  of  their 
parts  to  human,  may,  with  the  help  of  a  little  judg- 
ment, sufficiently  satisfy  this  inquiry. 

Again,  in  their  inquiry  concerning  diseases,  they 
find  many  which  they  pronounce  incurable,  some  at 
their  very  commencement,  and  others  after  a  certain 
period.  So  that  the  proscriptions  of  Sylla  and  the 
Triumvirs  were  as  nothing  to  the  proscriptions  of  phy- 
sicians, wherein  by  most  iniquitous  edicts  they  give  up 
so  many  to  death  ;  of  whom  nevertheless  numbers  es- 
cape with  less  difficulty  than  they  did  in  the  Roman 
proscriptions.  Therefore  I  will  not  hesitate  to  set  down 
among  the  desiderata  a  work  on  the  cure  of  diseases 
which  are  held  incurable  ;  that  so  some  physicians  of 
eminence  and  magnanimity  may  be  stirred  up  to  take 
this  work  (as  far  as  the  nature  of  things  permits)  upon 
them ;  since  the  pronouncing  these  diseases  incurab'e 
gives  a  legal  sanction  as  it  were  to  neglect  and  inat- 
tention, and  exempts  ignorance  from  discredit. 

Again,  to  go  a  little  further  ;  I  esteem  it  likewise  to 
be  clearly  the  office  of  a  physician,  not  only  to  restore 
health,  but  also  to  mitigate  the  pains  and  torments  of 
diseases ;  and  not  only  when  such  mitigation  of  pain,  as 
of  a  dangerous  symptom,  helps  and  conduces  to  recov- 
ery ;  but  also  when,  all  hope  of  recovery  being  gone,  it 
serves  only  to  make  a  fair  and  easy  passage  from  life. 
For  it  is  no  small  felicity  which  Augustus  Cffisar  was 
wont  so  earnestly  to  pray  for,  that  same  Euthanasia; 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  35 

which  likewise  was  observed  in  the  death  of  Antoninus 
Pius,1  which  was  not  so  much  like  death  as  like  falling 
into  a  deep  and  pleasant  sleep.  And  it  is  written  of 
Epicurus,  that  he  procured  the  same  for  himself;  for 
after  his  disease  was  judged  desperate,  he  drowned  his 
stomach  and  senses  with  a  large  draught  and  ingurgi 
tation  of  wine  ;  whereupon  the  epigram  was  made, 

hinc  Stygias  ebrius  hausit  aquas.  2 

lie  drowned  in  wine  the  bitterness  of  the  Stygian 
water.  But  in  our  times,  the  physicians  make  a  kind 
of  scruple  and  religion  to  stay  with  the  patient  after  he 
is  given  up ;  whereas  in  my  judgment,  if  they  would 
not  be  wanting  to  their  office,  and  indeed  to  humanity, 
they  ought  both  to  acquire  the  skill  and  to  bestow  the 
attention  whereby  the  dying  may  pass  more  easily  and 
quietly  out  of  life.  This  part  I  call  the  inquiry  con- 
cerning outward  Euthanasia,  or  the  easy  dying  of  the 
body  (to  distinguish  it  from  that  Euthanasia  which 
regards  the  preparation  of  the  soul)  ;  and  set  it  down 
among  the  desiderata. 

Again,  in  the  cures  of  diseases  I  generally  find  this 
deficience  ;  that  the  physicians  of  this  age,  though  they 
pursue  well  enough  the  general  intentions  of  cures,  yet 
the  particular  receipts  which  are  proper  for  the  cure  of 
particular  diseases  they  either  do  not  well  understand 
or  do  not  scrupulously  observe.  For  physicians  have 
frustrated  and  destroyed  the  fruit  of  tradition  and  ex- 
perience by  their  magistracies,  in  adding  and  taking 
away  and  making  changes  in  their  receipts  at  their 
pleasure  ;  and  substituting  quid  pro  quo,  much  like  the 
chemists ;  usurping  such  command  over  the  medicine, 

1  Sueton.  in  August,  c.  99.  a  Cf.  Diog.  Laert.  x.  16 


36  TRANSLATION   OF    THE   "  DE   AUGMENTIS." 

that  the  medicine  loses  all  command  over  the  disease. 
For  except  it  be  treacle  and  mithridate,  and  perhaps 
disascordium  and  the  confection  of  alkermes,  and  a  few 
other  medicines,  they  tie  themselves  to  scarce  any  cer- 
tain receipts  severely  and  religiously.  For  as  to  those 
confections  which  are  for  sale  in  the  shops,  they  are 
rather  in  readiness  for  general  intentions  than  accom- 
modated and  specially  adapted  to  particular  cures  ;  for 
they  do  not  specially  regard  any  one  disease,  but  relate 
generally  to  purging,  opening,  comforting,  and  altering. 
And  this  is  principally  the  cause  why  empirics  and  old 
women  are  more  happy  many  times  in  their  cures  than 
learned  physicians,  because  'they  are  more  exact  and 
religious  in  holding  to  the  composition  and  confection 
of  tried  medicines.  Indeed  I  remember  a  physician 
here  in  England,  a  famous  practitioner,  in  religion  al- 
most a  Jew,  in  reading  a  kind  of  Arab,  who  used  to 
say,  "  Your  physicians  in  Europe  are  indeed  men  of 
learning ;  but  they  do  not  know  the  particular  cures  for 
diseases."  He  would  also  say  in  jest,  not  very  rever- 
ently, "  that  our  physicians  are  like  bishops,  who  have 
the  power  of  the  keys,  to  bind  and  loose,  and  nothing 
more."  But  to  speak  seriously ;  I  conceive  that  it 
would  be  of  great  use  if  some  physicians,  among  the 
more  distinguished  both  for  learning  and  practice, 
would  compose  a  work  on  medicines  tried  and  ap- 
proved by  experiment  for  the  cure  of  particular  dis- 
eases. For  if  it  be  thought  fitter  for  a  learned  physi- 
cian (after  taking  account  of  the  constitution  and  age 
of  his  patients,  the  season  of  the  year,  their  customs, 
and  the  like)  to  apply  his  medicines  according  to  the 
occasion,  than  to  abide  by  any  certain  prescriptions, 
the  opinion,  though  plausible,  is  fallacious,  and  allows 


THE    FOURTH    BOOK.  37 

too  little  weight  to  experience,  and  too  much  to  judg- 
ment. For  as  they  were  the  most  useful  citizens  and 
of  the  best  composition  in  the  state  of  Rome,  who 
either  being  consuls  inclined  to  the  people,  or  being 
tribunes  inclined  to  the  senate ;  so  in  the  matter  we 
now  handle,  they  are  the  best  physicians,  who  being 
great  in  learning  most  incline  to  the  traditions  of  expe- 
rience, or  being  distinguished  in  practice  do  not  reject 
the  methods  and  generalities  of  art.  As  to  the  quali- 
fying of  medicines  (if  it  be  ever  necessary),  it  ought 
rather  to  be  done  in  the  vehicles  than  in  the  body  of  the 
medicines,  wherein  nothing  should  be  altered  without 
evident  necessity.  This  part  therefore,  which  treats  ot 
authentic  and  positive  medicines,  I  set  down  as  want- 
ing. But  it  is  a  thing  that  should  not  be  undertaken 
without  keen  and  severe  judgment,  and  in  synod,  as  it 
were,  of  select  physicians. 

Again,  in  preparation  of  medicines  I  find  it  strange 
(especially  considering  how  mineral  medicines  have 
been  so  much  lauded  and  extolled  by  the  chemists,  and 
that  such  medicines  are  safer  applied  outwardly  than 
taken  inwardly)  that  no  man  has  endeavoured  to  make 
an  imitation  by  art  of  natural  baths  and  medicinal 
fountains ;  although  it  is  confessed  that  they  receive 
their  virtues  from  the  mineral  veins  through  which  they 
flow ;  and  not  only  so,  but  as  a  manifest  proof  of  the 
fact,  human  industry  has  found  the  way  to  discern  and 
distinguish  by  analysis  from  what  kind  of  mineral  such 
waters  receive  tincture  ;  as  sulphur,  vitriol,  steel,  or  the 
like.  Which  natural  tincture  if  it  might  be  reduced  to 
compositions  of  art,  would  put  it  in  the  power  of  man 
to  make  more  kinds  of  them  as  occasion  demands,  and 
to  regulate  their  temper  at  discretion.  This  part  there- 


88  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 

fore,  concerning  the  imitation  of  nature  in  artificial 
baths  (an  undertaking  doubtless  both  easy  and  profit- 
able), I  judge  to  be  deficient. 

But  lest  I  grow  to  be  more  particular  than  is  agree- 
able either  to  my  intention  or  to  the  nature  of  this 
treatise,  I  will  conclude  this  part  with  the  note  of  one 
deficience  more,  which  seems  to  me  of  greatest  conse- 
quence ;  which  is,  that  the  method  of  treatment  in  use 
is  too  compendious  to  accomplish  anything  remarkable 
or  difficult.  For  in  my  judgment  it  would  be  an  opin- 
ion more  flattering  than  true,  to  think  any  medicine 
can  be  so  sovereign  or  so  happy  as  that  the  simple  use 
of  it  can  work  any  great  cure.  It  were  a  strange 
speech,  which  spoken  once,  or  even  spoken  many  times, 
should  reclaim  a  man  from  a  vice  to  which  he  is  by  na- 
ture subject.  The  thing  is  impossible.  It  is  order, 
pursuit,  sequence,  and  skilful  interchange  of  applica- 
tion, which  is  mighty  in  nature.  And  these  things, 
although  they  require  greater  judgment  in  prescribing 
and  more  constant  obedience  in  observing,  yet  make  up 
for  it  abundantly  by  the  magnitude  of  the  effects  they 
produce.  Now  although  a  man  would  think,  by  the 
daily  attentions  which  physicians  pay  to  their  patients, 
—  their  visitations,  nursings,  and  prescriptions,  —  that 
they  were  pursuing  the  cure  diligently  and  following  it 
up  by  a  certain  path ;  yet  let  a  man  look  more  deeply 
into  the  prescripts  and  ministrations  which  physicians 
use,  and  he  shall  find  the  most  of  them  full  of  vacilla- 
tion and  inconstancy,  devices  of  the  moment,  without 
any  settled  or  foreseen  course  of  cure ;  whereas  they 
ought  from  the  very  first,  as  soon  as  ever  the  disease  is 
fully  discovered  and  known,  to  resolve  upon  some  reg- 
ular plan  of  treatment,  and  not  to  depart  therefrom 


THE   FOURTH  BOOK.  39 

without  grave  reason.  And  let  physicians  be  assured 
of  this  :  that  there  may  be  (for  example)  three  or  four 
medicines  rightly  prescribed  for  the  cure  of  some  serious 
disease,  which  if  taken  in  proper  order  and  at  proper 
intervals  will  work  the  cure  ;  but  if  taken  either  singly, 
or  in  a  different  order,  or  without  the  interval,  will 
prove  most  injurious.  I  do  not  mean  that  every  scru- 
pulous and  superstitious  prescript  should  be  taken  for 
the  best  (no  more  than  every  strait  way  is  the  way  to 
heaven)  ;  the  way  must  be  the  right  way  no  less  than 
the  strait  and  difficult  one.  This  part  then,  which  I 
will  call  the  Physician's  Clue,  I  set  down  as  deficient. 
And  these  are  the  things  I  find  wanting  in  that  part  of 
medicine  which  relates  to  the  cure  of  diseases  :  only 
there  is  one  thing  still  remaining,  which  is  of  more  con- 
sequence than  all  the  rest ;  —  namely,  a  true  and  active 
Natural  Philosophy  for  the  science  of  medicine  to  be 
built  upon.  But  that  does  not  belong  to  the  present 
treatise. 

The  third  part  of  medicine  which  I  have  set  down  is 
that  which  relates  to  the  Prolongation  of  Life,  which  is 
new,  and  deficient ;  and  the  most  noble  of  all.  For  if 
such  a  thing  may  be  discovered,  the  business  of  medi- 
cine will  no  longer  be  confined  to  humble  cures,  nor 
will  physicians  be  honoured  only  for  necessity ;  but  for 
a  gift  to  men  —  of  earthly  gifts  perhaps  the  greatest  — 
of  which,  next  to  God,  they  may  become  the  dispensers 
and  administrators.  For  although  to  a  Christian  mak- 
ing for  the  Land  of  Promise  the  world  is  but  a  wilder- 
ness, yet  even  while  we  travel  in  the  wilderness  to 
have  our  shoes  and  garments  (that  is  our  bodies,  which 
are  as  the  clothing  of  the  soul)  not  wrorn  out  by  the 
Aray,  must  be  accounted  as  a  gift  of  divine  grace.  Upon 


40  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

this  subject  then,  seeing  it  is  of  such  excellence,  and 
that  I  have  set  it  down  as  wanting,  I  will  after  my 
manner  give  both  admonitions,  and  directions,  and  pre- 
cepts. 

My  first  admonition  is,  that  of  the  writers  upon  this 
argument  there  is  none  who  has  discovered  anything 
great,  not  to  say  anything  sound.  Aristotle  has  indeed 
published  a  very  short  commentary  upon  it,  in  which 
there  is  some  acuteness :  which  he,  as  usual,  will  have 
to  bo  everything.  But  more  modern  writers  have 
handled  it  so  idly  and  superstitiously,  that  by  reason 
of  their  vanity  the  argument  itself  has  come  to  be  re- 
puted vain  and  senseless. 

My  second  admonition  is,  that  the  very  intentions 
of  physicians  in  this  matter  are  worth  nothing,  and 
rather  serve  to  draw  men's  thoughts  awray  from  the 
point  than  to  direct  them  to  it.  For  they  tell  us  that 
death  consists  in  the  destitution  of  warmth  and  moist- 
ure ;  and  therefore  that  the  natural  warmth  should  be 
comforted,  and  the  radical  moisture  cherished.  Just 
as  if  this  could  be  done  by  broths,  or  lettuces  and  mal- 
lows, or  starch,  or  jujubes,  or  spices,  or  generous  wines, 
or  even  spirits  of  wine  and  chemical  oils  ;  all  of  which 
are  rather  injurious  than  beneficial. 

My  third  admonition  is,  that  men  should  cease  from 
trifling,  nor  be  so  credulous  as  to  imagine  that  so  great 
a  work  as  this  of  delaying  and  turning  back  the  course 
of  nature  can  be  effected  by  a  morning  draught  or  by 
the  use  of  some  precious  drug;  by  potable  gold,  or 
essence  of  pearls,  or  suchlike  toys ;  —  but  be  assured 
lhat  the  prolongation  of  life  is  a  work  of  labour  and 
difficulty,  and  consisting  of  a  great  number  of  reme- 
dies, and  those  aptly  connected  one  with  another.  For 


THE  FOURTH   BOOK.  41 

let  no  man  be  so  dull  as  to  believe  that  a  thins;  which 

cT> 

has  never  yet  been  done  can  be  done  now  except  b1? 
means  yet  unattempted. 

My  fourth  admonition  is,  that  men  should  rightly 
observe  and  distinguish  between  those  things  which 
conduce  to  a  healthy  life,  and  those  which  conduce  to 
a  long  life.  For  there  are  some  things  which  tend  to 
exhilarate  the  spirits,  strengthen  the  bodily  functions, 
and  keep  off  diseases,  which  yet  shorten  the  sum  of 
life,  and  without  sickness  hasten  on  the  decay  of  old 
age.  There  are  others  also  which  are  of  service  to 
prolong  life  and  retard  decay,  which  yet  cannot  be 
used  without  danger  to  health,  so  that  they  who  use 
them  for  the  prolongation  of  life  should  at  the  same 
time  provide  against  such  inconveniences  as  may  arise 
from  their  use.  And  so  much  by  way  of  admonition. 

With  regard  to  directions,  the  idea  I  have  formed 
of  the  matter  is  this.  Things  are  preserved  and  con- 
tinued in  two  ways  ;  either  in  their  own  identity,  or 
by  repair.  In  their  own  identity,  as  a  fly  or  an  ant  in 
amber  ;  a  flower  or  an  apple  or  wood  in  conservatories 
of  snow  ;  a  corpse  in  balsam.  By  repair,  as  in  flame, 
and  in  things  mechanical.  Now  he  that  seeks  to  effect 
the  prolongation  of  life  must  use  both  methods  (for 
separate  they  have  less  power)  ;  and  the  human  body 
must  be  preserved  as  bodies  inanimate,  and  again  as 
ilame,  and  lastly  to  a  certain  degree  as  things  mechan- 
ical are  preserved.  Therefore  there  are  three  inten- 
tions for  the  prolongation  of  life  ;  prevention  of  waste, 
goodness  of  repair,  and  renewal  of  that  which  has  be- 
gun to  grow  old.  Waste  is  caused  by  two  depreda- 
tions ;  that  of  the  native  spirit,  and  that  of  the  sur- 
rounding air.  Both  of  these  may  be  prevented  in  two 


42  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ways ;  either  by  making  those  agents  less  predatory, 
or  the  patients  (that  is,  the  juices  of  the  body)  less 
susceptible  of  being  preyed  on.  The  spirit  is  made 
less  predatory  if  it  be  either  condensed  in  substance, 
as  in  the  use  of  opiates  and  preparations  of  nitre,  and 
in  mortifications ;  or  diminished  in  quantity,  as  in 
Pythagorean  and  monastic  diets  ;  or  quieted  in  mo- 
tion, as  in  leisure  and  tranquillity.  The  surrounding 
air  becomes  less  predatory,  when  it  is  either  less  heat- 
ed by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  as  in  cold  climates,  caves, 
mountains,  and  the  columns  of  anchorites ;  or  kept 
from  the  body,  as  by  thick  skins,  the  plumage  of  birds, 
and  the  use  of  oils  and  unguents-  without  spices.  The 
juices  of  the  body  are  made  less  susceptible  of  depre- 
dation, by  being  rendered  either  hard,  or  roscid  and 
oily :  hard,  as  by  rough  diet,  living  in  the  open  air, 
strong  exercises,  and  some  mineral  baths ;  roscid,  as  by 
the  use  of  sweet  things,  abstaining  from  salts  and  acids, 
and  most  of  all  by  such  a  composition  of  drink  as  has 
very  fine  and  subtle  parts,  yet  free  from  all  acrimony 
or  acidity.  Repair  is  produced  by  aliments.  Now 
alimentation  is  promoted  in  four  ways ;  by  the  digestion 
of  the  bowels  to  send  out  the  nourishment,  as  is  done 
by  medicines  comforting  the  principal  bowels ;  by  ex- 
citation of  the  external  parts  to  attract  the  aliment,  as 
by  exercises,  proper  frictions,  some  proper  unctions 
and  baths ;  by  preparation  of  the  aliment  itself,  so  that 
it  may  insinuate  itself  more  easily  and  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent anticipate  digestion,  as  in  the  various  artificial 
modes  of  preparing  food,  mixing  drink,  fermenting 
bread,  and  combining  together  the  virtues  of  these 
three;  by  comforting  the  last  act  of  assimilation,  as 
in  seasonable  sleep,  and  some  external  applications. 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  43 

The  renovation  of  what  has  begun  to  grow  old  takes 
place  in  two  ways ;  either  by  the  inteneration  of  the 
habit  of  body  itself,  as  in  the  use  of  baths,  plasters, 
and  unguents,  which  act  so  as  to  sink  in  without  draw- 
ing anything  out ;  or  by  draining  out  the  old  moisture 
and  substituting  new,  as  in  seasonable  and  frequent 
purgings,  lettings  of  blood,  and  attenuating  diets,  which 
restore  the  flower  of  the  body.  And  so  much  for  di- 
rections. 

As  for  precepts,  though  many  may  be  deduced  from 
the  directions  themselves,  I  think  fit  to  subjoin  three  as 
principal.  The  first  is,  that  prolongation  of  life  is  to 
be  expected  rather  from  periodical  diets,  than  from  any 
familiar  regimen  of  living,  or  even  from  the  excellence 
of  particular  recipes.  For  things  which  have  sufficient 
strength  to  turn  back  the  course  of  nature  are  gener- 
ally so  strong,  and  produce  such  alterations,  that  they 
cannot  be  compounded  with  any  medicine,  much  less 
mixed  with  common  food.  It  remains  therefore,  that 
they  be  used  in  series,  and  regularly,  and  at  set  times 
recurring  at  certain  intervals. 

The  second  is,  that  prolongation  of  life  is  to  be  ex- 
pected rather  from  working  on  the  spirits  and  from  the 
softening  of  the  parts,  than  from  the  modes  of  alimen- 
tation. For  there  being  three  things  which  act  upon 
the  human  body  and  frame  (not  taking  external  acci- 
dents into  account),  namely  the  spirits,  the  parts,  and 
the  aliments  ;  the  way  of  prolonging  life  by  the  modes 
of  alimentation  is  tedious  and  circuitous ;  whereas  the 
,vays  by  working  on  the  spirits  and  on  the  parts  are 
much  shorter,  and  sooner  attain  the  desired  end ;  be- 
cause the  spirits  are  immediately  affected  both  by  va- 
pours and  passions,  which  have  strange  power  upon 


44  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

them  ;  and  the  parts  by  baths,  unguents,  and  plasters, 
which  also  make  sudden  impressions. 

The  third  is,  that  the  softening  of  the  parts  from 
without  should  be  effected  by  things  of  kindred  sub- 
stance, things  that  impress,  and  things  that  close  up. 
For  things  of  kindred  substance  are  kindly  and  readily 
embraced  and  taken  in  by  the  parts,  and  perform  the 
proper  office  of  emollients :  tilings  that  impress  not 
only  act  as  vehicles  for  the  virtue  of  the  emollients, 
making  it  sink  more  easily  and  deeper,  but  themselves 
also  expand  the  parts  a  little  :  while  things  that  close 
up  retain  and  keep  in  and  fix  for  awhile  the  virtue  of 
both  the  others,  and  restrain  perspiration,  which  is  a 
thing  opposed  to  the  softening  process,  because  it  lets 
out  the  moisture.  And  so  by  these  three  (but  rather 
disposed  in  order  and  succeeding  each  other,  than 
mixed  together)  is  the  thing  accomplished.  At  the 
same  time  I  wrould  have  it  understood  that  the  inten- 
tion of  the  softening  is  not  to  nourish  the  parts  from 
without,  but  only  to  make  them  apter  to  receive  nour- 
ishment. For  whatever  is  more  dry  is  less  active  in 
assimilating.  And  so  much  for  the  Prolongation  of 
Life,  now  newly  assigned  to  medicine,  as  the  third 
part. 

We  come  now  to  Cosmetic,  which  has  parts  civil  and 
parts  effeminate.  For  cleanness  and  decency  of  body 
is  rightly  esteemed  to  proceed  from  a  modesty  of  man- 
ners, and  from  reverence,  first  of  all  towards  God  whose 
creatures  we  are ;  then  towards  society  wherein  we  live ; 
and  then  also  towards  ourselves,  whom  we  ought  to 
reverence  not  less,  but  rather  more,  than  others.  But 
,hat  adulterate  decoration,  which  makes  use  of  dyes 
and  pigments,  is  well  wrorthy  of  the  deficiencies  which 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  45 

always  attend  it ;  being  neither  fine  enough  to  deceive, 
nor  convenient  enough  for  use,  nor  safe  and  wholeseme 
enough  for  health.  And  I  wonder  that  this  depraved 
custom  of  painting  has  been  by  the  penal  laws,  both 
ecclesiastical  and  civil,  (which  have  been  very  severe 
against  extravagance  in  apparel  and  effeminate  dress- 
ing of  the  hair)  so  long  overlooked.  We  read  indeed 
of  Jezebel,  that  she  painted  her  face ;  but  nothing  of 
the  kind  is  said  of  Esther  or  Judith. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  Athletic.  This  I  take  in  a 
sense  somewhat  larger  than  that  in  which  it  is  usually 
understood.  For  to  it  I  refer  everything  which  con- 
duces to  the  procuring  of  any  kind  of  ability  of  which 
the  human  body  is  capable ;  whether  of  agility  or  of 
endurance.  Agility  has  two  parts,  strength  and  swift- 
ness ;  endurance  has  likewise  twro,  patience  of  natural 
wants,  and  fortitude  under  torments.  Of  all  which  we 
often  see  remarkable  examples,  in  the  practice  of  tum- 
blers, in  the  hard  living  of  some  savages,  in  the  stu- 
pendous strength  of  maniacs,  and  in  the  constancy  of 
some  persons  under  exquisite  tortures.  And  if  there 
be  found  any  other  faculty  not  falling  into  the  former 
divisions  (such  as  the  wonderful  power  of  holding  the 
breath,  which  is  often  seen  in  divers),  I  mean  it  to  be 
referred  to  this  art.  Now  that  such  things  can  some- 
times be  done,  is  very  plain ;  but  the  philosophy  and 
inquisition  of  causes  relating  to  them  is  almost  neglect- 
ed ;  the  rather,  I  think,  because  it  is  thought  that  such 
masteries  of  nature  are  only  attained  either  by  a  pecu- 
liar aptness  of  nature  in  some  men,  which  cannot  be 
Caught,  or  by  continual  custom  fiom  boyhood,  a  thing 
which  depends  upon  authority  rather  than  upon  teach- 
ing. Which  though  it  be  not  altogether  true,  yet  of 


46  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

what  avail  is  it  to  note  defects  in  matters  of  this  kind  ? 
For  the  Olympic  Games  are  over  long  since  ;  and  be- 
sides in  such  things  mediocrity  is  enough  for  use,  excel- 
lency in  them  serving  for  the  most  part  only  for  mer- 
cenary ostentation. 

Lastly  I  come  to  Arts  of  Pleasure  Sensual,  which 
are  divided  according  to  the  senses  themselves.  The 
pleasure  of  the  eyes  is  chiefly  Painting,  with  a  num- 
ber of  other  arts  (pertaining  to  magnificence)  which 
respect  houses,  gardens,  vestments,  vases,  cups,  gems, 
and  the  like.  The  pleasure  of  the  ears  is  Music,  with 
its  various  apparatus  of  voices,  wind,  and  strings : 
water  instruments,  once  regarded  as  the  leaders  of 
this  art,  are  now  almost  out  of  use.  Of  all  these  arts 
those  which  belong  to  the  eye  and  ear  are  esteemed 
the  most  liberal ;  for  these  two  senses  are  the  purest ; 
and  the  sciences  thereof  are  the  most  learned,  as  hav- 
ing mathematics  like  a  handmaid  in  their  train.  The 
one  also  has  some  reference  to  memory  and  demonstra- 
tions, the  other  to  morality  and  the  passions  of  the 
mind.  The  pleasures  of  the  other  senses,  and  the  arts 
relating  to  them,  are  less  esteemed;  as  being  more 
allied  to  luxury  than  magnificence.  For  unguents, 
odours,  the  dainties  and  pleasures  of  the  table,  and 
most  of  all  the  stimulants  of  lust,  need  rather  laws  to 
repress  than  arts  to  teach  them.  It  has  been  well 
observed  by  some  that  military  arts  flourish  at  the 
birth  ana  rise  of  states ;  liberal  arts  when  states  are 
settled  and  at  their  height ;  and  voluptuary  arts  when 
they  are  turning  to  decline  and  ruin.  And  I  fear  that 
this  our  age  of  the  world,  as  being  somewhat  upon 
the  descent  of  the  wheel,  inclines  to  arts  voluptuary. 
Wherefore  let  these  things  pass.  With  arts  volup- 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  47 

tuary  I  couple  arts  jocular ;  for  the  deceiving  of  the 
senses  is  one  of  the  pleasures  of  the  senses. 

And  now  having  run  over  the  doctrines  concerning 
the  body  of  man  (Medicine,  Cosmetic,  Athletic,  and 
the  Art  Voluptuary),  I  give  this  notice  in  passing ;  that 
whereas  so  many  things  come  into  consideration  in  the 
human  body,  parts,  humours,  functions,  faculties,  and 
accidents ;  and  that  (if  it  were  a  new  matter)  it  would 
be  fit  that  there  should  be  a  single  body  of  learning 
touching  the  human  body  containing  them  all  (like 
that  doctrine  concerning  the  soul,  of  which  I  shall 
soon  come  to  speak) ;  yet  to  avoid  the  too  great  multi- 
plication of  arts,  or  the  transposition  (more  than  need 
be)  of  their  ancient  limits,  I  receive  the  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  parts  of  the  human  body,  —  the  functions, 
humours,  respiration,  sleep,  generation,  the  foetus  and 
gestation  in  the  womb,  growth,  puberty,  old  age,  fat- 
ness, and  the  like, —  into  the  body  of  medicine;  not 
that  they  properly  belong  to  those  three  offices,  but 
because  the  human  body  is  in  everything  the  subject 
of  medicine.  But  voluntary  motion  and  sense  I  refer 
to  the  doctrine  concerning  the  soul,  because  in  these 
two  the  soul  plays  the  principal  part.  And  so  much 
for  the  philosophy  concerning  the  body  of  man ;  which 
is  but  the  tabernacle  of  the  mind. 


48  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 


CHAP.  III. 

Division  of  Human  Philosophy  relating  to  the  Soul  into 
Doctrine  concerning  the  Breath  of  Life  and  Doctrine 
concerning  the  Sensible  or  Produced  Soul.  Second 
Division  of  the  same  Philosophy  into  Doctrine  con- 
cerning the  Substance  and  Faculties  of  the  Soul, 
and  Doctrine  concerning  the  Use  and  Objects  of  the 
Faculties.  Two  Appendices  of  the  Doctrine  concern- 
ing the  Faculties  of  the  Soul ;  Doctrine  concerning 
Natural  Divination  and  Doctrine  concerning  Fasci- 
nation. Distribution  of  the  Faculties  of  the  Sensible 
Soul  into  Motion  and  Sense. 

LET  us  now  proceed  to  the  doctrine  which  concerns 
the  Human  Soul,  from  the  treasures  whereof  all  other 
doctrines  are  derived.  The  parts  thereof  are  two ; 
the  one  treats  of  the  rational  soul,  which  is  divine ; 
the  other  of  the  irrational,  which  is  common  with 
brutes.  I  mentioned  a  little  before  (in  speaking  of 
Forms)  the  two  different  emanations  of  souls,  which 
appear  in  the  first  creation  thereof;  the  one  springing 
from  tne  breath  of  God,  the  other  from  the  wombs  of 
the  elements.  For  touching  the  first  generation  of  the 
rational  soul,  the  Scripture  says,  "  He  hath  made  man 
of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils 
the  breath  of  life ;"  whereas  the  generation  of  the  ir- 
rational soul,  or  that  of  the  brutes,  was  effected  by  the 
words  "  Let  the  water  bring  forth  ;  let  the  earth  bring 
forth.'  Now  this  soul  (as  it  exists  in  man)  is  only  the 
instrument  of  the  rational  soul,  and  has  its  origin  like 
that  of  the  brutes  in  the  dust  of  the  earth.  For  it  is 
not  said  that  "  He  made  the  body  of  man  of  the  dust 
of  the  earth,"  but  that  "  He  made  man  ; "  that  is  the 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  .    49 

entire  man,  excepting  only  the  breath  of  life.  Where- 
fore the  first  part  of  the  general  doctrine  concerning 
the  human  soul  I  will  term  the  doctrine  concerning 
the  Breath  of  Life ;  the  other  the  doctrine  concerning 
the  Sensible  or  Produced  Soul.  But  yet,  as  hitherto 
I  handle  philosophy  only  (for  I  have  placed  sacred 
divinity  at  the  end  of  the  work),  I  would  not  borrow 
this  division  from  theology,  if  it  were  not  consonant 
with  the  principles  of  philosophy  also.  For  there  are 
many  and  great  excellencies  of  the  human  soul  above 
the  souls  of  brutes,  manifest  even  to  those  who  philos- 
ophise according  to  the  sense.  Now  wherever  the 
mark  of  so  many  and  great  excellencies  is  found,  there 
also  a  specific  difference  ought  to  be  constituted ;  and 
therefore  I  do  not  much  like  the  confused  and  promis- 
cuous manner  in  which  philosophers  have  handled  the 
functions  of  the  soul ;  as  if  the  human  soul  differed 
from  the  spirit  of  brutes  in  degree  rather  than  in  kind ; 
as  the  sun  differs  from  the  stars,  or  gold  from  metals. 

I  must  subjoin  likewise  another  division  of  the  gen- 
eral doctrine  concerning  the  human  soul  before  I  speak 
more  fully  of  the  species.  For  that  which  I  shall 
hereafter  say  of  the  species  will  concern  both  divisions 
alike ;  as  well  that  which  I  have  just  set  down,  as  that 
which  I  am  now  about  to  propose.  Let  this  second 
division  therefore  be  into  the  doctrine  concerning  the 
Substance  and  Faculties  of  the  soul,  and  the  doctrine 
concerning  the  Use  and  Objects  of  the  Faculties. 

Having  therefore  laid  down  these  two  divisions,  let 
us  now  proceed  to  the  species.  The  doctrine  concern- 
ing the  breath  of  life,  as  well  as  the  doctrine  concern- 
ing the  substance  of  the  rational  soul,  includes  those 
inquiries  touching  its  nature,  —  whether  it  be  native  or 


50  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

advontive,  separable  or  inseparable,  mortal  or  immor- 
tal, how  far  it  is  tied  to  the  laws  of  matter,  how  far 
exempted  from  them ;  and  the  like.  Which  questions 
though  even  in  philosophy  they  admit  of  an  inquiry 
both  more  diligent  and  more  profound  than  they  have 
hitherto  received,  yet  I  hold  that  in  the  end  all  such 
must  be  handed  over  to  religion  to  be  determined  and 
defined.  Otherwise  they  will  be  subject  to  many 
errors  and  illusions  of  the  sense.  For  since  the  sub- 
stance of  the  soul  in  its  creation  was  not  extracted  or 
produced  out  of  the  mass  of  heaven  and  earth,  but 
was  immediately  inspired  from  God;  and  since  the 
laws  of  heaven  and  earth  are  the  proper  subjects  of 
philosophy ;  how  can  we  expect  to  obtain  from  philos- 
ophy the  knowledge  of  the  substance  of  the  rational 
soul?  It  must  be  drawn  from  the  same  divine  inspi- 
ration, from  which  that  substance  first  proceeded. 

The  doctrine  concerning  the  sensible  or  produced 
soul,  however,  is  a  fit  subject  of  inquiry  even  as  re- 
gards its  substance  ;  but  such  inquiry  appears  to  me  to 
be  deficient.  For  of  what  service  are  such  terms  as 
'ultimate  act,  form  of  the  body,  and  such  toys  of  logic, 
to  the  doctrine  concerning  the  substance  of  the  soul  ? 
For  the  sensible  soul — the  soul  of  brutes  —  must 
clearly  be  regarded  as  a  corporeal  substance,  attenu- 
ated and  made  invisible  by  heat;  a  breath  (I  say) 
compounded  of  the  natures  of  flame  and  air,  having 
the  softness  of  air  to  receive  impressions,  and  the 
vigour  of  fire  to  propagate  its  action  ;  nourished  partly 
by  oily  and  partly  by  watery  substances  ;  clothed  with 
the  body,  and  in  perfect  animals  residing  chiefly  in  the 
head,  running  along  the  nerves,  and  refreshed  and  re- 
paired by  the  spirituous  blood  of  the  arteries ;  as  Ber- 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  51 

nardinus  Telesius  and  his  pupil  Augustinus  Donius 
have  in  part  not  altogether  unprofitably  maintained. 
Let  there  be  therefore  a  more  diligent  inquiry  con- 
cerning this  doctrine  ;  the  rather  because  the  imperfect 
understanding  of  this  has  bred  opinions  superstitious 
and  corrupt  and  most  injurious  to  the  dignity  of  the 
human  mind,  touching  metempsychosis,  and  the  puri- 
fications of  souls  in  periods  of  years,  and  indeed  too 
near  an  affinity  in  all  things  between  the  human  soul 
and  the  souls  of  brutes.  For  this  soul  is  in  brutes  the 
principal  soul,  the  body  of  the  brute  being  its  instru- 
ment ;  whereas  in  man  it  is  itself  only  the  instrument 
of  the  rational  soul,  and  may  be  more  fitly  termed  not 
soul,  but  spirit.  And  so  much  for  the  substance  of  the 
soul. 

The  faculties  of  the  soul  are  well  known  ;  under- 
standing, reason,  imagination,  memory,  appetite,  will ; 
in  short  all  with  which  the  logical  and  ethical  sciences 
deal.  But  in  the  doctrine  concerning  the  soul  the 
origins  of  these  faculties  ought  to  be  handled,  and  that 
physically,  as  they  are  innate  and  inherent  in  the  soul ; 
the  uses  only  and  objects  of  them  being  deputed  to 
those  other  arts.  In  which  part  nothing  of  much  value 
(in  my  opinion)  has  as  yet  been  discovered ;  though  I 
cannot  indeed  report  it  as  deficient.  This  part  touch- 
ing the  faculties  of  the  mind  has  likewise  two  appen- 
dices, which  themselves  also,  as  they  are  handled,  have 
rather  produced  smoke  than  any  clear  flame  of  truth. 
One  of  these  is  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Divination,  the 
other  of  Fascination. 

Divination  has  been  anciently  and  not  unfitly  di- 
vided into  two  parts ;  Artificial  and  Natural.  Arti- 
ficial makes  prediction  by  argument,  concluding  upon 


52  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

signs  and  tokens ;  Natural  forms  a  presage  from  an  in- 
ward presentiment  of  the  mind,  without  the  help  of 
signs.  Artificial  is  of  two  sorts ;  one  argues  from 
causes  ;  the  other  only  from  experiments,  by  a  kind  of 
blind  authority.  Which  latter  is  for  the  most  part 
superstitious  ;  such  as  were  the  heathen  observations 
upon  the  inspection  of  entrails,  the  flights  of  birds,  and 
the  like.  And  the  more  solemn  astrology  of  the 
Chaldeans  was  little  better.  But  artificial  divination 
of  both  kinds  is  dispersed  among  different  knowledges. 
The  astrologer  has  his  predictions,  from  the  position  of 
the  stars.  The  physician  likewise  has  his  predictions 
of  approaching  death,  of  recovery,  of  coming  symp- 
toms of  diseases,  from  the  urine,  the  pulse,  the  look 
of  the  patient,  and  the  like.  The  politician  also  has 
his ;  "  O  venal  city,  that  will  quickly  perish,  if  it  finds 
a  purchaser  :  "  1  which  prediction  was  not  long  in  being 
verified ;  being  fulfilled  in  Sylla  first,  and  afterwards 
in  Caesar.  Predictions  of  this  kind  therefore  are  not 
to  our  present  purpose,  but  are  to  be  referred  to  their 
own  arts.  But  Natural  Divination,  which  springs  from 
the  inward  power  of  the  mind,  is  that  which  I  now 
speak  of.  This  is  of  two  sorts ;  the  one  Primitive,  the 
other  by  Influxion.  Primitive  is  grounded  upon  the 
supposition  that  the  mind,  when  it  is  withdrawn  and 
collected  into  itself,  and  not  diffused  into  the  organs  of 
the  body,  has  of  its  own  essential  power  some  preno 
tion  of  things  to  come.  Now  this  appears  most  in 
sleep,  in  extasies,  and  near  death  ;  and  more  rarely  in 
waking  apprehensions,  or  when  the  body  is  healthy  and 
strong.  But  this  state  of  mind  is  commonly  induced 
or  furthered  by  those  abstinences  and  observances 

1  Sallust,  in  Bell.  Jugurth.  38. 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  53 

which  most  withdraw  the  mind  from  exercising  the 
duties  of  the  body,  so  that  it  may  enjoy  its  own  nature, 
free  from  external  restraints.  Divination  by  influxion 
is  grounded  upon  this  other  conceit ;  that  the  mind,  as 
a  mirror  or  glass,  receives  a  kind  of  secondary  illumi- 
nation from  the  foreknowledge  of  God  and  spirits ;  and 
this  also  is  furthered  by  the  same  state  and  regimen  oi 
the  body  as  the  other.  For  the  retiring  of  the  mind 
within  itself  gives  it  the  fuller  benefit  of  its  own  na- 
ture, and  makes  it  the  more  susceptible  of  divine  in- 
fluxions ;  save  that  in  divinations  by  influxion  the 
mind  is  seized  with  a  kind  of  fervency  and  impatience 
as  it  were  of  the  present  Deity  (a  state  which  the 
ancients  noted  by  the  name  of  divine  fury)  ;  while  in 
primitive  divination  it  is  more  in  a  state  of  quiet  and 
repose. 

Fascination  is  the  power  and  act  of  imagination  in- 
tensive upon  the  body  of  another  (for  of  the  power  of 
imagination  upon  the  body  of  the  imaginant  I  have 
spoken  above)  ;  wherein  the  school  of  Paracelsus  and 
the  disciples  of  pretended  natural  magic  have  been  so 
intemperate,  that  they  have  exalted  the  power  and  ap- 
prehension of  the  imagination  to  be  much  one  with  the 
power  of  miracle-working  faith.  Others,  that  draw 
nearer  to  probability,  looking  with  a  clearer  eye  at  the 
secret  workings  and  impressions  of  things,  the  irradia- 
tions of  the  senses,  the  passage  of  contagion  from  body 
to  body,  the  conveyance  of  magnetic  virtues,  have  con- 
cluded that  it  is  much  more  probable  there  should  be 
impressions,  conveyances,  and  communications  from 
spirit  to  spirit  (seeing  that  the  spirit  is  above  all  other 
things  both  strenuous  to  act  and  soft  and  tender  to  be 
acted  on)  ;  whence  have  arisen  those  conceits  (now 


54  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

become  as  it  were  popular)  of  the  mastering  spirit,  of 
men  unlucky  and  ill  omened,  of  the  glances  of  love, 
envy,  and  the  like.  With  this  is  joined  the  inquiry 
how  to  raise  and  fortify  the  imagination  ;  for  if  the 
imagination  fortified  have  so  much  power,  it  is  worth 
while  to  know  how  to  fortify  and  exalt  it.  And  here 
comes  in  crookedly  and  dangerously  a  palliation  and 
defence  of  a  great  part  of  ceremonial  magic.  For  it 
may  be  speciously  pretended  that  ceremonies,  char- 
acters, charms,  gesticulations,  amulets,  and  the  like,  do 
not  derive  their  power  from  any  tacit  or  sacramental 
contract  with  evil  spirits,  but  serve  only  to  strengthen 
and  exalt  the  imagination  of  him  who  uses  them.  As 

O 

likewise  in  religion  the  use  of  images  to  fix  the  cogi- 
tations and  raise  the  devotions  of  those  who  pray 
before  them  has  grown  common.  My  own  judgment 
however  is  this :  though  it  be  admitted,  that  imagina- 
tion has  power,  and  further  that  ceremonies  fortify  and 
strengthen  that  power ;  and  that  they  be  used  sincere- 
ly and  intentionally  for  that  purpose,  and  as  a  physi- 
cal remedy,  without  any  the  least  thought  of  inviting 
thereby  the  aid  of  spirits ;  they  are  nevertheless  to  be 
held  unlawful,  as  opposing  and  disputing  that  divine  sen- 
tence passed  upon  man  for  sin,  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  shalt  thou  eat  bread." l  For  magic  of  this  kind 
proposes  to  attain  those  noble  fruits  which  God  ordained 
to  be  bought  at  the  price  of  labour  by  a  few  easy  and 
slothful  observances. 

There  remain  two  doctrines,  which  refer  principally 
to  the  faculties  of  the  inferior  or  sensible  soul,  —  as 
that  which  is  most  connected  with  the  organs  of  the 
body  ;  the  one  concerning  Voluntary  Motion,  the  other 

l  Gen.  iii.  19. 


THE    FOURTH  BOOK.  55 

concerning  Sense  and  the  Sensible.  In  the  first  of 
these,  which  has  in  other  respects  also  been  very  bar- 
renly inquired,  one  entire  part  almost  is  wanting.  For 
the  proper  office  and  structure  of  the  nerves  and 
muscles,  and  of  the  other  parts  required  for  this  mo- 
tion ;  and  what  part  of  the  body  is  at  rest,  while  an- 
other moves ;  and  that  the  imagination  is  as  it  were  the 
director  and  driver  of  this  motion,  insomuch  that  when 
the  image  which  is  the  object  of  the  motion  is  with- 
drawn the  motion  itself  is  immediately  interrupted  and 
stopped  (as  in  walking,  if  you  begin  to  think  eagerly 
and  fixedly  of  something  else,  you  immediately  stand 
still)  ;  these,  I  say,  and  some  other  subtleties  which  are 
not  amiss,  have  long  ago  come  into  observation  and 
inquiry.  But  how  the  compressions,  dilatations,  and 
agitations  of  the  spirit  (which  is  doubtless  the  source 
of  motion)  can  sway,  excite,  or  impel  the  corporeal 
and  gross  mass  of  the  parts,  has  not  as  yet  been  dili- 
gently inquired  and  handled.  And  no  wonder ;  see- 
ing the  sensible  soul  has  been  regarded  rather  as  a 
function  than  as  a  substance.  But  since  it  is  now 
known  that  it  is  itself  a  corporeal  and  material  sub- 
stance, it  is  necessary  to  inquire  by  what  efforts  a  spirit 
so  small  and  tender  can  put  in  motion  bodies  so  gross 
and  hard.  Of  this  part  therefore,  since  it  is  deficient, 
.et  inquiry  be  made. 

Concerning  Sense  and  the  Sensible  there  has  been 
much  fuller  and  more  diligent  inquiry,  both  in  general 
treatises  concerning  them  and  also  in  particular  arts,  as 
perspective  and  music ;  how  correctly,  is  nothing  to  the 
purpose,  seeing  they  cannot  be  ranked  as  deficients. 
Yet  there  are  two  noble  and  distinguished  parts,  which 
[  pronounce  deficient  in  this  doctrine  ;  the  one  con- 


56 

serning  the  Difference  of  Perception  and  Sense,  the 
other  concerning  the  Form  of  Light. 

A  good  explanation  of  the  difference  between  Per- 
ception and  Sense  should  have  been  prefixed  by  philos- 
ophers to  their  treatises  on  Sense  and  the  Sensible,  as 
a  matter  most  fundamental.  For  we  see  that  all  nat- 
ural bodies  have  a  manifest  power  of  perception,  and 
also  a  kind  of  choice  in  receiving  what  is  agreeable, 
and  avoiding  what  is  hostile  and  foreign.  Nor  am  I 
speaking  only  of  the  more  subtle  perceptions,  as  when 
the  magnet  attracts  iron,  flame  leaps  towards  naphtha, 
one  bubble  coming  near  another  unites  with  it,  rays  of 
light  start  away  from  a  white  object,  the  body  of  an 
animal  assimilates  things  that  are  useful  and  excerns 
things  that  are  not  so,  part  of  a  sponge  attracts  water 
(though  held  too  high  to  touch  it)  and  expels  air,  and 
the  like.  For  what  need  is  there  of  enumerating  such 
things  ?  since  no  body  when  placed  near  another  either 
changes  it  or  is  changed  by  it,  unless  a  reciprocal  per- 
ception precede  the  operation.  A  body  perceives  the 
passages  by  which  it  enters ;  it  perceives  the  force  of 
another  body  to  which  it  yields ;  it  perceives  the 
removal  of  another  body  which  held  it  fast,  when  it 
recovers  itself;  it  perceives  the  disruption  of  its  con- 
tinuity, which  for  a  time  it  resists  ;  in  short  there  is 
Perception  everywhere.  And  air  perceives  heat  and 
cold  so  acutely,  that  its  perception  is  far  more  subtle 
than  that  of  the  human  touch,  which  yet  is  reputed  the 
normal  measure  of  heat  and  cold.  It  seems  then  that 
in  regard  to  this  doctrine  men  have  committed  two 
faults ;  one,  that  they  have  for  the  most  part  left  it 
untouched  and  unhandled  (though  it  be  a  most  noble 
subject)  ;  the  other,  that  they  who  have  happened  to 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  5T 

turn  their  minds  to  it  have  gone  too  far,  and  attributed 
sense  to  all  bodies ;  so  that  it  were  a  kind  of  impiety  to 
pluck  off  the  branch  of  a  tree,  lest  it  should  groan,  like 
Polydorus.1  But  they  should  have  examined  the  dif- 
ference between  perception  and  sense,  not  only  in  sen- 
sible as  compared  with  insensible  bodies  (as  plants  with 
animals),  one  body  with  another;  but  also  in  the  sensi- 
ble body  itself  they  should  have  observed  what  is  the 
reason  why  so  many  actions  are  performed  without  any 
sense  at  all ;  why  food  is  digested  and  ejected ;  hu- 
mours and  juices  carried  up  and  down  ;  the  heart  and 
the  pulse  beat ;  the  entrails,  like  so  many  workshops, 
perform  every  one  its  own  work ;  and  yet  all  these  and 
many  other  things  are  done  without  sense.  But  men 
have  not  seen  clearly  enough  of  what  nature  the  action 
of  sense  is  ;  and  what  kind  of  body,  what  length  of 
time,  or  what  repetition  of  impression  is  required  to 
produce  pleasure  or  pain.  In  a  word,  they  do  not 
seem  at  all  to  understand  the  difference  between  simple 
perception  and  sense  ;  nor  how  far  perception  may  take 
place  without  sense.  Neither  is  this  a  dispute  about 
words  merely,  but  about  a  matter  of  great  importance. 
Concerning  this  doctrine  then  (being  of  great  use  and 
bearing  upon  very  many  things)  let  a  better  inquiry 
be  set  on  foot.  For  ignorance  on  this  point  drove  some 
of  the  ancient  philosophers  to  suppose  that  a  soul  was 
infused  into  all  bodies  without  distinction ;  for  they 
could  not  conceive  how  there  could  be  motion  at  dis 
cretion  without  sense,  or  sense  without  a  soul. 

That  no  due  investigation  has  been  made  concern- 
ing the  Form  of  Light  (especially  as  men  have  taken 
great  pains  about  perspective)  may  be  considered  an 

1  Virg.  ,En.  iii.  39. 


58  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

astonishing  piece  of  negligence.  For  neither  in  per- 
spective nor  otherwise  has  any  inquiry  been  made 
about  Light  which  is  of  any  value.  The  radiations  of 
it  are  handled,  not  the  origins.  But  it  is  the  placing 
of  perspective  among  the  mathematics  that  has  caused 
this  defect,  and  others  of  the  kind  ;  for  thus  a  prema- 
ture departure  has  been  made  from  Physics.  Again 
the  manner  in  which  Light  and  its  causes  are  handled 
in  Physics  is  somewhat  superstitious,  as  if  it  were  a 
thing  half  way  between  things  divine  and  things  nat- 
ural ;  insomuch  that  some  of  the  Platonists  have  made 
it  older  than  matter  itself;  asserting  upon  a  most  vain 
notion  that  when  space  was  spread  forth  it  was  filled 
first  with  light,  and  afterwards  with  body ;  whereas 
the  Holy  Scriptures  distinctly  state  that  there  was  a 
dark  mass  of  heaven  and  earth  before  light  was  created. 
And  where  the  subject  is  handled  physically  and  ac- 
cording to  sense,  it  comes  at  once  to  questions  of  radia- 
tion ;  so  that  there  is  but  little  physical  inquiry  extant 
on  the  matter.  Now  men  ought  to  have  sunk  their 
speculations  for  awhile,  and  inquired  what  that  is 
which  is  common  to  all  lucid  bodies ;  in  other  words, 
into  the  Form  of  Light.  For  see  what  an  immense 
difference  of  body  there  is  (if  they  be  considered  ac- 
cording to  their  dignity)  between  the  sun  and  rotten 
wood,  or  even  the  putrified  scales  of  fish  ?  They 
should  also  have  inquired  why  some  things  take  fire 
and  throw  out  light  when  heated,  and  others  not. 
Iron,  metals,  stones,  glass,  wood,  oil,  tallow,  when  they 
are  subjected  to  fire,  either  break  into  flame,  or  at  least 
become  red ;  but  water  and  air  do  not  acquire  any 
light  from  the  most  intense  and  raging  heat,  nor  cast 
forth  any  brightness.  And  if  any  one  thinks  that  this 


THE  FOURTH  BOOK.  5S 

is  because  it  is  the  property  of  fire  to  shine,  and  air 
and  water  are  entirely  hostile  to  fire,  he  can  never 
have  rowed  on  the  sea  on  a  dark  night  in  hot  weather ; 
when  he  would  have  seen  the  drops  of  water  that  are 
struck  up  by  the  oars  glittering  and  shining :  a  thing 
which  happens  likewise  in  the  boiling  sea-froth,  which 
they  call  "  sea-lungs."  Lastly,  what  connexion  with 
fire  and  lighted  matter  have  glowworms  and  fireflies, 
and  the  Indian  fly,  which  lights  up  a  whole  room ;  or 
the  eyes  of  some  animals  in  the  dark ;  or  sugar  while 
it  is  being  scraped  or  broken ;  or  the  sweat  of  a  horse, 
hard-ridden  on  a  hot  night ;  and  the  like  ?  Nay,  so 
little  is  this  subject  understood,  that  most  people  think 
sparks  from  flint  to  be  but  air  in  friction.  And  yet 
since  the  air  does  not  take  fire  with  heat,  and  mani- 
festly conceives  light,  how  happens  it  that  owls  and 
cats  and  some  other  animals  can  see  by  night?  It 
must  needs  be  (since  sight  cannot  pass  without  light) 
that  the  air  has  some  pure  and  natural  light  of  its 
own,  which,  though  very  faint  and  dull,  is  nevertheless 
suited  to  the  visual  organs  of  such  animals,  and  enables 
them  to  see.  But  the  reason  of  this  error  (as  of  most 
others)  is  that  men  have  not  from  particular  instances 
elicited  the  Common  Forms  of  natures  ;  which  I  have 
laid  down  as  the  proper  subject  of  Metaphysic,  which 
is  itself  a  part  of  Physic,  or  of  the  doctrine  concerning 
nature.  Wherefore  let  inquiry  be  made  of  the  Form 
and  Origins  of  Light,  and  in  the  meantime  let  it  be  set 
down  as  deficient.  And  so  much  for  the  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  substance  of  the  soul  both  rational  and 
sensible,  with  its  faculties ;  and  for  the  appendices  of 
that  doctrine. 


BOOK  V. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Division  of  the  Doctrine  concerning  the  Use  and  Objects 
of  the  Faculties  of  the  Human  Soul  into  Logic  and 
Ethic.  Division  of  Logic  into  the  Arts  of  Discover- 
ing, of  Judging,  of  Retaining,  and  of  Transmitting. 

THE  doctrine  concerning  the  Intellect  (most  excel- 
lent King),  and  the  doctrine  concerning  the  Will  of 
man,  are  as  it  were  twins  by  birth.  For  purity  of 
illumination  and  freedom  of  will  began  and  fell  to- 
gether ;  and  nowhere  in  the  universal  nature  of  things 
is  there  so  intimate  a  sympathy  as  between  truth  and 
goodness.  The  more  should  learned  men  be  ashamed, 
if  in  knowledge  they  be  as  the  winged  angels,  but  in 
their  desires  as  crawling  serpents ;  carrying  about  with 
them  minds  like  a  mirror  indeed,  but  a  mirror  polluted 
and  false. 

I  come  now  to  the  knowledge  which  respects  the 
use  and  objects  of  the  faculties  of  the  human  soul.  It 
has  two  parts,  and  those  well  known  and  by  general 
agreement  admitted ;  namely,  Logic  and  Ethic  ;  only 
Civil  Knowledge,  which  is  commonly  ranked  as  a  part 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  61 

of  Ethic,  I  have  already  emancipated  and  erected  into 
an  entire  doctrine  by  itself,  —  the  doctrine  concerning 
man  congregate,  or  in  society  ;  and  in  this  place  I 
treat  only  of  man  segregate.  Logic  discourses  of  the 
Understanding  and  Reason  ;  Ethic  of  the  Will,  Appe- 
tite, and  Affections :  the  one  produces  determinations, 
the  other  actions.  It  is  true  indeed  that  the  imagina- 
tion performs  the  office  of  an  agent  or  messenger  or 
proctor  in  both  provinces,  both  the  judicial  and  the 
ministerial.  For  sense  sends  all  kinds  of  images  over 
to  imagination  for  reason  to  judge  of;  and  reason  again 
when  it  has  made  its  judgment  and  selection,  sends 
them  over  to  imagination  before  the  decree  be  put  in 
execution.  For  voluntary  motion  is  ever  preceded 
and  incited  by  imagination ;  so  that  imagination  is  as 
a  common  instrument  to  both,  —  both  reason  and  will ; 
saving  that  this  Janus  of  imagination  has  two  different 
faces  ;  for  the  face  towards  reason  has  the  print  of 
truth,  and  the  face  towards  action  has  the  print  of 
goodness ;  which  nevertheless  are  faces, 

quales  decet  esse  sororum.1 

Neither  is  the  imagination  simply  and  only  a  mes- 
senger; but  it  is  either  invested  with  or  usurps  no 
small  authority  in  itself,  besides  the  simple  duty  of  the 
message.  For  it  was  well  said  by  Aristotle,  "  That 
the  mind  has  over  the  body  that  commandment  which 
the  lord  has  over  a  bondman  ;  but  that  reason  has  over 
the  imagination  that  commandment  which  a  magistrate 
has  over  a  free  citizen,"  2  who  may  come  also  to  rule 
in  his  turn.  For  we  see  that  in  matters  of  faith  and 

V 

1  Ov.  Met.  ii.  14. :  —  Such  as  sisters'  faces  should  be. 
a  Arist.  Pol.  i.  3. 


62  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

religion  our  imagination  raises  itself  above  our  reason  ; 
not  that  divine  illumination  resides  in  the  imagination ; 
its  seat  being  rather  in  the  very  citadel  of  the  mind 
and  understanding ;  but  that  the  divine  grace  uses  the 
motions  of  the  imagination  as  an  instrument  of  illumi- 
nation, just  as  it  uses  the  motions  of  the  will  as  an 
instrument  of  virtue  ;  which  is  the  reason  why  religion 
ever  sought  access  to  the  mind  by  similitudes,  types, 
parables,  visions,  dreams.  And  again  it  is  no  small 
dominion  which  imagination  holds  in  persuasions  that 
are  wrought  by  eloquence  ;  for  when  by  arts  of  speech 
men's  minds  are  soothed,  inflamed,  and  carried  hither 
and  thither,  it  is  all  done  by  stimulating  the  imagina- 
tion till  it  becomes  ungovernable,  and  not  only  sets 
reason  at  nought,  but  offers  violence  to  it,  partly  by 
blinding,  partly  by  incensing  it.  Nevertheless,  I  see 
no  cause  to  alter  the  former  division  ;  for  imagina- 
tion hardly  produces  sciences  ;  poesy  (which  in  the 
beginning  was  referred  to  imagination)  being  to  be 
accounted  rather  as  a  pleasure  or  play  of  wit  than 
a  science.  And  for  the  power  of  the  imagination  in 
nature,  I  have  just  now  assigned  it  to  the  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  soul.  And  its  relation  to  rhetoric  I  think 
best  to  refer  to  that  art  itself,  which  I  shall  handle 
hereafter. 

That  part  of  human  philosophy  which  regards  Logic 
is  less  delightful  to  the  taste  and  palate  of  most  minds, 
and  seems  but  a  net  of  subtlety  and  spinosity.  For 
as  it  is  truly  said  that  "  knowledge  is  the  food  of  the 
mind,"  so  in  their  choice  and  appetite  for  this  food 
most  men  are  of  the  taste  and  stomach  of  the  Israel- 
ites in  the  desert,  that  would  fain  have  returned  to  the 
flesh-pots,  and  were  weary  of  manna ;  which  though 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  63 

it  were  celestial,  yet  seemed  less  nutritive  and  com- 
fortable. And  in  like  manner  those  sciences  are  (for 
the  most  part)  best  liked  which  have  some  infusion  of 
flesh  and  blood ;  such  as  civil  history,  morality,  policy, 
about  which  men's  affections,  praises,  fortunes,  turn 
and  are  occupied.  But  this  same  "  dry  light "  parches 
and  offends  most  men's  soft  and  watery  natures.  But 
to  speak  truly  of  things  as  they  are  in  worth,  rational 
knowledges  are  the  keys  of  all  other  arts.  And  as  the 
hand  is  the  instrument  of  instruments,  and  mind  is  the 
form  of  forms,  so  these  are  truly  said  to  be  the  arts  of 
arts.  Neither  do  they  only  direct,  but  likewise  con- 
firm and  strengthen  ;  even  as  the  habit  of  shooting  not 
only  enables  one  to  take  a  better  aim,  but  also  to  draw 
a  stronger  bow. 

The  logical  arts  are  four  in  number ;  divided  accord- 
ing to  the  ends  at  which  they  aim.  For  men's  labour 
in  rational  knowledges  is  either  to  invent  that  which 
is  sought,  or  to  judge  that  which  is  invented,  or  to  re- 
tain that  which  is  judged,  or  to  deliver  over  that  which 
is  retained.  So  therefore  the  Rational  Arts  must  be 
four ;  Art  of  Inquiry  or  Invention  ;  Art  of  Examina- 
tion or  Judgment;  Art  of  Custody  or  Memory;  and 
Art  of  Elocution  or  Tradition.  Of  these  I  will  now 
speak  separately. 


64  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


CHAP.  II. 

Division  of  the  Art  of  Discovery  into  discovery  of  Arts 
and  discovery  of  Arguments :  and  that  the  former  of 
these  (which  is  the  most  important}  is  wanting.  Di- 
vision of  the  Art  of  Discovery  of  Arts  into  Learned 
Experience  and  the  New  Organon.  Description  of 
Learned  Experience. 

INVENTION  is  of  two  kinds,  very  different ;  the  one 
of  arts  and  sciences,  and  the  other  of  speech  and  argu- 
ments. The  former  of  these  I  report  altogether  de- 
ficient, which  seems  to  me  to  be  such  a  deficience,  as 
if  in  the  making  of  an  inventory  touching  the  estate 
of  a  deceased  person,  it  should  be  set  down  that  "  there 
is  no  ready  money."  For  as  money  will  fetch  all  other 
commodities,  so  by  this  art  all  the  rest  are  obtained. 
And  as  the  West  Indies  would  never  have  been  dis- 
covered if  the  use  of  the  mariner's  needle  had  not 
been  discovered  first,  though  the  one  be  vast  regions 
and  the  other  a  small  motion ;  so  it  cannot  be  found 
strange  if  no  further  progress  has  been  made  in  the 
discovery  and  advancement  of  the  arts,  when  the  art 
itself  of  discovery  and  invention  has  as  yet  been  passed 
over. 

That  this  part  of  knowledge  is  wanting  stands  plainly 
confessed.  For  in  the  first  place,  Logic  says  nothing, 
no  nor  takes  any  thought,  about  the  invention  of  arts, 
whether  mechanical  or  what  are  termed  liberal,  or 
about  eliciting  the  works  of  the  one  or  the  axioms  of 
the  other ;  but  passes  on,  merely  telling  men  by  the 
way  that  for  the  principles  of  each  art  they  must  con- 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  65 

suit  the  professor  of  it.  Celsus,  a  wise  man  as  well  as 
a  physician,  (though  all  men  are  wont  to  be  large  in 
praise  of  their  own  art)  acknowledges  gravely  and  in- 
genuously, speaking  of  the  empirical  and  dogmatical 
sects  of  physicians,  that  medicines  and  cures  were 
first  found  out,  and  then  afterwards  the  reasons  and 
causes  were  discovered  ;  and  not  the  causes  first 
found  out  from  the  nature  of  things,  and  by  light  from 
them  the  medicines  and  cures  discovered.  And  Plato 
more  than  once  intimates,  "  that  particulars  are  in- 
finite ;  and  the  higher  generalities  give  no  sufficient 
direction  ;  that  the  pith  therefore  of  all  sciences,  which 
makes  the  artsman  differ  from  the  inexpert,  is  in  the 
middle  propositions,  which  in  every  particular  knowl- 
edge are  taken  from  tradition  and  experience."  More- 
over they  who  have  written  about  the  first  inventors 
of  things  or  the  origins  of  sciences  have  celebrated 
chance  rather  than  art,  and  represented  brute  beasts, 
quadrupeds,  birds,  fishes,  serpents,  as  the  doctors  of 
sciences,  rather  than  men : 

Dictamnum  genitrix  Cretrea  carpit  ab  Ida, 
Puberibus  caulem  foliis,  et  flore  comantem 
Purpureo :  non  ilia  feris  incognita  capris 
Gramina,  cum  tergo  volucres  ha:sere  sagittse.1 

So  that  it  is  no  marvel  (the  manner  of  antiquity  being 
to  consecrate  inventors  of  useful  things)  that  the  an- 
cient Egyptians  (to  whom  very  many  of  the  arts  owe 

l  Virg.  Mn.  xii.  412. :  — 

Far  off  in  Cretan  Ide  a  plant  there  grew 
With  downy  leaves  and  flower  of  purple  hue, 
The  dittany,  whose  medicinable  power 
The  wild  goat  proves  whene'er  in  evil  hour 
The  hunter's  arrow  lodges  in  his  side. 

VOL.  IX.  5 


66  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

their  origin)  had  so  few  human  idols  in  their  temples, 
but  almost  all  brute ; 

Omnigenumque  Deum  monstra,  et  latrator  Anubis, 
Contra  Neptunum,  et  Venerem,  contraque  Minervam,  &C.1 

And  if  you  like  better,  according  to  the  tradition  of 
the  Greeks,  to  ascribe  the  first  inventions  to  men  ;  yet 
you  would  not  say  that  Prometheus  was  led  by  specu- 
lation to  the  discovery  of  fire,  or  that  when  he  first 
struck  the  flint  he  expected  the  spark  ;  but  rather  that 
he  lighted  on  it  by  accident,  and  (as  they  say)  stole  it 
from  Jupiter.  So  that  in  the  invention  of  arts  it  would 
seem  that  hitherto  men  are  rather  beholden  to  a  wild 
goat  for  surgery,  to  a  nightingale  for  music,  to  the  ibis 
for  clysters,  to  the  pot  lid  that  flew  open  for  artillery, 
and  in  a  word  to  chance,  or  anything  else,  rather  than 
to  Logic.  Neither  is  that  form  of  invention  much 
other  which  is  well  described  by  Virgil, 

Ut  varias  usus  meditando  extunderet  artes 
Paulatim.2 

For  here  no  other  method  of  invention  is  proposed 
than  that  which  the  brute  beasts  are  capable  of  and 
frequently  use ;  which  is  an  extreme  solicitude  about 
some  one  thing,  and  perpetual  practising  of  it,  such  as 
the  necessity  of  self-preservation  imposes  on  such  ani- 
mals. For  so  Cicero  says  very  truly,  "  that  practice 
constantly  applied  to  one  thing  often  does  more  than 

l  Virg.  JEn.  viii.  698. :  — 

All  kinds  and  chapes  of  gods,  a  monstrous  host, 
The  dog  Anubis  foremost,  stood  arrayed 
'Gainst  Neptune,  Venus,  Pallas,  &c. 

•Virg.  Georg.  i.  133.:  — 

So  might  long  use,  with  studious  thought  combined, 
The  various  arts  by  slow  endeavour  find. 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  67 

either  nature  or  art." l  And  therefore  if  it  be  said  of 
men, 

Labor  omnia  vincit 

Improbus,  et  duns  urgens  in  rebus  egestas;2 

it  is  likewise  said  of  brutes, 

Quis  expedivit  psittaco  suum  Xaips  ?  8 

Who  taught  the  raven  in  a  drought  to  throw  pebbles 
into  a  hollow  tree  where  she  espied  water,  that  the 
water  might  rise  till  she  could  reach  it  with  her  beak  ? 
Who  showed  the  way  to  the  bees,  that  sail  through 
such  a  vast  sea  of  air  to  fields  in  flower  far  removed 
from  their  hive,  and  back  again?  Who  taught  the 
ant  to  bite  the  grains  of  corn  that  she  lays  up  in  her 
hill,  lest  they  should  sprout  and  so  disappoint  her  hope  ? 
And  in  that  line  of  Virgil,  if  the  word  "  extundere," 
which  imports  the  difficulty,  and  the  word  "  paulatim,'J 
which  imports  the  slowness  of  the  thing,  be  observed, 
we  shall  find  ourselves  where  we  were,  amongst  those 
gods  of  the  Egyptians ;  for  men  have  hitherto  used  the 
faculty  of  reason  but  little,  and  the  office  of  art  not  at 
all,  for  the  discovery  of  inventions. 

Secondly,  this  very  thing  which  I  assert  is  demon- 
strated (if  you  observe  it  carefully)  by  the  form  of  in- 
duction which  Logic  proposes,  as  that  whereby  the 
principles  of  sciences  may  be  invented  and  proved  ; 
which  form  is  utterly  vicious  and  incompetent,  and  so 
far  from  perfecting  nature,  that  contrariwise  it  per- 
verts and  distorts  her.  For  he  that  shall  attentively 

1  Cicero,  Pro  Balbo,  c.  20. 

2  Virg.  Georg.  i.  145. :  — 

Stern  labour  masters  all, 

And  want  in  poverty  importunate. 

8  Persius,  Prolog. :  —  Who  taught  the  parrot  to  say  how  d'  ye  do? 


00     TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

observe  how  the  mind  gathers  this  excellent  dew  of 
knowledge,  like  to  that  the  poet  speaks  of, 

aiirei  mellis  coelestia  dona,1 

(for  the  sciences  themselves  are  extracted  out  of  par- 
ticular instances,  partly  natural  partly  artificial,  as  the 
flowers  of  the  field  and  the  garden)  shall  find  that  the 
mind  does  of  herself  by  nature  manage  and  act  an  in- 
duction much  better  than  logicians  describe  it ;  for  to 
conclude  upon  a  bare  enumeration  of  particulars  (as 
the  logicians  do)  without  instance  contradictory,  is  a 
vicious  conclusion  ;  nor  does  this  kind  of  induction 
produce  more  than  a  probable  conjecture.  For  who 
can  assure  himself,  when  the  particulars  which  he 
knows  or  remembers  only  appear  on  one  side,  that 
there  are  not  others  on  the  contrary  side  which  appear 
not?  As  if  Samuel  should  have  rested  upon  those 
sons  of  Jesse  who  were  brought  before  him  in  the 
house,  and  not  sought  for  David,  who  was  in  the  field.2 
And  this  form  of  induction  (to  say  truth)  is  so  gross 
and  stupid,  that  it  had  not  been  possible  for  wits  so 
acute  and  subtle  as  those  that  have  studied  these 
things  to  offer  it  to  the  world,  but  that  they  were 
hurrying  on  to  their  theories  and  dogmaticals,  and 
were  too  dainty  and  lofty  to  pay  clue  attention  to  par- 
ticulars, and  especially  to  dwell  any  time  upon  them. 
For  they  used  examples  or  particular  instances  but  as 
Serjeants  or  whifflers  to  drive  back  the  crowd  and  make 
way  for  their  opinions,  and  never  called  them  into 
council  from  the  first,  for  the  purpose  of  legitimate  and 
mature  deliberation  concerning  the  truth  of  things. 
Certainly  it  is  a  thing  that  may  touch  a  man  with  a 

1  Virg.  Georg.  iv.  1.:  —  The  heavenly  gift  of  aerial  honey. 
'  1  Sam.  xvi. 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  69 

religious  wonder  to  see  how  the  footsteps  of  seduce- 
ment  are  the  very  same  in  divine  and  human  truth. 
For  as  in  the  perception  of  divine  truth  man  cannot 
induce  himself  to  become  as  a  child ;  so  in  the  study 
of  human  truth,  for  grown-up  men  to  be  still  reading 
and  conning  over  the  first  elements  of  inductions  like 
boys,  is  accounted  poor  and  contemptible. 

Thirdly,  even  if  it  be  granted  that  the  principles  of 
sciences  may,  by  the  induction  which  is  in  use,  or  by 
sense  and  experience,  be  rightly  established ;  yet  it  is 
very  certain  that  the  lower  axioms  cannot  (in  things 
natural,  which  participate  of  matter)  be  rightly  and 
safely  deduced  from  them  by  syllogism.  For  in  the 
syllogism  propositions  are  reduced  to  principles  through 
intermediate  propositions.  Now  this  form  of  invention 
or  of  probation  may  be  used  in  popular  sciences,  such 
as  ethics,  politics,  laws,  and  the  like  ;  yea,  and  in  divin- 
ity also,  because  it  has  pleased  God  of  his  goodness  to 
accommodate  himself  to  the  capacity  of  man ;  but  in 
Physics,  where  the  point  is  not  to  master  an  adversary 
in  argument,  but  to  command  nature  in  operation,  truth 
slips  wholly  out  of  our  hands,  because  the  subtlety 
of  nature  is  so  much  greater  than  the  subtlety  of 
words ;  so  that,  syllogism  failing,  the  aid  of  induction 
(I  mean  the  true  and  reformed  induction)  is  wanted 
everywhere,  as  well  for  the  more  general  principles  as 
for  intermediate  propositions.  For  syllogisms  consist 
of  propositions,  and  propositions  of  words ;  and  words 
are  but  the  current  tokens  or  marks  of  popular  notions 
of  things  ;  wherefore  if  these  notions  (which  are  the 
souls  of  words)  be  grossly  and  variably  collected  out 
of  particulars,  the  whole  structure  falls  to  pieces.  And 
it  is  not  the  laborious  examination  either  of  conse- 


70  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMEXTIS. ' 

quences  of  arguments  or  of  the  truth  of  propositions 
that  can  ever  correct  that  error ;  being  (as  the  physi- 
cians say)  in  the  first  digestion ;  which  is  not  to  be 
rectified  by  the  subsequent  functions.  And  therefore 
it  was  not  without  great  and  evident  reason  that  so 
many  philosophers  (some  of  them  most  eminent)  be- 
came Sceptics  and  Academics,  and  denied  any  cer- 
tainty of  knowledge  or  comprehension ;  affirming  that 
the  knowledge  of  man  extended  only  to  appearances 
and  probabilities.  It  is  true  that  Socrates,  when  he 
disclaimed  certainty  of  knowledge  for  himself,  is  thought 
by  some  to  have  done  it  only  in  irony,  and  to  have  en- 
hanced his  knowledge  by  dissembling  it ;  pretending 
not  to  know  that  which  it  was  plain  he  knew,  in  order 
that  he  might  be  thought  to  know  also  that  which  he 
knew  not.  And  in  the  later  academy  too  (which  Ci- 
cero embraced)  that  opinion  of  the  incapacity  of  the 
mind  to  comprehend  truth  was  not  held  very  sincerely. 
For  those  who  excelled  in  eloquence  commonly  chose 
that  sect,  for  the  glory  of  speaking  copiously  on  either 
side  of  the  question ;  whereby  they  were  led  astray 
from  the  straight  road,  which  they  ought  to  have  fol- 
lowed in  pursuit  of  truth,  into  certain  pleasant  walks 
laid  out  for  amusement  and  recreation.  It  is  certain 
however  that  there  were  some  here  and  there  in  both 
academies  (both  old  and  new)  and  much  more  among 
the  Sceptics,  who  held  this  opinion  in  simplicity  and 
integrity.  But  their  great  error  was,  that  they  laid 
the  blame  upon  the,  perceptions  of  the  sense,  and 
thereby  pulled  up  the  sciences  by  the  very  roots. 
Now  the  senses,  though  they  often  deceive  us  or  fail 
us,  may  nevertheless,  with  diligent  assistance,  suffice 
for  knowledge ;  and  that  by  the  help  not  so  much  of 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  71 

instruments  (though  these  too  are  of  some  usu)  as 
of  those  experiments  which  produce  and  urge  things 
which  are  too  subtle  for  the  sense  to  some  effect  com- 
prehensible by  the  sense.  But  they  ought  rather  to 
have  charged  the  defect  upon  the  mind  —  as  well  its 
contumacy  (whereby  it  refuses  to  submit  itself  to  the 
nature  of  things)  as  its  errors,  —  and  upon  false  forms 
of  demonstration,  and  ill-ordered  methods  of  reason- 
ing and  concluding  upon  the  perception  of  the  senses. 
But  this  I  say  not  to  disable  the  intellect,  or  to  urge 
the  abandonment  of  the  enterprise ;  but  to  stir  men 
to  provide  the  intellect  with  proper  helps  for  over- 
coming the  difficulties  and  obscurities  of  nature.  For 
no  steadiness  of 'hand  or  amount  of  practice  will  en- 
able a  man  to  draw  a  straight  line  or  perfect  circle  by 
hand  alone,  which  is  easily  done  by  help  of  a  ruler  or 
compass.  And  this  is  the  very  thing  which  I  am  pre- 
paring and  labouring  at  with  all  my  might,  —  to  make 
the  mind  of  man  by  help  of  art  a  match  for  the  nature 
of  things ;  to  discover  an  art  of  Indication  and  Direc- 
tion, whereby  all  other  arts  with  their  axioms  and 
works  may  be  detected  and  brought  to  light.  For 
this  I  have  with  good  reason  set  down  as  wanting. 

This  Art  of  Indication  (for  so  I  call  it)  has  two 
parts.  For  the  indication  either  proceeds  from  one 
experiment  to  another ;  or  else  from  experiments  to 
axioms ;  which  axioms  themselves  suggest  new  experi- 
ments. The  one  of  these  I  will  term  Learned  Experi- 
ence, the  other  Interpretation  of  Nature,  or  the  New 
Organon.  But  the  former  (as  I  have  hinted  else- 
where) must  hardly  be  esteemed  an  art  or  a  part  of 
philosophy,  but  rather  a  kind  of  sagacity ;  whence  like- 
wise (borrowing  the  name  from  the  fable)  I  sometimes 


72  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  4<  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

call  it  the  Hunt  of  Pan.  Nevertheless  as  a  man  may 
proceed  on  his  path  in  three  ways :  he  may  grope  his 
way  for  himself  in  the  dark;  he  may  be  led  by  the 
hand  of  another,  without  himself  seeing  anything;  or 
lastly,  he  may  get  a  light,  and  so  direct  his  steps ;  in 
like  manner  when  a  man  tries  all  kinds  of  experiments 
without  order  or  method,  this  is  but  groping  in  the 
dark ;  but  when  he  uses  some  direction  and  order  in 
experimenting,  it  is  as  if  he  were  led  by  the  hand ;  and 
this  is  what  I  mean  by  Learned  Experience.  For  the 
light  itself,  which  was  the  third  way,  is  to  be  sought 
from  the  Interpretation  of  Nature,  or  the  New  Organon. 

Learned  Experience,  or  the  Hunt  of  Pan,  treats  of 
the  methods  of  experimenting ;  and  (since  I  have  set 
it  down  as  wanting,  and  the  thing  itself  is  not  alto- 
gether obvious)  I  will  here,  according  to  my  plan  and 
custom,  give  some  shadow  of  it.  The  method  of  ex- 
perimenting proceeds  principally  either  by  the  Vari- 
ation, or  the  Production,  or  the  Translation,  or  the 
Inversion,  or  the  Compulsion,  or  the  Application,  or 
the  Conjunction,  or  finally  the  Chances,  of  experi- 
ment. None  of  these  however  extend  so  far  as  to  tho 
invention  of  any  axiom.  For  all  transition  from  experi- 
ments to  axioms,  or  from  axioms  to  experiments,  be- 
longs to  that  other  part,  relating  to  the  New  Organon. 

Variation  of  experiment  takes  place  first  in  the  Mat- 
ter ;  that  is,  when  in  things  already  known  an  experi- 
ment has  scarcely  been  tried  except  in  a  certain  kind 
of  matter,  but  now  is  tried  in  other  things  of  a  like 
kind;  as  the  manufacture  of  paper  has  been  only 
tried  in  linen,  not  in  silks  (except  perhaps  among  the 
Chinese) ;  nor  yet  in  hair  stuffs,  from  which  what  are 
called  chamblets  are  made ;  nor  in  wools,  cotton,  and 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  73 

skins ;  though  these  three  last  seem  to  he  more  hete- 
rogeneous, so  that  they  may  be  more  useful  if  mixed 
together  than  separate.  Grafting  again  is  common  in 
fruit  trees,  but  has  been  seldom  tried  on  wild  trees ; 
though  it  is  said  that  the  elm  when  grafted  on  the  elm 
produces  a  wonderful  foliage.  Grafting  in  flowers  is 
likewise  very  rare,  though  now  it  is  sometimes  done  in 
musk-roses,  which  are  successfully  inoculated  with  the 
common  roses.  Variation  in  the  part  of  a  thing  I  like- 
wise set  down  among  variations  in  matter.  For  we 
see  that  a  sucker  grafted  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree  grows 
better  than  if  planted  in  the  ground.  Why  then 
should  not  the  seed  of  an  onion,  inserted  into  the  head 
of  another  onion  when  green,  grow  better  than  if  sown 
by  itself  in  the  ground  ?  Here  the  root  is  substituted 
for  the  trunk,  so  that  this  may  be  regarded  as  a  kind 
of  grafting  in  the  root.  Variation  of  experiment  takes 
place  secondly  in  the  efficient.  The  rays  of  the  sun 
are  so  intensified  in  heat  by  burning-glasses,  that  they 
can  set  on  fire  any  combustible  matter ;  can  the  rays 
of  the  moon  by  the  same  process  be  actuated  to  any 
degree  of  heat  however  mild  ?  that  we  may  see 
whether  all  heavenly  bodies  have  the  power  of  heat- 
ing. So  again,  radiant  heats  are  increased  by  glasses ; 
can  the  same  effect  be  produced  on  opaque  heats  (as 
of  stones  and  metals,  before  they  are  red-hot),  or  has 
light  something  to  do  with  it  ?  So  again  amber  and 
jet  when  rubbed  attract  straws ;  will  they  do  the  same 
when  warmed  by  fire  ?  Variation  of  experiment  takes 
place  thirdly  in  Quantity ;  which  must  be  treated  with 
great  care,  as  it  is  surrounded  by  many  errors.  For 
men  believe  that  if  the  quantity  be  increased  or  multi- 
plied, the  power  and  virtue  is  increased  or  multiplied 


74  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

proportionately.  And  this  they  postulate  and  suppose 
as  if  it  had  a  kind  of  mathematical  certainty ;  which 
is  utterly  false.  A  leaden  ball  of  a  pound  weight 
dropped  from  a  tower  reaches  the  ground  in  (say)  ten 
seconds :  will  a  ball  of  two  pounds  weight  (in  which 
the  force  of  natural  motion,  as  they  call  it,  ought  to 
be  doubled)  reach  the  ground  in  five  seconds?  No, 
but  it  will  take  almost  the  same  time  in  falling,  and 
will  not  be  accelerated  in  proportion  to  the  increase 
of  quantity.  Again,  suppose  one  drachm  of  sulphur 
mixed  with  half  a  pound  of  steel  will  melt  it  and  make 
it  liquid;  will  therefore  one  ounce  of  sulphur  mixed 
with  four  pounds  of  steel  be,  able  to  melt  it?  This 
does  not  follow ;  for  it  is  certain  that  the  obstinacy  of 
matter  in  the  patient  is  more  increased  by  quantity  than 
the  active  power  of  the  agent.  Besides,  both  over- 
much and  over-little  equally  prejudice  the  effect.  For 
in  the  smelting  and  refining  of  metals  it  is  a  common 
error  to  suppose  that  in  order  to  advance  the  smelting 
either  the  heat  of  the  fire  or  the  quantity  of  the  added 
ingredient  should  be  increased ;  whereas,  if  these  sur- 
pass the  due  proportion,  they  retard  the  operation ;  be- 
cause by  their  power  and  acrimony  they  turn  much  of 
the  pure  metal  into  fumes,  and  carry  it  off',  so  as  both 
to  cause  a  loss  of  metal  and  to  make  the  remaining 
mass  more  hard  and  intractable.  Men  should  there- 
fore consider  the  story  of  the  woman  in  jiEsop,  who  ex- 
pected that  with  a  double  measure  of  barley  her  hen 
would  lay  two  eggs  a  day ;  whereas  the  hen  grew  fat 
and  laid  none.  As  a  rule  then,  it  will  not  be  safe  to 
rely  on  any  experiment  in  nature,  unless  it  has  been 
tried  both  in  greater  and  lesser  quantities.  And  so 
much  for  Variation  of  Experiment. 


THE   FIFTH   BOOK.  75 

Production  of  experiment  is  of  two  kinds  ;  repetition 
and  extension ;  that  is  when  the  experiment  is  either 
repeated,  or  urged  to  some  effect  more  subtle.  As  an 
instance  of  repetition  :  spirit  of  wine  is  made  from 
wine  by  a  simple  distillation,  and  is  much  more  pun- 
gent and  stronger  than  wine  itself;  will  then  spirit  of 
wine,  if  it  be  itself  distilled  and  clarified,  proportion- 
ately exceed  itself  in  strength  ?  But  repetition  also  is 
not  free  from  fallacy.  For  in  the  second  exaltation  the 
difference  is  not  so  great  as  in  the  first ;  and  besides, 
by  the  repetition  of  an  experiment,  after  the  operation 
has  reached  a  certain  standing  point  or  acme,  nature 
oftentimes  is  so  far  from  advancing  that  she  rather  in- 
clines to  relapse.  Judgment  therefore  is  to  be  exer- 
cised in  this  matter.  Again,  quicksilver  put  into  linen 
or  into  the  middle  of  molten  lead  when  it  is  beginning 
to  cool  again,  becomes  solid,  and  is  no  longer  fluid ; 
will  therefore  tliis  same  quicksilver,  by  many  repeti- 
tions of  the  operation,  become  fixed  and  malleable  ? 
As  an  example  of  extension ;  if  water  be  put  into  a 
glass  with  a  long  neb  and  hung  up,  and  then  the  neb 
be  dipped  into  a  mixture  of  wine  and  water  under- 
neath, it  will  separate  the  water  from  the  wine,  the 
wine  gradually  rising  to  the  top,  the  water  sinking  to 
the  bottom ;  will  it  likewise  happen  that  as  wine  and 
water  (being  different  bodies)  are  by  this  device  sepa- 
rated, so  the  finer  parts  of  wine  (being  of  the  same 
body)  may  be  separated  from  the  more  gross  ;  so  that 
there  shall  take  place  a  kind  of  distillation  by  gravity, 
and  a  substance  shall  be  found  on  the  top  much  like 
spirits  of  wine,  but  perhaps  more  delicate  ?  Again,  a 
magnet  attracts  a  solid  piece  of  iron  ;  will  a  piece  of  a 
magnet  dipped  in  a  dissolution  of  iron,  attract  the  iron 


76  TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

itself  and  so  get  a  coating  of  iron  ?  Again,  the  mag- 
netic needle  turns  to  the  pole  ;  does  it  in  so  doing  fol- 
low the  same  course  as  the  heavenly  bodies  ?  As  if 
one  should  turn  the  needle  the  wrong  way,  that  is 
point  it  to  the  south,  and  hold  it  there  for  a  while,  and 
then  let  it  go  ;  would  it,  in  returning  to  the  north,  go 
round  by  the  west  rather  than  by  the  east  ?  Again, 
gold  imbibes  quicksilver  when  contiguous  to  it ;  does  it 
receive  this  quicksilver  into  itself  without  extending  its 
bulk,  and  so  become  a  body  heavier  than  gold  itself? 
Again,  men  help  the  memory  by  putting  images  of 
persons  in  places.;  could  the  same  thing  be  done  with- 
out the  places,  by  connecting  actions  or  habits  with 
persons  ?  And  so  much  for  the  Production  of  Exper- 
iment. 

Translation  of  experiment  is  of  three  kinds  :  either 
from  nature  or  chance  into  an  art ;  or  from  one  art  or 
practice  into  another  ;  or  from  a  part  of  one  art  into  a 
different  part  of  the  same.  Of  translation  from  nature 
or  chance  into  an  art  there  are  innumerable  examples ; 
for  almost  all  mechanical  arts  have  sprung  from  small 
beginnings  presented  by  nature  or  chance.  It  was 
received  as  an  adage  "  that  one  cluster  of  grapes  ripens 
faster  by  the  side  of  another;  "  which  has  grown  into 
a  common  saying,  as  applied  to  the  mutual  services 
and  offices  of  friendship.  But  our  cyder  makers  have 
an  excellent  way  of  imitating  the  operation.  For  they 
take  care  not  to  bruise  or  squeeze  the  apples  till  they 
have  lain  together  for  awhile  in  heaps,  and  so  ripened 
by  mutual  contact ;  that  the  too  great  acidity  of  the 
drink  may  be  corrected.  Again,  the  artificial  imitation 
of  rainbows,  with  drops  thickly  sprinkled,  is  translated 
by  an  easy  passage  from  natural  rainbows  formed  by  a 


THE  FIFTH   BOOK.  77 

dripping  cloud.  Again,  the  method  of  distilling  may 
have  been  drawn  either  from  above,  that  is,  from 
showers  and  dew  ;  or  from  that  homely  experiment  of 
drops  adhering  to  the  lids  of  pans  of  boiling  water. 
Nor  would  a  man  have  ventured  to  imitate  thunder 
and  lightning,  if  it  had  not  been  suggested  by  the  pot 
lid  of  the  monkish  chemist  suddenly  flying  up  with 
great  force  and  a  loud  report.  The  more  plentiful  the 
examples  however,  the  fewer  need  be  adduced.  But 
if  men  were  at  leisure  to  inquire  after  useful  things, 
they  ought  to  observe  attentively  and  minutely  and 
systematically  all  natural  works  and  operations,  and  be 
ever  eagerly  considering  which  of  them  may  be  trans- 
ferred to  the  arts.  For  nature  is  the  mirror  of  art. 
Nor  are  the  experiments  fewer  in  number  which  may 
be  transferred  from  one  art  to  another,  or  from  one 
practice  to  another  ;  although  the  thing  is  not  so  com- 
mon. For  nature  meets  everybody  everywhere  ;  but 
particular  arts  are  only  known  to  their  own  artists. 
Spectacles  have  been  invented  to  assist  weak  sight ; 
might  not  some  instrument  be  devised,  which  being 
applied  to  the  ear  would  assist  those  dull  of  healing? 
Dead  bodies  are  preserved  by  honey  and  embalming  ; 
could  not  something  of  the  same  kind  be  transferred 
to  medicine  for  the  benefit  of  live  bodies  ?  The  prac- 
tice of  sealing  upon  wax,  cements,  and  lead  is  of  old 
date  ;  but  it  led  to  impressions  on  paper,  or  the  art  of 
printing.  In  cookery,  salt  preserves  meat,  and  that 
better  in  winter  than  summer ;  might  not  this  be  prof- 
itably transferred  to  baths,  to  regulate  their  tempera- 
ment, when  necessary,  by  impression  or  extraction  ? 
So  in  the  late  experiment  of  artificial  freezing,  salt  is 
discovered  to  have  great  powers  of  condensing ;  may 


78  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

not  this  be  transferred  to  the  condensations  of  metals  ? 
seeing  it  is  already  known  that  strong  waters  composed 
of  certain  salts  precipitate  small  sands  of  gold  from  cer- 
tain metals  not  so  dense  as  gold  itself?  So  again, 
painting  revives  the  memory  of  a  thing  by  the  image 
of  it ;  has  not  this  been  transferred  into  the  art  which 
they  call  the  art  of  memory  ?  Of  these  things  it  may 
be  said  generally,  that  the  best  chance  of  bringing 
down  as  from  heaven  a  shower  of  inventions  at  once 
useful  and  new,  is  to  bring  within  the  knowledge  of 
one  man,  or  of  a  few  who  may  sharpen  one  another  by 
conference,  the  experiments  of  a  number  of  mechan- 
ical arts ;  that  by  this  translation  (as  I  call  it)  of  ex- 
periments the  arts  may  mutually  cherish  and  as  it  were 
kindle  one  another  by  mixture  of  rays.  For  though 
the  rational  method  of  inquiry  by  the  Organon  prom- 
ises far  greater  things  in  the  end,  yet  this  sagacity  pro- 
ceeding by  Learned  Experience  will  in  the  meantime 
present  mankind  with  a  number  of  inventions  which 
lie  near  at  hand,  and  scatter  them  like  the  donatives 
that  used  to  be  thrown  among  the  people.  There  re- 
mains the  translation  from  one  part  of  an  art  to  a  differ- 
ent part ;  which  differs  little  from  the  translation  from 
one  art  into  another.  But  as  some  arts  are  so  exten- 
sive that  the  translation  of  experiments  may  take  place 
within  them,  I  have  thought  it  right  to  annex  this  kind 
also;  especially  as  in  some  arts  it  is  of  great  impor- 
tance. For  it  would  tend  greatly  to  the  advancement 
of  the  art  of  medicine  if  the  experiments  of  that  part 
which  relates  to  the  cure  of  diseases  were  transferred 
to  the  parts  that  are  concerned  with  the  preservation 
of  health  and  the  prolongation  of  life.  For  if  an  ex- 
cellent opiate  is  able  to  assuage  the  raging  fever  of  the 


THE  FIFTH   BOOK.  79 

spirits  in  a  dangerous  disease,  it  need  not  be  doubted 
that  something  of  a  similar  nature,  made  familiar  to  the 
system  by  well-proportioned  doses,  may  likewise  in 
some  measure  check  and  retard  that  continually  ad- 
vancing and  creeping  fever  which  is  the  effect  of  age. 
And  so  much  for  the  Translation  of  Experiment. 

Inversion  of  Experiment  takes  place  when  trial  is 
made  of  the  contrary  of  that  which  has  been  by  the 
experiment  proved.  For  instance,  heat  is  increased  by 
burning-glasses ;  is  cold  also  ?  Again,  heat  spreads 
round,  but  with  a  tendency  upwards  ;  does  cold  spread 
round  with  a  tendency  downwards  ?  For  example  :  take 
an  iron  rod  and  heat  it  at  one  end  ;  then  raise  it,  with 
the  heated  part  downwards  and  the  hand  above  ;  it  will 
barn  the  hand  at  once :  hold  it  with  the  heated  part 
upwards  and  the  hand  below,  it  will  be  much  longer  in 
doing  so.  But  how  if  the  whole  bar  be  heated,  and 
one  end  touched  with  snow  or  with  a  sponge  dipped  in 
cold  water  ?  will  the  cold  travel  downwards,  if  the  snow 
or  sponge  be  applied  to  the  top,  faster  than  upwards  if 
applied  to  the  bottom  ?  Again,  the  rays  of  the  sun 
are  reflected  from  white  but  collected  on  black ;  are 
shadows  likewise  lost  on  black  and  collected  on  white  ? 
As  we  see  in  a  dark  room,  where  the  light  is  only  let 
in  by  a  little  chink,  that  the  images  of  things  outside 
are  received  on  a  white  paper,  but  not  on  a  black. 
Again,  the  megrims  are  relieved  by  opening  a  vein  in 
the  forehead ;  is  a  pain  in  the  forehead  relieved  by 
scarifying  the  skull  ?  And  so  much  for  the  Inversion 
of  Experiment. 

Compulsion  of  Experiment  is  when  an  experiment  is 
urged  and  extended  to  the  annihilation  or  deprivation 
of  the  power ;  for  in  the  other  hunts  the  prey  is  only 


80  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

caught,  but  in  this  it  is  killed.  Here  is  an  example  of 
compulsion.  The  magnet  attracts  iron ;  urge  the  iron 
or  the  magnet  till  it  can  attract  no  longer ;  for  instance, 
if  the  loadstone  be  burnt,  or  steeped  in  aqua  fortis,  will 
it  lose  its  power  entirely  or  for  a  time  ?  On  the  other 
hand,  if  iron  or  steel  be  reduced  to  oxide  of  iron,  or  to 
what  is  termed  prepared  steel,  or  if  it  be  dissolved  in 
aqua  fortis,  will  it  still  be  attracted  by  the  loadstone  ? 
Again,  the  magnet  attracts  iron  through  all  mediums 
we  know  of;  as  gold,  silver,  and  glass ;  find  some 
medium,  if  it  be  possible,  which  will  intercept  the 
power ;  try  quicksilver ;  try  oil,  gums,  ignited  coal,  and 
other  things,  hitherto  untried.  Again,  glasses  have 
lately  been  invented  which  magnify  minute  visible  ob- 
jects in  a  wonderful  manner ;  urge  the  use  of  them  to 
objects  either  so  small  as  to  be  beyond  their  power  or  so 
large  as  to  confound  it.  Thus,  can  they  clearly  detect 
in  urine  things  otherwise  imperceptible  ?  Can  they 
discover  specks  or  flaws  in  jewels  which  appear  every 
way  clear  and  bright  ?  Can  they  make  the  motes  in 
the  sunbeams  (which  were  objected  most  unjustly  to 
Democritus  as  if  they  were  his  atoms  and  principles  of 
things)  appear  like  great  bodies  ?  or  a  thick  powder  of 
vermilion  and  white  lead  appear  so  distinct  that  the  red 
and  the  white  grains  shall  be  seen  separately?  Again, 
can  they  magnify  larger  figures  (say  a  face,  or  an  eye) 
as  much  as  they  can  a  flea  or  a  mite  ?  Can  they  make 
a  piece  of  cambric,  or  any  of  these  finer  and  more  open 
linen  textures,  appear  full  of  holes,  like  a  net  ?  But  on 
the  compulsions  of  experiments  I  dwell  the  less,  be- 
cause they  commonly  fall  outside  the  limits  of  learned 
experience,  and  are  rather  referred  to  causes,  and 
axioms,  and  the  New  Organon.  For  wherever  a  case 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  81 

is  established  of  negation,  privation,  or  exclusion,  there 
is  some  light  given  towards  the  invention  of  Forms. 
And  so  much  for  the  Compulsion  of  Experiment. 

Application  of  Experiment  is  nothing  but  the  ingen- 
ious ti'anslation  of  it  to  some  other  useful  experiment. 
For  instance  ;  all  bodies  have  their  own  dimensions  and 
gravities  ;  gold  has  more  weight,  but  less  dimension 
than  silver ;  water  than  wine.  From  this  is  derived  a 
useful  experiment ;  for  by  taking  the  bulk  and  the  weight 
you  may  know  how  much  silver  has  been  mixed  with 
gold,  or  how  much  water  with  wine ;  which  was  the 
evprjKa.  of  Archimedes.  Again,  flesh  putrefies  sooner  in 
some  cellars  than  in  others  ;  it  would  therefore  be  use- 
ful to  apply  this  experiment  to  the  discovery  of  airs 
more  or  less  healthy  to  live  in ;  those  namely,  in  which 
flesh  is  longest  in  putrefying.  The  same  method  may 
be  applied  to  discover  healthy  and  unhealthy  seasons 
of  the  year.  But  there  are  innumerable  instances  of 
this  kind.  Let  men  only  watch,  and  keep  their  eyes 
continually  turned  to  the  nature  of  things  on  one  side, 
and  to  the  uses  of  man  on  the  other.  And  so  much  for 
the  Application  of  Experiment. 

Coupling  of  Experiment  is  the  link  or  chain  of  ap- 
plications ;  when  things  which  would  be  ineffectual 
singly  are  effectual  in  conjunction.  For  example  ;  you 
wish  to  have  roses  or  fruit  come  late.  It  will  be  ef- 
fected, if  you  pluck  off  the  earlier  buds;  it  will  be  ef- 
fected likewise  if  you  uncover  the  roots  and  expose  them 
to  the  air  until  the  middle  of  spring ;  but  much  more  if 
the  two  be  coupled  together.  Again,  ice  and  nitre 
have  both  of  them  great  power  of  refrigeration ;  much 
more  when  mixed.  This  is  indeed  clear  of  itself. 
And  yet  there  may  often  be  a  deception  in  it  (as  in  all 


82  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

things  else  where  axioms  are  wanting),  if  the  things  so 
coupled  be  such  as  operate  in  different  and  contrary 
ways.  And  so  much  for  Coupling  of  Experiment. 

There  remain  the  Chances  of  Experiment.  This 
form  of  experimenting  is  merely  irrational  and  as  it 
were  mad,  when  you  have  a  mind  to  try  something,  not 
because  reason  or  some  other  experiment  leads  you  to  it, 
out  simply  because  such  a  thing  has  never  been  attempt- 
ed before.  Yet  I  know  not  but  in  this  very  process  (of 
which  we  are  now  treating)  some  great  thing  may  be 
involved ;  the  leaving  (I  say)  of  no  stone  in  nature  un- 
turned. For  the  magnolia  of  nature  generally  lie  out  of 
the  common  roads  and  beaten  paths,  so  that  the  very 
absurdity  of  the  thing  may  sometimes  prove  of  service. 
But  if  reason  go  along  with  it ;  that  is,  if  it  be  evident 
that  an  experiment  of  this  nature  has  never  been  tried, 
and  yet  there  is  great  reason  why  it  should  be  tried ; 
then  it  is  one  of  the  best  ways,  and  plainly  shakes  out 
the  folds  of  nature.  For  instance,  when  fire  works 
upon  a  natural  body,  one  of  two  things  has  hitherto  al- 
ways happened  ;  —  either  that  something  flies  out  (as 
flame  and  smoke  in  common  combustion),  or  at  least 
that  there  is  a  local  separation  of  the  parts,  and  to  some 
distance ;  as  in  distillation,  where  the  dregs  settle  at 
the  bottom,  and  the  vapours,  after  they  have  had  their 
play,  are  gathered  into  receptacles.  But  of  what  I  may 
call  dose  distillation  no  man  has  yet  made  trial.  Yet  it 
seems  probable  that  the  force  of  heat,  if  it  can  perform 
its  exploits  of  alteration  within  the  enclosure  of  the 
body,  where  there  is  neither  loss  of  the  body  nor  yet 
means  of  escape,  will  succeed  at  last  in  handcuffing  this 
Proteus  of  matter,  and  driving  it  to  many  transforma- 
tions ;  only  the  heat  must  be  so  regulated  and  varied, 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  83 

that  there  be  no  fracture  of  the  vessels.  For  this  op- 
eration is  like  that  of  the  womb,  where  the  heat  works, 
and  yet  no  part  of  the  body  is  either  emitted  or  sepa- 
rated. In  the  womb  indeed  alimentation  is  conjoined ; 
but  as  far  as  conversion  is  concerned  it  seems  to  be  the 
same  thing.  Such  then  are  the  Chances  of  Experi- 
ment. 

Meanwhile  I  give  this  advice  as  to  experiments  of 
this  nature  ;  that  no  one  should  be  disheartened  or  con- 
founded if  the  experiments  which  he  tries  do  not  an- 
swer his  expectation.  For  though  a  successful  experi- 
ment be  more  agreeable,  yet  an  unsuccessful  one  is 
oftentimes  no  less  instructive.  And  it  must  ever  be 
kept  in  mind  (as  I  am  continually  urging)  that  ex- 
periments of  Light  are  even  more  to  be  sought  after 
than  experiments  of  Fruit.  And  so  much  for  Learned 
Experience,  which  (as  I  have  already  said)  is  rather  a 
sagacity  and  a  kind  of  hunting  by  scent,  than  a  science. 
Of  the  New  Organon  I  say  nothing,  nor  shall  I  give 
any  taste  of  it  here ;  as  I  purpose  by  the  divine  favour 
to  compose  a  complete  work  on  that  subject,  —  being 
the  most  important  thing  of  all. 


CHAP.  III. 

Division  of  the  art  of  discovery  of  Arguments  into 
Promptuary  and  Topics.  Division  of  Topics  into 
General  and  Particular.  Example  of  a  Particular 
Topic  in  an  Inquiry  concerning  Heavy  and  Light. 

THE  invention  of  arguments  is  not  properly  an  in- 
vention ;  for  to  invent  is  to  discover  that  we  know  not, 


84  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

not  to  recover  or  resummon  that  which  we  already 
know.  Now  the  use  and  office  of  this  invention  is  no 
other  than  out  of  the  mass  of  knowledge  which  is  col- 
lected and  laid  up  in  the  mind  to  draw  forth  readily 
that  which  may  be  pertinent  to  the  matter  or  question 
which  is  under  consideration.  For  to  him  who  has 
little  or  no  knowledge  on  the  subject  proposed,  places 
of  invention  are  of  no  service  ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
he  who  is  ready  provided  with  matter  applicable  to  the 
point  in  question  will,  even  without  art  and  places  of 
invention  (although  perhaps  not  so  expeditiously  and 
easily),  discover  and  produce  arguments.  So  (as  I 
have  said)  this  kind  of  invention  is  not  properly  an  in- 
vention, but  a  remembrance  or  suggestion  with  an  ap- 
plication. Nevertheless,  as  the  name  has  come  into 
use,  let  it  be  called  invention ;  for  the  hunting  of  any 
wild  animal  may  be  called  a  finding  of  it,  as  well  in  an 
enclosed  park  as  in  a  forest  at  large.  But  not  to  be 
nice  about  words,  let  it  be  clearly  understood,  that  the 
scope  and  end  of  this  invention  is  readiness  and  pres- 
ent use  of  our  knowledge,  rather  than  addition  or  am- 
plification thereof. 

Provision  for  discourse  may  be  procured  in  two  ways. 
The  place  where  a  thing  is  to  be  looked  for  may  be 
marked,  and  as  it  were  indexed ;  and  this  is  that  which 
I  call  Topics ;  or  arguments  concerning  such  matters 
as  commonly  fall  out  and  come  under  discussion  may 
be  composed  beforehand  and  laid  up  for  use :  and  this 
I  will  name  the  Promptuary.  This  last  however 
scarcely  deserves  to  be  spoken  of  as  a  part  of  knowl- 
edge, consisting  rather  of  diligence  than  of  any  artifi- 
cial erudition.  And  herein  Aristotle  wittily,  but  hurt- 
ftdly,  derides  the  sophists  of  his  time,  saying,  "  they 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  85 

did  as  if  one  that  professed  the  art  of  shoemaking, 
should  not  teach  how  to  make  a  shoe,  but  only  exhibit 
a  number  of  shoes  of  all  fashions  and  sizes." l  But 
here  a  man  might  reply,  that  if  a  shoemaker  should 
have  no  shoes  in  his  shop,  but  only  work  as  he  is  be- 
spoken, he  should  be  still  a  poor  man,  and  have  few 
customers.  Far  otherwise  says  our  Saviour,  speaking 
of  divine  knowledge,  "  Every  scribe  that  is  instructed 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  a  householder,  that 
bringeth  forth  old  and  new  store."2  We  see  like- 
wise that  the  ancient  rhetoricians  gave  it  in  precept 
to  pleaders,  that  they  should  have  by  them  a  variety 
of  commonplaces,  ready  prepared,  and  handled  and 
illustrated  on  both  sides ;  arguments  (for  example)  for 
the  sense  of  the  law  against  the  words  of  the  law ;  and 
the  contrary :  for  inferences  against  testimony,  and  the 
contrary.  And  Cicero  himself,  taught  by  long  experi- 
ence, directly  asserts  that  a  diligent  orator  may  have 
by  him  premeditated  and  carefully  handled  beforehand 
everything  which  he  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of ; 
so  that  in  the  pleading  of  any  particular  cause,  he  shall 
not  have  to  introduce  anything  new  or  on  the  sudden, 
except  names  and  some  special  circumstances.3  But 
such  was  the  diligence  and  exactness  of  Demosthenes, 
that  seeing  what  great  force  the  entrance  and  access 
into  a  cause  has  to  make  a  good  impression  on  the 
minds  of  the  audience,  he  thought  it  worth  while  to 
compose  and  have  ready  by  him  a  number  of  prefaces 
for  orations  and  speeches.  All  which  authorities  and 
precedents  may  fairly  overweigh  Aristotle's  opinion, 
who  would  have  us  change  a  rich  wardrobe  for  a  pair 

1  Arist.  De  Repreh.  Sophist,  ii.  9.  2  St.  Matt.  xiii.  52. 

«  Cic.  De  Oratore,  ii.  32—34. 


86  TRANSLATION   OF   THE   "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

of  shears.  Therefore  that  part  of  knowledge  concern 
ing  provision  or  preparatory  store  was  not  to  be  omit- 
ted, though  here  I  have  said  enough  respecting  it. 
For  as  it  is  common  to  both,  logic  as  well  as  rhetoric, 
I  have  chosen  in  treating  of  logic  only  to  mention  it 
by  the  way,  referring  the  fuller  discussion  of  it  to 
rhetoric. 

The  other  part  of  invention  (namely  Topics)  I  will 
divide  into  general  and  particular.  General  has  been 
sufficiently  handled  in  logic,  so  that  there  is  no  need  to 
dwell  on  the  explanation  of  it.  Only  it  may  be  ob- 
served by  the  way,  that  this  kind  of  Topic  is  of  use  not 
only  in  argumentations,  where  we  are  disputing  with 
another,  but  also  in  meditations,  where  we  are  consid- 
ering and  resolving  anything  with  ourselves ;  neither 
does  it  serve  only  to  prompt  and  suggest  what  we  should 
affirm  and  assert,  but  also  what  we  should  inquire  or  ask. 
For  a  faculty  of  wise  interrogating  is  half  a  knowledge. 
For  Plato  says  well,  "  whosoever  seeks  a  thing,  knows 
that  which  he  seeks  for  in  a  general  notion ;  else  how 
shall  he  know  it  when  he  has  found  it  ?  "  And  there- 
fore the  fuller  and  more  certain  our  anticipation  is,  the 
more  direct  and  compendious  is  our  search.  The  same 
places  therefore  which  will  help  us  to  shake  out  the 
folds  of  the  intellect  within  us,  and  to  draw  forth  the 
knowledge  stored  therein,  will  also  help  us  to  gain 
knowledge  from  without ;  so  that  if  a  man  of  learning 
and  experience  were  before  us,  we  should  know  how  to 
question  him  wisely  and  to  the  purpose  ;  and  in  like 
manner  how  to  select  and  peruse  with  advantage  those 
authors,  books,  and  parts  of  books,  which  may  best  in- 
struct us  concerning  that  which  we  seek. 

But  Particular  Topics  contribute  much  more  to  those 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  87 

purposes  whereof  I  speak,  and '  are  to  be  accounted 
most  useful.  Of  these  there  is  indeed  some  slight 
mention  in  some  writers,  but  they  have  not  been  fully 
handled,  according  to  the  dignity  of  the  subject.  But 
leaving  the  humour  which  has  reigned  too  long  in  the 
schools,  —  which  is  to  pursue  with  infinite  subtlety  the 
things  which  are  near  at  hand,  and  never  to  go  near 
those  which  lie  a  little  further  off,  —  I  for  my  part  re- 
ceive particular  Topics  (that  is  places  of  invention  and 
inquiry  appropriated  to  particular  subjects  and  sciences) 
as  things  of  prime  use.  They  are  a  kind  of  mixtures  of 
logic  with  the  proper  matter  of  each  science.  For  he 
must  be  a  trifler  and  a  man  of  narrow  mind  who  thinks 
that  the  perfect  art  of  invention  of  knowledge  can  be 
devised  and  propounded  all  at  once  ;  and  that  then  it 
needs  only  to  be  set  at  work.  Let  men  be  assured  that 
the  solid  and  true  arts  of  invention  grow  and  increase 
as  inventions  themselves  increase  ;  so  that  when  a  man 
first  enters  into  the  pursuit  of  any  knowledge,  he  may 
have  some  useful  precepts  of  invention  ;  but  when  he 
has  made  further  advances  in  that  knowledge,  he  may 
and  ought  to  devise  new  precepts  of  invention,  to  lead 
him  the  better  to  that  which  lies  beyond.  It  is  indeed 
like  journeying  in  a  champaign  country ;  for  when  we 
have  gone  some  part  of  our  way,  we  are  not  only 
nearer  to  our  journey's  end,  but  we  can  likewise  see 
better  that  part  of  the  way  which  remains.  In  the 
same  manner  in  sciences  every  step  forward  on  the 
journey  gives  a  nearer  view  of  that  which  is  to  come 
But  I  have  thought  right  to  annex  an  example  of  this 
kind  of  Topic,  seeing  I  set  it  down  among  the  Defi- 
cients. 


88  TRANSLATION  OF  THE   "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

A  Particular  Topic,  or  Articles  of  Inquiry  concern- 
ing Heavy  and  Light. 

1.  Inquire  what  bodies  are  susceptible  of  the  motion 
of  gravity,  what  of  levity,  and  if  there  be  any  of  an 
intermediate  and  indifferent  nature. 

2.  After  the  simple  inquiry  concerning  heavy  and 
light,  proceed  to  comparative   inquiiy ;  as  what  heavy 
bodies  weigh  more,  what  less,  in  the  same  dimensions. 

O  *  ' 

Likewise  of  light   bodies,  which  rise    quicker,   which 
slower. 

3.  Inquire  what  effect  the   quantity  of  a  body  has 
in  the  motion  of  gravity.     At  first  sight  indeed  this 
may  appear  superfluous ;  for  the  proportions  of  motion 
ought  to  follow  the  proportions   of  quantity ;  but  the 
case  is  otherwise.    For  although  in  the  scales  the  quan- 
tity of  a  body  makes  up  the  gravity  (the  force  of  the 
body  being  there   collected,  by  the  recoil  or  resistance 
of  the  scales  or  beam),  yet  where  there   is  but  little 
resistance  (as  in   the  fall   of  bodies    through  air)  the 
velocity  of  the  fall  is  little  hastened  by  the  quantity  of 
the  body ;  for  a  ball  of  twenty  pounds  weight  falls  to 
the  ground  in  nearly  the  same   time  as  a  ball  of  one 
pound. 

4.  Inquire  whether  the  quantity  of  a  body  can  be 
so  increased  as  entirely  to  lose  the  motion  of  gravity ; 
as  in  the  earth,  which  is  pendulous,  but  falls  not.     Can 
there  then  be  other  substances  so  massive  as  to  sup- 
port themselves  ?     For  the  motion  towards  the  centre 
of  the  earth  is  a  fiction  ;  and  every  great  mass  abhors 
all  local   motion,  unless   it  be  overcome  by  another 
stronger  appetite. 

5.  Inquire  what  power  and  operation  the  resistance 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  QV 

of  an  intervening  or  opposing  body  may  have  to  con- 
trol the  motion  of  gravity.  For  a  descending  body 
either  cuts  and  penetrates  through  an  opposing  body, 
or  is  stopped  by  it.  If  it  pass  through,  penetration 
takes  place  either  with  slight  resistance,  as  in  air,  or 
with  a  stronger,  as  in  water.  If  it  be  stopped,  it  is 
either  by  an  unequal  resistance,  where  there  is  a  su- 
periority of  weight,  as  if  wood  be  placed  on  the  top 
of  wax  ;  or  by  an  equal  resistance,  as  if  water  be 
placed  on  the  top  of  water,  or  wood  upon  wood  of  the 
same  kind;  which  is  what  the  schoolmen  (upon  no 
solid  apprehension)  term  the  non-gravitation  of  a  body 
in  its  own  place.  And  all  these  things  vary  the  mo- 
tion of  gravity.  For  heavy  things  move  one  way  in 
the  scales,  and  another  in  falling ;  one  way  (which 
may  seem  strange)  when  the  scales  are  hanging  in  the 
air,  another  when  they  are  sunk  in  water  ;  one  way 
again  in  falling  through  water,  another  in  floating  or 
being  carried  upon  it. 

6.  Inquire  what  power  and  operation  the  figure  of 
a  descending  body  has  in  directing  the  motion  of  grav- 
ity ;  as  if  a  figure   be  broad  and  thin,  cubic,  oblong, 
round,  pyramidal ;  also  when  bodies  turn,  and  when 
they  keep  the  same  position  in  which  they  were  let 
fall. 

7.  Inquire  what  power  and  operation  the  continua- 
tion and  progression  of  the  descent  or  fall  has  in  in- 
creasing the  velocity  and  impetus,  and  in  what  propor- 
tion and  to  what  extent  that  velocity  will   increase. 
For  the  ancients  upon  slight  consideration  imagined 
that  this  motion,  being  natural,  was  continually  increas- 
ing and  strengthening. 

8.  Inquire  what  power  and  operation  the  distance 


90  TRANSLATION    OF   THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

or  nearness  of  the  falling  body  to  the  earth  has,  in 
making  it  fall  quicker  or  slower,  or  not  at  all  (if  it  be 
beyond  the  orb  of  the  earth's  activity,  according  to 
Gilbert's  opinion)  ;  and  also  what  is  the  effect  of  the 
plunging  of  a  descending  body  further  into  the  depths 
of  the  earth,  or  of  the  location  thereof  nearer  the  sur- 
face. For  this  also  varies  the  motion,  as  is  perceived 
by  miners. 

9.  Inquire  what  power  and  operation  the  difference 
of  the  bodies  has,  through  which  the  motion  of  gravity 
is  diffused  and  communicated  ;  and  whether  it  is  com- 
municated as  well  through  soft  and  porous  bodies,  as 
through  hard  and  solid  ones ;  as  if  the  beam  of  a  pair 
of  scales  on  one  side  of  the  tongue  be  made  of  wood, 
on  the  other  of  silver  (though  both  be  reduced  to  the 
same  weight),  will   it  produce    any  variation   in   the 
scales  ?     Likewise  will  metal  laid  on   wood,  or   on   a 
blown  bladder,  weigh  the  same  as  it  does  on  the  bot- 
tom of  the  scale  ? 

10.  Inquire  what  power  and  operation  the  distance 
of  the  body  from  the  fulcrum  has  in  the  communica- 
tion of  the  motion  of  gravity ;  that  is,  in  the  sooner  or 
later  perception  of  the  weight  or  pressure :  as  in  scales, 
if  one    arm  of   the  beam  be  longer  than    the    other 
(though  both  are  of  the  same  weight),  does  this  of 
itself  incline  the  scale  ?  or  in  the  syphon,  where  the 
longer  limb  will  certainly  draw  the  wrater,  though  the 
shorter  (being  made  more  capacious)  contain  a  greater 
weight  of  it. 

11.  Inquire  what  power  the  mixing  or  coupling  of 
a  light  body  with  a  heavy  one   has  in  lessening  the 
gravity  of  a  body ;  as  in  the  weight  of  animals  alive 
and  dead. 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  91 

12.  Inquire  of   the   secret  ascents  and  descents  of 
the  lighter   and   heavier   parts   in    one    entire   body; 
whence  fine  separations  often  take  place ;    as   in  the 
separation  of  wine  and  water,  the  rising  of  cream,  and 
the  like. 

13.  Inquire  what  is  the  line  and  direction  of  the 
motion  of  gravity  ;  how  far  it  follows  the   centre  01 
mass  of  the  earth,  how  far  the  centre  of  the  body  itself, 
that  is  the  strife  and  pressure  of  its  parts.     For  these 
centres,  though  convenient  for  demonstrations,  are  of 
no  effect  in  nature. 

14.  Inquire  touching  the  motion  of  gravity  as  com- 
pared with  other  motions  ;  what  motions  it  overcomes, 
and  what  overcome  it.     As  in  violent  motion  (as  it  is 
called)   the  motion  of  gravity  is  overpowered   for   a 
time  ;  and  as  when  a  little  magnet  lifts  a  piece  of  iron 
much  heavier  than  itself,  the  motion  of  gravity  yields 
to  the  motion  of  sympathy. 

15.  Inquire  touching  the  motion  of  air ;  whether  it 
rise  upwards,  or  is  as  it  were  indifferent.     And  this  is 
hard  to  discover,  except  by  some  subtle  experiments. 
For  the  springing  up  of  air  at  the  bottom  of  water  is 
rather  caused  by  the  force  of  the  water  than  the  motion 
of  the  air  ;   seeing  that  the   same  thing  happens  also 
with  wood.     But  air  mingled  with  air  gives  no  evi- 
dence, seeing  that  air  in  air  appears  no  less  light,  than 
water  in  water  appears  heavy ;  but  in  a  bubble,  where 
there  is  a  thin  film  drawn  round  it,  it  is  stationary  for 
a  time. 

16.  Inquire  what  is  the  limit  of  lightness ;  for  men 
do  not  mean  (I  suppose)  that  as  the  centre  of  the  earth 
is  the  centre  of  gravity,  so  the  extreme  convexity  of 
the  heaven  is  the  term  of  lightness ;  is  it  that  as  heavy 


92     TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMEXTIS." 

bodies  seem  to  fall  till  they  rest  and  reach  the  immov- 
able, so  light  bodies  rise  till  they  begin  to  rotate,  and 
attain  as  it  were  motion  without  limit? 

17.  Inquire  why  vapours    and   exhalations   rise    as 
high  as  what  is  called  the  middle  region  of  the  air ; 
seeing  they  consist  of  a  somewhat  heavy  matter,  and 
the  rays  of  the    sun  at  intervals  (that  is,  at  night) 
cease  their  operation. 

18.  Inquire  of  the  rule  which  governs  the  upward 
motion  of  flame ;    which  is  the    more   mysterious   as 
flame  expires  every  instant,  except  perhaps  it  be  in  the 
midst  of  larger  flames ;  for  flames  separated  from  their 
continuity  last  but  a  little  while. 

19.  Inquire  of  the  upward  motion  of  the  activity  of 
heat ;  as  when  the  heat  of  red-hot  iron  spreads  faster 
upwards  than  downwards. 

Such  then  is  an  instance  of  a  Particular  Topic.  In 
the  meantime  I 'again  repeat  my  former  advice  ;  name- 
ly, that  men  ought  so  to  vary  their  particular  topics,  as, 
after  any  great  advance  has  been  made  in  the  inquiry, 
to  set  out  another  and  again  another  topic,  if  they 
desire  to  climb  the  heights  of  the  sciences.  But  so 
much  importance  do  I  attribute  to  Particular  Topics, 
that  I  design  to  construct  a  special  work  concerning 
them  in  the  more  important  and  obscure  subjects  of 
nature.  For  we  can  command  our  questions,  though 
we  cannot  command  the  nature  of  things.  And  so 
much  for  Invention. 


THE   FIFTH  BOOK. 


CHAP.  IV. 

Division  of  the  art  of  Judging  into  judgment  by  Induc- 
tion and  judgment  by  Syllogism.  The  first  whereof 
is  referred  to  the  New  Organon.  First  division  of 
Judgment  by  Syllogism  into  Reduction  Direct  and 
Reduction  Inverse.  Second  division  of  the  same  into 
Analytic  and  doctrine  concerning  Detection  of  Fal- 
lacies. .Division  of  the  doctrine  concerning  the  detec- 
tion of  fallacies  into  detection  of  Sophistical  fallacies^ 
fallacies  of  Interpretation,  and  fallacies  of  false  ap- 
pearances or  Idols.  Division  of  Idols  into  Idols  of 
the  Tribe,  Idols  of  the  Cave,  and  Idols  of  the  Market- 
place. Appendix  to  the  Art  of  Judging  ;  viz.  con- 
cerning the  Analogy  of  Demonstrations  according  to 
the  nature  of  the  subject. 

LET  us  now  pass  on  to  Judgment,  or  the  art  of  judg- 
ing, which  handles  the  nature  of  proofs  and  demon- 
strations. In  this  art  (as  indeed  it  is  commonly  re- 
ceived) the  conclusion  is  made  either  by  induction  or 
by  syllogism.  For  enthymems  and  examples  are  but 
abridgments  of  these  two.  With  regard  however  to 
judgment  by  induction  there  is  nothing  to  detain  us ; 
for  here  the  same  action  of  the  mind  which  discovers 
the  thing  in  question  judges  it ;  and  the  operation  is 
not  performed  by  help  of  any  middle  term,  but  directly, 
almost  in  the  same  manner  as  by  the  sense.  For  the 
sense  in  its  primary  objects  at  once  apprehends  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  object,  and  consents  to  the  truth  there- 
of. In  the  syllogism  it  is  otherwise ;  for  there  the 
proof  is  not  immediate,  but  by  mean.  And  therefore 
the  invention  of  the  mean  is  one- thing,  and  the  judg- 
ment of  the  consequence  is  another  ;  for  the  mind 
ranges  first,  and  rests  afterwards.  But  the  vicious 


94  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  Dfc  AUGMEXTIS." 

form  of  induction  1  entirely  disclaim  ;  and  as  for  the 
legitimate  form,  I  refer  it  to  the  New  Organon. 
Enough  here  therefore  of  Judgment  by  Induction. 

For  the  other  judgment  by  Syllogism,  what  need  to 
speak ;  seeing  it  has  been  beaten  over  and  over  by  the 
subtlest  labours  of  men's  wits  and  reduced  to  many 
niceties  ?  And  no  wonder,  for  it  is  a  thing  most  agree- 
able to  the  mind  of  man.  For  the  mind  of  man  is 
strangely  eager  to  be  relieved  from  suspense,  and  to 
have  something  fixed  and  immovable,  upon  which  in 
its  wanderings  and  disquisitions  it  may  securely  rest. 
And  assuredly  as  Aristotle  endeavours  to  prove  that  in 
all  motion  there  is  some  point  quiescent;  and  as  he 
very  elegantly  interprets  the  ancient  fable  of  Atlas, 
Avho  stood  fixed  and  supported  the  heaven  on  his  shoul- 
ders, to  be  meant  of  the  poles  or  axletree  of  heaven, 
whereupon  the  conversion  is  accomplished ; l  so  do  men 
earnestly  desire  to  have  within  them  an  Atlas  or  axle- 
tree  of  the  thoughts,  by  which  the  fluctuations  and 
dizziness  of  the  understanding  may  be  to  some  extent 
controlled  ;  fearing  belike  that  their  heaven  should  fall. 
And  hence  it  is  that  they  have  been  in  too  great  a 
hurry  to  establish  some  principles  of  knowledge,  round 
which  all  the  variety  of  disputations  might  tuni,  with- 
out peril  of  falling  and  overthrow ;  not  knowing  that 
he  who  makes  too  great  haste  to  grasp  at  certainties 
shall  end  in  doubts,  while  he  who  seasonably  restrains 
his  judgment  shall  end  in  certainties. 

So  then  this  art  of  judgment  by  Syllogism  is  but 
the  reduction  of  propositions  to  principles  in  a  middle 
term ;  the  principles  being  understood  as  agreed  upon 
and  exempted  from  argument ;  and  the  invention  of 

1  Arist.  De  Mot.  Anim.  2  and  3. 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  95 

the  middle  terms  left  to  the  free  exercise  of  wit  and 
inquiry.  Now  this  reduction  is  of  two  kinds :  direct 
and  inverse ;  direct,  when  the  proposition  is  reduced 
to  the  principle ;  which  they  term  proof  ostensive ; 
inverse,  when  the  contradictory  of  the  proposition  is 
reduced  to  the  contradictory  of  the  principle  ;  which 
they  call  proof  per  incommodum,  or  by  showing  that  it 
involves  an  absurdity.  But  the  number  of  series  or 
middle  terms  is  greater  or  less  as  the  proposition  stands 
more  or  less  removed  from  the  principle. 

This  being  premised,  I  will  divide  the  art  of  judg- 
ment (according  to  the  usual  manner)  into  Analytic, 
and  the  doctrine  concerning  JElenches.  or  detection  of 

O  * 

fallacies ;  whereof  the  one  proceeds  by  way  of  direc- 
tion, the  other  by  way  of  caution.  Analytic  sets  down 
true  forms  of  consequences  in  argument ;  from  which 
if  there  be  any  variation  or  deflexion,  the  conclusion  is 
detected  to  be  faulty  ;  and  this  contains  in  itself  a  kind 
of  detection,  or  refutation :  for  the  straight  (as  they 
say)  indicates  what  is  not  straight  as  well  as  what  is. 
And  yet  it  is  safest  to  employ  Elenches,  as  monitors,  for 
the  better  detection  of  fallacies  by  which  the  judgment 
would  otherwise  be  ensnared.  In  Analytic  however  I 
dnd  no  deficiency;  but  it  is  rather  overladen  with 
superfluities  than  in  need  of  additions. 

The  doctrine  of  detection  of  fallacies  I  divide  into 
three  parts ;  detection  of  sophistical  fallacies,  of  fallacies 
of  interpretation,  and  of  false  appearances  or  Idols. 
The  detection  of  sophistical'  fallacies  is  especially  use- 
ful. For  although  the  grosser  kind  of  fallacies  is  well 
compared  by  Seneca ]  to  the  feats  of  jugglers,  in  which 
though  we  know  not  how  the  thing  is  done,  yet  we 
1  Seneca,  Epist.  45. 


96  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

know  well  it  is  not  as  it  seems  to  be ;  yet  the  more 
subtle  sophisms  not  only  put  a  man  beside  his  answer, 
but  many  tunes  seriously  confound  his  judgment. 

This  part  concerning  the  detection  of  sophistical  fal- 
lacies is  excellently  handled  by  Aristotle  in  the  way  of 
precepts,  but  still  more  excellently  by  Plato  in  the  way 
of  examples ;  and  that  not  only  in  the  persons  of  the 
ancient  sophists  (Gorgias,  Hippias,  Protagoras,  Euthy- 
demus,  and  the  rest),  but  even  in  Socrates  himself, 
who  professing  to  affirm  nothing,  but  to  infirm  that 
which  was  affirmed  by  another,  has  most  wittily  ex- 
pressed all  the  forms  of  fallacy,  objection,  and  redargu- 
tion.  In  this  part  therefore  I  have  no  deficiency  to 
report.  In  the  meantime  I  may  observe,  that  although 
I  have  said  that  the  honest  and  principal  use  of  this 
doctrine  is  for  redargution  of  sophisms  ;  yet  it  is  mani- 
fest that  the  degenerate  and  corrupt  use  is  for  rais- 
ing, by  means  of  these  very  sophisms,  captions  and 
contradictions.  And  this  passes  for  a  great  faculty, 
and  no  doubt  is  of  very  great  advantage ;  though  the 
difference  be  good  which  was  made  between  an  orator 
and  a  sophist,  that  the  one  is  as  the  greyhound,  which 
has  his  advantage  in  the  race,  the  other  as  the  hare, 
which  has  her  advantage  in  the  turn. 

Next  come  fallacies  of  Interpretation ;  for  so  (bor- 
rowing the  name  rather  than  the  sense  from  Aristotle) 
I  will  term  them.  Let  me  call  to  mind  then  what 
I  said  above  (in  speaking  of  Primitive  or  Summary 
Philosophy)  touching  the  Transcendental  or  Adven- 
titious Conditions  or  Adjuncts  of  Essences.  These  are 
Greater,  Less,  Much,  Little,  Before,  After,  Identity, 
Diversity,  Potential,  Actual,  Habit,  Privation,  Whole, 
Parts,  Active,  Passive,  Motion,  Rest,  Entity,  Nonen- 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  97 

tity,  and  the  like.  And  first  let  the  different  ways 
which  I  mentioned  of  viewing  these  things  be  remem- 
bered and  noted ;  namely  that  they  may  be  inquired 
either  physically  or  logically.  Now  the  physical  hand- 
ling of  them  I  referred  to  Primitive  or  Summary  Phi- 
losophy. There  remains  then  the  logical.  And  this 
is  the  very  thing  which  at  present  I  mean  by  the  doc- 
trine of  the  detection  of  fallacies  of  Interpretation. 
Certainly  it  is  a  sound  and  good  part  of  learning.  For 
common  and  general  notions  enter  necessarily  into 
every  discussion  ;  so  that  unless  great  care  be  taken  to 
distinguish  them  well  at  the  outset,  all  the  light  of  dis- 
putations will  be  strangely  clouded  with  darkness  by 
them,  and  the  matter  end  in  disputes  about  words. 
For  equivocations  and  false  acceptations  of  words  (es- 
pecially of  this  sort)  are  the  sophisms  of  sophisms ; 
and  therefore  1  have  thought  it  better  that  the  treat- 
ment of  them  should  be  made  a  part  by  itself,  than 
that  it  should  either  be  included  in  Summary  Philoso- 
phy or  Metaphysic,  or  placed  partly  under  Analytic ; 
as  has  been  done  by  Aristotle  confusedly  enough.  The 
name  I  have  given  it  is  taken  from  the  use  ;  because 
its  true  use  is  simply  redargution  and  caution  with  re- 
gard to  the  use  of  words.  Moreover  that  part  concern- 
ing the  Predicaments,  if  rightly  managed,  relating  to 
cautions  against  confounding  and  transposing  the  terms 
of  definitions  and  divisions,  I  hold  to  be  of  principal 
use,  and  wish  it  to  be  referred  to  this  place.  And  so 
much  for  the  Detection  of  Fallacies  of  Interpretation. 
As  for  the  detection  of  False  Appearances  or  Idols, 
Idols  are  the  deepest  fallacies  of  the  human  mind. 
For  they  do  not  deceive  in  particulars,  as  the  others 
do,  by  clouding  and  snaring  the  judgment ;  but  by  a 

VOL.  IX.  7 


98  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

corrupt  and  ill-ordered  predisposition  of  mind,  which 
as  it  were  perverts  and  infects  all  the  anticipations  of 
the  intellect.  For  the  mind  of  man  (dimmed  and 
clouded  as  it  is  by  the  covering  of  the  body),  far  from 
being  a  smooth,  clear,  and  equal  glass  (wherein  the 
beams  of  things  reflect  according  to  their  true  inci- 
dence), is  rather  like  an  enchanted  glass,  full  of  super- 
stition and  imposture.  Now  idols  are  imposed  upon 
the  mind,  either  by  the  nature  of  man  in  general ;  or 
by  the  individual  nature  of  each  man  ;  or  by  words,  or 
nature  communicative.  The  first  of  these  I  call  Idols 
of  the  Tribe,  the  second  the  Idols  of  the  Cave,  the 
third  the  Idols  of  the  Market-place.  There  is  also  a 
fourth  kind  which  I  call  the  Idols  of  the  Theatre,  su- 
perinduced by  corrupt  theories  or  systems  of  philoso- 
phy, and  false  laws  of  demonstration.  But  this  kind 
may  be  rejected  and  got  rid  of:  so  I  will  leave  it  for 
the  present.  The  others  absolutely  take  possession  of 
the  mind,  and  cannot  be  wholly  removed.  In  these 
therefore  Analytic  is  not  to  be  looked  for ;  but  the 
doctrine  of  Blenches  is  with  regard  to  the  idols  them- 
selves a  primary  doctrine.  Nor  (to  say  truth)  can  the 
doctrine  concerning  Idols  be  reduced  to  an  art ;  all 
that  can  be  done  is  to  use  a  kind  of  thoughtful  pru 
dence  to  guard  against  them.  The.  foil  and  subtle 
handling  of  these  however  I  reserve  for  the  New  Or- 
ganon,  making  here  only  a  few  general  observations 
touching  them. 

As  an  example  of  the  Idols  of  the  Tribe,  take  this. 
The  nature  of  the  human  mind  is  more  affected  by 
affirmatives  and  actives  than  by  negatives  and  priva- 
tives  ;  whereas  by  right  it  should  be  indifferently  dis- 
posed towards  both.  But  now  a  few  times  hitting  or 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  99 

presence  produces  a  much  stronger  impression  on  the 
mind  than  many  times  failing  or  absence :  a  thing 
which  is  as  the  root  of  all  vain  superstition  and  credu- 
lity. And  therefore  it  was  well  answered  by  one  who 
when  the  table  was  shown  to  him  hanging  in  a  temple 
of  such  as  had  paid  their  vows  upon  escape  from  ship- 
wreck, and  he  was  pressed  to  say  whether  he  did  not 
now  acknowledge  the  power  of  Neptune,  "  Yea," 
isked  he  in  return,  "  but  where  are  they  painted  that 
were  drowned  after  paying  their  vows  ?  "  And  so  it 
is  in  similar  superstitions,  as  astrology,  dreams,  omens, 
and  the  like.  Here  is  another  instance.  The  spirit  of 
man  (being  of  an  equal  and  uniform  substance)  pre- 
supposes and  feigns  in  nature  a  greater  equality  and 
uniformity  than  really  is.  Hence  the  fancy  of  the 
mathematicians  that  the  heavenly  bodies  move  in  per- 
fect circles,  rejecting  spiral  lines.  Hence  also  it  hap- 
pens, that  whereas  there  are  many  things  in  nature 
unique  and  full  of  dissimilarity,  yet  the  cogitation  of 
man  still  invents  for  them  relatives,  parallels,  and  con- 
jugates. Hence  sprang  the  introduction  of  an  element 
of  fire,  to  keep  square  with  earth,  water,  and  air. 
Hence  the  chemists  have  marshalled  the  universe  in 
phalanx;  conceiving,  upon  a  most  groundless  fancy, 
that  in  those  four  elements  of  theirs  (heaven,  air, 
water,  and  earth,)  each  species  in  one  has  parallel  and 
corresponding  species  in  the  others.  The  third  ex- 
ample is  of  kin  to  the  last ;  Man  is  as  it  were  the  com- 
mon measure  and  mirror  of  nature.  For  it  is  not  cred- 
ible (if  all  particulars  be  gone  through  and  noted) 
what  a  troop  of  fictions  and  idols  the  reduction  of  the 
operations  of  nature  to  the  similitude  of  human  actions 
has  brought  into  natural  philosophy ;  I  mean,  the  fancy 


100         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

that  nature  acts  as  man  does.  Neither  are  these  much 
better  than  the  heresy  of  the  Anthropomorphites,  bred 
in  the  cells  of  gross  and  solitary  monks  ;  or  the  opinion 
of  Epicurus  answering  to  the  same  in  heathenism,  Avho 
supposed  the  gods  to  be  of  human  shape.  And  there- 
fore Velleius  the  Epicurean  needed  not  to  have  asked, 
"  Why  God  should  have  adorned  the  heaven  with  stars 
and  lights,  like  an  aedile  ?  "  l  For  if  that  great  work- 
master  had  acted  as  an  aedile,  he  would  have  cast  the 
stars  into  some  pleasant  and  beautiful  order,  like  the 
frets  in  the  roofs  of  palaces  ;  whereas  one  can  scarce 
find  a  posture  in  square  or  triangle  or  straight  line 
amongst  such  an  infinite  number.  So  differing  a  har- 
mony is  there  between  the  spirit  of  man  and  the  spirit 
of  nature. 

With  regard  to  the  Idols  of  the  Cave,  they  arise 
from  each  man's  peculiar  nature  both  of  mind  and 
body ;  and  also  from  education  and  custom,  and  the 
accidents  which  befall  particular  men.  For  it  is  a 
most  beautiful  emblem,  that  of  Plato's  cave  :  for  (not 
to  enter  into  the  exquisite  subtlety  of  the  allegory)  if 
a  child  were  kept  in  a  dark  grot  or  cave  under  the 
earth  until  maturity  of  age,  and  then  came  suddenly 
abroad,  and  beheld  this  array  of  the  heavens  and  of 
nature,  no  doubt  many  strange  and  absurd  imagina- 
tions would  arise  in  his  mind.  Now  we,  although  our 
persons  live  in  the  view  of  heaven,  yet  our  spirits  are 
included  in  the  caves  of  our  own  bodies  ;  so  that  they 
must  needs  be  filled  with  infinite  errors  and  false  ap- 
pearances, if  they  come  forth  but  seldom  and  for  brief 
periods  from  their  cave,  and  do  not  continually  live  in 
the  contemplation  of  nature,  as  in  the  open  air.  And 
1  Cicero  De  Nat.  Deor.  i.  c.  9. 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  101 

with  this  emblem  of  Plato's  concerning  the  cave  the 
saying  of  Heraclitus  agrees  well,  "  that  men  seek  the 
sciences  in  their  own  proper  worlds,  and  not  in  the 
greater  world."  l 

But  the  Idols  of  the  Market-place  are  most  trouble 
some  ;  which  have  crept  into  the  understanding  through 
the  tacit  agreement  of  men  concerning  the  imposition 
of  words  and  names.  Now  words  are  generally  framed 
and  applied  according  to  the  conception  of  the  vulgar, 
and  draw  lines  of  separation  according  to  such  differ- 
ences as  the  vulgar  can  follow :  and  where  a  more 
acute  intellect  or  a  more  diligent  observation  tries  to 
introduce  a  better  distinction,  words  rebel.  And  that 
which  is  the  remedy  for  this  evil  (namely  definitions) 
is  in  most  cases  unable  to  cure  it ;  for  definitions  them- 
selves consist  of  Avords,  and  words  beget  words.  And 

*  ~ 

although  we  think  we  govern  our  words,  and  it  is  easy 
to  say  "  a  man  should  speak  as  the  vulgar,  and  think 
as  the  wise  ;  "  and  though  technical  terms  (only  used 
by  the  learned)  may  seem  to  answer  the  purpose  ;  and 
the  setting  down  of  those  definitions  I  spoke  of  at  the 
entrance  of  arts  (after  the  prudent  course  of  the  math- 
ematicians) may  avail  to  correct  the  perverted  accepta- 
tion of  terms  ;  yet  all  is  not  enough,  but  the  juggleries 
and  charms  of  words  will  in  many  ways  seduce  and 
forcibly  disturb  the  judgment,  and  (after  the  manner 
of  the  Tartar  bowmen)  shoot  back  at  the  understand- 
ing from  which  they  proceeded.  This  evil  stands  in 
need  therefore  of  a  deeper  remedy,  and  a  new  one. 
But  here  I  only  glance  at  these  things  by  the  way ;  in 
the  meantime  pronouncing  this  doctrine  (which  I  call 
the  Great  Blenches,  or  the  doctrine  concerning  the 

1  Plato,  Republ.  vi. 


UNIVERSITY  OP 

BARBARA  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 


102         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

Idols  of  the  Human  Mind,  native  and  adventitious)  to 
be  wanting.  The  regular  handling  of  it  I  refer  to  the 
New  Organ  on. 

There  remains  an  Appendix  to  the  Art  of  Judging, 
of  great  excellency ;  which  I  also  set  down  as  de- 
ficient :  for  though  Aristotle  has  noticed  the  thing,  he 
has  nowhere  followed  out  the  manner  of  it.  It  treats 
of  the  application  of  the  differing  kinds  of  proofs  to 
the  differing  kinds  of  matters  or  subjects ;  and  may 
be  called  the  doctrine  of  the  judgment  of  judgments. 
For  Aristotle  rightly  observes,  "That  we  ought  not 
to  require  either  demonstrations  from  orators  or  per- 
suasions from  mathematicians." *  And  therefore  if 
there  be  an  error  in  the  kind  of  proof  employed,  the 
judgment  itself  cannot  be  truly  made.  Now  whereas 
there  are  four  kinds  of  demonstrations,  —  either  by 
immediate  consent  and  common  notions,  or  by  induc- 
tion, or  by  syllogism,  or  by  that  which  Aristotle  right- 
ly calls  demonstration  in  circle?  —  (that  is,  not  from 
things  higher  in  the  order  of  nature,  but  as  it  were 
from  the  same  level)  :  —  so  there  are  certain  subjects 
and  matters  in  science  wherein  each  of  these  demon- 
strations respectively  does  well,  and  certain  others  from 
which  they  are  respectively  excluded.  For  rigour  and 
curiosity  in  requiring  the  more  severe  kinds  of  proof 
in  some  things,  and  still  more  facility  and  remissness  in 
contenting  ourselves  with  the  weaker  kinds  in  others, 
are  to  be  numbered  among  the  chief  causes  of  detri- 

O 

ment  and  hindrance  to  knowledge.  And  so  much 
for  the  Art  of  Judging. 

l  Arist.  Metaph.  ii.  3.  2  Arist.  Post.  Analyt.  ii.  13. 


THE  FIFTH  BOOK.  103 


CHAP.  V. 

Division  of  the  Art  of  Retaining  into  the  doctrine  con- 
cerning Helps  of  Memory,  and  the  doctrine  concern- 
ing Memory  itself.  Division  of  the  doctrine  concern- 
ing Memory  itself  into  Prenotion  and  Emblem. 

THE  art  of  retaining  or  keeping  knowledge  I  will 
divide  into  two  parts  ;  namely,  the  doctrine  concerning 
Helps  of  Memory,  and  the  doctrine  concerning  Mem- 
ory itself.  The  great  help  to  the  memory  is  writing ; 
and  it  must  be  taken  as  a  rule  that  memory  without 
this  aid  is  unequal  to  matters  of  much  length  and 
accuracy ;  and  that  its  unwritten  evidence  ought  by 
no  means  to  be  allowed.  This  is  particularly  the  case 
in  inductive  philosophy  and  the  interpretation  of  na- 
ture ;  for  a  man  might  as  well  attempt  to  go  through 
the  calculations  of  an  Ephemeris  in  his  head  without 
the  aid  of  writing,  as  to  master  the  interpretation  of 
nature  by  the  natural  and  naked  force  of  thought  and 
memory,  without  the  help  of  tables  duly  arranged. 
But  not  to  speak  of  the  interpretation  of  nature,  which 
is  a  new  doctrine,  there  can  hardly  be  anything  more 
useful  even  for  the  old  and  popular  sciences,  than  a 
sound  help  for  the  memory ;  that  is  a  good  and  learned 
Digest  of  Common  Places.  I  am  aware  indeed  that 
the  transferring  of  the  things  we  read  and  learn  into 
common-place  books  is  thought  by  some  to  be  detri- 
mental to  learning,  as  retarding  the  course  of  the 
reader  and  inviting  the  memoiy  to  take  holiday.  Nev- 
ertheless, as  it  is  but  a  counterfeit  thing  in  knowledge 
to  be  forward  and  pregnant,  except  a  man  be  also  deep 
and  full,  I  hold  diligence  and  labour  in  the  entry  of 


104          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  ADGMENTIS." 

common  places  to  be  a  matter  of  great  use  and  support 
in  studying ;  as  that  which  supplies  matter  to  inven- 
tion, and  contracts  the  sight  of  the  judgment  to  a 
point.  But  yet  it  is  true  that  of  the  methods  and 
frameworks  of  common  places  which  I  have  hitherto 
seen,  there  is  none  of  any  worth ;  all  of  them  carrying 
in  their  titles  merely  the  face  of  a  school  and  not  of  a 
world ;  and  using  vulgar  and  pedantical  divisions,  not 
such  as  pierce  to  the  pith  and  heart  of  things. 

For  the  Memory  itself,  the  inquiry  seems  hitherto 
to  have  been  pursued  weakly  and  languidly  enough. 
An  art  there  is  indeed  extant  of  it;  but  it  is  clear 
to  me  that  there  might  be  both  better  precepts  for 
strengthening  and  enlarging  the  memory  than  that  art 
contains,  and  a  better  practice  of  the  art  itself  than 
that  which  is  received.  Not  but  (if  any  one  chooses 
to  abuse  this  art  for  purposes  of  ostentation)  feats  can 
be  performed  by  it  that  are  marvellous  and  prodigious ; 
but  nevertheless  it  is  a  barren  thing  (as  now  applied) 
for  human  uses.  At  the  same  time  the  fault  I  find 
with  it  is  not  that  it  destroys  and  overburdens  the  nat- 
ural memory  (which  is  the  common  objection),  but 
that  it  is  not  well  contrived  for  providing  assistance 
to  the  memory  in  serious  business  and  affairs.  And 
for  my  own  part  (owing  perhaps  to  the  life  of  business 
I  have  led)  I  am  ever  disposed  to  make  small  account 
of  things  which  make  parade  of  art  but  are  of  no  use. 
For  the  being  able  to  repeat  at  once  and  in  the  same 
order  a  great  number  of  names  or  words  upon  a  single 
hearing,  or  to  make  a  number  of  verses  extempore  on 
any  subject,  or  to  make  a  satirical  simile  of  everything 
that  happens,  or  to  turn  any  serious  matter  into  a  jest, 
or  to  carry  off  anything  with  a  contradiction  or  cavil. 


THE  FIFTH   BOOK.  105 

or  the  like,  (whereof  in  the  faculties  of  the  mind  there 
is  great  store,  and  such  as  by  device  and  practice  may 
be  exalted  to  an  extreme  degree  of  wonder,)  —  all 
such  things  I  esteem  no  more  than  I  do  the  tricks  and 
antics  of  clowns  and  rope-dancers.  For  they  are  al- 
most the  same  things ;  the  one  an  abuse  of  the  powers 
of  the  body,  the  other  of  the  mind ;  matters  perhaps 
of  strangeness,  but  of  no  \vorthiness. 

The  Art  of  Memory  is  built  upon  two  intentions ; 
Prenotion  and  Emblem.  By  Prenotion  I  mean  a  kind 
of  cutting  off  of  infinity  of  search.  For  when  a  man 
desires  to  recall  anything  into  his  memory,  if  he  have 
no  prenotion  or  perception  of  that  he  seeks,  he  seeks 
and  strives  and  beats  about  hither  and  thither  as  if  in 
infinite  space.  But  if  he  have  some  certain  prenotion, 
this  infinity  is  at  once  cut  off,  and  the  memory  ranges 
in  a  narrower  compass ;  like  the  hunting  of  a  deer 
within  an  enclosure.  And  therefore  order  also  mani- 
festly assists  the  memory;  for  we  have  a  prenotion 
that  what  we  are  seeking  must  be  something  which 
agrees  with  order.  So  again  verse  is  more  easily 
learned  by  heart  than  prose ;  for  if  we  stick  at  any 
word,  we  have  a  prenotion  that  it  must  be  such  a  word 
as  fits  the  verse.  And  this  prenotion  is  the  principal 
part  of  artificial  memory.  For  in  artificial  memory  we 
have  the  places  digested  and  prepared  beforehand ;  the 
'mages  we  make  extempore  according  to  the  occasion. 
But  then  we  have  a  prenotion  that  the  image  must 
be  one  which  has  some  conformity  with  the  place ;  and 
this  reminds  the  memory,  and  in  some  measure  paves 
the  way  to  the  thing  we  seek.  Emblem,  on  the  other 
land,  reduces  intellectual  conceptions  to  sensible  im- 
ages ;  for  an  object  of  sense  always  strikes  the  memory 


106          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

more  forcibly  and  is  more  easily  impressed  upon  it  than 
an  object  of  the  intellect ;  insomuch  that  even  brutes 
have  their  memory  excited  by  sensible  impressions ; 
never  by  intellectual  ones.  And  therefore  you  will 
more  easily  remember  the  image  of  a  hunter  pursuing 
a  hare,  of  an  apothecary  arranging  his  boxes,  of  a  ped- 
ant making  a  speech,  of  a  boy  repeating  verses  from 
memory,  of  a  player  acting  on  the  stage,  than  the  mere 
notions  of  invention,  disposition,  elocution,  memory, 
and  action.  Other  things  there  are  (as  I  said  just 
now)  which  relate  to  the  help  of  memory,  but  the  art 
as  it  now  is  consists  of  the  two  above  stated.  But  to 
follow  out  the  particular  defects  of  arts  would  be  from 
my  purpose.  So  much  therefore  for  the  Art  of  Re- 
taining or  Keeping  Knowledge.  And  now  we  have 
arrived  in  due  course  at  the  fourth  division  of  Logic, 
which  treats  of  the  Transmission  and  Delivery  of  our 
knowledge  to  others. 


THE    ADVANCEMENT   OF   LEAENING, 
BOOK  VI. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Division  of  the  art  of  Transmitting  into  the  doctrine  con- 
cerning the  Organ  of  Discourse,  the  doctrine  concern- 
ing the  Method  of  Discourse,  and  the  doctrine  concern- 
ing the  Illustration  of  Discourse.  Division  of  the 
doctrine  concerning  the  organ  of  discourse  into  the  doc- 
trine concerning  the  Notations  of  Things,  concerning 
Speech,  and  concerning  Writing;  whereof  the  two 
first  constitute  Grammar,  and  are  divisions  of  it. 
Division  of  the  doctrine  concerning  the  notations  of 
things  into  Hieroglyphics  and  Real  Characters.  Sec- 
ond division  of  Grammar  into  Literary  and  Phil- 
osophic. Reference  of  Poesy  in  respect  of  metre  to 
the  doctrine  concerning  Speech.  Reference  of  the 
doctrine  concerning  Ciphers  to  the  doctrine  concern- 
ing Writing. 

IT  is  permitted  to  every  man  (excellent  King)  to 
make  merry  with  himself  and  his  own  matters.  Who 
knows  then  but  this  work  of  mine  is  copied  from  a 
certain  old  book  found  in  the  most  famous  library  of 
St.  Victor,  of  which  Master  Francis  Rabelais  made  a 
catalogue  ?  For  there  is  a  book  there  entitled  "  Thp 


108          TRANSLATION  01    THE  "  DE  AUGXIENTIS." 

Ant-hill  of  Arts."  And  certainly  I  have  raised  up 
here  a  little  heap  of  dust,  and  stored  under  it  a  great 
many  grains  of  sciences  and  arts  ;  into  which  the  ants 
may  creep  and  rest  for  a  while,  and  then  prepare  them- 
selves for  fresh  labours.  Now  the  wisest  of  kings 
refers  sluggards  to  the  ants  ;  and  for  my  part  I  hold 
all  men  for  sluggards  who  care  only  to  use  what  they 
have  got,  without  preparing  for  new  seedtimes  and 
new  harvests  of  knowledge. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  art  of  Transmitting,  or 
of  producing  and  expressing  to  others  those  things 
which  have  been  invented,  judged,  and  laid  up  in  the 
memory ;  which  I  will  call  by  a  general  name  the  Art 
of  Transmission.  This  art  includes  all  the  arts  which 
relate  to  words  and  discourse.  For  although  reason  be 
as  it  were  the  soul  of  discourse,  yet  in  the  handling  of 
them  reason  and  discourse  should  be  kept  separate,  no 
less  than  soul  and  body.  The  art  of  transmission  I 
will  divide  into  three  parts  ;  the  doctrine  concerning 
the  Organ  of  Discourse,  the  doctrine  concerning  the 
Method  of  Discourse,  and  the  doctrine  concerning  the 
Illustration  or  adornment  of  Discourse. 

The  doctrine  concerning  the  Organ  of  Discourse, 
which  is  also  called  Grammar,  has  two  parts ;  one  re- 
lating to  Speech,  the  other  to  Writing :  for  Aristotle 
says  rightly  that  "  words  are  the  images  of  thoughts 
and  letters  are  the  images  of  words."  Both  these  I 
assign  to  Grammar.  But  to  go  a  little  higher  up,  be- 
fore I  come  to  Grammar  and  the  parts  thereof  just 
mentioned,  I  must  speak  concerning  the  Organ  of 
Transmission  in  general.  For  it  seems  that  the  art  of 
transmission  has  some  other  children  besides  Words 
and  Letters.  This  then  may  be  laid  down  as  a  rule  ; 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  109 

that  whatever  can  be  divided  into  differences  suffi- 
ciently numerous  to  explain  the  variety  of  notions 
(provided  those  differences  be  perceptible  to  the  sense) 
may  be  made  a  vehicle  to  convey  the  thoughts  of  one 
man  to  another.  For  we  see  that  nations  which 
understand  not  one  another's  language  carry  on  their 
commerce  well  enough  by  means  of  gestures.  And 
in  the  practice  of  some  who  had  been  deaf  and  dumb 
from  their  birth  and  were  otherwise  clever,  I  have 
seen  wonderful  dialogues  carried  on  between  them  and 
their  friends  who  had  learned  to  understand  their  gest- 
ures. Moreover  it  is  now  well  known  that  in  China 
ani  the  provinces  of  the  furthest  East  there  are  in  use 
at  this  day  certain  real  characters,  not  nominal ;  char- 
acters, I  mean,  which  represent  neither  letters  nor 
words,  but  things  and  notions ;  insomuch  that  a  num- 
ber of  nations  whose  languages  are  altogether  different, 
but  who  agree  in  the  use  of  such  characters  (which  are 
more  widely  received  among  them),  communicate  with 
each  other  in  writing ;  to  such  an  extent  indeed  that 
any  book  written  in  characters  of  this  kind  can  be  read 
off  by  each  nation  in  their  own  language. 

The  Notes  of  Things  then  which  carry  a  significa- 
tion without  the  help  or  intervention  of  words,  are  of 
two  kinds  :  one  ex  congruo,  where  the  note  has  some 
congruity  with  the  notion,  the  other  ad placitum,  where 
it  is  adopted  and  agreed  upon  at  pleasure.  Of  the 
former  kind  are  Hieroglyphics  and  Gestures ;  of  the 
latter  the  Real  Characters  above  mentioned.  The  use 
of  Hieroglyphics  is  very  old,  and  held  in  a  kind  of 
reverence,  especially  among  the  Egyptians,  a  very  an- 
cient nation.  So  that  they  seem  to  have  been  a  kind 
of  earlier  born  writing,  and  older  than  the  very  ele- 


110          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ments  of  letters,  except  perhaps  among  the  Hebrews, 
Gestures  are  as  transitory  Hieroglyphics.  For  as 
uttered  words  fly  away,  but  written  words  stand,  so 
Hieroglyphics  expressed  in  gestures  pass,  but  expressed 
in  pictures  remain.  For  when  Periander,  being  con- 
sulted with  how  to  preserve  a  tyranny,  bade  the  mes- 
senger follow  him,  and  went  into  his  garden  and  topped 
the  highest  flowers,  hinting  at  the  cutting  off  of  the 
nobility,  he  made  use  of  a  Hieroglyphic  just  as  much 
as  if  he  had  drawn  it  on  paper.  In  the  meantime  it 
is  plain  that  Hieroglyphics  and  Gestures  have  always 
some  similitude  to  the  thing  signified,  and  are  a  kind 
of  emblems.  Whence  I  have  called  them  "  notes  of 
things  by  congruity."  Real  characters  on  the  other 
hand  have  nothing  emblematic  in  them,  but  are  merely 
surds,  no  less  than  the  elements  of  letters  themselves, 
and  are  only  framed  ad  placilum,  and  silently  agreed 
on  by  custom.  It  is  evident  however  that  a  vast  multi- 
tude of  them  is  wanted  for  writing ;  for  there  ought  to 
be  as  many  of  them  as  there  are  radical  words.  This 
portion  therefore  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Organ  of  Dis- 
course, which  relates  to  the  Notes  of  Things,  I  set 
down  as  wanting.  And  although  it  may  seem  to  be 
of  no  great  use,  since  words  and  writing  by  letters  are 
by  far  the  most  convenient  organs  of  transmission  ;  yet 
I  thought  good  to  make  some  mention  of  it  here,  as 
a  thing  not  unworthy  of  consideration.  For  we  are 
handling  here  the  currency  (so  to  speak)  of  things 
intellectual,  and  it  is  not  amiss  to  know  that  as  moneys 
may  be  made  of  other  material  besides  gold  and  silver, 
so  other  Notes  of  Things  may  be  coined  besides  words 
and  letters. 

Now  therefore  I  pass  on  to  Grammar,  which  is  as  it 


THE   SIXTH   BOOK.  Ill 

were  the  harbinger  of  other  sciences;  an  office  not 
indeed  very  noble,  yet  very  necessary;  especially  as 
sciences  in  our  age  are  principally  drawn  from  the 
learned  languages,  and  are  not  learned  in  our  mother 
tongue.  Nor  must  it  be  esteemed  of  little  dignity, 
seeing  that  it  serves  for  an  antidote  against  the  curse 
of  the  confusion  of  tongues.  For  man  still  strives  to 
renew  and  reintegrate  himself  in  those  benedictions  of 
which  by  his  fault  he  has  been  deprived.  And  as  he 
arms  and  defends  himself  against  the  first  general 
curse  of  the  barrenness  of  the  earth,  and  of  eating 
bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  face,  by  the  invention  of  all 
other  arts  ;  so  against  this  second  curse  of  the  confusion 
of  tongues  he  calls  in  the  aid  of  Grammar  ;  whereof  the 
use  in  a  mother  tongue  is  small ;  in  a  foreign  tongue 
more  ;  but  most  in  such  foreign  tongues  as  have  ceased 
to  be  vulgar  tongues,  and  are  only  extant  in  books. 

Grammar  likewise  is  of  two  sorts ;  the  one  being 
Literary,  the  other  Philosophical.  The  one  is  used 
simply  for  languages,  that  they  may  be  learned  more 
quickly  or  spoken  more  correctly  and  purely ;  the  oth- 
er ministers  in  a  certain  degree  to  philosophy.  And 
here  I  am  reminded  that  Ca3sar  wrote  some  books  on 
"  Analogy ;  "  and  a  doubt  occurs  to  me,  whether  they 
handled  this  kind  of  philosophical  grammar  of  which 
I  speak.  I  suspect  however  that  they  did  not  contain 
anything  very  subtle  or  lofty  ;  but  only  laid  down  pre- 
cepts for  a  chaste  and  perfect  style,  not  vitiated  or 
polluted  either  by  a  bad  habit  of  speech,  or  by  any 
particular  affectation  ;  in  which  style  himself  excelled. 
Taking  the  hint  however  from  this,  I  have  thought  of 
a  kind  of  grammar  which  should  diligently  inquire, 
not  the  analogy  of  words  with  one  another,  but  the 


112          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS," 

analogy  between  words  and  things,  or  reason  ;  not 
going  so  far  however  as  that  interpretation  which  be- 
longs to  Logic.  Certainly  words  are  the  footsteps  of 
reason,  and  the  footsteps  tell  something  about  the  body. 
I  will  therefore  give  some  sketch  of  what  I  mean. 
But  I  must  first  say  that  I  by  no  means  approve  of 
that  curious  inquiry,  which  nevertheless  so  great  a 
man  as  Plato  did  not  despise ;  namely  concerning  the 
Imposition  and  original  etymology  of  names  ;  on  the 
supposition  that  they  were  not  arbitrarily  fixed  at  first, 
but  derived  and  deduced  by  reason  and  according  to 
significance  ;  a  subject  elegant  indeed,  and  pliant  as 
wax  to  be  shaped  and  turned,  and  (as  seeming  to  ex- 
plore the  recesses  of  antiquity)  not  without  a  kind  of 
reverence,  —  but  yet  sparingly  true  and  bearing  no 
fruit.  But  the  noblest  species  of  grammar,  as  I  think, 
would  be  this :  if  some  one  well  seen  in  a  great  num- 
ber of  tongues,  learned  as  well  as  vulgar,  would  handle 
the  various  properties  of  languages ;  showing  in  what 
points  each  excelled,  in  what  it  failed.  For  so  not 
only  may  languages  be  enriched  by  mutual  exchanges, 
but  the  several  beauties  of  each  may  be  combined  (as 
in  the  Venus  of  Apelles)  into  a  most  beautiful  image 
and  excellent  model  of  speech  itself,  for  the  right  ex- 
pressing of  the  meanings  of  the  mind.  And  at  the 
same  time  there  will  be  obtained  in  this  way  signs  of 
no  slight  value  but  well  worthy  of  observation  (which  a 
man  would  hardly  think  perhaps)  concerning  the  dis- 
positions and  manners  of  peoples  and  nations,  drawn 
from  their  languages.  I  like  well  that  remark  of  Ci- 
cero's that  the  Greeks  had  no  word  to  express  the 
Latin  ineptus  ;  "  because,"  says  he,  "  that  vice  was  so 
familiar  among  the  Greeks  that  they  did  not  perceive 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  118 

it  in  themselves  ;  " 1  a  censure  worthy  of  the  Roman 
gravity.  And  how  came  it  that  the  Greeks  used  such 
liberty  in  composition  of  words,  the  Romans  on  the 
contrary  were  so  strict  and  sparing  in  it  ?  One  may 
plainly  collect  from  this  fact  that  the  Greeks  were  fitter 
for  arts,  the  Romans  for  business :  for  the  distinctions 
of  arts  are  hardly  expressed  without  composition  of 
words ;  whereas  for  the  transaction  of  business  simpler 
words  are  wanted.  Then  again  the  Hebrews  have 
such  a  dislike  to  these  compositions  that  they  had 
rather  abuse  a  metaphor  than  introduce  a  compound 
word :  and  the  words  they  use  are  so  few  and  so  little 
mixed,  that  one  may  plainly  perceive  from  their  very 
language  that  they  were  a  Nazarite  nation,  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  nations.  And  is  it  not  a  fact 
worthy  of  observation  (though  it  may  be  a  little  shock 
to  the  spirits  of  us  moderns)  that  the  ancient  lan- 
guages were  full  of  declensions,  cases,  conjugations, 
tenses,  and  the  like,  while  the  modern  are  nearly 
stripped  of  them,  and  perform  most  of  their  work  lazi- 
ly by  prepositions  and  verbs  auxiliary  ?  Surely  a  man 
may  easily  conjecture  (how  well  so  ever  we  think  of 
ourselves)  that  the  wits  of  the  early  ages  were  much 
acuter  and  subtler  than  our  own.  There  are  number- 
less observations  of  this  kind,  enough  to  fill  a  good  vol- 
ume. And  therefore  it  is  not  amiss  to  distinguish  Phil- 
osophic Grammar  from  Grammar  Simple  and  Literary, 
and  to  set  it  down  as  wanting. 

To  Grammar  also  I  refer  all  accidents  of  words,  of 
what  kind  soever ;  such  as  Sound,  Measure,  Accent. 
The  primary  formation  of  simple  letters  indeed  (that 
is,  by  what  percussion  of  the  tongue,  by  what  opening 

l  Cicero  De  Orat.  ii.  4. 
VOL.  ix.  a 


114         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  ADGMENTIS." 

of  the  mouth,  by  what  meeting  of  the  lips,  by  what 
effort  of  the  throat,  the  sound  of  each  letter  is  pro- 
duced) does  not  belong  to  Grammar,  but  is  part  of  the 
doctrine  concerning  Sounds,  and  to  be  handled  under 
Sense  and  the  Sensible.  The  sound  which  I  speak  of 
as  belonging  to  Grammar  relates  only  to  sweetnesses 
and  harshnesses.  Of  these  some  are  common  to  all 
nations  ;  for  there  is  no  language  that  does  not  in  some 
degree  shun  the  hiatus  caused  by  vowels  coming  to- 
gether, and  the  harshnesses  caused  by  consonants 
coming  together.  There  are  others  again  which  are 
respective,  being  found  pleasing  to  the  ears  of  some 
nations  and  displeasing  to  .others.  The  Greek  lan- 
guage abounds  in  diphthongs  ;  the  Latin  is  much  more 
sparing  of  them.  The  Spanish  dislikes  thin  letters, 
and  changes  them  immediately  into  those  of  a  middle 
tone.  Languages  derived  from  the  Goths  delight  in 
aspirates.  Many  things  of  this  kind  might  be  men- 
tioned; but  these  are  perhaps  more  than  enough. 

The  Measure  of  words  has  produced  a  vast  body  of 
art ;  namely  Poesy,  considered  with  reference  not  to 
the  matter  of  it  (of  which  I  have  spoken  above)  but  to 
the  style  and  form  of  words :  that  is  to  say,  metre  or 
verse  ;  wherein  the  art  we  have  is  a  very  small  thing, 
but  the  examples  are  large  and  innumerable.  Neither 
should  that  art  (which  the  grammarians  call  Prosody) 
be  confined  to  the  teaching  of  the  kinds  and  measures 
of  verse.  Precepts  should  be  added  as  to  the  kinds 
of  verse  which  best  suit  each  matter  or  subject.  The 
ancients  used  hexameter  for  histories  and  eulogies , 
elegiac  for  complaints  ;  iambic  for  invectives  ;  lyric  foi 
odes  and  hymns.  Nor  have  modern  poets  been  want- 
ing in  this  wisdom,  so  far  as  their  own  languages  are 


THE   SIXTH  BOOK.  115 

concerned.  The  fault  has  been,  that  some  of  them, 
out  of  too  much  zeal  for  antiquity,  have  tried  to  train 
the  modern  languages  into  the  ancient  measures  (hex- 
ameter, elegiac,  sapphic,  &c.)  ;  measures  incompatible 
with  the  structure  of  the  languages  themselves,  and  no 
less  offensive  to  the  ear.  In  these  things  the  judgment 
of  the  sense  is  to  be  preferred  to  the  precepts  of  art,  — 
as  the  poet  says, 

Coenae  fercula  nostrse 
Mallem  convivis  quam  placuisse  cocis.  * 

And  it  is  not  art,  but  abuse  of  art,  when  instead  of  per- 
fecting nature  it  perverts  her.  But  for  poesy  (whether 
we  speak  of  stories  or  metre)  it  is  (as  I  said  before)  like 
a  luxuriant  plant,  that  comes  of  the  lust  of  the  earth, 
without  any  formal  seed.  Wherefore  it  spreads  every- 
where and  is  scattered  far  and  wide,  —  so  that  it  would 
be  vain  to  take  thought  about  the  defects  of  it.  With 
this  therefore  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves.  And  with 
regard  to  Accents  of  words,  it  is  too  small  a  matter 
to  speak  of ;  unless  perhaps  it  be  thought  worth  remark- 
ing, that  while  the  accentuation  of  words  has  been 
exquisitely  observed,  the  accentuation  of  sentences  has 
not  been  observed  at  all.  And  yet  it  is  common  to  all 
mankind  almost  to  drop  the  voice  at  the  end  of  a  period, 
to  raise  it  in  asking  a  question,  and  other  things  of 
the  kind  not  a  few.  And  so  much  for  the  part  of 
Grammar  which  relates  to  Speech. 

As  for  Writing,  it  is  performed  either  by  the  com- 
mon alphabet  (which  is  used  by  everybody)  or  by  a 
secret  and  private  one,  agreed  upon  by  particular  per- 
sons ;  which  they  call  ciphers.  And  with  regard  to  the 

l  Mart.  ix.  83. :  — 

The  dinner  is  for  eating,  and  my  wish  ia 

That  guests  and  not  that  cooks  should  like  the  dishes 


116          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

common  orthography  itself,  a  controversy  and  question 
has  been  raised  among  us,  —  namely,  whether  words 
ought  to  be  written  as  they  are  pronounced,  or  in  the 
usual  way.  But  this  apparently  reformed  style  of  writ- 
ing (viz.  in  which  the  spelling  should  agree  with  the 
pronunciation)  belongs  to  the  class  of  unprofitable 
subtleties.  For  the  pronunication  itself  is  continually 
changing ;  it  does  not  remain  fixed ;  and  the  deriva- 
tions of  words,  especially  from  foreign  tongues,  are 
thereby  completely  obscured.  And  as  the  spelling  of 
words  according  to  the  fashion  is  no  check  at  all  upon 
the  fashion  of  pronunication,  but  leaves  it  free,  to  what 
purpose  is  this  innovation  ?. 

Let  us  proceed  then  to  Ciphers.  Of  these  there  are 
many  kinds :  simple  ciphers  ;  ciphers  mixed  with  non- 
significant characters  ;  ciphers  containing  two  different 
letters  in  one  character ;  wheel-ciphers  ;  key-ciphers ; 
word-ciphers;  and  the  like.  But  the  virtues  required 
in  them  are  three  ;  that  they  be  easy  and  not  laborious 
to  write  ;  that  they  be  safe,  and  impossible  to  be  de- 
ciphered ;  and  lastly  that  they  be,  if  possible,  such  as 
not  to  raise  suspicion.  For  if  letters  fall  into  the  hands 
of  those  who  have  power  either  over  the  writers  or 
over  those  to  whom  they  are  addressed,  although  the 
cipher  itself  may  be  safe  and  impossible  to  decipher, 
yet  the  matter  comes  under  examination  and  question  ; 
unless  the  cipher  be  such  as  either  to  raise  no  suspicion 
or  to  elude  inquiry.  Now  for  this  elusion  of  inquiry, 
there  is  a  new  and  useful  contrivance  for  it,  which  as 
I  have  it  by  me,  why  should  I  set  it  down  among  the 
desiderata,  instead  of  propounding  the  thing  itself?  It 
is  this  :'  let  a  man  have  two  alphabets,  one  of  true  let- 
ters, the  other  of  non-significants ;  and  let  him  infold 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK. 


117 


in  them  two  letters  at  once  ;  one  carrying  the  secret, 
the  other  such  a  letter  as  the  writer  would  have  been 
likely  to  send,  and  yet  without  anything  dangerous. 
Then  if  any  one  be  strictly  examined  as  to  the  cipher, 
let  him  offer  the  alphabet  of  non-significants  for  the 
true  letters,  and  the  alphabet  of  true  letters  for  non- 
significants.  Thus  the  examiner  will  fall  upon  the 
exterior  letter;  which  finding  probable,  he  will  not 
suspect  anything  of  another  letter  within.  But  for 
avoiding  suspicion  altogether,  I  will  add  another  con- 
trivance, which  I  devised  myself  when  I  was  at  Paris 
in  my  early  youth,  and  which  I  still  think  worthy  of 
preservation.  For  it  has  the  perfection  of  a  cipher, 
which  is  to  make  anything  signify  anything ;  subject 
however  to  this  condition,  that  the  infolding  writing 
shall  contain  at  least  five  times  as  many  letters  as  the 
writing  infolded :  no  other  condition  or  restriction 
whatever  is  required.  The  way  to  do  it  is  this :  First 
let  all  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  be  resolved  into  trans- 
positions of  two  letters  only.  For  the  transposition  of 
two  letters  through  five  places  will  yield  thirty-two 
differences ;  much  more  twenty-four,  which  is  the 
number  of  letters  in  our  alphabet.  Here  is  an  example 
of  such  an  alphabet. 


Example  of 

A           B 

Aaaaa.     aaadb. 

a       n 

aabba.      aabbb. 
N           0 
abbaa.      abbab. 
T           V 
baaba.       baabb. 

an  Alphabet  in 

O            D 

aaaba.     aaabb. 
I           K 
abaaa.     abaab. 

P         Q 

abbba.      abbbb. 
W           X 
babaa.      babab. 

two  letters. 

E           F 

aabaa.     aabab. 
L           M 
ababa.      ababb 
R           S 
baaaa.     baaab. 
T           Z. 
babba.     babbb. 

118         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.'1 


Nor  is  it  a  slight  thing  which  is  thus  by  the  way  ef- 
fected. For  hence  we  see  how  thoughts  may  be  com- 
municated at  any  distance  of  place  by  means  of  any 
objects  perceptible  either  to  the  eye  or  ear,  provided 
only  that  those  objects  are  capable  of  two  differences  ; 
as  by  bells,  trumpets,  torches,  gunshots,  and  the  like. 
But  to  proceed  with  our  business :  when  you  prepare 
to  write,  you  must  reduce  the  interior  epistle  to  this 
biliteral  alphabet.  Let  the  interior  epistle  be 

Fly. 
Example  of  reduction. 

F          L  T. 

aabab.     ababa.     babba. 

Have  by  you  at  the  same  time  another  alphabet  in 
two  forms  ;  I  mean  one  in  which  each  of  the  letters  of 
the  common  alphabet,  both  capital  and  small,  is  ex- 
hibited in  two  different  forms,  —  any  forms  that  you 
find  convenient. 

Example  of  an  Alphabet  in  two  forms. 


a 

b 

a 

b 

a 

b 

a 

b 

a 

b 

a 

b 

A 

A 

a 

a 

B 

B 

b 

b 

C 

C 

c 

c 

D 

D 

d 

d 

E 

E 

e 

e 

F 

F 

f 

f 

a 

K 

G 

K 

9 
k 

g 
k 

H 
L 

H 

L 

h 
I 

h 
I 

I 
M 

I 

i 
m 

I 
m 

N 

N 

n 

n 

0 

O 

0 

0 

P 

P 

P 

P 

Q 

i 

q 

9 

R 

R 

r 

r 

# 

S 

s 

s 

T 

T 

t 

t 

U 

U 

u 

u 

V 

V 

W 

W 

w 

w 

X 

X 

X 

X 

T 

r 

y 

y 

z 

z 

z 

z 

Then  take  your  interior  epistle,  reduced  to  the  bi« 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK. 

literal  shape,  and  adapt  to  it  letter  by  letter  your  ex- 
terior epistle  in  the  biforra  character  ;  and  then  write 
it  out.  Let  the  exterior  epistle  be 

Do  not  go  tiU  I  come. 

Example  of  Adaptation. 

F        L          T. 

aa     bob.     ah     aba.b     a     bba. 

Do     not      go       till      I    come. 

I  add  another  large  example  of  the  same  cipher,  — • 
of  the  writing  of  anything  by  anything. 

The  interior  epistle ;  for  which  I  have  selected  the 
Spartan  despatch,  formerly  sent  in  the  Scytale. 

All  is  lost.  Mindarus  is  killed.  The  soldiers  want  food. 
We  can  neither  get  hence,  nor  stay  longer  here. 

The  exterior  epistle,  taken  from  Cicero's  first  letter, 
and  containing  the  Spartan  despatch  within  it. 

In  all  duty  or  rather  piety  towards  you  y  satisfy  every 
body  except  myself.  Myself  I  never  satisfy.  For  so  great 
are  the  services  which  you  have  rendered  mey  that  seeing 
you  did  not  rest  in  your  endeavours  on  my  behalf  till  the 
thing  was  doney  I  feel  as  if  life  had  lost  all  its  sweetness , 
because  I  cannot  do  as  much  in  this  cause  of  yours.  The 
occasions  are  these :  Ammonius  the  King's  ambassador 
openly  besieges  us  with  money :  the  business  is  carried  on 
through  the  same  creditors  who  were  employed  in  it  when 
you  were  here,  $c. 

The  doctrine  of  Ciphers  carries  along  with  it  another 
doctrine,  which  is  its  relative.  This  is  the  doctrine  of 
deciphering,  or  of  detecting  ciphers,  though  one  be 
}uite  ignorant  of  the  alphabet  used  or  the  private  un- 


120          TRANSLATION  OF  THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

derstanding  between  the  parties :  a  thing  requiring 
both  labour  and  ingenuity,  and  dedicated,  as  the  other 
likewise  is,  to  the  secrets  of  princes.  By  skilful  pre- 
caution indeed  it  may  be  made  useless  ;  though  as 
things  are  it  is  of  very  great  use.  For  if  good  and  safe 
ciphers  were  introduced,  there  are  very  many  of  them 
which  altogether  elude  and  exclude  the  decipherer, 
and  yet  are  sufficiently  convenient  and  ready  to  read 
and  write.  But  such  is  the  rawness  and  unskilfulness 
of  secretaries  and  clerks  in  the  courts  of  kings,  that  the 
greatest  matters  are  commonly  trusted  to  weak  and 
futile  ciphers. 

It  may  be  suspected  perhaps  that  in  this  enumera- 
tion and  census,  as  I  may  call  it,  of  arts,  my  object  is 
to  swell  the  ranks  of  the  sciences  thus  drawn  up  on 
parade,  that  the  numbers  of  them  may  raise  admira- 
tion ;  whereas  in  so  short  a  treatise,  though  the  num- 
bers may  perhaps  be  displayed,  the  force  and  value 
of  them  can  hardly  be  explained.  But  I  am  true  to 
my  design,  and  in  framing  this  globe  of  knowledge 
I  do  not  choose  to  omit  even  the  smaller  and  more 
remote  islands.  And  though  my  handling  of  these 
things  be  cursory,  it  is  not  (as  I  think)  superficial ;  but 
out  of  a  large  mass  of  matter  I  pick  out  with  a  fine 
point  the  kernels  and  marrows  of  them.  Of  this  how- 
ever I  leave  those  to  judge  who  are  most  skilful  in 
such  arts.  For  whereas  most  of  those  who  desire  to 
be  thought  multiscient  are  given  to  parade  the  terms 
and  externals  of  arts,  thereby  making  themselves  the 
admiration  of  those  who  do  not  understand  those  arts 
and  the  scorn  of  those  who  do  ;  I  hope  that  my  labours 
will  have  the  contrary  fate,  and  arrest  the  judgment  of 
those  most  who  are  most  skilful  in  the  several  arts,  and 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  121 

be  less  cared  for  by  the  rest.  As  for  those  arts  which 
may  appear  to  be  of  a  lower  order,  if  any  one  thinks 
that  I  make  somewhat  too  much  of  them,  let  him  look 
round,  and  he  will  see  that  men  who  are  great  and 
famous  in  their  own  counties,  when  they  come  up  to 
the  metropolis  and  seat  of  empire  are  almost  lost  in  the 
crowd,  and  of  no  mark ;  and  in  like  manner  it  is  not 
strange  that  these  lighter  arts  when  placed  by  the  side 
of  the  principal  and  superior  ones  appear  of  less  dig- 
nity ;  although  to  such  as  have  spent  their  chief  study 
upon  them  they  seem  great  and  illustrious  things. 
And  so  much  for  the  Organ  of  Discourse. 


CHAP.  II. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Method  of  Discourse  is  made  a 
substantive  and  principal  part  of  the  art  of  trans- 
mitting ;  and  is  named  Wisdom  of  Transmission. 
Different  kinds  of  Method  are  enumerated,  with  a 
note  of  their  advantages  and  disadvantages. 

LET  us  now  come  to  the  doctrine  concerning  the 
Method  of  Discourse.  This  has  been  commonly  han- 
dled as  a  part  of  Logic  ;  and  it  also  finds  a  place  in 
Rhetoric,  under  the  name  of  Disposition.  But  the 
placing  of  it  in  the  train  of  other  arts  has  led  to  the 
passing  over  of  many  things  relating  to  it  which  it  is 
useful  to  know.  I  have  therefore  thought  fit  to  make 
the  doctrine  concerning  Method  a  substantive  and  prin- 
cipal doctrine,  under  the  general  name  of  Wisdom  of 
Transmission.  The  kinds  of  method  being  various,  I 
will  begin  by  enumerating  rather  than  distributing 


122         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

them.  And  first,  for  the  "  one  and  only  method,'' 
with  its  distribution  of  everything  into  two  members, 
it  is  needless  to  speak  of  it ;  for  it  was  a  kind  of  cloud 
that  overshadowed  knowledge  for  awhile  and  blew 
over :  a  thing  no  doubt  both  very  weak  in  itself  and 
very  injurious  to  the  sciences.  For  while  these  men 
press  matters  by  the  laws  of  their  method,  and  when  a 
thing  does  not  aptly  fall  into  those  dichotomies,  either 
pass  it  by  or  force  it  out  of  its  natural  shape,  the  effect 
of  their  proceeding  is  this,  —  the  kernels  and  grains  of 
the  sciences  leap  out,  and  they  are  left  with  nothing  in 
their  grasp  but  the  dry  and  barren  husks.  And  there- 
fore this  kind  of  method  produces  empty  abridgments, 
and  destroys  the  solid  substance  of  knowledge. 

Let  the  first  difference  of  Method  then  be  this :  it  is 
either  Magistral  or  Initiative.  Observe  however  that 
in  using  the  word  "  initiative,"  I  do  not  mean  that  the 
business  of  the  latter  is  to  transmit  the  beginnings  only 
of  sciences,  of  the  former  to  transmit  the  entire  doc- 
trine. On  the  contrary  I  call  that  doctrine  initiative 
(borrowing  the  term  from  the  sacred  ceremonies) 
which  discloses  and  lays  bare  the  very  mysteries  of  the 
sciences.  The  magistral  method  teaches  ;  the  initia- 
tive intimates.  The  magistral  requires  that  what  is 
told  should  be  believed  ;  the  initiative  that  it  should  be 
examined.  The  one  transmits  knowledge  to  the  crowd 
of  learners ;  the  other  to  the  sons,  as  it  were,  of  sci  • 
ence.  The  end  of  the  one  is  the  use  of  knowledges, 
as  they  now  are ;  of  the  other  the  continuation  and 
further  progression  of  them.  Of  these  methods  the 
latter  seems  to  be  like  a  road  abandoned  and  stopped 
up  ;  for  as  knowledges  have  hitherto  been  delivered, 
there  is  a  kind  of  contract  of  error  between  the  de« 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  123 

liverer  and  the  receiver;  for  he  who  delivers  knowl- 
edge desires  to  deliver  it  in  such  form  as  may  be  best 
believed,  and  not  as  may  be  most  conveniently  ex- 
amined ;  and  he  who  receives  knowledge  desires  pres- 
ent satisfaction,  without  waiting  for  due  inquiry ;  and 
so  rather  not  to  doubt,  than  not  to  err ;  glory  making 
the  deliverer  careful  not  to  lay  open  his  weakness,  and 
sloth  making  the  receiver  unwilling  to  try  his  strength. 
But  knowledge  that  is  delivered  to  others  as  a  thread 
to  be  spun  on  ought  to  be  insinuated  (if  it  were  pos- 
sible) in  the  same  method  wherein  it  was  originally 
invented.  And  this  indeed  is  possible  in  knowledge 
gained  by  induction ;  but  in  this  same  anticipated  and 
premature  knowledge  (which  is  in  use)  a  man  cannot 
easily  say  how  he  came  to  the  knowledge  which  he  has 
obtained.  Yet  certainly  it  is  possible  for  a  man  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree  to  revisit  his  own  knowledge, 
and  trace  over  again  the  footsteps  both  of  his  cognition 
and  consent ;  and  by  that  means  to  transplant  it  into 
another  mind  just  as  it  grew  in  his  own.  For  it  is  in 
knowledges  as  it  is  in  plants  ;  if  you  mean  to  use  the 
plant,  it  is  no  matter  what  you  do  with  the  root ;  but 
if  you  mean  to  remove  it  to  grow,  then  it  is  safer  to 
use  roots  than  slips.  So  the  method  of  transmitting 
knowledge  which  is  now  in  use  presents  trunks  as  it 
were  of  sciences  (and  fair  ones  too),  but  without  the 
roots ;  good  for  the  carpenter,  but  useless  for  the 
planter.  But  if  you  will  have  sciences  grow,  you 
need  not  much  care  about  the  body  of  the  tree  ;  only 
look  well  to  this,  that  the  roots  be  taken  up  uninjured, 
and  with  a  little  earth  adhering  to  them.  Of  which 
kind  of  transmission  the  method  of  the  mathematicians 
has,  in  that  subject,  some  shadow;  but  generally  I  do 


124  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

not  see  it  either  put  in  use  or  inquired  of.  Theiefore 
I  note  it  as  deficient,  and  term  it  the  Handing  on  of  the 
Lamp,  or  Method  of  Delivery  to  Posterity. 

Another  diversity  of  Method  there  is,  which  in  in- 
tention lias  an  affinity  with  the  former,  but  is  in  real- 
ity almost  contrary.  For  both  methods  agree  in  aim- 
ing to  separate  the  vulgar  among  the  auditors  from  the 
select ;  but  then  they  are  opposed  in  this,  that  the 
former  makes  use  of  a  way  of  delivery  more  open  than 
the  common,  the  latter  (of  which  I  am  now  going  to 
speak)  of  one  more  secret.  Let  the  one  then  be  dis- 
tinguished as  the  Exoteric  method,  the  other  as  the 
Acrodmatic ;  a  distinction  observed  by  the  ancients 
principally  in  the  publication  of  books,  but  which  I 
transfer  to  the  method  of  delivery.  Indeed  this  acroa- 
matic  or  enigmatical  method  was  itself  used  among  the 
ancients,  and  employed  with  judgment  and  discretion. 
But  in  later  times  it  has  been  disgraced  by  many,  who 
have  made  it  as  a  false  and  deceitful  light  to  put  for- 
ward their  counterfeit  merchandise.  The  intention  of 
it  however  seems  to  be  by  obscurity  of  delivery  to  ex- 
clude the  vulgar  (that  is  the  profane  vulgar)  from  the 
secrets  of  knowledges,  and  to  admit  those  only  who 
have  either  received  the  interpretation  of  the  enigmas 
through  the  hands  of  the  teachers,  or  have  wits  of  sue! 
sharpness  and  discernment  as  can  pierce  the  veil. 

Next  comes  another  diversity  of  Method,  of  great 
consequence  to  science ;  which  is  the  delivery  of 
knowledge  in  aphorisms,  or  in  methods.  For  it  is  spe- 
cially to  be  noted,  that  it  has  become  the  fashion  to 
make,  out  of  a  few  axioms  and  observations  upon  any 
subject,  a  kind  of  complete  and  formal  art,  filling  it  up 
with  some  discourses,  illustrating  it  with  examples,  and 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  126 

digesting  it  into  method.  But  that  other  delivery  by 
aphorisms  has  many  excellent  virtues  whereto  the  me- 
thodical delivery  does  not  attain.  First  it  tries  the 
writer,  whether  he  be  light  and  superficial  in  his  knowl- 
edge, or  solid.  For  aphorisms,  not  to  be  ridiculous, 
must  be  made  out  of  the  pith  and  heart  of  sciences. 
For  illustration  and  excursion  are  cut  off;  variety  of 
examples  is  cut  off;  deduction  and  connexion  are  cut 
off:  descriptions  of  practice  are  cut  off;  so  there  is 
nothing  left  to  make  the  aphorisms  of  but  some  good 
quantity  of  observation.  And  therefore  a  man  will  not 
be  equal  to  the  writing  in  aphorisms,  nor  indeed  will 
he  think  of  doing  so,  unless  he  feel  that  he  is  amply 
and  solidly  furnished  for  the  work.  But  in  methods, 

Tan  turn  series  juncturaque  pollet, 

Tantum  de  medio  sumptis  accedit  honoris,1 

that  those  things  many  times  carry  a  show  of  I  know 
not  what  excellent  art,  which  if  they  were  taken  to 
pieces,  separated,  and  stripped,  would  shrink  to  little 
or  nothing.  Secondly,  methodical  delivery  is  fit  to  win 
consent  or  belief,  but  of  little  use  to  give  directions  for 
practice  ;  for  it  carries  a  kind  of  demonstration  in  cir- 
cle, one  part  illuminating  another,  and  therefore  more 
satisfies  the  understanding ;  but  as  actions  in  common 
life  are  dispersed,  and  not  arranged  in  order,  dispersed 
directions  do  best  for  them.  Lastly,  aphorisms,  repre- 
senting only  portions  and  as  it  were  fragments  of  knowl- 
edge, invite  others  to  contribute  and  add  something 
in  their  turn  ;  whereas  methodical  delivery,  carrying 
the  show  of  a  total,  makes  men  careless,  as  if  they 
were  already  at  the  end. 

1  Hor.  Ep.  ad  Pisones,  242.:  — 

The  order  and  the  joining  give  such  graces, 
Mean  matters  take  such  honour  from  their  places. 


126          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

Next  comes  another  diversity  of  Method,  which  is 
likewise  of  great  weight;  namely  the  delivery  of 
knowledge  by  assertions  with  proofs,  or  by  questions 
with  determinations ;  the  latter  kind  whereof,  if  it  be 
immoderately  followed,  is  as  prejudicial  to  the  advance- 
ment of  learning,  as  it  is  detrimental  to  the  fortunes 
and  progress  of  an  army  to  go  about  to  besiege  every 
little  fort  or  hold.  For  if  the  field  be  kept,  and  the 
sum  of  the  enterprise  pursued,  those  smaller  thing, 
will  come  in  of  themselves ;  although  it  is  true  that  to 
leave  a  great  and  fortified  town  in  the  rear  would  not 
be  always  safe.  In  like  manner  in  the  transmission  of 
knowledge  confutations  should  be  refrained  from ;  and 
only  employed  to  remove  strong  preoccupations  and 
prejudgments,  and  not  to  excite  and  provoke  the 
lighter  kind  of  doubts. 

Next  comes  another  diversity  of  Method,  namely 
that  the  method  used  should  be  according  to  the  subject- 
matter  which  is  handled.  For  there  is  one  method  of 
delivery  in  the  mathematics  (which  are  the  most  ab- 
stracted and  simple  of  knowledges),  another  in  politics 
(which  are  the  most  immersed  and  compounded). 
And  (as  I  have  already  said)  uniformity  of  method  is 
not  compatible  with  multiformity  of  matter.  Where- 
fore as  I  approved  of  Particular  Topics  for  invention, 
so  to  a  certain  extent  I  allow  likewise  of  Particulai 
Methods  for  transmission. 

Next  comes  another  diversity  of  Method,  which  in 
the  delivery  of  knowledge  is  to  be  used  with  discre- 
tion. This  is  regulated  according  to  the  informations 
and  anticipations  already  infused  and  impressed  on  the 
minds  of  the  learners  concerning  the  knowledge  which 
is  to  be  delivered.  For  that  knowledge  which  comes 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK.  127 

altogether  new  and  strange  to  men's  minds  is  to  be  de- 
livered in  another  form  than  that  which  is  akin  and 
familiar  to  opinions  already  taken  in  and  received. 
And  therefore  Aristotle,  when  he  thinks  to  tax  Democ- 
ritus,  does  in  truth  commend  him,  where  he  says,  "  If 
we  shall  indeed  dispute,  and  not  follow  after  simili- 
tudes," l  &c. ;  thus  making  it  a  charge  against  Democ- 
ritus,  that  he  was  too  fond  of  comparisons.  For  those 
whose  conceits  are  already  seated  in  popular  opinions, 
need  but  to  dispute  and  prove  ;  Vhereas  those  whose 
conceits  are  beyond  popular  opinions,  have  a  double 
labour;  first  to  make  them  understood,  and  then  to 
prove  them ;  so  that  they  are  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  similitudes  and  metaphors  to  convey  their  meaning. 
We  see  therefore  in  the  infancy  of  learning,  and  in 
rude  times,  when  these  conceits  which  are  now  old  and 
trivial  were  new  and  unheard  of,  that  the  world  was 
full  of  parables  and  similitudes.  For  else  would  men 
either  have  passed  over  without  due  mark  or  atten- 
tion, or  else  rejected  as  paradoxical,  that  which  was  laid 
before  them.  For  it  is  a  rule  in  the  art  of  transmission, 
that  all  knowledge  which  is  not  agreeable  to  anticipa- 
tions or  presuppositions  must  seek  assistance  from  simi- 
litudes and  comparisons. 

And  so  much  for  the  diversities  of  Method,  which 
have  not  hitherto  been  pointed  out  by  others.  For  as 
for  those  other  methods,  —  Analytic,  Systatic,  Dia> 
retic,  also  Cryptic,  Homeric,  and  the  like,  —  they  are 
rightly  invented  and  distributed,  and  I  see  no  reason 
why  I  should  dwell  upon  them. 

Such  then  are  the  kinds  of  Method.  Its  parts  are 
two ;  the  one  relating  to  the  disposition  of  the  whole 

*  Arist.  Nic.  Eth.  vi.  3. 


128          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

work  or  argument  of  a  book ;  the  other  to  the  limita- 
tion of  propositions.  For  there  belongs  to  architecture 
not  only  the  frame  of  the  whole  building,  but  also  the 
formation  and  shape  of  the  several  beams  and  columns 
thereof ;  and  Method  is  as  it  were  the  architecture  of 
the  sciences.  And  herein  Ramus  merited  better  in 
reviving  those  excellent  rules  of  propositions  (that  they 
should  be  true,  universally,  primarily,  and  essentially1), 
than  he  did  in  introducing  his  uniform  method  and 
dichotomies ;  and  yet  it  comes  ever  to  pass,  I  know 
not  how,  that  in  human  affairs  (according  to  the  com- 
mon fiction  of  the  poets)  "  the  most  precious  things 
have  the  most  pernicious  keepers."  Certainly  the  at- 
tempt of  Ramus  to  amend  propositions  drove  him  upon 
those  epitomes  and  shallows  of  knowledge.  For  he 
must  have  a  lucky  and  a  happy  genius  to  guide  him 
who  shall  attempt  to  make  the  axioms  of  sciences  con- 
vertible, and  shall  not  withal  make  them  circular,  or 
returning  into  themselves.  Nevertheless  I  must  con- 
fess that  the  intention  of  Ramus  in  this  was  excellent. 

There  still  remain  two  limitations  of  propositions,  be- 
sides that  for  making  them  convertible  ;  the  one  regard- 
ing their  extension,  the  other  their  production.  Cer- 
tainly sciences,  if  a  man  rightly  observe,  it,  have,  besides 
profundity,  two  other  dimensions,  namely  latitude  and 
longitude.  The  profundity  relates  to  their  truth  and 
reality  ;  for  it  is  they  which  give  solidity.  As.to  the 
other  two,  the  latitude  may  be  accounted  and  computed 
from  one  science  to  another ;  the  longitude  from  the 
highest  proposition  to  the  lowest  in  the  same  science. 
The  one  contains  the  true  bounds  and  limits  of  sciences, 
that  the  propositions  thereof  may  be  handled  properly, 
1  Ka$6Aoi>  xpurov,  Kara  iravrbf,  Ka&'  avro,  &c. 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK.  129 

not  promiscuously,  and  repetition,  excursion,  and  all 
confusion  may  be  avoided ;  the  other  prescribes  the 
rule  how  far  and  to  what  degree  of  particularity  the 
propositions  of  a  science  should  be  deduced.  For  cer- 
tainly something  must  be  left  to  exercise  and  practice ; 
since  we  should  avoid  the  error  of  Antoninus  Pius  and 
not  be  "  splitters  of  cummin  seeds "  in  the  sciences, 
nor  multiply  divisions  to  extreme  minuteness.  There- 
fore it  is  plainly  worth  inquiry  how  we  are  to  guide 
ourselves  in  this  matter.  For  we  see  that  too  remote 
generalities  (unless  they  be  deduced)  give  little  infor- 
mation, and  do  but  offer  knowledge  to  the  scorn  of 
practical  men  ;  being  of  no  more  avail  for  practice,  than 
an  Ortelius's  universal  map  is  to  direct  the  way  between 
London  and  York.  Certainly  the  best  sort  of  rules 
are  not  unfitly  compared  to  mirrors  of  steel,  where  you 
may  see  the  images  of  things,  but  not  before  they  are 
polished ;  so  rules  and  precepts  will  help  if  they  be 
laboured  and  polished  by  practice,  but  not  otherwise. 
But  if  these  rules  could  be  made  clear  and  crystalline 
from  the  first,  it  were  best ;  because  there  would  then 
be  less  need  of  continual  labour  and  practice.  And 
so  much  for  the  science  of  method,  which  I  have  called 
the  Wisdom  of  Transmission. 

And  yet  I  must  not  omit  to  mention,  that  some  per- 
sons more  ostentatious  than  learned  have  laboured 
about  a  kind  of  method  not  worthy  to  be  called  a  legit- 
imate method,  being  rather  a  method  of  imposture, 
which  nevertheless  would  no  doubt  be  very  acceptable 
to  certain  meddling  wits.  The  object  of  it  is  to 
sprinkle  little  drops  of  a  science  about,  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  any  sciolist  may  make  some  show  and  osten- 
tation of  learning.  Such  was  the  Art  of  Lullius  :  such 


130         TRANSLATION  OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

the  Typocosmy  traced  out  by  some  ;  being  nothing 
but  a  mass  and  heap  of  the  terms  of  all  arts,  to  the 
end  that  they  who  are  ready  with  the  terms  may  be 
thought  to  understand  the  arts  themselves.  Such  col- 

O 

lections  are  like  a  fripper's  or  broker's  shop,  that  has 
ends  of  everything,  but  nothing  of  worth. 


CHAP.  III. 

Of  the  foundations  and  office  of  Rhetoric.  Three  appen- 
dices of  Rhetoric,  which  relate  only  to  the  Prompt- 
uary ;  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil,  both  Simple  and 
Comparative  ;  Antitheses  of  Things  ;  Lesser  Forms 
of  Speeches. 

I  NOW  come  to  the  doctrine  concerning  the  Illustra- 
tion of  Discourse.  This  is  that  which  is  called  Rhet- 
oric, or  Oratory ;  a  science  certainly  both  excellent  in 
itself,  and  excellently  well  laboured.  Truly  valued 
indeed,  eloquence  is  doubtless  inferior  to  wisdom.  For 
what  a  distance  there  is  between  them  is  shown  in  the 
words  spoken  by  God  to  Moses,  when  he  declined  the 
office  assigned  him  on  the  ground  that  he  was  no 
speaker;  "There  is  Aaron,  he  shall  be  thy  speaker, 
thou  shalt  be  to  him  as  God."  l  Yet  in  profit  and  in 
popular  estimation  wisdom  yields  to  eloquence  ;  for  so 
Solomon  says  ;  "  The  wise  in  heart  shall  be  called 
prudent,  but  he  that  is  sweet  of  speech  shall  compass 
greater  things ;  "  2  plainly  signifying  that  wisdom  will 
help  a  man  to  a  name  or  admiration,  but  that  it  is  elo- 
quence which  prevails  most  in  action  and  common  life. 

1  Exod.  iv.  16.  2  Prov.  xvi.  21. 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK.  131 

But  as  to  the  labouring  of  this  art,  the  emulation  of 
Aristotle  Avith  the  rhetoricians  of  his  time,  and  the 
eager  and  vehement  zeal  of  Cicero  doing  his  utmost  to 
ennoble  it,  coupled  with  his  long  experience,  has  made 
them  in  their  works  on  rhetoric  exceed  themselves. 
Again  those  most  brilliant  examples  of  the  art  whici 
we  have  in  the  orations  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero, 
added  to  the  perfection  and  skih1  of  the  precepts,  have 
doubled  the  progression  in  it.  And  therefore  the  defi- 
ciencies which  I  shall  note  will  rather  be  in  some  col- 
lections which  may  as  handmaids  attend  the  art,  than 
in  the  rules  and  use  of  the  art  itself.  For  when  in 
treating  of  Logic  I  made  mention  of  a  certain  Prompt- 
uary  or  Preparatory  Store,  I  promised  to  produce  fuller 
examples  of  it  in  Rhetoric. 

Notwithstanding,  to  open  and  stir  the  earth  a  little, 
according  to  my  custom,  about  the  roots  of  this  science ; 
Rhetoric  is  subservient  to  the  imagination,  as  Logic  is 
to  the  understanding  ;  and  the  duty  and  office  of  Rhet- 
oric, if  it  be  deeply  looked  into,  is  no  other  than  to 
apply  and  recommend  the  dictates  of  reason  to  imagi- 
nation, in  order  to  excite  the  appetite  and  will.  For 
we  see  that  the  government  of  reason  is  assailed  and 
disordered  in  three  ways  ;  either  by  the  illaqueation  of 
sophisms,  which  pertains  to  Logic ;  or  by  juggleries 
of  words,  which  pertain  to  Rhetoric ;  or  by  the  vio- 
lence of  the  Passions,  which  pertains  to  Ethics.  For 
as  in  negotiations  with  others,  men  are  usually  wrought 
either  by  cunning,  or  by  importunity,  or  by  vehe- 
tnency ;  so  likewise  in  this  negotiation  within  our- 
selves, we  are  either  undermined  by  fallacies  of  argu- 
ments, or  solicited  and  importuned  by  assiduity  of  im- 
pressions and  observations,  or  agitated  and  transported 


132          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

by  violence  of  passions.  And  yet  the  nature  of  man  is 
not  so  unfortunately  built,  as  that  those  arts  and  facul- 
ties should  have  power  to  disturb  reason,  and  no  power 
to  strengthen  or  establish  it ;  on  the  contrary  they  are 
of  much  more  use  that  way.  For  the  end  of  logic  is 
to  teach  a  form  of  argument  to  secure  reason,  and  not 
to  entrap  it ;  the  end  likewise  of  moral  philosophy  is  to 
procure  the  affections  to  fight  on  the  side  of  reason, 
and  not  to  invade  it ;  the  end  of  rhetoric  is  to  fill  the 
imagination  with  observations  and  images,  to  second 
reason,  and  not  to  oppress  it.  For  abuses  of  arts  only 
come  in  indirectly,  as  things  to  guard  against,  not  as 
things  to  practise. 

And  therefore  it  was  great  injustice  in  Plato  (though 
springing  out  of  a  just  hatred  of  the  rhetoricians  of 
his  time)  to  place  rhetoric  among  arts  voluptuary ; 
resembling  it  to  cookery,  which  did  as  much  to  spoil 
wholesome  meats,  as  by  variety  and  delicacy  of  sauces 
to  make  unwholesome  meats  more  palatable.1  But 
God  forbid  that  speech  should  not  be  much  more  con- 
versant in  adorning  that  which  is  good,  than  in  colour- 
ing that  which  is  evil ;  for  this  is  a  thing  in  use  every- 
where ;  there  being  no  man  but  speaks  more  honestly 
than  he  thinks  or  acts.  And  it  was  excellently  noted 
by  Thucydides  as  a  censure  passed  upon  Cleon,  that 
because  he  used  always  to  hold  on  the  bad  side,  there- 
fore he  was  ever  inveighing  against  eloquence  and 
grace  of  speech  ;  as  well  knowing  that  no  man  can 
speak  fair  of  courses  sordid  and  base ;  while  it  is  easy 
to  do  it  of  courses  just  and  honourable.2  For  Plato 
said  elegantly  (though  it  has  now  grown  into  a  com- 
mon-place) "that  virtue,  if  she  could  be  seen,  would 
l  Cf.  Plato,  Gorgias,  p.  462,  &c.  a  Cf.  Thucyd.  iii.  42. 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK.  133 

move  great  love  and  affection  ;  " 1  and  it  is  the  busi- 
ness of  rhetoric  to  make  pictures  of  virtue  and  good- 
ness, so  that  they  may  be  seen.  For  since  they  cannot 
be  showed  to  the  sense  in  corporeal  shape,  the  next 
degree  is  to  show  them  to  the  imagination  in  as  lively 
representation  as  possible,  by  ornament  of  words.  For 
the  method  of  the  Stoics,  who  thought  to  thrust  virtue 
upon  men  by  concise  and  sharp  maxims  and  conclu- 
sions, which  have  little  sympathy  with  the  imagination 
and  will  of  man,  has  been  justly  ridiculed  by  Cicero.2 
Again,  if  the  affections  themselves  were  brought  to 
order,  and  pliant  and  obedient  to  reason,  it  is  true 
there  would  be  no  great  use  of  persuasions  and  insinua- 
tions to  give  access  to  the  mind,  but  naked  and  simple 
propositions  and  proofs  would  be  enough.  But  the 
affections  do  on  the  contrary  make  such  secessions  and 
raise  such  mutinies  and  seditions  (according  to  the 
saying, 

Video  meliora  proboque, 

Deteriora  sequor) 8 

that  reason  would  become  captive  and  servile,  if  elo- 
quence of  persuasions  did  not  win  the  imagination  from 
the  affections'  part,  and  contract  a  confederacy  between 
the  reason  and  imagination  against  them.  For  it  must 
be  observed  that  the  affections  themselves  carry  ever 
an  appetite  to  apparent  good,  and  have  this  in  common 
with  reason ;  but  the  difference  is  that  affection  beholds 
principally  the  good  which  is  present ;  reason  looks  be- 
yond and  beholds  likewise  the  future  and  sum  of  all. 
A.nd  therefore  the  present  filling  the  imagination  more, 

1  Cf.  Plato,  Phadrus,  p.  250.  2  Cicero,  De  Fin.  iv.  18  and  19 

«  Ovid,  Metam.  vii.  20. :  — 

The  better  course  I  know  and  well  approve ; 

The  worse  I  follow. 


lo-4         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS. ' 

reason  is  commonly  vanquished  and  overcome.  But 
after  eloquence  and  force  of  persuasion  have  made 
things  future  and  remote  appear  as  present,  then  upon 
the  revolt  of  imagination  to  reason,  reason  prevails. 

Let  us  conclude  therefore  that  rhetoric  can  be  no 
more  blamed  for  knowing  how  to  colour  the  worse  side, 
than  logic  for  teaching  how  to  make  fine  sophisms. 
For  who  does  not  know  that  the  principle  of  contraries 
is  the  same,  though  the  use  be  opposite  ?  It  appears 
also  that  logic  differs  from  rhetoric  not  only  (as  is  com- 
monly said)  in  that  the  one  is  like  the  fist,  and  the  other 
like  the  open  hand  (time  is  the  one  close,  the  other  at 
large *) ;  but  much  more  in  this,  that  logic  handles  rea- 
son in  truth  and  nature,  and  rtfetoric  handles  it  as  it  is 
planted  in  the  opinions  of  the  vulgar.  And  therefore 
Aristotle  wisely  places  rhetoric  between  logic  on  the 
one  side,  and  moral  and  civil  knowledge  on  the  other, 
as  participating  of  both.2  For  the  proofs  and  demon- 
strations of  logic  are  the  same  to  all  men ;  but  the 
proofs  and  persuasions  of  rhetoric  ought  to  differ  ac- 
cording to  the  auditors ;  so  that  like  a  musician  accom- 
modating his  skill  to  different  ears,  a  man  should  be 

Orpheus  in  silvis,  inter -delphinas  Arion;  8 

which  application  and  variety  of  speech,  in  perfection 
of  idea,  ought  to  extend  so  far,  that  if  a  man  should 
speak  of  the  same  thing  to  several  persons,  he  should 
nevertheless  use  different  words  to  each  of  them; 
though  this  politic  and  familiar  part  of  eloquence  in 
private  discourse  it  is  certain  that  the  greatest  orators 

l  Cf.  Cicero,  De  Fin.  ii.  17.  2  Arist.  Rhet.  i.  2. 

«  Virg.  Eel.  viii.  56.:  — 

Orpheus  by  land  the  trees  about  him  bringing, 

By  sea,  Arion  to  the  dolphins  singing. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  135 

commonly  want ;  while  in  observing  their  well  graced 
forms  of  speech,  they  lose  that  volubility  of  application, 
and  those  characters  of  style,  which  it  would  be  better 
to  use  in  addressing  different  individuals.  And  there- 
fore it  will  not  be  amiss  to  recommend  this  of  which  I 
now  speak  to  fresh  inquiry,  and  calling  it  by  the  name 
of  The  Wisdom  of  Private  Discourse  to  set  it  down 
among  the  deficients ;  being  a  thing  which  the  more  it 
is  considered  the  more  it  will  be  valued.  But  whether 
it  be  placed  in  rhetoric  or  in  policy,  is  a  matter  of  little 
moment. 

Let  us  now  descend  to  the  deficiencies  in  this  art, 
which  (as  I  said  before)  are  rather  as  appendices  than 
parts  of  the  art  itself,  and  all  belong  to  the  Promptu- 
ary.  First  therefore  I  do  not  find  the  wisdom  and  dil- 
igence of  Aristotle  well  pursued  and  supplied.  For  he 
began  to  make  a  collection  of  the  popular  signs  or  col- 
ours of  apparent  good  and  evil,  both  simple,  and  compar- 
ative ;  which  are  really  the  sophisms  of  rhetoric.  Now 
these  are  of  excellent  use,  especially  for  business  and 
the  wisdom  of  private  discourse.  But  the  labours  of 
Aristotle1  regarding  these  colours  are  in  three  points 
defective ;  one,  that  he  recounts  a  few  only  out  of 
many;  another,  that  he  does  not  add  the  answers  to 
them ;  and  the  third,  that  he  seems  to  have  conceived 
but  a  part  of  the  use  of  them.  For  their  use  is  not 
more  for  probation  than  for  affecting  and  moving.  For 
there  are  many  forms  which,  though  they  mean  the 
same,  yet  affect  differently ;  as  the  difference  is  great 
in  the  piercing  of  that  which  is  sharp  and  that  which 
is  flat,  though  the  strength  of  the  percussion  be*  the 
same.  Certainly  there  is  no  man  who  will  not  be 

1  Arist.  Rhetoric,  i.  6  and  7. 


136          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

more  affected  by  hearing  it  said,  "  Your  enemies  will 
be  glad  of  this," 

Hoc  Ithacus  velit,  et  magno  mcrcentur  Atridse,1 

than  by  hearing  it  said  only,  "  This  will  be  evil  for 
you."  Therefore  these  points  and  stings  of  Avords  are 
by  no  means  to  be  neglected.  But  as  I  set  this  down 
as  deficient,  I  will  according  to  my  custom  support  it 
by  examples ;  for  precepts  would  not  give  a  sufficient 
illustration  of  the  thing. 

Examples  of  the  Colours  of  Good  and  Eml,  both  Simple 
and  Comparative. 

SOPHISM. 

1.  What  men  praise  and  honour  is  good ;  what  they 
dispraise  and  condemn  is  evil. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives  in  four  ways ;  by  reason  of 
ignorance,  of  bad  faith,  of  party  spirit  and  factions,  of 
the  natural  dispositions  of  those  who  praise  and  blame. 
By  reason  of  ignorance  ;  for  what  is  popular  judgment 
worth  as  a  test  of  good  and  evil  ?  Better  was  Pho- 
cion's  inference,  who  when  the  people  applauded  him 
more  than  usual,  asked  whether  he  had  done  wrong.2 
By  reason  of  bad  faith,  because  in  praising  and  blam- 
ing, men  are  commonly  thinking  of  their  own  business, 
nd  not  speaking  what  they  think. 

Laudat  venales,  qui  vult  extrudere,  merces.8 

i  Virg.  JEn.  ii.  104.,-  — 

This  would  Ulysses  wish,  and  Atreus'  sons 
Give  much  to  hear  of. 

*  Plutarch,  in  Phocion,  c.  8. 

*  Hor.  Ep.  ii.  2.  11. :  —  The  merchant  praises  what  he  wauts  to  sell. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  137 

And  again ;  "  It  is  naught,  it  is  naught  (says  the  buy 
3r) ;  but  when  he  is  gone  his  way,  he  will  vaunt."1  By 
reason  of  factions ;  for  any  man  may  see  that  men  are 
wont  to  exalt  those  of  their  own  party  with  immod- 
erate praises,  and  depress  below  their  desert  those  of 
the  contrary.  By  reason  of  natural  disposition ;  for 
some  men  are  by  nature  formed  and  composed  for  ser- 
vile adulation,  while  others  on  the  contrary  are  crabbed 
and  captious  ;  so  that  in  praising  and  blaming  they  do 
but  gratify  their  own  dispositions,  with  little  regard  to 
truth. 

SOPHISM. 

2.  What  is  praised  even  by  enemies,  is  a  great  good; 
but  what  is  reproved  even  by  friends,  is  a  great  evil. 

This  Sophism  appears  to  rest  on  the  ground  that 
that  which  we  speak  -unwillingly  and  against  our  wish 
and  inclination  may  be  supposed  to  be  wrung  from  us 
by  the  force  of  truth. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives  by  reason  of  the  cunning  as 
well  of  enemies  as  of  friends.  For  enemies  sometimes 
bestow  praise,  not  against  their  will,  nor  as  being  com- 
pelled thereto  by  the  force  of  truth,  but  choosing  such 
points  for  praise  as  may  breed  envy  and  dangers  to  the 
subjects  of  it.  And  hence  there  was  a  prevailing  su- 
perstition amongst  the  Greeks,  that  when  a  man  was 
praised  by  another  with  a  malicious  purpose  to  injure 
him,  a  pimple  would  grow  upon  his  nose.  It  deceives 
likewise,  because  enemies  sometimes  bestow  praises 
merely  by  way  of  preface,  that  they  may  afterwards 
calumniate  more  freely  and  maliciously.  On  the  other 

1  Proverbs,  xx.  14. 


138         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

hand,  this  Sophism  deceives  also  by  reason  of  the  cun- 
ning of  friends.  For  they  too  are  wont  sometimes  to 
acknowledge  and  proclaim  the  faults  of  their  friends, 
not  because  truth  compels  them,  but  choosing  such 
faults  as  may  do  them  least  injury ;  as  if  in  other 
respects  they  were  excellent  men.  It  deceives  again, 
because  friends  also  use  reprehensions  (as  I  have  said 
that  enemies  bestow  praises)  by  way  ^  of  prefaces, 
whereby  they  may  presently  be  the  more  large  in 
commendation. 

SOPHISM. 

3.  That  which  it  is  good  to  be  deprived  of,  is  in  itself 
an  evil ;  that  which  it  is  bad  to  be  deprived  of,  is  in  itself 
a  good. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives  in  two  ways ;  by  reason 
either  of  the  comparative  degrees  of  good  and  evil, 
or  of  the  succession  of  good  to  good,  or  evil  to  evil. 
By  reason  of  comparison :  if  it  was  for  the  good  of 
mankind  to  be  deprived  of  acorns  as  food,  it  does  not 
follow  that  that  food  was  bad ;  acorns  were  good,  but 
corn  is  better.  Nor  if  it  was  bad  for  the  Syracusans 
to  be  deprived  of  the  elder  Dionysius,  does  it  follow 
that  he  was  good,  but  that  he  was  not  so  bad  as  Di- 
onysius the  younger.  By  reason  of  succession:  —  for 
when  a  good  thing  is  taken  away  it  is  not  always  suc- 
ceeded by  a  bad  thing,  but  sometimes  by  a  greater 
good ;  as  when  the  flower  falls  and  the  fruit  succeeds. 
Neither  when  a  bad  thing  is  taken  away  is  it  always 
succeeded  by  a  good  thing,  but  sometimes  by  a  worse. 
For  by  the  removal  of  his  enemy  Clodius,  Milo  lost 
the  "seedbed  of  his  glory."1 

i  Cicero,  Pro  Mil.  36. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  139 

SOPHISM. 

4.  That  which  approaches  to  good  or  evil,  is  itself  good 
or  evil;  but  that  which  is  remote  from  good  is  evil,  that 
from  evil,  good. 

It  is  commonly  found  that  things  which  agree  in 
nature  are  placed  together,  and  that  things  of  a  con- 
trary nature  are  placed  apart ;  for  everything  delights 
to  associate  with  itself  that  which  is  agreeable,  and  to 
repel  that  which  is  disagreeable. 

ANSWER. 

But  this  Sophism  deceives  in  three  ways ;  by  reason, 
1st  of  destitution,  2ndly  of  obscuration,  and  3dly  of 
protection.  By  reason  of  destitution ;  for  it  happens 
that  those  things  which  are  most  abundant  and  excel- 
lent in  their  own  kind  attract  everything  as  far  as  may 
be  to  themselves,  spoiling  and  as  it  were  starving  all 
things  in  their  neighbourhood.  Thus  you  will  never 
find  flourishing  underwood  near  great  trees.  And 
rightly  was  it  said  "  that  the  servants  of  a  rich  man 
are  the  greatest  slaves."  So  also  the  lower  order  of 
courtiers  were  pleasantly  compared  to  the  vigils  of  fes- 
tivals, that  are  next  the  feast  days,  but  are  themselves 
devoted  to  fasting.  By  reason  of  obscuration  ;  for  all 
things  that  are  excellent  in  their  own  kind  have  this, 
—  that  though  they  do  not  impoverish  and  starve  the 
things  next  to  them,  yet  they  obscure  and  overshadow 
them  ;  as  astronomers  remark  of  the  sun,  that  it  is  good 
in  aspect,  but  evil  in  conjunction  and  approximation. 
By  reason  of  protection ;  for  it  is  not  only  for  consort 
and  similarity  of  nature  that  things  unite  and  collect 
together;  but  evil  also  (especially  in  civil  matters) 


140         TRANSLATION    OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

betakes  itself  to  good  for  concealment  and  protection. 
And  hence  malefactors  seek  the  protection  of  sanctu- 
aries, and  vice  itself  resorts  to  the  shadow  of  virtue ; 

Ssepe  latet  vitium  proximitate  boni.1 

So  on  the  other  hand  good  draws  near  to  evil,  not  for 
company,  but  to  convert  and  reform  it.  And  therefore 
physicians  attend  more  on  the  sick  than  the  healthy ; 
and  it  was  objected  to  our  Saviour  that  he  conversed 
with  publicans  and  sinners. 

SOPHISM. 

5.  That  to  which  the  other  parties  or  sects  agree  in 
giving  the  second  place  (each  putting  itself  first)  seems 
to  be  the  best ;  for  it  seems  that  in  taking  the  first  place 
they  are  moved  by  zeal  and  partiality,  but  in  bestowing 
the  second  by  truth  and  merit. 

So  Cicero  argues  that  the  sect  of  the  Academics, 
which  maintained  the  impossibility  of  comprehending 
truth,  was  the  best  of  the  philosophies.  "  For  (said 
he)  ask  a  Stoic  which  is  the  best  philosophy,  and  he 
will  prefer  his  own  to  the  rest ;  then  ask  him  which  is 
the  next  best,  and  he  will  acknowledge  the  Academic. 
So  again  the  Epicurean  (who  will  hardly  deign  to  look 
at  a  Stoic),  after  he  has  placed  his  own  philosophy  at 
the  head,  will  place  the  Academic  next."2  In  like 
manner,  when  a  place  is  vacant,  if  the  prince  were  to 
ask  each  candidate  whom  he  would  most  recommend 
next  to  himself,  it  is  probable  that  their  second  votes 
would  meet  in  the  most  able  and  deserving  man. 

1  Ovid,  De  Art.  Amand.  ii.  262. :  — 

Vice  often  lurks  'neath  Virtue's  shade. 
*  Cf-  the  fragment  of  the  Acndem.  ad  Van:  preserved  by  St.  Augustine. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  141 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives  by  reason  of  envy.  For  next 
to  themselves  and  their  own  party,  men  generally  in- 
cline to  those  who  are  weakest  and  least  formidable, 
and  have  given  them  least  trouble ;  in  despite  of  those? 
who  have  most  insulted  or  inconvenienced  them. 

SOPHISM. 

6.  That  which  is  better  in  perfection,  is  better  alto- 
gether. 

.To  this  belong  the  common  forms;  "Let  us  not 
wander  in  generalities,"  "  Let  us  compare  particular 
with  particular,"  &c. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  appears  forcible  enough,  and  rather 
logical  than  rhetorical ;  but  still  it  is  sometimes  decep- 
tive. First,  because  there  are  not  a  few  things  which 
are  very  much  exposed  to  danger,  yet  if  they  escape 
prove  excellent ;  so  that  in  kind  they  are  inferior,  as 
being  oftener  imperilled  and  lost,  but  individually  they 
are  more  noble.  Of  this  kind  is  a  blossom  in  March, 
whereof  the  French  proverb  says ;  "  A  March  blossom, 
and  a  Paris  child,  if  one  of  them  survive,  it  is  worth 
ten  others."1  So  that  generally  the  blossom  of  May 
is  superior  to  the  blossom  of  March ;  but  yet  individ- 
ually the  best  blossom  of  March  is  preferred  to  the 
best  of  May.  It  deceives  secondly,  by  reason  of  the 
nature  of  things  being  more  equal  in  some  kinds  or 
species,  and  more  unequal  in  others ;  as  it  has  been 

1  Bourgeon  de  Mars,  enfant  de  Paris, 
Si  un  eschape.  il  en  vaut  dix. 


142         TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUG.MF.NTIS." 

remarked  that  in  general  the  hotter  climates  produce 
the  sharper  wits ;  but  then  the  best  wits  of  the  colder 
climates  surpass  the  sharpest  of  the  hotter.  So  again 
in  many  armies  if  the  matter  were  tried  by  duel  be- 
tween two  champions,  the  victory  would  go  on  the  one 
side,  if  by  the  whole  army,  on  the  other.  For  excel- 
lencies and  superiorities  are  casual ;  whereas  kinds  are 
governed  by  nature  or  discipline.  In  kind  again,  metal 
is  more  precious  than  stone ;  but  yet  a  diamond  is  more 
precious  than  gold. 

SOPHISM. 

7.  That  which  keeps  the  matter  open,  is  good;  that 
which  leaves  no  opening  for  retreat,  is  bad.  For  not  to 
be  able  to  retreat  is  to  be  in  a  way  powerless  ;  and  power 
is  a  good. 

Hence  JEsop  derived  the  fable  of  the  two  frogs,  who 
in  a  great  drought,  when  water  was  everywhere  fail- 
ing, consulted  together  what  was  to  be  done.  The 
first  said,  "  Let  us  leap  down  into  a  deep  well,  since  it 
is  not  likely  that  the  water  will  fail  there."  But  the 
other  rejoined,  "  Yes,  but  if  it  chance  that  the  water 
fail  there  also,  how  shall  we  be  able  to  get  up  again?" 
And  the  ground  of  this  Sophism  is,  that  human  actions 
are  so  uncertain  and  subject  to  such  risks,  that  that 
appears  the  best  course  which  has  the  most  passages 
out  of  it.  To  this  belong  those  forms  which  are  in 
use,  —  "You  will  tie  your  hands  and  engage  yourself," 
"  You  will  not  be  free  to  take  what  fortune  may  offer," 
&c. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives,  first  because  in  human  ac- 
tions fortune  insists  that  some  resolution  shall  be  taken. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  143 

For,  as  it  was  prettily  said  by  some  one,  "  not  to  re- 
solve is  itself  to  resolve ;  "  so  that  many  times  suspen- 
sion of  resolution  involves  us  in  more  necessities  than 
a  resolution  would.  And  it  seems  to  be  the  same  dis- 
ease of  mind  which  is  found  in  misers,  only  transferred 
from  the  desire  of  keeping  money  to  the  desire  of  keep- 
ing freedom  of  will  and  power.  For  as  the  miser  will 
enjoy  nothing,  because  he  will  not  diminish  his  store, 
so  this  kind  of  sceptic  will  execute  nothing,  because 
he  will  still  keep  all  in  his  own  hands.  It  deceives 
secondly,  because  necessity,  and  the  casting  of  the  die 
(as  they  call  it),  is  a  spur  to  the  courage ;  as  one  says, 
"  Being  a  match  for  them  in  the  rest,  your  necessity 
makes  you  superior."1 

SOPHISM. 

8.  The  evil  which  a  man  brings  on  himself  by  his  own 
fault  is  greater ;  that  which  is  brought  on  him  by  exter- 
nal causes,  is  less. 

The  reason  of  this  is  that  the  sting  of  conscience 
doubles  adversity,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  being 
conscious  that  a  man  is  clear  and  free  from  fault  affords 
great  consolation  in  calamity.  And  therefore  the  poets 
most  exaggerate  those  sufferings,  as  coming  near  to 
despair,  where  a  man  accuses  and  torments  himself; 

Seque  unum  clamat,  causamque  caputque  malorum.2 

On  the  other  hand  the  calamities  of  worthy  persons 
Are  lightened  and  tempered  by  the  consciousness  of 
innocence  and  merit.  Besides  when  the  evil  is  in- 
flicted by  others,  a  man  has  something  that  he  may 

1  Livv,  iv.  28. 

2  Virg.  jEn.  xii.  600.:  —  And  on  herself  cries  out,  as  cause  of  all. 


144         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

freely  complain  of,  whereby  his  griefs  evaporate  and 
do  not  suffocate  the  heart.  For  in  things  which  come 
from  human  injury,  we  are  wont  to  feel  indignation,  or 
to  meditate  revenge,  or  to  implore,  or  if  not  to  implore 
yet  to  expect,  providential  retribution ;  and  even  if  the 
blow  come  from  fortune,  yet  is  there  left  a  kind  of 
expostulation  with  the  fates  themselves  ; 

Atque  Deos,  atque  astra  vocat  crudelia  mater.1 

Whereas  if  the  evil  be  derived  from  a  man's  own  fault, 
the  stings  of  pain  strike  inward,  and  more  wound  and 
lacerate  the  heart. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives,  first  by  reason  of  hope,  the 
great  antidote  of  evils.  For  amendment  of  a  fault  is 
often  in  our  power,  but  amendment  of  fortune  is  not. 
Hence  Demosthenes  more  than  once  addressed  his 
countrymen  in  words  like  these :  "  That  which,  hav- 
ing regard  to  the  time  past,  is  the  worst  point  and  cir- 
cumstance of  all  the  rest,  that  as  .to  the  time  to  come 
is  the  best.  What  is  that  ?  Even  this ;  that  it  is 
your  own  sloth,  irresolution,  and  misgovernment  that 
have  brought  your  affairs  into  this  ill  condition.  For 
had  you  ordered  your  means  and  forces  to  the  best  and 
done  your  parts  every  way  to  the  full,  and  notwith- 
standing your  matters  had  gone  backwards  as  they  do, 
there  had  been  no  hope  left  of  recovery  or  reparation. 
But  since  it  has  been  brought  about  chiefly  by  your 
own  errors,  you  may  fairly  trust  that  by  amending 
them  you  will  recover  your  former  condition."2  So 
Epictetus  discoursing  on  the  degrees  of  mental  tran- 

1  Virg.  Eclog.  v.  23. :  —  And  she  upbraids  the  gods  and  cruel  stare. 
8  Of.  Demosth.  Philipp.  i.  and  iii. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  145 

quillity,  puts  those  lowest  who  accuse  others,  next 
those  who  accuse  themselves,  and  highest  of  all  those 
who  accuse  neither  others  nor  themselves.1  It  deceives 
secondly,  by  reason  of  the  innate  pride  of  men's  minds, 
which  makes  them  unwilling  to  acknowledge  their  own 
errors.  This  to  avoid,  they  exercise  far  more  patience 
in  bearing  those  ills  which  they  have  brought  on  them- 
selves by  their  own  fault.  For  as  we  see  that  when  a 
fault  is  committed  and  it  is  not  yet  known  who  is  to 
blame,  men  are  exceeding  angry  and  make  much  ado 
about  it ;  but  if  afterwards  it  come  out  that  it  was  done 
by  a  son  or  a  wife  or  a  favourite,  all  is  at  once  hushed 
and  no  more  noise  made ;  so  it  is  when  anything  hap- 
pens for  which  we  must  needs  take  the  blame  upon  our- 
selves ;  as  we  see  it  very  often  in  women,  that  if  they 
have  done  anything  against  the  wishes  of  their  parents 
and  friends,  and  it  turn  out  ill,  whatever  misfortune 
follows  they  will  keep  it  to  themselves  and  set  a  good 
face  upon  it. 

SOPHISM. 

9.  From  something  to  nothing  appears  a  greater  step 
than  from  more  to  less  ;  and  again  from  nothing  to  some- 
thing appears  a  greater  step  than  from  less  to  more. 

It  is  a  rule  in  mathematics  that  there  is  no  propor- 
tion between  nothing  and  something  ;  and  therefore 
the  degrees  of  nullity  and  quiddity  appear  greater  than 
the  degrees  of  increase  and  decrease.  Thus  the  loss 
of  an  eye  is  harder  for  a  man  with  only  one  eye  than 
for  a  man  with  two.  In  like  manner  if  a  man  has 
several  children,  it  is  more  grief  to  him  to  lose  the  last 
surviving  son  than  all  the  rest.  Hence  also  the  Sibyl, 
when  she  had  burned  her  two  first  books,  doubled  the 

1  Epict.  Enchirid.  c.  5. 
VOL.  IX.  10 


146         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

price  of  the  third ;  for  the  loss  of  this  would  have  beep 
a  degree  of  privation,  and  not  of  diminution. 


ANSWER. 


This  Sophism  deceives,  first  in  respect  of  thos* 
things  whereof  the  use  consists  in  a  sufficiency  or  com 
petency,  that  is  in  a  determinate  quantity.  For  if  * 
man  were  bound  by  penalty  to  pay  a  certain  sum  of 
money  on  a  stated  day,  it  would  be  worse  for  him  tc 
be  one  pound  short,  than  (supposing  that  that  one 
could  not  be  got)  to  be  short  by  ten  pounds  more.  So 
in  the  wasting  of  fortunes,  the  degree  of  debt  which 
makes  the  first  inroad  on  the.  capital  seems  worse  than 
the  last  which  reduces  to  beggary.  To  this  belong  the 
common  forms ;  "  Sparing  comes  too  late  when  all  is 
gone  ;  "  l  "  as  good  never  a  whit  as  never  the  better," 
&c.  It  deceives  secondly,  in  respect  of  that  principle 
of  nature,  that  the  decay  of  one  thing  is  the  genera- 
tion of  another  ; 2  so  that  the  degree  of  extreme  priva- 
tion is  sometimes  of  less  disadvantage,  because  it  gives 
a  handle  and  stimulus  to  some  new  course.  Hence 
also  Demosthenes  often  complains  to  his  countrymen  ; 
"  That  the  terms  which  they  accepted  from  Philip,  not 
being  profitable  nor  honourable,  were  nothing  else  than 
aliments  of  their  sloth  and  indolence ;  which  they 
would  be  much  better  without ;  because  then  theit 
industry  might  be  better  excited  to  seek  other  reme- 
dies."3 I  knew  a  physician  that  when  delicate  women 
complained  that  they  were  ill  and  yet  could  not  endure 
to  take  any  medicine,  would  say  to  them,  not  less  wit- 
tily than  sharply,  "  Your  only  way  is  to  be  worse,  for 
then  you  will  be  glad  of  any  medicine."  Moreover 

1  Cf.  Erasm.  Adag.  ii.  2.  64.;  and  Hesiod.  Op.  et  Dies,  339. 

2  Arist.  De  Gen.  et  Corr.  i.  4.  «  Olynth.  iii.  33. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  147 

this  degree  of  privation  or  extreme  want  may  be  use- 
fill  not  only  to  stimulate  energy,  but  also  to  enforce 
patience. 

With  regard  to  the  second  part  of  this  Sophism,  it 
rests  on  the  same  foundation  as  the  former  (that  is  on 
the  legrees  of  nullity  and  quiddity).  Hence  the  mak- 
ing of  a  beginning  of  anything  is  thought  so  great  a 
matter  ; 

Dimidium  facti,  qui  bene  coepit,  habet,  &C.1 

Hence  also  the  superstition  of  astrologers,  who  make  a 
judgment  of  the  disposition  and  fortune  of  a  man  from 
the  point  or  moment  of  his  nativity  or  conception. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives,  first  because  in  some  cases 
the  first  beginnings  of  things  are  no  more  than  what 
Epicurus  in  his  philosophy  calls  tentamenta?  that  is 
imperfect  offers  and  essays,  which  are  nothing  unless 
they  be  repeated  or  proceeded  with.  Therefore  in  this 
case  the  second  degree  seems  more  worthy  and  more 
powerful  than  the  first,  as  the  wheel-horse  in  a  cart 
does  more  work  than  the  leader.  Again,  it  is  not  a 
bad  saying  "that  it  is  the  second  word  which  makes 
the  fray."  For  perhaps  the  first  would  have  passed. 
And  so  the  one  made  a  beginning  of  the  mischief,  but 
the  other  prevented  it  from  coming  to  an  end.  It 
deceives  secondly,  by  reason  of  the  dignity  of  per- 
severance ;  which  lies  in  the  progress,  not  in  the  first 
attempt.  For  chance  or  nature  may  give  the  first  im- 
pulse, but  only  a  settled  affection  and  judgment  can 
give  constancy.  It  deceives  thirdly,  in  those  things 

1  Hor.  Ep.  i.  2.  40. :  —Well  begun  is  half  done. 
3  Cf.  Lucretius,  v.  835. 


148         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

whereof  the  nature  and  ordinary  course  goes  against 
the  beginning  made  ;  so  that  the  first  start  is  ever 
being  frustrated  unless  the  force  be  kept  up ;  accord- 
ing to  the  common  forms  ;  "  Not  to  advance,  is  to  re- 
treat ;  "  "  He  who  is  not  gaining,  is  losing ;  "  as  in 
running  up  hill,  and  rowing  against  stream.  But  on 
the  other  hand,  if  the  motion  be  down  hill,  or  the  row- 
ing be  down  stream,  then  the  degree  of  inception  is  of 
far  greater  importance.  Besides,  this  colour  extends 
not  only  to  the  degree  of  inception,  which  proceeds 
from  power  to  act,  compared  with  the  degree  from  act 
to  increase  ;  but  also  to  the  degree  from  impotency  to 
power,  compared  with  the  degree  from  power  to  act. 
For  the  degree  from  impotency  to  power  seems  greater 
than  from  power  to  act. 

SOPHISM. 

10.  That  which  has  relation  to  truth  is  greater  than 
that  which  has  relation  to  opinion  ;  and  the  proof  that  a 
thing  has  relation  to  opinion  is  this :  it  is  that  which  a 
man  would  not  do  if  he  thought  it  would  not  be  known. 

So  the  Epicureans  say  of  the  Stoics'  Felicity  placed 
in  virtue,  that  it  is  like  the  felicity  of  a  player,  who  if 
he  were  left  of  his  auditory  and  their  applause,  would 
straight  be  out  of  heart  and  countenance.  And  there- 
fore in  derision  they  call  virtue  a  theatrical  good.  But 
it  is  otherwise  in  riches,  of  which  it  is  said, 

Populus  me  sibilat;  at  mihi  plaudo.1 

A.nd  likewise  of  pleasure, 

Grata  sub  imo 

Gaudia  corde  premens,  vnltu  simulante  pudorem.2 

i  Hor.  SaL  i.  1.66.:  —The  people  hiss  me,  but  I  applaud  myself. 
*  Theocr.  Id.  xxvii. :  — 

Her  face  said  fie,  for  shame ;  but  sweet  delight 

Possessed  her  heart  in  secret. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  149 

ANSWER. 

The  fallacy  of  this  Sophism  is  somewhat  more  sub- 
tle ;  though  the  answer  to  the  example  alleged  is  easy 
For  virtue  is  not  chosen  for  the  sake  of  popularity  ; 
since  it  is  a  precept,  that  a  man  should  above  all  things 
reverence  himself.1  So  that  a  good  man  will  be  the 

O 

same  in  solitude  as  on  the  stage  ;  though  perhaps  his 
virtue  may  be  somewhat  strengthened  by  praise,  as 
heat  is  increased  by  reflexion.  This  however  denies 
the  supposition,  and  does  not  refute  the  fallacy.  Now 
the  answer  is  this.  Allow  that  virtue  (especially  such 
as  is  attended  with  labours  and  conflicts)  would  not  be 
chosen,  except  for  the  sake  of  the  glory  and  fame 
accompanying  it ;  yet  it  does  not  therefore  follow  that 
the  motive  and  appetite  to  virtue  is  not  principally  for 
its  own  sake ;  for  fame  may  only  be  the  impulsive 
cause,  or  sine  qua  nan,  and  not  the  efficient  or  constit- 
uent cause.  For  instance ;  if  there  were  two  horses, 
and  one  of  them  without  the  spur  could  do  well,  but 
the  other  with  the  spur  could  do  much  better,  the  lat- 
ter should  in  my  judgment  bear  off  the  prize  and  be 
accounted  the  better  horse.  And  to  say  "  Tush,  the 
life  of  this  horse  is  in  the  spur,"  would  not  move  any 
man  of  sound  judgment ;  for  since  the  ordinary  instru- 
ment of  horsemanship  is  the  spur,  and  that  it  is  no 
manner  of  burden  or  impediment  to  the  rider,  the 
horse  that  is  quickened  with  the  spur  is  not  therefore 
to  be  less  valued ;  nor  again  is  the  other  that  does 
wonderfully  well  without  the  spur  to  be  reckoned  on 
.hat  account  the  better,  but  only  the  finer  and  daintier, 
So  glory  and  honour  are  the  spurs  of  virtue ;  and 

1  Pythag.  Aur.  Vers.  v.  12. :  —  TTUVTLJV  <5e  /luhor'  aior^weo  aavrov. 


150         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

though  virtue  would  somewhat  languish  without  them, 
yet  as  they  are  always  at  hand  to  attend  virtue,  even 
when  not  invited,  there  is  no  reason  why  virtue  may 
not  be  sought  for  its  own  sake  as  well.  And  thus  the 

O 

proposition  that  "  a  thing  which  is  chosen  for  opinion's 
sake  and  not  for  truth  may  be  known  by  this  —  it  is 
what  a  man  would  not  do  if  he  thought  it  would  not 
be  known,"  is  rightly  answered. 

SOPHISM. 

11.  That  which  is  gained  by  our  own  merit  and  in- 
dustry is  a  greater  good;  that  which  is  derived  from  the 
kindness  of  others  or  from  the  indulgence  of  fortune  a 
lesser  good. 

The  reasons  of  this  are,  —  first,  because  there  is 
better  hope  of  the  future ;  for  in  the  favours  of  others 
or  the  good  winds  of  fortune  there  is  little  certainty ; 
but  our  own  virtue  and  industiy  are  ever  with  us  ;  so 
that  after  we  have  obtained  some  good  in  this  way  we 
have  always  the  same  instruments  ready  to  use  again  ; 
yea,  and  by  habit  and  success  made  more  effective. 
Secondly,  because  for  what  we  get  by  the  favour  of 
other  men  we  are  other  men's  debtors  ;  whereas  what 
we  obtain  of  ourselves  carries  no  obligation  with  it. 
Nay,  even  when  divine  mercy  has  bestowed  any  fa- 
vour on  us,  it  demands  a  kind  of  retribution  to  the 
goodness  of  God,  which  is  distressing  to  depraved  and 
wicked  men  ;  whereas  in  the  former  kind,  that  comes 
to  pass  which  the  prophet  speaks  of,  "  Men  rejoice  and 
exult,  they  sacrifice  unto  their  net,  and  burn  incense 
unto  their  drag."1  Thirdly,  because  what  proceeds 
not  by  our  own  merit,  carries  with  it  no  praise  or  rep« 

l  Habakkuk,  i.  15, 16. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  151 

atatiou ;  for  felicity  begets  a  kind  of  admiration,  but 
not  praise.  As  Cicero  said  to  Cassar;  "  We  have 
enough  to  admire,  we  are  looking  for  something  to 
praise."  l  Fourthly,  because  the  things  obtained  by 
our  own  industry  are  generally  achieved  by  labour  ana 
exertion,  which  have  some  sweetness  in  themselves  ;  as 
Solomon  says,  "  Meat  taken  in  hunting  is  sweet." 

ANSWER. 

To  these  there  are  four  opposing  Sophisms,  which 
incline  to  the  contrary  side,  and  may  respectively  serve 
as  refutations  to  the  former.  The  first  is  that  felicity 
seems  to  be  a  kind  of  sign  and  character  of  the  divine 
favour ;  which  both  creates  confidence  and  alacrity  in 
ourselves,  and  wins  obedience  and  respect  from  others. 
And  this  felicity  extends  to  casual  things,  to  which 
virtue  hardly  aspires ;  as  when  Caesar  to  encourage  the 
pilot  said,  "  You  carry  Caasar  and  his  fortune ;  " 2 
whereas  if  he  had  said,  "  You  carry  Caasar  and  his 
virtue,"  it  would  have  been  but  cold  comfort  against 
the  dangers  of  a  storm.  The  second  is  that  the  deeds 
of  virtue  and  industry  are  imitable  and  open  to  others  ; 
whereas  felicity  is  inimitable,  and  a.  kind  of  prerogative 
of  the  individual  man.  Hence  we  generally  see  that 
natural  things  are  preferred  to  artificial,  because  they 
admit  not  of  imitation ;  for  whatever  is  imitable  is  po- 
tentially common.  The  third  is  that  things  which 
come  of  felicity  appear  free  gifts,  bought  without  toil 
but  things  gained  by  our  own  virtue  seem  as  paid  for. 
Therefore  Plutarch  said  elegantly,  in  comparing  the 
actions  of  Timoleon,  a  man  eminently  fortunate,  with 
those  of  his  contemporaries  Epaminondas  and  Agesi* 

1  Cicero,  Pro  Marcello,  c.  9. 

2  Plutarch,  De  Fortuna  Roman,  p.  319. 


152         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

laus,  "That  they  were  like  the  verses  of  Homer, 
which,  as  they  excel  in  other  respects,  so  they  seem  to 
flow  naturally,  and  as  it  were  at  the  inspiration  of 
genius." l  The  fourth  is  that  that  which  happens  con- 
trary to  hope  and  expectation  comes  more  gratefully 
and  with  greater  pleasure  to  men's  minds ;  but  this  can- 
not be  the  case  with  things  effected  by  our  own  care 
and  exertion. 

SOPHISM. 

12.  That  which  consists  of  many  divisible  parts  is 
greater  than  that  which  consists  of  few  parts  and  is  more 
one ;  for  all  things  when  viewed  part  by  part  appear 
greater  ;  whence  likewise  plurality  of  parts  makes  a  show 
of  magnitude  ;  but  it  has  a  greater  effect  if  the  parts  be 
without  order  ;  for  it  produces  a  resemblance  to  infinity 
and  prevents  comprehension. 

The  fallacy  here  is  very  palpable,  even  at  first  sight ; 
for  it  is  not  the  plurality  of  parts  alone,  but  the  major- 
ity of  them,  which  make  the  total  greater.  But  yet 
this  Sophism  often  carries  away  the  imagination ;  yea, 
and  deceives  the  sense.  For  to  the  sight  it  appears  a 
shorter  distance  on  a  dead  level,  where  nothing  inter- 
venes to  break  the  view,  than  when  there  are  trees 
and  buildings  or  some  other  mark  to  divide  and  meas- 
ure the  space.  So  again  when  a  great  monied  man 
has  divided  and  distributed  his  chests  and  bags,  he 
seems  to  himself  richer  than  he  was.  So  likewise  in 
amplifications,  the  effect  is  increased  if  the  whole  be 
divided  into  many  parts  and  each  be  handled  separate- 
ly. And  if  this  be  done  without  order  and  promiscu- 
ously, it  fills  the  imagination  still  more  ;  for  confusion 
gives  an  impression  of  multitude ;  inasmuch  as  things 
aot  forth  and  laid  out  in  order,  both  appear  more  lira- 

1  Plutarch  in  Timol.  c.  3tt. 


THE   SIXTH   BOOK.  153 

ited  in  themselves,  and  make  it  evident  that  nothing 
has  been  omitted ;  whereas  things  that  are  presented 
confusedly,  are  not  only  thought  to  be  numerous  in 
themselves,  but  leave  room  for  suspicion  that  there  are 
many  more  behind. 

ANSWER. 

This  Sophism  deceives,  first  when  a  man  is  prepos- 
sessed with  an  opinion  that  a  thing  is  greater  than  it 
really  is.  For  then  the  distribution  thereof  will  de- 
stroy that  false  opinion,  and  show  it  in  its  true  dimen- 
sions, without  amplification.  And  therefore  if  a  man 
be  in  sickness  or  pain,  the  hours  will  seem  longer  with- 
out a  clock  or  an  hour-glass  than  with  it.  For  if  the 
weariness  and  pain  of  disease  make  time  appear  longer 
than  it  really  is,  then  the  computation  of  time  corrects 
the  error,  and  makes  it  appear  shorter  than  had  been 
conceived  by  the  false  opinion.  So  again  in  a  dead 
plain,  the  contrary  to  that  which  I  said  just  now  some- 
times happens.  For  though  at  first  the  eye  represents 
the  distance  to  the  sense  as  shorter,  because  it  is  undi- 
vided ;  yet  if  that  give  an  impression  of  a  much  shorter 
distance  than  it  is  afterwards  found  to  be,  the  disappoint- 
ment of  that  false  opinion  will  make  it  appear  longer 
than  it  really  is.  Therefore  if  a  man  have  an  over 
great  opinion  of  anything  and  you  wish  to  make  it  still 
greater,  you  must  beware  of  distributions,  but  extol  it 
in  the  whole.  The  Sophism  deceives  secondly,  when 
the  distribution  is  distracted  and  scattered,  and  does 
not  meet  or  strike  the  eye  at  one  glance.  Thus  if 
flowers  in  a  garden  be  divided  into  many  beds,  they 
will  give  the  appearance  of  a  greater  number  than  if 
they  were  all  growing  in  one  bed,  provided  that  all  the 


154          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

beds  can  be  seen  at  once  ;  for  otherwise  the  union  will 
have  more  effect  than  the  scattered  distribution.  So 
again  men's  revenues  seem  greater  when  their  farms 
and  properties  lie  near  and  contiguous  ;  for  if  they  lie 
scattered  they  do  not  so  easily  come  under  view.  The 
Sophism  deceives  thirdly,  by  reason  of  the  superiority 
of  unity  to  multitude.  For  all  piecing  together  of 
things  is  a  sure  sign  of  poverty  in  the  pieces ;  where 
it  comes  to  that, 

Et  qua?  non  prosunt  singula,  multa  juvanti 

Therefore  Mary's  was  the  better  part,  — "  Martha, 
Martha,  thou  art  busy  about  many  things,  one  thing 
sufficeth."  2  Hence  the  fable  in  ^Esop  of  the  fox  and 
the  cat.  For  the  fox  boasted  how  many  tricks  and 
shifts  he  had  to  escape  the  hounds ;  but  the  cat  said  she 
had  only  one  help  to  rely  on ;  which  was  the  poor 
faculty  of  climbing  a  tree ;  yet  this  was  a  far  better 
protection  than  all  the  fox's  tricks ;  whence  the  prov- 
erb, "  The  fox  knows  many  tricks,  but  the  cat  one 
good  one." 3  And  in  the  moral  signification  of  this 
fable  we  see  the  same  thing.  For  the  support  of  a 
powerful  and  faithful  friend  is  a  surer  protection  than 
all  manner  of  plots  and  tricks. 

These  then  shall  suffice  for  an  example.  I  have  by 
me  indeed  a  great  many  more  Sophisms  of  the  same 
kind,  which  I  collected  in  my  youth ;  but  without  their 
illustrations  and  answers,  which  I  have  not  now  the 
leisure  to  perfect ;  and  to  set  forth  the  naked  colours 
without  their  illustrations  (especially  as  those  above 
given  appear  in  full  dress)  does  not  seem  suitable.  Be 

1  Ovid.  Rem.  Amor.  420. :  —  Things  of  no  good  separate,  are  useful  to- 
gether. 

2  St.  Luke,  x.  41,  42.  8  Cf.  Erasmus,  Adag.  i.  5.  18. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  155 

it  observed  in  the  meantime  that  this  matter,  whatever 
may  be  thought  of  it,  seems  to  me  of  no  small  value ; 
as  that  which  participates  of  Primary  Philosophy,  of 
Politics,  and  of  Rhetoric.  And  so  much  for  the  Pop- 
ular Signs  or  Colours  of  Apparent  Good  and  Evil,  both 
simple  and  comparative. 

The  second  Collection,  which  belongs  to  the  Prompt- 
\iary  or  Preparatory  Store,  is  that  to  which  Cicero 
alludes  (as  I  said  above  in  treating  of  Logic),  where 
he  recommends  the  orator  to  have  commonplaces  ready 
at  hand,  in  which  the  question  is  argued  and  handled 
on  either  side :  such  as  "  for  the  letter  of  the  law," 
"  for  the  intention  of  the  law,"  &c.  But  I  extend  this 
precept  to  other  cases ;  applying  it  not  only  to  the 
judicial  kind  of  oratory,  but  also  to  the  deliberative 
and  demonstrative.  I  would  have  in  short  all  topics 
which  there  is  frequent  occasion  to  handle  (whether 
they  relate  to  proofs  and  refutations,  or  to  persuasions 
and  dissuasions,  or  to  praise  and  blame)  studied  and 
prepared  beforehand ;  and  not  only  so,  but  the  case 
exaggerated  both  ways  with  the  utmost  force  of  the 
wit,  and  urged  unfairly,  as  it  were,  and  quite  beyond 
the  truth.  And  the  best  way  of  making  such  a  collec- 
tion, with  a  view  to  use  as  well  as  brevity,  would  be  to 
contract  those  commonplaces  into  certain  acute  and 
concise  sentences ;  to  be  as  skeins  or  bottoms  of  thread 
which  may  be  unwinded  at  large  when  they  are 
wanted.  Some  such  piece  of  diligence  I  find  in 
Seneca,  but  in  hypotheses  or  cases.  A  few  instances 
of  the  thing,  having  a  great  many  by  me,  I  think  fit  tc 
propound  by  way  of  example.  I  call  them  Antitheses 
of  Things. 


156 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 


Examples  of  Antitheses. 


I.  NOBILITY. 
For. 

They  whose  virtue  is  in 
the  stock  cannot  be  bad 
even  if  they  would. 

Nobility  is  the  laurel 
with  which  Time  crowns 
men. 

We  reverence  antiquity 
even  in  dead  monuments ; 
how  much  more  in  living 
ones  ? 

If  you  regard  not  no- 
bility of  birth,  where  will 
be  the  difference  between 
the  offspring  of  men  and 
brutes  ? 

Nobility  withdraws  vir- 
tue from  envy,  and  makes 
it  gracious. 

n.  BEAUTY. 
For. 

Deformed  persons  com- 
monly take  revenge  on  na- 
ture. 

Virtue  is  nothing  but  in- 
ward beauty ;  beauty  noth- 
ing but  outward  virtue. 

Deformed  persons  seek 
to  rescue  themselves  from 
scorn  —  by  malice. 


Against. 

Seldom  comes  nobility 
from  virtue ;  seldomer  vir- 
tue from  nobility. 

Noblemen  have  to  thank 
their  ancestors  for  pardon 
oftener  than  for  advance- 
ment. 

New  men  are  commonly 
so  diligent,  that  noblemen 
by  their  side  look  like  stat- 
ues. 

Noblemen  look  behind 
them  too  often  in  the 
course  ;  the  mark  of  a  bad 
runner. 


Against. 

Virtue  is  like  a  rich 
stone,  best  plain  set. 

As  a  fair  garment  on  a 
deformed  body,  such  is 
beauty  in  a  bad  man. 

They  that  are  beautiful 
and  they  that  are  affected 
by  beauty  are  commonly 
alike  light. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


157 


Beauty    makes    virtues 
shine,  and  vices  blush. 


For. 

First  thoughts  and 
young  men's  counsels  have 
nr)re  of  divineness. 

Old  men  are  wiser  for 
themselves,  not  so  wise  for 
others  and  for  the  com- 
monwealth. 

Old  age,  if  it  could  be 
seen,  deforms  the  mind 
more  than  the  body. 

Old  men  are  afraid  of 
everything,  except  the 
Gods. 

IV.  HEALTH. 
For. 

The  care  of  health  humi- 
liates the  mind  and  makes 
it  the  beggar  of  the  body. 

A  healthy  body  is  the 
soul's  host,  a  sick  body  her 
gaoler. 

Nothing  forwards  the 
conclusion  of  business  so 
much  as  good  health  ;  weak 
health  on  the  contrary 
takes  too  many  holidays. 


HI.  YOUTH. 

Against. 

Youth  is  the  seedbed  of 
repentance. 

There  is  implanted  in 
youth  contempt  for  the 
authority  of  age  ;  so  every 
man  must  grow  wise  at  his 
own  cost. 

The  counsels  to  which 
Time  is  not  called,  Time 
will  not  ratify. 

In  old  men  the  Loves  are 
changed  into  the  Graces. 


Against. 

Often  to  recover  health, 
is  often  to  renew  youth. 

Ill  health  is  a  good  ex- 
cuse for  many  things ; 
which  we  are  glad  to  use 
even  when  well. 

Good  health  makes  toe 
close  an  alliance  between 
the  soul  and  the  body. 

Great  empires  have  been 
governed  from  bed,  great 
armies  commanded  from 
the  litter. 


158 


TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 


V.  WIFK  AND  CHILDREN. 


For. 

Love  of  his  country  be- 
gins in  a  man's  own  house. 

A  wife  and  children  are 
a  kind  of  discipline  of  hu- 
manity ;  whereas  unmar- 
ried men  are  harsh  and 
severe. 

To  be  without  wife  or 
children  is  good  for  a  man 
only  when  he  wants  to  run 
away. 

He  who  begets  not  chil- 
dren, sacrifices  to  death. 

They  that  are  fortunate 
in  other  things  are  com- 
monly unfortunate  in  their 
children ;  lest  men  should 
come  too  near  the  condi- 
tion of  Gods. 

VI.   RICHES. 
For. 

They  despise  riches  who 
despair  of  them. 

It  is  envy  of  riches  that 
has  made  virtue  a  god- 
dess. 

While  philosophers  are 
disputing  whether  virtue 
or  pleasure  be  the  proper 
aim  of  life,  do  you  provide 


Against. 

He  that  has  wife  and 
children  has  given  hostages 
to  fortune. 

Man  generates  and  lias 
children  ;  God  creates  and 
produces  works. 

The  eternity  of  brutes  is 
in  offspring ;  of  men,  in 
fame,  good  deserts,  and  in- 
stitutions. 

Domestic  considerations 
commonly  overthrow  pub- 
lic ones. 

Some  persons  have  wish- 
ed for  Priam's  fortune, 
who  survived  all  his  chil- 
dren. 


Against. 

Of  great  riches  you  may 
have  either  the  keeping,  or 
the  giving  away,  or  the 
fame  ;  but  no  use. 

Do  you  not  see  what 
feigned  prices  are  set  upon 
little  stones  and  such  rari- 
ties, only  that  there  may  be 
some  use  of  great  riches  ? 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK. 


yourself  with  the  instru- 
ments of  both. 

Virtue  is  turned  by 
riches  into  a  common  good. 

Other  goods  have  but  a 
provincial  command ;  only 
riches  have  a  general  one. 


Many  men  while  they 
thought  to  buy  everything 
with  their  riches,  have 
been  first  sold  themselves. 

I  cannot  call  riches  bet- 
ter than  the  baggage  of 
virtue  ;  for  they  are  both 
necessary  to  virtue  and 
cumbersome. 

Riches  are  a  good  hand- 
maid, but  the  worst  mis- 
tress. 


VII.  HONOUKS. 


For. 

Honours  are  the  suf- 
frages not  of  tyrants  (as 
they  are  said  to  be),  but 
of  divine  providence. 

Honours  make  both  vir- 
tues and  vices  conspicuous ; 
therefore  they  are  a  spur 
to  the  one  and  a  bridle  to 
the  other. 

No  man  can  tell  how  far 
his  virtue  will  go  unless 
honours  give  him  a  fair 
field. 

Virtue,  like  all  things 
else,  moves  violently  to  her 
place,  calmly  in  her  place  ; 
now  the  place  of  virtue  is 
honour. 


Against. 

While  we  seek  honours 
we  lose  liberty. 

Honours  commonly  give 
men  power  over  those 
things  wherein  the  best 
condition  is  not  to  will,  the 
next  best  not  to  can. 

The  rising  to  honours  is 
laborious,  the  standing  slip- 
pery, the  descent  headlong. 

Great  persons  had  need 
to  borrow  the  opinions  of 
the  vulgar,  to  think  them- 
selves happy. 


160 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 


VIZI.  EMPIRE. 


For. 

The  enjoyment  of  hap- 
piness is  a  great  good  ;  but 
the  power  of  imparting  it 
to  others  is  a  still  greater. 

Kings  are  not  as  men, 
but  as  the  stars ;  for  they 
have  great  influence  both 
on  individuals  and  on  the 
times  themselves. 

To  resist  the  vice-gerent 
of  God  is  not  treason,  but 
a  kind  of  theomachy. 

IX.  PRAISE, 
For. 

Praise  is  the  reflexion 
of  virtue. 

Praise  is  the  honour  that 
comes  by  free  votes. 

Honours  are  conferred 
by  many  forms  of  govern- 
ment ;  but  praise  comes 
everywhere  of  liberty. 

The  voice  of  the  people 
has  something  divine  ;  else 
how  could  so  many  agree 
in  one  thing  ? 

Marvel  not  if  the  vulgar 
speak  truer  than  the  great, 
for  they  speak  safer. 


Against. 

How  wretched  to  have 
nothing  to  desire,  and 
everything  to  fear ! 

Kings  are  like  the  heav- 
enly bodies,  which  have 
much  veneration  but  no 
rest. 

None  of  human  condi- 
tion is  admitted  to  the  ban- 
quets of  the  Gods  unless 
it  be  in  derision. 


REPUTATION. 

Against. 

Fame  is  a  worse  judge 
than  messenger. 

What  has  a  good  man 
to  do  with  the  slaver  of  the 
common  people  ? 

Fame  is  like  a  river,  it 
bears  up  the  light  and  lets 
the  solid  sink. 

The  lowest  virtues  are 
praised  by  the  common 
people,  the  middle  are  ad- 
mired ;  but  of  the  highest 
they  have  no  sense  or  per- 
ception. 

Praise  is  won  by  osten- 


THE  SIXTH    BOOK. 


161 


tation  more  than  by  merit, 
and  follows  the  vain  and 
windy  more  than  the  sound 
and  real. 


X.  NATURE. 


For. 

Custom  advances  in  an 
arithmetical  ratio,  nature 
in  a  geometrical. 

As  common  laws  are  to 
customs  in  states,  such  is 
nature  to  custom  in  indi- 
viduals. 

Custom  against  nature 
is  a  kind  of  tyranny,  and 
is  soon  and  upon  slight  oc- 
casions overthrown. 


Against. 

We  think  according  to 
our  nature,  speak  as  we 
have  been  taught,  but  act 
as  we  have  been  accus- 
tomed. 

Nature  is  a  schoolmas- 
ter, custom  a  magistrate. 


XI.  FORTUNE. 


For. 

Overt  and  apparent  vir- 
tues bring  forth  praise ; 
secret  and  hidden  virtues 
bring  forth  fortune. 

Virtues  of  duty  bring 
forth  praise ;  virtues  of 
ability  bring  forth  fortune. 

Fortune  is  like  the 
Milky  Way ;  a  cluster  of 
obscure  virtues  without  a 
name. 

Fortune  is  to  be   hon- 

VOL.  IX.  11 


Against. 

The  folly  of  one  man  is 
the  fortune  of  another. 

The  best  that  can  be 
said  of  fortune  is  that,  as 
she  uses  no  choice  in  her 
favours,  so  she  does  not 
care  to  uphold  them. 

Great  men,  to  decline 
the  envy  of  their  own  vir- 
tues, turn  worshippers  of 
fortune. 


162 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 


cured  if  it  be  but  for  her 
daughters,  Confidence  and 
Authority. 

XII. 

For. 

It  is  absurd  to  prefer 
the  accidents  of  life  to  life 
itself. 

A  long  course  is  better 
than  a  short  one  for  every- 
thing, even  for  virtue. 

Without  a  good  space 
of  life  a  man  can  neither 
finish,  nor  learn,  nor  re- 
pent. 


LIFE. 

Against. 

Philosophers  in  making 
such  preparations  against 
death  make  death  itself 
appear  more  fearful. 

Men  fear  death,  as  chil- 
dren fear  to  go  into  the 
dark,  because  they  know 
not  what  is  there. 

There  is  no  human  pas- 
sion so  weak  but  if  it  be  a 
little  roused  it  masters  the 
fear  of  death. 

A  man  might  wish  to 
die,  though  he  were  nei- 
ther brave  nor  miserable 
nor  wise,  merely  from 
weariness  of  being  alive. 


XIII.  SUPERSTITION. 


For. 

They  that  err  from  zeal, 
though  we  cannot  approve 
them,  yet  we  must  love 
them. 

Mediocrities  belong  to 
matters  moral ;  extremities 
to  matters  divine. 


Against. 

As  the  likeness  of  an 
ape  to  a  man  makes  him 
all  the  more  ugly,  so  does 
the  likeness  of  superstition 
to  religion. 

Look  how  hateful  affec- 
tation is  in  human  affairs, 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


163 


The   religious    man   is 
called  superstitious. 

I  had  rather  believe  the 
most  monstrous  fables  that 
are  to  be  found  in  any 
religion,  than  that  this 
world  was  made  without  a 
deity. 


XIV. 

For. 

Pride  is  unsociable  to 
vices  among  other  things  ; 
and  as  poison  by  poison, 
so  not  a  few  vices  are  ex- 
pelled by  pride. 

The  good-natured  man 
is  subject  to  other  men's 
vices  as  well  as  his  own  ; 
the  proud  man  to  his  own 
only. 

Let  pride  go  a  step 
higher,  and  from  contempt 
of  others  rise  to  contempt 
of  self,  and  it  becomes 
philosophy. 


so  hateful  is  superstition  in 
divine. 

Better  have  no  opinion 
of  God  at  all  than  an  in- 
jurious one. 

It  was  not  the  Epicu- 
reans but  the  Stoics  that 
troubled  the  ancient  states. 

There  is  no  such  thing 
as  a  mere  atheist  in  opin- 
ion ;  but  great  hypocrites 
are  the  true  atheists,  who 
are  ever  handling  holy 
things  without  reverenc- 
ing them. 

PRIDE. 

Against. 

Pride  is  the  ivy  that 
winds  about  all  virtues 
and  all  good  things. 

Other  vices  do  but 
thwart  virtues  ;  only  pride 
infects  them. 

Pride  lacks  the  best 
condition  of  vice  —  con- 
cealment. 

The  proud  man  while 
he  despises  others  neglects 
himself. 


164 


TRANSLATION   OF   THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 


XV.  INGRATITUDE. 


For. 

The  crime  of  ingrati- 
tude is  nothing  more  than 
a  clear  insight  into  the 
cause  of  a  benefit  confer- 
red. 

In  our  desire  to  show 
gratitude  to  certain  per- 
sons we  sacrifice  both  the 
justice  we  owe  to  others 
and  the  liberty  we  owe  to 
ourselves. 

Before  we  are  called  on 
to  be  grateful  for  a  benefit, 
let  us  be  sure  as  to  the 
value  of  it. 

XVI. 

For. 

It  is  natural  for  a  man 
to  hate  that  which  re- 
proaches to  him  his  own 
fortunes. 

Envy  in  commonwealths 
is  a  wholesome  kind  of  os- 


Against. 

The  crime  of  ingrati- 
tude is  not  restrained  by 
punishments,  but  given 
over  to  the  Furies. 

The  bonds  of  benefits 
are  stricter  than  the  bonds 
of  duties ;  wherefore  he 
that  is  ungrateful  is  un- 
just and  every  way  bad. 

This  is  the  condition  of 
.humanity  :  no  man  is  born 
in  so  public  a  fortune  but 
he  must  obey  the  private 
calls  both  of  gratitude  and 
revenge. 

ENVY. 

Against. 

Envy  keeps  no  holidays. 
Nothing  but  death  can 
reconcile  envy  to  virtue. 

Envy  puts  virtues  to  la- 
borious tasks,  as  Juno  did 
Hercules. 


tracism. 


XVII.  UNCHASTITY. 


For. 

It  is  owing  to  jealousy 
that  chastity  has  been 
made  a  virtue. 

A   man   must   be  of  a 


Against. 

Unchastity  was  the 
worst  of  Circe's  trans- 
formations. 

He   that  is  unchaste  is 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


165 


very  sad  disposition  to  think 
love  a  serious  matter. 

Why  make  a  virtue  of 
that  which  is  either  a  mat- 
ter of  diet,  or  a  show  of 
cleanliness,  or  the  child  of 
pride? 

Loves  are  like  wildfowl; 
there  is  no  property  in 
them,  but  the  right  passes 
with  the  possession. 


without  all  reverence  for 
himself,  which  is  the  bridle 
of  all  vices. 

All  who  like  Paris  pre- 
fer beauty,  quit  like  Paris 
wisdom  and  power. 

It  was  no  vulgar  truth 
that  Alexander  lighted  on, 
when  he  said  that  sleep 
and  lust  were  earnests  of 
death. 


XVIII.  CRUELTY. 
For. 

None  of  the  virtues  has 
so  many  crimes  to  answer 
for  as  clemency. 

Cruelty,  if  it  proceeds 
from  revenge,  is  justice,  if 
from  danger,  prudence. 

He  that  has  mercy  on 
his  enemy  has  no  mercy 
on  himself. 

Bloodlettings  are  not 
oftener  necessary  in  med- 
icine than  executions  in 
states. 

XIX.  VAIN-GLORY. 
For. 

He  that  would  procure 
praise  for  himself  must 
procure  the  benefit  of 
other  men. 


Against. 

To  delight  in  blood,  one 
must  be  either  a  wild  beast 
or  a  Fury. 

To  a  good  man  cruelty 
always  seems  fabulous,  and 
some  tragical  fiction. 


Against. 

Vain  -  glorious  persons 
are  ever  factious,  liars,  in- 
constant, extreme. 

Thraso  is  Gnatho's  prey. 


166 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


He  who  is  so  sober  that  It  is  a  shame  for  the 
he  cares  for  nothing  that  suitor  td  woo  the  waiting- 
is  not  his  own  business,  I  woman,  and  praise  is  the 
fear  he  thinks  the  good  of  waiting-woman  to  virtue, 
the  public  to  be  no  busi- 
ness of  his. 

Dispositions  that  have 
in  them  some  vanity  are 
readier  to  undertake  the 
care  of  the  commonwealth. 

XX.  JUSTICE. 


For. 

Kingdoms  and  govern- 
ments are  but  accessories 
to  justice ;  for  there  would 
be  no  need  of  them  if  jus- 
tice could  be  carried  on 
without. 

It  is  owing  to  justice 
that  man  is  a  god  to  man, 
and  not  a  wolf. 

Justice  though  it  cannot 
extirpate  vices,  yet  pre- 
vents them  from  doing 
hurt. 


Against. 

If  to  be  just  be  not  to 
do  that  to  another  which 
you  would  not  have  an- 
other do  to  you,  then  is 
mercy  justice. 

If  everyone  has  a  right 
to  his  own,  surely  human- 
ity has  a  right  to  pardon. 

What  tell  you  me  of 
equal  measure,  when  to 
the  wise  man  all  things 
are  equal? 

Consider  the  condition 
of  accused  persons  among 
the  Romans,  and  conclude 
that  justice  is  not  for  the 
good  of  the  common- 
wealth. 

The  ordinary  justice  of 
governments  is  but  as  a 


THE  SIXTH   BOOK. 


167 


philosopher  in  the  court 
—  it  merely  conduces  to 
the  reverence  of  those  who 
govern. 


XXI.  FORTITUDE. 


For. 

Nothing  is  to  be  feared 
except  fear  itself. 

There  is  nothing  either 
solid  in  pleasure,  or  secure 
in  virtue,  where  fear  in- 
trudes. 

He  that  looks  steadily  at 
dangers  that  he  may  meet 
them,  sees  also  how  he  may 
avoid  them. 

Other  virtues  free  us 
from  the  domination  of 
vice,  fortitude  only  from 
the  domination  of  fortune. 


Against. 

A  noble  virtue,  to  be 
willing  to  die  yourself  in 
order  to  kill  another ! 

A  noble  virtue,  which  a 
man  may  acquire  by  get- 
ting drunk! 

He  that  is  prodigal  of 
his  own  life  is  dangerous 
to  other  men's. 

Fortitude  is  the  virtue 
of  the  iron  age. 


XXII.  TEMPERANCE. 


For. 

The  power  of  abstinence 
is  not  much  other  than  the 
power  of  endurance. 

Uniformity,  concord,  and 
measured  motion,  are  attri- 
butes of  heaven  and.  char- 
acters of  eternity. 

Temperance  is  like 
wholesome  cold  :  it  col- 


Against. 

I  like  not  these  nega- 
tive virtues ;  for  they  show 
innocence  and  not  merit. 

The  mind  grows  languid 
that  has  no  excesses. 

I  like  those  virtues 
which  induce  excellence 
of  action,  not  dullness  of 
passion. 


168 


TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


lects  and  braces  the  pow- 
ers of  the  mind. 

Exquisite  and  restless 
senses  need  narcotics ;  so 
do  passions. 


If  you  will  have  the 
motions  of  the  mind  ah1 
consonant,  you  must  have 
them  few — for  it  is  a  poor 
man  that  can  count  his 
stock. 

To  abstain  from  the  use 
of  a  thing  that  you  may 
not  feel  the  want  of  it,  to 
shun  the  want  that  you 
may  not  fear  the  loss  of  it, 
are  precautions  of  pusilla- 
nimity and  cowardice. 


XXIII.  CONSTANCY. 


For. 

Constancy  is  the  foun- 
dation on  which  virtues 
rest. 

Wretched  is  the  man 
who  knows  not  what  him- 
self may  become. 

Human  judgment  is  too 
weak  to  be  true  to  the  na- 
ture of  things,  let  it  then 
at  least  be  true  to  itself. 

Even  vices  derive  a 
grace  from  constancy. 

If  inconstancy  of  mind 
be  added  to  the  incon- 
stancy of  fortune,  in  what 
darkness  do  we  live? 

Fortune  is  like  Proteus ; 


Against 

Constancy  is  like  a  surly 
porter ;  it  drives  much  use- 
ful intelligence  from  the 
door. 

It  is  fit  that  constancy 
should  bear  adversity  well, 
for  it  commonly  brings  it 
on. 

The  shortest  folly  is  the 
best. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


169 


if  you  persevere   she  re- 
turns to  her  shape. 


For. 

If  the  mind  do  but 
choose  generous  ends  to 
aim  at,  it  shall  have  not 
only  the  virtues  but  the 
deities  to  help. 

Virtues  induced  by  hab- 
it or  by  precepts  are  ordi- 
nary ;  those  imposed  by  a 
virtuous  end  are  heroical. 

XXV.  KNOWLEDGE, 
For. 

That  pleasure  is  indeed 
according  to  nature,  of 
which  there  is  no  satiety. 

What  prospect  so  sweet 
as  to  look  down  upon  the 
errors  of  other  men  ? 

How  good  a  thing  to 
have  the  motion  of  the 
mind  concentric  with  the 
universe ! 

All  depraved  affections 
are  but  false  estimations ; 
and  goodness  and  truth 
are  the  same  thing. 


XXIV.  MAGNANIMITY. 

Against. 

Magnanimity  is  a  poeti- 
cal virtue. 


CONTEMPLATION. 
Against. 

Contemplation  is  a  spe- 
cious idleness. 

Good  thoughts  are  little 
better  than  good  dreams. 

Providence  takes  care 
of  the  world  ;  do  thou 
take  care  of  thy  country. 

A  politic  man  uses  his 
very  thoughts  for  seed. 


170 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


XXVI.  LEARNING. 


For. 

If  books  were  written 
about  small  matters,  there 
would  be  scarce  any  use 
of  experience. 

In  reading  a  man  con- 
verses with  the  wise,  in 
action  generally  with  fools. 

Sciences  which  are  of 
no  use  in  themselves  are 
not  to  be  deemed  useless, 
if  they  sharpen  the  wit 
and  put  the  thoughts  in 
order. 


Against. 


In  colleges  men  learn 
to  believe. 

What  art  ever  taught 
the  seasonable  use  of  art  ? 

To  be  wise  by  rule  and 
to  be  wise  by  experience 
are  contrary  proceedings ; 
he  that  accustoms  himself 
to  the  one  unfits  himself 
for  the  other. 
,  Art  is  often  put  to  a 
foolish  use,  that  it  may 
not  be  of  no  use  at  all. 

Almost  all  scholars  have 
this  —  when  anything  is 
presented  to  them,  they 
will  find  in  it  that  which 
they  know,  not  learn  from 
it  that  which  they  know 
not. 


XXVII.  PROMPTITUDE. 


For. 

Wisdom  that  comes  not 
quick  comes  not  in  season. 

He  that  quickly  errs 
quickly  amends  his  error. 

He  that  is  wise  in  de- 
liberation and  not  upon 
the  moment  does  no  great 
matters. 


Against. 

The  wisdom  that  is 
ready  at  hand  does  not 
lie  deep. 

Wisdom  is  like  a  gar- 
ment, it  must  be  light  if 
it  be  for  speed. 

He  whose  counsels  are 
not  ripened  by  delibera- 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


171 


XXVIII.  SILENCE  m 
For. 

The  silent  man  hears 
everything,  for  everything 
can  be  safely  communi- 
cated. 

He  that  is  apt  to  tell 
what  he  knows,  is  apt  to 
tell  also  what  he  knows 
not. 

Mysteries  are  due  to  se- 
crecy. 


tion,  his  wisdom  will  not 
ripen  with  age. 

Things  speedily  devised 
speedily  fall  out  of  favour. 

MATTERS   OF    SECRECY. 

Against. 

The  best  way  of  keep- 
ing the  mind  secret  is  to 
vary  the  manners. 

Silence  is  the  virtue  of 
a  confessor. 

The  silent  man  has 
nothing  told  him,  because 
he  gives  nothing  but  si- 
lence in  exchange. 

To  be  close  is  next  to 
being  unknown. 


For. 

I  love  the  man  who 
yields  to  others'  feelings, 
and  yet  keeps  his  judg- 
ment free. 

To  be  pliant  is  to  be 
most  like  gold. 


XXIX.  FACILITY. 

Against. 

Facility  is  a  foolish  pri- 
vation of  judgment. 

Favours  received  from 
a  man  of  facile  disposition 
pass  for  debts  ;  denials  for 
injuries. 

He  that  obtains  a  favour 
from  a  man  of  facile  dis- 
position thanks  himself  for 
it. 

The  facile  man  is  op- 
pressed with  all  difficul- 


172         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ties,  for  he  involves  him 
self  in  all. 

The  facile  man  seldom 
gets  out  of  it  without  a 
blush. 


XXX.  POPULARITY. 


For. 

Wise  men  are  common- 
ly pleased  with  the  same 
things ;  but  to  meet  the 
various  inclinations  of  fools 
is  the  part  of  wisdom. 

To  court  the  people  is 
to  be  courted  by  the  peo- 
ple. 

Men  that  are  themselves 
great  find  no  single  person 
to  respect,  but  only  the 
people. 

XXXI.  LOQUACITY. 


Against. 

He  who  agrees  very 
well  with  fools  may  him- 
self be  suspected. 

He  that  pleases  the  mob 
is  apt  to  raise  a  mob. 

Nothing  that  is  moder- 

O 

ate  is  liked   by  the  com- 
mon people. 

The  lowest  of  all  flat- 
teries is  the  flattery  of  the 
common  people. 


For. 

He  that  is  silent  betrays 
want  of  confidence  either 
in  others  or  in  himself. 

All  kinds  of  constraint 
are  unhappy,  that  of  si- 
lence is  the  most  miserable 
of  all. 

Silence  is  the  virtue  of  a 
fool.  And  therefore  it  was 
well  said  to  a  man  that 
would  not  speak,  "  If  you 


Against. 

Silence  gives  to  words 
both  grace  and  authority. 

Silence  is  the  sleep 
which  nourishes  wisdom. 

Silence  is  the  fermenta- 
tion of  thought. 

O 

Silence  is  the  style  of 
wisdom. 

Silence  aspires  after 
truth. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


173 


are  wise  you  are  a  fool ; 
if  you  are  a  fool,  you  are 
wise." 

Silence,  like  night,  is 
convenient  for  treacheries. 

Thoughts  are  whole- 
somest  when  they  are  like 
running  waters. 

Silence  is  a  kind  of  soli- 
tude. 

He  that  is  silent  lays 
himself  out  for  opinion. 

Silence  neither  casts  off 
bad  thoughts  nor  distrib- 
utes good. 


XXXII.  DISSIMULATION. 


For. 

Dissimulation  is  a  com- 
pendious wisdom. 

We  are  not  bound  to 
say  the  same  thing,  but  to 
aim  at  the  same  end.1 

Nakedness  is  uncomely 
in  the  mind  as  well  as  in 
the  body. 

Dissimulation  is  both  a 
grace  and  a  guard. 

Dissimulation  is  the 
fence  of  counsels. 


Against. 

If  we  cannot  think  ac- 
cording to  the  truth  of 
things,  let  us  at  least  speak 
according  as  we  think. 

When  arts  of  policy  are 
beyond  a  man's  capacity, 
dissimulation  must  serve 
him  for  wisdom. 

He  that  dissembles  de- 
prives himself  of  a  princi- 
pal instrument  of  action, 
namely  trust  and  belief. 


1  Non  idem  dicere,  sed  idem  speciare,  debemus :  a  sentence  in  which  I 
suspect  that  there  is  either  some  misprint  or  some  inaccuracy  of  expres- 
lion.  —  J.  S. 


174         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


There  are  some  for 
whom  it  is  good  to  be  de- 
ceived. 

He  that  does  everything 
without  dissimulation  is 
not  the  less  a  deceiver ;  for 
most  people  either  do  not 
understand  him  or  do  not 
believe  him. 

Want  of  dissimulation  is 
nothing  but  want  of  power 
over  the  mind. 


Dissimulation  invites  dis« 
simulation. 

He  that  dissembles  is 
not  free. 


xxxm. 

For. 

He  that  shows  diffidence 
invites  reproof. 

What  action  is  to  an 
orator  boldness  is  to  a  pol- 
itician, —  the  first  requi- 
site, the  second,  and  the 
third. 

I  love  a  confessing  mod- 
esty, hate  an  accusing 
one.1 

Confidence  of  manners 
brings  minds  the  sooner 
together. 

I  like  a  reserved  coun- 
tenance and  an  open 
speech. 

1  Amo  confitentem  verecundiam,  accutantem  odi.    I  do  not  understand 
this  sentence.  —  J.  8. 


BOLDNESS. 

Against. 

Boldness  is  the  pioneer 
of  folly. 

Impudence  is  of  no  use 
except  for  imposture. 

Confidence  is  the  mis- 
tress of  fools,  and  the  sport 
of  wise  men. 

Boldness  is  dullness  of 
the  sense  joined  with  mal- 
ice of  the  will. 


THE   SIXTH  BOOK. 


175 


PUNTOS,  AFFECTATION. 
Against.  ' 

What  more  uncomely 
than  to  make  life  a  piece 
of  acting  ? 

From  ingenuousness 
comes  grace,  from  artifice 
hatred. 

Better  painted  cheeks 
and  curled  hair  than  paint- 
ed and  curled  manners. 

He  that  applies  his  mind 
to  such  small  observations, 
is  not  capable  of  great 
thoughts. 

Affectation  is  the  shin- 
ing putrefaction  of  ingen- 
uousness. 


XXXIV.  CEREMONIES, 
For. 

A  decorous  government 
of  the  countenance  and 
carriage  is  the  true  season- 
ing of  virtue. 

We  comply  with  the  vul- 
gar in  our  words,  why  not 
in  habit  and  gesture  ? 

He  that  does  not  pre- 
serve decorum  in  trifles 
and  daily  habits  may  be  a 
great  man  ;  but  be  sure  of 
this,  —  such  a  man  is  not 
wise  at  all  hours. 

Virtue  and  wisdom  with- 
out forms  are  like  foreign 
languages ;  for  they  are 
not  intelligible  to  the  com- 
mon people. 

He  that  knows  not  the 
sense  of  the  common  peo- 
ple by  an  inward  congruity, 
if  he  know  it  not  by  out- 
ward observation  either,  is 
of  all  men  the  most  foolish. 

Forms  of  behaviour  are 
the  translation  of  virtue 
into  the  vernacular. 

XXXV.  JESTS. 

For.  Against. 

A  jest  is  the  orator's  al-         Who   does  not   despise 
tar.  these    hunters    after    de- 


176 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


He  that  throws  into 
everything  a  dash  of  mod- 
est pleasantry  keeps  his 
mind  the  more  at  liberty. 

To  pass  easily  from  jest 
to  earnest  and  from  earnest 
to  jest  is  a  thing  more  pol- 
itic than  men  suppose. 

A  jest  is  many  times  the 
vehicle  of  a  truth  which 
would  not  otherwise  have 
been  brought  in. 


XXXVI. 

For. 

See  you  not  that  all  men 
seek  themselves  ?  But  it 
is  only  the  lover  that  finds 
himself. 

There  is  nothing  which 
better  regulates  the  mind 
than  the  authority  of  some 
powerful  passion. 

If  you  are  wise,  seek 
something  to  desire  ;  for  to 
him  who  has  not  some  spe- 
cial object  of  pursuit  all 
things  are  distasteful  and 
wearisome. 

Why  should  not  one  be 
content  with  one  ? 


formities  and  prettiness- 
es  ? 

It  is  a  dishonest  trick  to 
wash  away  with  a  jest  the 
real  importance  of  things. 

Consider  jests  when  the 
laugh  is  over. 

These  wits  hardly  pene- 
trate below  the  surface  of 
things,  where  jests  ever  lie. 

Where  a  jest  has  any 
weight  in  serious  matters, 
it  is  a  childish  levity. 

LOVE. 

Against. 

The  stage  is  much  be- 
holden to  love,  life  not  at 
all. 

Nothing  has  so  many 
names  as  love ;  for  it  is  a 
thing  either  so  foolish  that 
it  does  not  know  itself,  or 
so  foul  that  it  hides  itself 
with  paint. 

I  hate  those  men  of  one 
thought. 

Love  is  a  very  narrow 
contemplation. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


177 


XXXVII.   FRIENDSHIP. 


For. 

Friendship  does  the 
same  things  as  fortitude, 
but  more  sweetly. 

Friendship  is  a  sweet 
seasoning  to  all  other  bless- 
ings. 

It  is  the  worst  solitude, 
to  have  no  true  friendships. 

It  is  a  retribution  wor- 
thy of  bad  faith  to  be  de- 
prived of  friendships. 

XXXVIIL 
For. 

Flattery  proceeds  more 
from  manners  than  malice. 
To  suggest  what  a  man 
should  be  under  colour  of 
praising  what  he  is,  was 
ever  a  form  due  in  civility 
to  the  great. 


Against. 

He  that  contracts  close 
friendships  .  imposes  upon 
himself  new  necessities. 

It  is  the  part  of  a  weak 
mind  to  go  shares  in  for- 
tune. 


FLATTERY. 

Against. 

Flattery  is  the  style  of 
slaves. 

Flattery  is  the  refuse  of 
vices. 

The  flatterer  is  like  the 
fowler  that  deceives  birds 
by  imitating  their  cry. 

The  unseemliness  of 
flattery  is  matter  of  come- 
dy, its  mischief  of  tragedy. 

Nothing  so  hard  to  cure 
as  the  ear. 


For. 

Revenge  is    a  kind 
wild  justice. 

VOL.  IX. 


XXXIX.  REVENGE. 

Against.. 

of         He   that   did   the    first 
wrong  made  a  beginning 


12 


178 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


He  who  requites  vio- 
lence with  violence,  sins 
against  the  law  but  not 
against  the  man. 

The  fear  of  private  re- 
venge is  a  useful  thing ; 
for  laws  too  often  sleep. 


of  mischief,  he  that  re- 
turned it  made  no  end. 

The  more  natural  re- 
venge is,  the  more  need  to 
restrain  it. 

He  that  is  ready  to  re- 
turn an  injury  was  behind- 
hand more  in  time  perhaps 
than  in  will. 


XL.  INNOVATION. 


For. 

Every  medicine  is  an 
innovation. 

He  that  will  not  have 
new'  remedies  will  have 
new  evils. 

Time  is  the  greatest  in- 
novator, why  then  should 
we  not  imitate  time  ? 

Ancient  precedents  are 
unfit,  modern  ones  corrupt 
and  interested. 

Leave  it  to  the  unskil- 
ful and  the  contentious  to 
act  by  precedent. 

As  those  who  first  bring 
honour  into  their  family 
are  commonly  worthier 
than  their  descendants,  so 
are  the  first  precedents 
commonly  better  than  the 
imitations  of  them. 


Against. 

,    Things   new  born    are 
ill-shapen. 

The  only  author  I  like 
is  time. 

There  is  no  novelty 
that  does  not  some  hurt, 
for  it  unsettles  what  is. 

Things  settled  by  cus- 
tom, though  they  be  not 
good,  yet  at  least  they  fit 
one  with  another. 

What  innovator  imitates 
time,  who  so  insinuates  his 
innovations  that  they  are 
not  perceived  ? 

That  which  comes  uii- 
looked  for  gets  the  less 
thanks  from  him  whom  it 
helps,  and  gives  the  more 
annoyance  to  him  whom 
it  hurts. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  179 

A  froward  retention  of 
custom  is  as  turbulent  a 
thing  as  an  innovation. 

Seeing  that  things  alter 
of  themselves  to  the  worse, 
if  counsel  shall  not  alter 
them  to  the  better,  what 
shall  be  the  end? 

The  slaves  of  custom 
are  the  sport  of  time. 

XLI.  DELAY. 

For.  Against. 

Fortune      sells      many         Opportunity  offers   the 

things  to  him   that   is  in  handle  of  the  bottle  first, 

a  hurry,  which  she  gives  and  afterwards  the  belly, 
to  him  that  waits.  Opportunity  is  like  the 

While  we  hasten  to  take  Sibyl ;  she  raises  the  price 

hold  of  the  beginnings  of  as  she  diminishes  the  of- 

things,  we  grasp  shadows,  fer. 

While  things  are  wa-  Speed  is  Pluto's  helmet, 
vering,  watch  ;  when  they  Things  that  are  done 

have  taken  their  direction,  betimes     are     done    with 

act.  judgment ;  things  that  are 

Commit  the  beginnings  put   off  too   late,  by  cir- 

of  actions  to  Argus,   the  cuit.1 
end  to  Briareus. 

XLII.  PREPAKATION. 

For.  Against. 

He  that  attempts  a  great         The  time  to  cease  pre- 

1  Per  ambitum  :  meaning,  I  suppose  (if  the  reading  be  correct),  that  at 
first  you  can  choose  the  best  way,  but  at  last  3rou  must  take  the  way  that 
Dffers.  —  J.  S. 


180 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS.' 


matter  with  small  means, 
does  but  provide  himself 
with  an  occasion  of  hop- 
ing. 

With  small  preparations 
you  may  purchase  wisdom, 
but  not  fortune. 


XLin.  MEETING 
For. 

More  dangers  have  de- 
ceived men  than  forced 
them. 

It  is  less  trouble  to  ap- 
ply the  remedy  to  a  dan- 
ger than  to  keep  watch 
upon  the  approach  of  it. 

A  danger  is  no  more 
light,  if  it  once  seem  light. 


paring  is  the  instant  you 
can  begin  acting. 

Let  no  man  hope  that 
he  can  bind  fortune  by 
preparation. 

To  interchange  prepa- 
ration and  action  is  politic, 
to  part  them  is  vain  and 
unfortunate. 

Great  preparation  wastes 
both  time  and  matter. 

THE  FIRST  MOVE. 
Against. 

He  that  arms  himself  to 
meet  danger  teaches  it  to 
come  on,  and  in  remedy- 
ing fixes  it. 

The  very  remedies  of 
dangers  carry  little  dan- 
gers in  them. 

It  is  better  to  have  to 
deal  with  a  few  dangers  in 
their  maturity,  than  with 
the  menaces  of  every  one. 


XLIV.  VIOLENT  COUNSELS. 


For. 
For  those  who  embrace 


Against. 

Every  violent  remedy  is 
this  mild  kind  of  wisdom  pregnant  with  some  new 
an  increase  of  the  evil  is  evil. 

salutary.  The  only  violent  coun- 

Necessity,  which  gives     sellors  are  anger  and  fear. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 


181 


violent  counsels,  also  exe- 
cutes them. 


XLV.  SUSPICION. 

Against. 

Suspicion  discharges 
faith. 

The  distemper  of  sus- 
picions is  a  kind  of  civil 
madness. 


For. 

Distrust  is  the  sinews 
of  wisdom,  but  suspicion 
is  a  medicine  for  the  joints. 

His  faith  is  justly  sus- 
pected whose  faith  sus- 
picion shakes. 

Suspicion  loosens  a  frail 
faith,  but  braces  a  strong 
one. 

XL VI.  THE  WORDS  OF  THE  LAW. 


For. 

The  interpretation  which 
departs  from  the  letter  is 
not  interpretation  but  div- 
ination. 

When  the  letter  is  de- 
parted from,  the  judge  be- 
comes the  law-giver. 

XLVII.  FOR  WITNESSES 

For. 

He  who  relies  on  argu- 
ments decides  according  to 
the  merits  of  the  pleader, 
not  of  the  cause. 

He  who  believes  argu- 
ments more  than  wit- 
nesses, ought  to  give  more 


Against. 

The  sense  according  to 
which  each  word  is  to  be 
interpreted  must  be  gath- 
ered from  all  the  words 
together. 

The  worst  tyranny  is 
the  torturing  of  the  law. 

AGAINST  ARGUMENTS. 
Against. 

If  witnesses  are  to  be 
believed  in  spite  of  argu- 
ments, it  is  enough  if  the 
judge  be  not  deaf. 

Arguments  are  the  an- 
tidote against  the  poison 
of  testimony. 


182         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

credit  to  the  wit  than  the         It  is   safest   to   believe 
senses.  those    proofs    which    sel- 

Arguments     might    be     domest  lie. 
trusted,  if  men  never  act- 
ed absurdly. 

Arguments,  when  op- 
posed to  testimony,  may 
make  a  fact  seem  strange, 
but  cannot  make  it  seem 
not  a  fact. 

These  Antitheses  (which  I  have  here  set  down)  are 
perhaps  of  no  great  value ;  but  as  I  had  long  ago  pre- 
pared and  collected  them,  I  was  loth  to  let  the  fruit  of 
my  youthful  industry  perish  —  the  rather  because  (if 
they  be  carefully  examined)  they  are  seeds  only,  not 
flowers.  In  one  respect  indeed  they  savour  altogether 
of  youth,  there  being  plenty  of  them  in  the  moral  and 
demonstrative  kind,  but  in  the  deliberative  and  judicial 
very  few. 

The  third  Collection,  which  belongs  to  the  Promptu- 
ary,  or  Preparatory  Store,  and  is  likewise  deficient,  is 
that  of  what  I  call  Lesser  Forms.  I  mean  those  parts 
of  speech  which  answer  to  the  vestibules,  back  doors, 
ante-chambers,  withdra wing-chambers,  passages,  &c., 
of  a  house  ;  and  may  serve  indiscriminately  for  all 
subjects.  Such  are  prefaces,  conclusions,  digressions, 
transitions,  intimations  of  what  is  coming,  excusations, 
and  a  number  of  the  kind.  For  as  in  buildings  it 
is  a  great  matter  both  for  pleasure  and  use  that  the 
fronts,  doors,  windows,  approaches,  passages,  and  the 
like  be  conveniently  arranged,  so  also  in  a  speech 


THE    SIXTH  BOOK.  183 

these  accessory  and  interstitial  passages  (if  they  be 
handsomely  and  skilfully  fashioned  and  placed)  add  a 
great  deal  both  of  ornament  and  effect  to  the  entire 
structure.  Of  these  Forms  I  will  subjoin  one  or  two 
examples,  without  dwelling  longer  upon  them.  For 
though  they  be  matters  of  no  small  use,  yet  as  I  have 
nothing  of  my  own  to  add  in  this  part,  but  merely 
transcribe  the  naked  forms  out  of  Demosthenes  or 
Cicero  or  some  other  chosen  author,  they  are  not  of 
that  importance  that  I  should  spend  time  upon  them. 

Examples  of  Lesser  Forms. 

A  CONCLUSION  IN  A  DELIBERATIVE. 

So  may  we  redeem  the  fault  passed  and  at  the  same 
time  prevent  the  inconveniences  to  come. 

COROLLARY  OF  AN  ACCURATE  DISTRIBUTION. 

That  all  may  know  that  I  have  no  wish  either  to 
evade  anything  by  silence  or  to  obscure  it  by  speech.1 

A  TRANSITION  WITH  A  HINT. 

Let  us  pass  these  things,  and  yet  not  without  mark- 
ing and  turning  back  to  look  at  them  as  we  go  by.2 

A  FORM  TO  PREOCCUPY  THE  MIND  AGAINST  AN  OPINION 

PREVIOUSLY   FORMED. 

I  will  make  you  understand  in  all  this  business 
how  much  is  truth,  how  much  error,  and  how  much 
envy.3 

i  Cic.  Pro  Cluent.  c.  1.  2  Cic  Pro  Sext.  c.  5. 

»  Cic.  Pro  Cluent.  c.  4. 


184         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

These  few  may  be  enough  by  way  of  examples, 
and  with  these  I  conclude  the  Appendices  to  Rheto- 
ric, which  belong  to  the  Promptuary. 


CHAP.  IV. 

Two  General  Appendices  of  the  Art  of  Transmission; 
Critical  and  Pedagogical. 

THERE  remain  two  appendices  touching  the  trans- 
mission of  knowledge  in  general ;  the  one  Critical,  the 
other  Pedagogical.  For  as  the  principal  part  of  trans- 
mission of  knowledge  consists  in  the  writing  of  books,  so 
the  relative  part  thereof  turns  on  the  reading  of  books. 
Now  reading  is  either  directed  by  teachers,  or  attained 
by  each  man's  own  endeavours ;  and  to  this  these  two 
knowledges  which  I  have  mentioned  appertain. 

To  the  Critical  part  belongs,  first,  the  true  correc- 
tion and  amended  edition  of  approved  authors ;  whereby 
both  themselves  receive  justice  and  their  students  light. 
Yet  in  this  the  rash  diligence  of  some  has  done  no  little 
harm.  For  many  critics,  when  they  meet  a  passage 
which  they  do  not  understand,  immediately  suppose 
that  there  is  a  fault  in  the  copy.  As  in  that  passage 
of  Tacitus,  where  he  relates  that  when  a  certain  col- 
ony asserted  before  the  senate  the  right  of  asylum, 
their  arguments  were  not  very  favourably  listened  to 
by  the  emperor  and  the  senate ;  whereupon  the  am- 
bassadors, fearing  for  the  success  of  their  cause,  gave  a 
good  sum  of  money  to  Titus  Vinius  to  support  them  — 
by  which  means  they  prevailed.  "  Then  "  (says  Taci- 
tus) "  the  dignity  and  antiquity  of  the  colony  had  its 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  185 

weight ; " l  meaning  that  the  arguments  which  appeared 
light  before  gained  fresh  weight  by  the  money.  But  a 
critic,  and  he  not  one  of  the  worst,  here  erased  the 
word  turn,  and  substituted  tantum.  And  this  bad  habit 
of  critics  has  brought  it  to  pass  that  (as  some  one  has 
wisely  remarked)  "  the  most  corrected  copies  are  often 
the  least  correct."  Moreover,  to  speak  truly,  unless 
critics  be  learned  in  the  sciences  which  the  books  they 
edit  treat  of,  their  diligence  is  not  without  its  danger. 

Secondly,  there  belongs  to  the  Critical  part  the  in- 
terpretation and  explication  of  authors,  —  commenta- 
ries, scholia,  annotations,  collections  of  beauties,  and 
the  like.  In  labours  of  this  kind  however  some  of  the 
critics  have  been  visited  with  that  very  bad  disease,  of 
leaping  over  many  of  the  obscurer  places,  while  they 
linger  and  expatiate  to  tediousness  on  those  which  are 
clear  enough ;  as  if  the  object  were  not  so  much  to 
illustrate  the  author  as  to  display  on  every  possible 
opportunity  the  extensive  learning  and  various  reading 
of  the  critic  himself.  It  were  especially  to  be  desired 
(though  this  is  a  matter  which  belongs  rather  to  the 
art  of  transmission  in  the  main,  than  to  the  appendices 
thereof)  that  every  writer  who  handles  arguments  of 
the  obscurer  and  more  important  kind,  should  himself 
subjoin  his  own  explanations ;  that  so  the  text  may  not 
be  interrupted  by  digressions  and  expositions,  and  the 
notes  may  not  be  at  variance  with  the  writer's  mean- 
ing. Something  of  the  kind  I  suspect  in  Theon's  Com- 
mentary on  Euclid. 

There  belongs  thirdly  to  the  Critical  part  (and  from 
this  indeed  it  derives  its  name)  the  insertion  of  some 

1  Cf.  Tacitus,  Hist.  i.  66.    The  case  is  incorrectly  stated.    See  Mr.  Ellis'a 
aote,  vol.  ii.  p.  492.  —  J.  S. 


186         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

brief  judgment  concerning  the  authors  edited,  and 
comparison  of  them  with  other  writers  on  the  same 
subjects ;  that  students  may  by  such  censure  be  both 
advised  what  books  to  read  and  better  prepared  when 
they  come  to  read  them.  This  last  office  is  indeed,  so 
to  speak,  the  critic's  chair ;  which  has  certainly  in  our 
age  been  ennobled  by  some  great  men,  —  men  in  my 
judgment  above  the  stature  of  critics. 

As  for  the  Pedagogical  part,  the  shortest  rule  would 
be,  "  Consult  the  schools  of  the  Jesuits ; "  for  nothing 
better  has  been  put  in  practice.  Nevertheless  I  will 
as  usual  give  a  few  hints,  gleaning  an  ear  here  and 
there.  I  am  clearly  in  favour  of  a  collegiate  education 
for  boys  and  young  men ;  not  in  private  houses,  nor 
merely  under  schoolmasters.  For  in  colleges  there  is 
a  greater  emulation  of  the  youths  amongst  themselves ; 
there  is  also  the  sight  and  countenance  of  grave  men, 
which  tends  to  modesty,  and  forms  their  young  minds 
from  the  very  first  after  that  model ;  and  in  short  there 
are  very  many  advantages  in  a  collegiate  education. 
For  the  order  and  manner  of  teaching,  I  would  say 
first  of  all, — avoid  abridgments  and  a  certain  precocity 
of  learning,  which  makes  the  mind  over  bold,  and 
causes  great  proficiency  rather  in  show  than  in  fact. 
-Also  let  some  encouragement  be  given  to  the  free  ex- 
ercise of  the  pupils'  minds  and  tastes ;  I  mean,  if  any 
of  them,  besides  performing  the  prescribed  exercises, 
shall  steal  time  withal  for  other  pursuits  to  which  he  is 
more  inclined,  let  him  not  be  checked.  Observe  more- 
over (what  perhaps  has  not  hitherto  been  remarked) 
that  there  are  two  ways  of  training  and  exercising  and 
preparing  the  mind,  which  proceed  in  opposite  direc- 
tions. The  one  begins  with  the  easier  tasks,  and  so 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK.  187 

leads  on  gradually  to  the  more  difficult ;  the  other  be- 
gins by  enforcing  and  pressing  the  more  difficult,  that 
when  they  are  mastered  the  easier  ones  may  be  per- 
formed with  pleasure.  For  it  is  one  method  to  begin 
swimming  with  bladders,  which  keep  you  up ;  and  an- 
other to  begin  dancing  with  heavy  shoes,  which  weigh 
you  down.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  tell  how  much  a  judicious 
intermixture  of  these  methods  helps  to  advance  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  and  body.  Again,  the  applica- 
tion and  choice  of  studies  according  to  the  nature  of 
the  mind  to  be  taught,  is  a  matter  of  wonderful  use 
and  judgment ;  the  due  and  careful  observation  whereof 
is  due  from  the  masters  to  the  parents,  that  they  may 
be  able  to  advise  them  as  to  the  course  of  life  they 
should  choose  for  their  sons.  And  herein  it  should  be 
carefully  observed,  that  as  a  man  will  advance  far  fast- 
est in  those  pursuits  to  which  he  is  naturally  inclined, 
so  with  respect  to  those  for  which  he  is  by  defect  of 
nature  most  unsuited  there  are  found  in  studies  prop- 
erly chosen  a  cure  and  remedy  for  his  defects.  For 
example,  if  one  be  bird-witted,  that  is  easily  distracted 
and  unable  to  keep  his  attention  as  long  as  he  should, 
Mathematics  provides  a  remedy;  for  in  them  if  the 
mind  be  caught  away  but  a  moment,  the  demonstra- 
tion has  to  be  commenced  anew.  Exercises,  again,  it 
is  obvious,  play  the  principal  part  in  instruction.  But 
few  have  observed  that  there  ought  to  be  not  only  a 
wise  choice  and  course  of  exercises,  but  a  wise  inter- 
mission of  them  also ;  for  it  is  well  observed  by  Cicero, 
"  that  men  in  their  exercises  for  the  most  part  exercise 
their  faults  as  well  as  their  faculties," 1  so  that  an  ill 
habit  is  sometimes  acquired  along  with  the  good.  It  is 

i  Cic.  De  Orator,  i.  33. 


188         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

safer  therefore  to  intermit  exercises  from  time  to  time 
and  return  to  them  after  a  while,  than  continually  to 
pursue  and  press  them.  But  enough  of  this.  Cer- 
tainly these  are  matters  not  very  grand  or  imposing 
at  first  sight,  yet  of  singular  fruit  and  efficacy.  For 
as  the  good  or  ill  thriving  of  plants  depends  chiefly 
upon  the  good  or  ill  treatment  they  received  when 
they  were  young  and  tender ;  and  as  the  immense  in- 
crease of  the  Roman  empire  is  by  some  deservedly 
attributed  to  the  virtue  and  wisdom  of  the  first  six 
kings,  who  were  in  truth  as  the  tutors  and  guardians 
of  it  in  its  infancy ; l  so  surely  the  culture  and  ordering 
of  youthful  or  tender  years  has  a  power  which,  though 
latent  and  not  perceptible  to  everybody,  neither  length 
of  time  nor  assiduity  and  earnestness  of  labour  in  ma- 
ture age  can  afterwards  countervail.  It  will  not  be 
amiss  to  observe  also,  that  even  mean  faculties,  when 
they  fall  into  great  men  or  great  matters,  sometimes 
work  great  and  important  effects.  Of  this  I  will  adduce 
a  memorable  example ;  the  rather,  because  the  Jesuits 
appear  not  to  despise  this  kind  of  discipline ;  therein 
judging  (as  I  think)  well.  It  is  a  thing  indeed,  if 
practised  professionally,  of  low  repute ;  but  if  it  be 
made  a  part  of  discipline,  it  is  of  excellent  use.  I 
mean  stage-playing  :  an  art  which  strengthens  the 
memory,  regulates  the  tone  and  effect  of  the  voice 
and  pronunciation,  teaches  a  decent  carriage  of  the 
countenance  and  gesture,  gives  not  a  little  assurance, 
and  accustoms  young  men  to  bear  being  looked  at. 
The  example  which  I  shall  give,  taken  from  Tacitus, 
is  that  of  one  Vibulenus,  formerly  an  actor,  then  a 
soldier  in  the  Pannonian  legions.  This  man  had  at 

1  Macchiavelli,  Discorsi,  i.  19. 


THE  SIXTH  BOOK. 

the  death  of  Augustus  raised  a  mutiny,  whereupon 
BlaBsus,  the  lieutenant,  committed  some  of  the  muti- 
neers to  prison.  The  soldiers  however  broke  in  and 
let  them  out ;  whereupon  Vibulenus  getting  up  to 
speak,  began  thus  ;  "  These  poor  innocent  wretches 
you  have  restored  to  light  and  life ;  but  who  shall  re- 
store life  to  my  brother,  or  my  brother  to  me  ?  whom, 
being  sent  hither  in  message  from  the  legions  of  Ger- 
many, to  treat  of  the  common  cause,  this  man  has 
murdered  last  night  by  some  of  his  swordsmen,  whom 
he  keeps  and  arms  for  the  execution  of  soldiers.  An- 
swer, Blaesus,  where  have  you  thrown  his  body  ?  Ene- 
mies themselves  deny  not  burial.  When  with  kisses 
and  tears  I  shall  have  satiated  my  grief,  command  me 
also  to  be  slain  beside  him ;  only  let  these  my  fellows, 
seeing  we  are  put  to  death  for  no  crime,  but  be- 
cause we  consulted  for  the  good  of  the  legions,  have 
leave  to  buiy  us."  With  which  words  he  excited 
such  excessive  jealousy  and  alarm,  that,  had  it  not 
shortly  afterwards  appeared  that  nothing  of  the  sort 
had  happened,  nay,  that  he  had  never  had  a  brother, 
the  soldiers  would  hardly  have  kept  their  hands  off  the 
prefect ;  but  the  fact  was  that  he  played  the  whole 
thing  as  if  it  had  been  a  piece  on  the  stage. 

And  now  I  am  come  to  the  end  of  my  treatise  con- 
cerning Rational  Knowledges ;  wherein  if  I  have  some- 
times made  the  divisions  other  than  those  that  are 
received,  yet  let  it  not  be  thought  that  I  disallow  all 
those  divisions  which  I  do  not  use.  For  there  is  a 
double  necessity  imposed  upon  me  of  altering  the  di- 
visions. First,  because  to  reduce  into  one  class  things 
next  in  nature,  and  to  gather  into  one  bundle  things 
wanted  for  use,  are  operations  differing  in  the  very 


190         TRANSLATION   OF   THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

end  and  intention.  For  as  a  secretary  of  a  king  01 
state,  when  he  arranges  his  papers  in  his  study  or  gen- 
eral cabinet,  puts  those  things  together,  no  doubt, 
which  are  of  like  nature,  —  treaties  by  themselves  in 
one  place,  instructions  by  themselves  in  another,  for- 
eign letters,  domestic  letters,  and  the  like,  each  apart 
by  themselves, — but  when  on  the  contrary  he  arranges 
them  in  his  boxes  or  particular  cabinet,  he  puts  those 
together  which,  though  of  different  kinds,  he  thinks  he 
will  have  occasion  to  use  together ;  so  in  this  general 
cabinet  of  knowledge  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  make 
the  divisions  according  to  the  nature  of  the  things 
themselves,  whereas  if  I  had  been  to  handle  any  par- 
ticular knowledge  I  should  have  adopted  the  divisions 
fittest  for  use  and  practice.  Secondly,  because  the  in- 
troduction of  the  Desiderata,  and  the  incorporation  of 
them  with  the  rest,  involved  as  a  consequence  an  alter- 
ation in  the  distribution  of  the  existing  sciences.  For 
suppose  (by  way  of  demonstration)  that  the  arts  which 
we  now  have  are  as  15,  and  that  the  same  with  the 
desiderata  added  are  as  20  ;  I  say  that  the  factors  of 
the  number  15  are  not  the  same  with  the  factors  of  the 
number  20.  For  the  factors  of  15  are  3  and  5 ;  the 
factors  of  20  are  2,  4,  5,  and  10.  It  is  plain  therefore 
that  these  things  could  not  be  otherwise.  And  so 
much  for  the  Logical  Sciences. 


or 


THE   ADVANCEMENT   OF   LEAENING. 
BOOK  VII. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Division  of  Moral  Knowledge  into  the  Exemplar  or 
Platform  of  Good,  and  the  G-eorgics  or  Culture  of 
the  Mind.  The  Division  of  the  Platform,  of  Good, 
into  Simple  and  Comparative  Good.  The  Division 
of  Simple  Good  into  Individual  Good,  and  Good  of 
Communion. 

WE  come  now,  most  excellent  king,  to  moral  knowl- 
edge, which  respects  and  considers  the  will  of  man. 
The  will  is  governed  by  right  reason,  seduced  by  ap- 
parent good,  having  for  its  spurs  the  passions,  for  its 
ministers  the  organs  and  voluntary  motions  ;  wherefore 
Solomon  says,  "  Above  all  things  keep  thy  heart  with 
all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life." x  In 
the  handling  of  this  science,  the  writers  seem  to  me  to 
have  done  as  if  a  man  who,  professing  to  teach  the  art 
of  writing,  had  exhibited  only  fair  copies  of  letters, 
single  and  joined,  without  giving  any  direction  for  the 
carriage  of  the  pen  and  framing  of  the  characters.  So 

1  Prov.  iv.  23. 


192         TRANSLATION  OF  THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

have  these  writers  set  forth  good  and  fair  copies,  and 
accurate  draughts  and  portraitures  of  good,  virtue,  duty, 
and  felicity,  as  the  true  objects  for  the  will  and  desires 
of  man  to  aim  at.  But  though  the  marks  themselves 
be  excellent  and  well  placed,  how  a  man  may  best 
take  his  aim  at  them ;  that  is,  by  what  method  and 
course  of  education  the  mind  may  be  trained  and  put 
in  order  for  the  attainment  of  them,  they  pass  over 
altogether,  or  slightly  and  un profitably.  We  may  dis- 
course as  much  as  we  please  that  the  moral  virtues  are 
in  the  mind  of  man  by  habit,  and  not  by  nature,  and 
we  may  make  a  formal  distinction  that  generous  spirits 
are  won  by  doctrines  and  persuasions,  and  the  vulgar 
sort  by  reward  and  punishment ;  or  we  may  give  it  in 
precept  that  the  mind  like  a  crooked  stick  must  be 
straightened  by  bending  it  the  contrary  way,1  and  the 
like  scattered  glances  and  touches  ;  but  they  would  be 
very  far  from  supplying  the  place  of  that  which  we 
require. 

The  reason  of  this  neglect  I  suppose  to  be  that  hid- 
den rock  whereupon  both  this  and  so  many  other  barks 
of  knowledge  have  struck  and  foundered ;  which  is, 
that  men  have  despised  to  be  conversant  in  ordinary 
and  common  matters  which  are  neither  subtle  enough 
for  disputation,  nor  illustrious  enough  for  ornament. 
It  is  hard  to  compute  the  extent  of  the  evil  thus  intro- 
duced ;  namely,  how  from  innate  pride  and  vain  glory 
men  have  chosen  those  subjects  of  discourse,  and  those 
methods  of  handling  them,  which  rather  display  their 
own  genius  than  benefit  the  reader.  Seneca  says  well, 
"  Eloquence  is  injurious  to  those  whom  it  inspires  with 
a  fondness  for  itself,  and  not  for  the  subject ;  "  2  for 

i  Arist.  Nic.  Eth.  ii.  9.  a  Seneca,  Epist.  52. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  193 

writings  should  be  such  as  should  make  men  in  love 
with  the  lesson,  and  not  with  the  teacher.  They 
therefore  are  on  the  right  path,  who  can  say  the  same 
of  their  counsels  as  Demosthenes  did  of  his,  and  con- 
clude with  this  sentence,  "  If  you  do  what  I  advise 
you  will  not  only  praise  the  orator  at  the  time,  but  in 
no  long  time  yourselves  also,  by  reason  of  the  better 
condition  of  your  affairs."  1  For  myself,  most  excel- 
lent king,  I  may  truly  say  that  both  in  this  present 
work,  and  in  those  I  intend  to  publish  hereafter,  I 
often  advisedly  and  deliberately  throw  aside  the  dignity 
of  my  name  and  wit  (if  such  thing  be)  in  my  endeav- 
our to  advance  human  interests ;  and  being  one  that 
should  properly  perhaps  be  an  architect  in  philosophy 
and  the  sciences,  I  turn  common  labourer,  hodman, 
anything  that  is  wanted  ;  taking  upon  myself  the  bur- 
den and  execution  of  many  things  which  must  needs 
be  done,  and  which  others  through  an  inborn  pride 
shrink  from  and  decline.  But  to  return  to  the  sub- 
ject :  moral  philosophers  have  chosen  for  themselves 
a  certain  glittering  and  lustrous  mass  of  matter,  where- 
in they  may  principally  glorify  themselves  for  the  point 
of  their  wit,  or  the  power  of  their  eloquence ;  but 
those  which  are  of  most  use  for  practice,  seeing  that 
they  cannot  be  so  clothed  with  rhetorical  ornaments, 
they  have  for  the  most  part  passed  over. 

Neither  needed  men  of  so  excellent  parts  to  have 
despaired1  of  a  fortune,  which  the  poet  Virgil  promised 
to  himself,  and  indeed  obtained ;  who  got  as  much 
glory  of  eloquence,  wit,  and  learning  in  the  expressing 
of  the  observations  of  husbandry,  as  of  the  heroical 
acts  of  JEneas  ; 

1  Demosth,  Olynth.  ii. 
VOL.  ix.  13 


194  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

Nee  sum  animi  dubius,  verbis  ea  vincere  magnum 
Quam  sit,  et  angustis  his  addere  rebus  honorem.1 

And  surely,  if  the  purpose  be  in  good  earnest,  not  to 
write  at  leisure  that  which  men  may  read  at  leisure, 
but  really  to  instruct  and  suborn  action  and  active  live, 
these  Georgics  of  the  Mind  are  no  less  worthy  to  be 
had  in  honour  than  the  heroical  descriptions  of  virtue, 
goodness,  and  felicity,  whereon  so  much  labour  has 
been  spent. 

Wherefore  I  will  divide  moral  knowledge  into  two 
principal  parts ;  the  one  "  the  Exemplar  or  Platform 
of  Good,"  the  other  "  the  Regiment  or  Culture  of  the 
Mind"  which  I  also  call  the  Gieorgics  of  the  Mind; 
the  one  describing  the  nature  of  good,  the '  other  pre- 
scribing rules  how  to  accommodate  the  will  of  man 
thereunto. 

The  doctrine  touching  the  platform  -or  nature  of 
good,  considers  good  either  Simple  or  Comparative  : 
either  the  kinds  of  good,  or  the  degrees  of  good  ;  in 
the  latter  whereof  those  infinite  disputations  and  spec- 
ulations touching  the  supreme  degree  thereof,  which 
they  termed  "Felicity,"  "Beatitude,"  or  the  "Highest 
Good  "  (which  were  as  the  heathen  Divinity),  are  by 
the  Christian  faith  removed  and  discharged.  And  as 
Aristotle  says,  "That  young  men  may  be  happy,  but 
only  by  hope," 2  so  we,  instructed  by  the  Christian 
faith,  must  all  acknowledge  our  minority,  and  content 
ourselves  with  that  felicity  which  rests  in  hope. 

Freed  therefore  happily,  and  delivered  from  this 
doctrine  of  the  heathen  heaven,  whereby  they  cer- 

1  Virg.  Georg.  iii.  289. :  — 

How  hard  the  task,  alas,  full  well  I  know, 
With  charms  of  words  to  grace  a  theme  so  low. 

a  Arist.  Nic.  Eth.  i.  10. 


THE  SEVENTH   BOOK.  195 

tainly  imagined  a  higher  elevation  of  man's  nature 
than  it  is  really  capable  of  (for  we  see  in  what  height 
of  style  Seneca  writes,  "  It  is  true  greatness  to  have 
the  frailty  of  a  man  and  the  security  of  a  god  " *),  we 
may  with  more  sobriety  and  truth  receive  the  rest  of 
what  they  have  delivered  concerning  the  doctrine  of 
the  Exemplar ;  wherein,  for  the  nature  of  good  Posi- 
tive or  Simple,  they  have  painted  it  excellently  and  to 
the  life,  as  in  a  picture,  diligently  representing  the 
forms  of  virtues  and  duties,  their  situations  and  their 
postures,  kinds,  relations,  parts,  subjects,  provinces, 
actions,  administrations,  and  the  like ;  nay  further, 
they  have  commended  and  insinuated  them  into  man's 
nature  and  spirit  with  great  quickness  of  argument 
and  beauty  of  persuasions  ;  yea,  and  fortified  and  en- 
trenched them,  as  much  as  discourse  can  do,  against 
corrupt  and  popular  opinions.  Again,  for  the  nature 
of  Comparative  Good,  they  have  also  excellently  well 
handled  it,  in  their  triplicity  of  good ;  in  the  compar- 
ison between  a  contemplative  and  active  life ;  in  the 
distinction  between  virtue  with  reluctation,  and  virtue 
settled  and  secured  ;  in  their  encounters  between  hon- 
esty and  profit ;  in  their  balancing  of  virtue  with  virtue, 
as  to  which  outweighs  the  other,  and  the  like  ;  so  that 
I  find  that  this  part  is  excellently  laboured,  and  that 
the  ancients  have  done  their  work  admirably  therein, 
yet  so  as  the  pious  and  earnest  diligence  of  divines, 
which  has  been  employed  in  weighing  and  determin- 
ing duties,  moral  virtues,  cases  of  conscience,  the 
bounds  of  sin,  and  the  like,  has  left  the  philosophers 
far  behind. 

Notwithstanding  (to  return  to  the  philosophers),  if 
i  Seneca,  Epist.  53 


196          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  '  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

before  they  had  come  to  the  popular  and  received  no- 
tions of  virtue  and  vice,  pleasure  and  pain,  and  the 
rest,  they  had  stayed  a  little  longer  upon  the  inquiry 
concerning  the  roots  of  good  and  evil,  and  the  strings 
of  those  roots  ;  they  had  given  in  my  opinion  a  great 
light  to  those  questions  which  followed  ;  and  especially 
if  they  had  consulted  with  the  nature  of  things,  as  well 
as  moral  axioms,  they  had  made  their  doctrines  less 
prolix,  and  more  profound  ;  which  being  by  them  in 
part  omitted,  and  in  part  handled  with  much  con- 
fusion, I  will  briefly  resume  ;  and  endeavour  to  open 
and  cleanse  the  fountains  of  morality,  before  I  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  culture  of  the  mind,  which  I 
set  down  as  deficient.  For  this  will  in  my  opinion  rein- 
force the  doctrine  of  the  exemplar  with  new  strength. 

There  is  formed  and  imprinted  in  everything  an 
appetite  toward  two  natures  of  good ;  the  one  as  every- 
thing is  a  total  or  substantive  in  itself,  the  other  as 
it  is  a  part  or  member  of  a  greater  body ;  whereof 
the  latter  is  in  degree  the  greater  and  the  worthier, 
because  it  tends  to  the  conservation  of  a  more  general 
form.  The  former  of  these  may  be  termed  "  Individ- 
ual or  Self-good,"  the  latter  the  "  Good  of  Commun- 
ion." Iron  in  particular  sympathy  moves  to  the  load- 
stone, but  yet,  if  it  exceed  a  certain  quantity  it  for- 
sakes its  affection  to  the  loadstone,  and  like  a  good 
patriot  moves  to  the  earth,  which  is  the  region  and 
country  of  its  connaturals ;  so  again,  compact  and 
massy  bodies  move  to  the  earth,  the  great  collection 
of  dense  bodies  ;  and  yet  rather  than  suffer  a  divulsion 
in  nature  and  create  a  vacuum,  they  will  move  up- 
wards from  the  centre  of  the  earth,  forsaking  their 
duty  to  the  earth  in  regard  to  their  duty  to  the  world. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  197 

Thus  it  is  ever  the  case,  that  the  conservation  of  the 
more  general  form  controls  and  keeps  in  order  the  less 
er  appetites  and  inclinations.  This  prerogative  of  the 
communion  of  good  is  much  more  engraven  upon  man, 
if  he  be  not  degenerate  ;  according  to  that  memorable 
speech  of  Pompey,  when  being  in  commission  of  pur 
vevance  for  a  famine  at  Rome,  and  being  dissuaded 
with  great  vehemency  and  instance  by  his  friends  about 
him  that  he  should  not  hazard  himself  to  sea  in  an  ex- 
tremity of  weather,  he  said  only  to  them,  "  It  is  need- 
ful that  I  go,  not  that  I  live ;  "  l  so  that  the  love  of 
life,  which  is  the  predominant  feeling  in  the  individual, 
did  not  with  him  outweigh  affection  and  fidelity  to  the 
commonwealth.  But  why  do  I  dwell  on  this  point? 
for  never  in  any  age  has  there  been  any  philosophy, 
sect,  religion,  law,  or  other  disclipline,  which  did  so 
highly  exalt  the  good  which  is  communicative,  and  de- 
press the  good  which  is  private  and  particular,  as  the 
Holy  Christian  Faith  ;  well  declaring  that  it  was  the 
same  God,  who  gave  the  Christian  law  to  men,  that 
gave  also  those  laws  of  Nature  to  inanimate  creatures  ; 
whence  we  read  that  some  of  the  elected  saints  of  God 
have  wished,  rather  than  that  their  brethren  should 
not  obtain  salvation,  that  they  themselves  should  be 
anathematized  and  erased  out  of  the  book  of  life,  in  an 
ecstasy  of  charity  and  infinite  feeling  of  communion.2 

This  being  set  down  and  strongly  planted,  judges 
and  determines  some  of  the  most  important  controver- 
sies in  moral  philosophy.  For  first  it  decides  the  ques- 
tion touching  the  preferment  of  the  contemplative  or 
active  life,  and  decides  it  against  Aristotle.  For  all 

1  Pint,  in  Pomp.  c.  50. 

2  St.  Paul,  Romans,  ix.  3. ;  and  Exod.  xxxii.  32. 


198         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

the  reasons  which  he  brings  for  the  contemplative  re« 
spect  private  good,  and  the  pleasure  or  dignity  of  a 
man's  self;  in  which  respects  no  question  the  contem- 
plative life  has  the  pre-eminence,  being  not  much 
unlike  that  comparison  which  Pythagoras  made  for  the 
gracing  and  magnifying  of  philosophy  and  contempla- 
tion ;  who,  being  asked  by  Hiero  what  he'  was,  an- 
swered, "  that  if  Hiero  were  ever  at  the  Olympian 
games,  he  knew  the  manner,  that  some  came  to  try 
their  fortune  for  the  prizes ;  and  some  came  as  mer- 
chants to  utter  their  commodities  ;  and  some  came  to 
make  good  cheer,  and  meet  their  friends ;  and  some 
came  to  look  on  ;  and  that  he  was  one  of  them  that 
came  to  look  on."  l  But  men  must  know  that  in  this 
theatre  of  man's  life  it  is  reserved  only  for  God  and 
Angels  to  be  lookers  on  ;  neither  could  the  like  ques- 
tion ever  have  been  raised  in  the  Church  (notwith- 
standing it  has  been  in  the  mouths  of  many,  "  Right 
dear  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his 
Saints,"  2  by  which  text  they  used  to  exalt  that  civil 
death  of  theirs,  and  the  orders  and  rules  of  the  life 
monastic)  ;  were  it  not  true  withal  that  the  monastical 
life  is  not  simply  contemplative,  but  engaged  also  in 
the  performance  of  certain  ecclesiastical  duties,  such 
as  continual  prayer,  and  votive  sacrifices  offered  to 
God,  and  the  leisurely  writing  of  theological  books  for 
advancing  the  knowledge  of  the  divine  law ;  as  Moses 
did,  when  he  abode  so  long  in  the  Mount.  And  so 
we  see,  that  Enoch,  the  seventh  from  Adam,  who 
seems  to  have  been  the  first  contemplative  (for  he  is 
said  to  have  walked  with  God3),  yet  also  endowed  the 

1  lamblichus  in  Vita,  and  Cic.  Tusc.  Quaest.  v.  3. 
*  Psalm  cxvi.  15.  8  Gen.  v.  24. 


THE  SEVENTH   BOOK.  199 

Church  with  a  book  of  prophecy,  which  St.  Jude  cites.1 
But  for  mere  contemplation  which  should  be  finished 
in  itself  without  casting  beams  of  heat  and  light  upon 
society,  assuredly  divinity  knows  it  not.  It  decides 
also  the  question  so  earnestly  argued  between  the 
schools  of  Zeno  and  Socrates  on  the  one  hand,  who 
placed  felicity  in  virtue  simple  or  attended,  which  is 
ever  chiefly  concerned  with  the  duties  of  life  ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  the  numerous  other  sects,  as  the  Cyre- 
naics  and  Epicureans,  who  placed  it  in  pleasure,  and 
made  virtue  (as  it  is  used  in  some  comedies,  wherein 
the  mistress  and  the  maid  change  habits)  to  be  but  as 
a  servant,  without  which  pleasure  cannot  be  properly 
served  and  attended ;  and  the  reformed  school  of  the 
Epicureans,  which  pronounced  felicity  to  be  nothing 
else  than  the  tranquillity  and  serenity  of  a  mind  free 
from  perturbation  (as  if  they  would  have  deposed  Ju- 
piter again,  and  restored  Saturn  with  the  Golden  Age, 
when  there  was  neither  summer  nor  winter,  spring  nor 
autumn,  but  all  after  one  air  and  season)  ;  and  lastly, 
that  exploded  school  of  Pyrrho  and  Herillus,  who 
placed  felicity  in  the  removal  from  the  mind  of  all 
doubts  and  scruples,  admitting  no  fixed  and  consistent 
nature  of  good  and  evil,  but  esteeming  actions  good  or 
evil,  according  as  they  proceed  from  the  mind  acting 
clearly  and  regularly,  or  with  reluctance  and  aversion  ; 
which  opinion  was  revived  in  the  heresy  of  the  Ana- 
baptists, who  measured  all  things  according  to  the  no- 
tions or  instincts  of  the  spirit,  and  the  constancy  or 
wavering  of  belief.  Now  all  the  points  above  enumer- 
ated manifestly  regard  private  repose  and  contentment, 
and  not  the  good  of  society. 

i  Jade,  Epist.  14. 


200         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

It  censures  also  the  philosophy  of  Epictetus,  who 
presupposes  that  felicity  must  be  placed  in  those  things 
which  are  in  our  power,  lest  we  be  subject  to  fortune 
and  disturbance ;  as  if  it  were  not  a  thing  much  more 
happy  to  fail  in  good  and  virtuous  ends  for  the  public, 
than  to  obtain  all  that  we  can  wish  to  ourselves  in  our 
private  fortune ;  as  Gonsalvo,  addressing  his  soldiers 
and  pointing  to  Naples,  nobly  protested,  "  He  had 
rather  die  one  foot  forwards,  than  secure  a  long  life 
by  one  foot  of  retreat." 1  Whereunto  agrees  the  wis- 
dom of  that  heavenly  leader,  who  has  affirmed  "  that  a 
good  conscience  is  a  continual  feast,"2  showing  plainly 
that  the  conscience  of  good  intentions  howsoever  fail- 
ing in  success  imparts  a  joy  truer,  surer,  and  more 
agreeable  to  nature,  than  all  the  provision  which  a  man 
can  make  either  for  the  satisfying  of  his  desires  or  for 
the  repose  of  his  mind. 

It  censures,  like  wise  that  abuse  of  philosophy  which 
grew  general  about  the  times  of  Epictetus  in  convert- 
ing it  into  an  occupation  or  profession,  as  if  the  busi- 
ness of  philosophy  had  been  not  to  resist  and  extinguish 
perturbations,  but  to  fly  and  avoid  the  causes  and  occa- 
sions of  them,  and  to  shape  a  particular  kind  and  course 
of  life  to  that  end ;  introducing  such  a  health  of  mind, 
as  was  that  health  of  body  cultivated  by  Herodicus,  of 
whom  Aristotle  tells  us,  that  he  did  nothing  all  his  life 

'  O 

long  but  attend  his  health,  and  accordingly  abstained 
from  an  infinite  variety  of  things,  depriving  himself 
as  it  were  of  the  use  of  his  body  in  the  meantime.3 
Whereas,  if  men  refer  themselves  to  duties  of  society, 
as  that  state  of  body  is  most  to  be  desired  which  is  best 
able  to  endure  and  overcome  all  changes  and  extremi- 

i  Guicciard.  vi.  2.  2  prov.  xv.  15.  8  Rhct.  j.  5.  10. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  201 

ties ;  so  likewise  that  mind  is  to  be  esteemed  truly  and 
properly  healthy  which  can  go  through  the  greatest 
temptations  and  perturbations:  so  that  Diogenes's  opin- 
ion seems  excellent,  who  commended  that  strength  of 
mind  which  enabled  a  man  not  to  abstain  but  to  sus- 
tain, and  which  could  refrain  its  impetuosity  even  in 
the  steepest  precipices,  and  give  it  the  property  of  a 
well  broken  horse,  that  of  stopping  and  turning  most 
quickly  and  suddenly. 

Lastly,  it  censures  also  the  tenderness  and  want  of 
compliance  in  some  of  the  most  ancient  and  reverend 
philosophers,  who  retired  too  easily  from  civil  business 
that  they  might  avoid  indignities  and  perturbations, 
and  live  (as  they  thought)  more  pure  and  saint-like ; 
whereas  the  resolution  of  men  truly  moral  ought  to 
be  such  as  the  same  Gonsalvo  required  in  a  soldier, 
"whose  honour,"  he  said,  "  should  be  of  a  stouter  web, 
and  not  so  fine  as  that  everything  should  catch  in  it, 
and  rend  it." 


CHAP.  II. 

The  Division  of  Individual,  or  Self -good,  into  Active  and 
Passive  Good.  —  The  Division  of  Passive  Good  into 
Conservative  and  Perfective  Good.  —  The  Division 
of  the  Good  of  Communion,  into  General  and  Respec- 
tive Duties. 

To  resume  then,  and  pursue  first  private  and  self 
good,  we  will  divide  it  into  Good  Active  and  Good  Pas- 
sive; for  this  difference  of  good,  not  unlike  to  that 
which,  amongst  the  Romans,  was  expressed  in  the 


202          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

familiar  or  household  terms  of  "  Promus  "  and  "  Con- 
dus,"  is  formed  also  in  all  things,  and  is  best  disclosed 
in  the  two  several  appetites  in  creatures  ;  the  one,  to 
preserve  or  continue  themselves :  and  the  other,  to 
multiply  and  propagate  themselves ;  whereof  the  lat- 
ter, which  is  active  and  as  it  were  the  promus,  seems 
to  be  the  stronger  and  more  worthy ;  and  the  former, 
which  is  passive  and  as  it  were  the  condus,  seems  to 
be  inferior.  For  in  the  universe,  the  heavenly  nature 
is  mostly  the  agent,  the  earthly  nature  the  patient ;  in 
the  pleasures  of  living  creatures,  that  of  generation  is 
greater  than  that  of  food ;  in  divine  doctrine,  "  It  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,"  1  and  in  common 
life,  there  is  no  man's  spirit  so  soft  and  effeminate  but 
esteems  the  effecting  of  somewhat  that  he  has  fixed  in 
his  desire  more  than  any  pleasure  or  sensuality.  And 
this  pre-eminence  of  the  active  good  is  infinitely  raised 
by  the  consideration  that  the  condition  of  man  is  mor- 
tal, and  exposed  to  the  blows  of  fortune ;  for  if  wo 
might  have  a  certainty  and  perpetuity  in  our  pleasures, 
the  certainty  and  continuance  of  them  would  advance 
their  price.  But  when  we  see  it  is  but  thus  with  us, 
"We  count  it  much  to  postpone  death  for  awhile;"2 
"  Boast  not  thyself  of  the  morrow ;  Thou  knowest  not 
what  a  day  may  bring  forth;"3  it  is  no  wonder  that 
we  earnestly  pursue  such  things  as  are  secured  and 
exempted  from  the  injuries  of  time,  which  are  only 
our  deeds  and  our  works  ;  as  it  is  said,  "  Their  works 
follow  them."4  There  is  also  another  important  pre- 
eminence of  the  active  good,  produced  and  upheld  by 
that  affection  which  is  inseparable  from  human  nature ; 

i  Luke,  xiv.  12-14. ;  Acts,  xx.  35.  2  Seneca,  Nat.  Qusest  ii.  59. 

*  Prov.  xxvii.  1.  *  Rev.  xiv.  13. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  203 

the  love  of  novelty  and  variety ;  which  in  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  sense  (which  is  the  principal  part  of  passive 
good)  is  very  confined,  and  can  have  no  great  latitude.1 
"  Only  think  how  often  you  do  the  same  thing  over 
and  over.  Food,  Sleep,  Play,  come  round  in  a  per- 
petual circle ;  a  man  might  wish  to  die,  not  only  fron 
fortitude  or  misery  or  wisdom,  but  merely  from  disgust 
and  weariness  of  life."  But  in  enterprises,  pursuits 
and  purposes  of  life  there  is  much  variety ;  whereof 
men  are  sensible  with  pleasure  in  their  inceptions,  pro- 
gressions, rests,  recoils,  reintegrations,  approaches,  and 
attainings  to  their  ends ;  so  as  it  was  well  said,  "  Life 
without  a  purpose  is  unsettled  and  languid."2  And 
this  befalls  as  well  the  wise  as  the  foolish ;  as  Solomon 
says,  "A  heady  man  seeks  to  satisfy  his  desire,  and 
intermeddles  with  everything."3  And  we  see  that 
the  greatest  kings  who  might  have  at  command  every- 
thing which  can  gratify  the  sense,  have  yet  sometimes 
affected  mean  and  frivolous  pursuits  (as  was  the  pas- 
sion of  Nero  for  the  harp,  of  Commodus  for  gladiatorial 
combats,  of  Antoninus  for  chariot-driving,  and  the 
like) ;  which  nevertheless  they  esteemed  more  of  than 
of  the  whole  abundance  of  sensual  pleasures ;  so  much 
pleasanter  is  it  to  be  doing  than  to  be  enjoying. 

But  here  it  must  be  more  carefully  observed,  that 
this  active  individual  good  has  no  identity  with  tho 
good  of  society,  though  in  some  case  it  has  an  inci- 
dence into  it :  for  although  it  many  times  produces  and 
brings  forth  acts  of  beneficence  (which  is  a  virtue  of 
communion),  yet  there  is  this  difference,  that  these 
acts  are  mostly  done  not  with  a  view  to  the  benefit 

1  Seneca,  Ep.  77.  2  Seneca,  Ep.  95. 

8  Cf.  Prov.  xviii.  1. 


204         TRANSLATION  OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

and  happiness  of  others,  but  to  a  man's  own  power 
and  greatness ;  as  plainly  appears  when  this  kind  of 
active  good  strikes  on  a  subject  contrary  to  the  good 
of  society.  For  that  gigantean  state  of  mind,  which 
possesses  the  troublers  of  the  world  (such  as  was 
Lucius  Sylla,  and  infinite  others  in  smaller  model, 
who  are  bent  on  having  all  men  happy  or  unhappy 
as  they  are  their  friends  or  enemies,  and  would  shape 
the  world  according  to  their  own  humours,  which  is 
the  true  Theomachy),  this  I  say  aspires  to  the  active 
good  of  the  individual  (apparent  good  at  least),  though 
it  recedes  farthest  of  all  from  the  good  of  society. 

But  Passive  good  is  subdivided  into  Conservative  and 
Perfective.  For  there  is  impressed  on  all  things  a  triple 
desire  or  appetite,  in  respect  of  self  or  individual  good  ; 
one  of  preserving,  another  of  perfecting,  and  a  third 
of  multiplying  and  spreading  themselves :  whereof  the 
last  is  that  which  we  have  just  handled  by  the  name 
of  "  Active  good,"  so  that  there  remain  only  the  two 
other  goods  which  we  have  mentioned ;  whereof  that 
of  perfecting  is  the  highest ;  for  to  preserve  a  thing  in 
its  existing  state  is  the  less,  to  raise  the  same  to  a 
higher  nature  is  the  greater.  For  in  all  things  there 
are  some  nobler  natures  to  the  dignity  and  excellence 
whereof  inferior  natures  aspire  as  to  their  sources  and 
origins.  So  it  was  not  unfitly  said  of  men  "  that  they 
have  a  fiery  vigour  and  a  heavenly  origin," 1  for  the 
assumption  or  approach  of  man  to  the  Divine  or  An- 
gelical nature  is  the  perfection  of  his  form  ;  the  false 
and  preposterous  imitation  of  which  perfective  good  is 
the  very  plague  and  stormy  whirlwind  of  human  life, 

1  Virg.  &Q.  vi.  7.  30.:  — 

Igneus  est  ollis  vigor  et  coelestis  origo. 


THE    SEVENTH    BOOK.  205 

which  carries  off  and  destroys  everything ;  while  men 
upon  the  instinct  of  an  advancement  formal  and  essen- 
tial are  carried  by  a  blind  ambition  to  seek  an  advance- 
ment merely  local.  For  as  those  who  are  sick,  and 
find  no  remedy,  tumble  up  and  down  and  change 
place,  as  if  by  a  remove  local  they  could  obtain  a  re- 
move internal,  and  get  away  from  themselves  and  from 
the  disease  that  is  within  them ;  so  is  it  in  ambition, 
when  men  possessed  by  a  false  idea  of  exalting  their 
nature  obtain  nothing  else  but  an  eminence  and  exal- 
tation of  place. 

The  good  of  conservation  consists  in  the  reception 
and  fruition  of  that  which  is  agreeable  to  our  natures 
which,  though  it  seems  to  be  the  most  pure  and  nat 
ural  of  pleasures,  is  yet  the  softest  and  the  lowest. 
And  this  also  receives  a  difference,  which  has  in  part 
been  weakly  judged,  in  part  not  examined  ;  for  the 
good  of  fruition,  or  (as  it  is  commonly  termed)  pleas- 
ure, is  placed  either  in  the  sincerity  of  the  fruition,  or 
in  the  vigour  of  it ;  the  one  of  which  is  the  result 
of  equality  ;  the  other  of  variety  and  vicissitude  ;  the 
one  having  less  mixture  of  evil,  the  other  a  stronger 
and  more  lively  impression  of  good.  Which  of  these 
is  the  greater  good,  is  a  question  controverted,  but 
whether  man's  nature  may  not  be  capable  of  both  is 
a  question  not  inquired.  The  former  question  being 
debated  in  a  dispute  between  Socrates  and  a  sophist, 
Socrates  placing  felicity  in  an  equal  and  constant  peace 
of  mind,  and  the  sophist  in  much  desiring  and  much 
enjoying,  they  fell  from  arguments  to  ill  words ;  the 
sophist  saying  that  "  Socrates's  felicity  was  the  felicity 
of  a  block  or  stone,"  l  and  Socrates  saying,  "  that  the 

1  Plato,  Gorgias,  p.  494. 


206          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

sophist's  felicity  was  the  felicity  of  one  that  had  the 
itch,  who  did  nothing  but  itch  and  scratch."  Ariel  both 
these  opinions  do  not  want  their  supports ;  for  the 
opinion  of  Socrates  is  much  upheld  by  the  general 
consent  even  of  the  Epicureans,  who  did  not  deny  that 
virtue  bears  a  great  part  in  felicity ;  and  if  so,  certain 
it  is,  that  virtue  has  more  use  in  clearing  perturbations, 
than  in  compassing  desires.  But  the  sophist's  opinion 
is  somewhat  favoured  by  the  assertion  we  last  spoke  of, 
"  that  good  of  advancement  is  greater  than  good  of 
simple  preservation,"  because  every  obtaining  a  desire 
has  a  show  of  advancing  nature  towards  perfection  ; 
which  though  it  be  not  really  the  case,  yet  motion 
even  in  a  circle  has  a  show  of  progression. 

But  the  second  question  (as  to  whether  a  man's  na- 
ture may  not  be  capable  of  tranquillity  of  mind  and 
vigour  of  fruition  both),  decided  in  the  true  way, 
makes  the  former  superfluous.  For  do  we  not  often 
see  some  minds  so  constituted,  as  to  take  the  greatest 
delight  in  enjoying  pleasures  when  present,  and  yet 
nevertheless  little  annoyed  at  the  loss  and  leaving  of 
them  ?  so  that  the  philosophical  progression  ;  "  Enjoy 
not,  that  you  may  not  desire  ;  desire  not,  that  you  may 
not  fear ;  "  is  the  precaution  of  cowardice  and  pusil- 
lanimity. And  indeed  most  of  the  doctrines  of  the 
philosophers  seem  to  me  to  be  more  fearful  and  cau- 
tionary than  the  nature  of  things  requires  :  thus  they 
increase  the  fear  of  death  in  offering  to  cure  it ;  for 
when  they  would  have  a  man's  whole  life  to  be  but  a 
discipline  or  preparation  to  die,  they  must  needs  make 
men  think  that  it  is  a  terrible  enemy,  against  whom 
there  is  no  end  of  preparing.  Better  says  the  poet 
(for  a  heathen)  :  — 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  207 

Fortem  posce  animum  mortis  terrore  carentem 
Qui  finem  vitae  extremum  inter  munera  ponat 
Nature.1 

So  have  philosophers  sought  in  all  things  to  make 
men's  minds  too  uniform  and  harmonical,  not  breakincr 

*  ™ 

them  to  contrary  motions  and  extremes ;  the  reason 
whereof  I  suppose  to  be,  because  they  themselves  were 
men  dedicated  to  a  private  life,  free  from  business  and 
from  the  necessity  of  applying  themselves  to  other 
duties.  But  men  should  rather  imitate  the  wisdom  of 
jewellers,  who,  if  there  be  a  grain  or  a  cloud  or  an 
ice  in  a  jewel,  which  may  be  ground  forth  without  tak- 
ing too  much  of  the  stone,  they  remove  it :  otherwise 
they  will  not  meddle  with  it.  And  in  like  manner 
men  ought  so  to  procure  serenity,  as  they  destroy  not 
magnanimity.  And  so  much  for  Individual  good. 

Having,  therefore,  discussed  self-good  (which  we  also 
term  "Private"  "Particular"  and  "Individual" 
good),  let  us  resume  the  good  of  communion,  which 
respects  and  beholds  society,  which  we  may  term 
Duty :  because  the  term  of  duty  is  more  proper  to  a 
mind  well  framed  and  disposed  towards  others,  as  the 
term  of  virtue  is  applied  to  a  mind  well  formed  and 
composed  in  itself.  This  part  may  seem  at  first  glance 
to  pertain  to  science  civil  and  politic,  but  not  if  it  be 
well  observed ;  for  it  concerns  the  regimen  and  govern- 
ment of  every  man  over  himself,  and  not  over  others. 
And  as  in  architecture  it  is  one  thing  to  direct  the  fram- 
ing the  posts,  beams,  and  other  parts  of  the  building, 
and  another  thing  to  join  and  fasten  them ;  and  as  in 


Give  me  a  soul  which  can  grim  death  defy, 
And  count  it  Nature's  privilege  to  die. 


208         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

mechanics  it  is  one  thing  to  direct  how  to  frame  an 
instrument  or  engine,  and  another  to  set  it  on  work 
and  employ  it ;  so  the  doctrine  of  the  conjugation  of 
men  in  the  state  or  society,  differs  from  that  which 
teaches  them  to  conform  and  be  well-disposed  to  the 
advantages  thereof. 

This  part  of  duty  is  likewise  subdivided  into  two 
parts ;  whereof  the  one  treats  of  "  the  common  duty 
of  every  man "  as  a  member  of  a  state ;  the  other 
treats  of  "  the  respective  or  special  duties  of  every 
man,  in  his  profession,  vocation,  rank  and  character." 
The  first  of  these  is  extant,  and  well  laboiired,  as  has 
been  said  ;  the  second  likewise  I  may  report  as  handled 
dispersedly,  though  not  digested  into  an  entire  body  of 
science  ;  not  that  I  object  to  this  manner  of  dispersed 
writing,  which  on  the  contrary  in  this  kind  of  argu- 
ment I  acknowledge  to  be  best.  For  who  is  there 
with  such  clearness  or  confidence  that  he  can  take 
upon  him  to  write  skilfully  and  accurately  of  the  proper 
and  relative  duty  of  every  several  vocation  and  place  ? 
But  treatises  on  matters  of  this  kind  which  do  not 
savour  of  experience,  but  are  only  drawn  from  a  gen- 
eral scholastic  knowledge  of  the  subject,  are  for  the 
most  part  empty  and  unprofitable.  For  although  some- 
times a  looker  on  may  see  more  than  a  player,  and 
there  be  a  proverb  more  arrogant  than  sound,  concern- 
ing the  censure  of  the  people  on  the  actions  of  their 
superiors,  "  That  the  vale  best  discovers  the  hill ; "  yet 
it  were  much  to  be  wished  that  only  men  of  most  prac- 
tice and  experience  should  meddle  with  such  argu- 
ments ;  for  the  writing  of  speculative  men  on  active 
matter  for  the  most  part  seems  to  men  of  experience, 
as  Phormio's  arguments  of  the  wars  seemed  to  Han- 


THE  SEVENTH   BOOK  209 

nibal,  to  be  but  dreams  and  dotage.1  Only  there  is 
one  vice  which  accompanies  those  who  write  on  their 
own  arts  and  professions,  that  they  cannot  refrain  from 
adorning  and  magnifying  in  excess  those  little  Sparta's 
of  theirs. 

In  which  kind  it  were  inexcusable  not  to  mention 
(honoris  causa)  your  Majesty's  excellent  book  touch- 
ing the  duties  of  a  king,  a  work  richly  compounded  of 
many  known  and  secret  treasures  of  divinity,  morality, 
and  policy,  with  great  aspersion  of  all  other  arts,  and 
being  in  my  opinion  one  of  the  most  sound  and  health- 
ful writings  that  I  have  read ;  not  distempered  in  the 
heat  of  invention,  nor  chilled  in  the  coldness  of  negli- 
gence ;  not  subject  to  fits  of  dizziness,  and  so  falling 
into  confusion  and  disorder ;  not  distracted  by  digres- 
sions, so  as  to  embrace  in  a  discursive  narrative  things 
impertinent  to  the  purpose  ;  not  savouring  of  perfumes 
and  paintings,  as  those  do,  who  attend  more  to  the 
pleasure  of  the  reader  than  the  nature  of  the  argu- 
ment ;  above  all,  being  a  book  as  good  in  spirit  as  in 
body,  since  it  is  both  agreeable  .to  truth,  and  apt  for 
action.  And  it  is  moreover  quite  free  from  that  vice 
which  I  have  noted  above  (which,  if  it  were  tolerated 
in  any,  certainly  it  would  be  so  in  a  king,  writing  of 
the  authority  of  a  king),  seeing  it  does  not  exalt  in- 
vidiously or  above  measure  the  height  and  summit  of 
kingly  power ;  for  your  Majesty  has  represented,  not  a 
king  of  Assyria,  or  Persia,  in  the  glitter  of  outward 
pride  and  glory ;  but  truly  a  Moses  or  a  David,  that  is, 
shepherds  of  their  people.  Neither  can  I  ever  forget 
the  observation  so  truly  worthy  of  a  king,  which  your 
Majesty  delivered,  in  the  same  sacred  spirit  of  govern- 

i  Cic.  de  Orat.  lib.  ii.  18. 
14 


210         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ment,  in  deciding  a  great  cause  of  judicature ;  which 
was,  "  That  kings  ruled  by  the  laws  of  their  kingdoms, 
as  God  did  by  the  laws  of  Nature,  and  ought  as  rarely 
to  put  in  use  their  supreme  prerogative,  as  God  does  his 
power  of  working  miracles."  And  yet,  notwithstand- 
ing, in  your  other  book  of  a  free  monarchy  it  well 
appears  that  you  no  less  perceive  and  understand  the 
plenitude  of  the  power  of  a  king,  and  the  ultimities 
(as  the  schoolmen  say)  of  regal  rights,  than  the  circle 
and  bounds  of  his  office  and  duty.  Thus  have  I  pre- 
sumed to  allege  this  excellent  writing  of  your  Majesty, 
as  a  prime  or  eminent  example  of  treatises  concerning 
special  and  respective  duties ;  wherein  I  should  have 
said  as  much  if  it  had  been  written  by  any  king  a 
thousand  years  since.  Nor  am  I  moved  with  that  rule 
of  manners  which  is  usually  laid  down,  "  that  one 
should  not  praise  in  presence ; "  provided  that  the 
praise  be  not  beyond  the  truth,  and  bestowed  unsea- 
sonably, or  without  occasion.  Surely  Cicero,  in  that 
brilliant  oration  for  Marcellus,  was  but  exhibiting  an 
excellent  picture  of  Caesar's  praises,  though  he  was 
speaking  before  his  face.  And  the  like  did  Pliny  the 
younger  to  Trajan. 

But  to  return  to  our  purpose.  There  belongs  fur- 
ther to  the  handling  of  this  part,  touching  the  respec- 
tive duties  of  vocations  and  professions,  a  relative  or 
opposite  doctrine  touching  the  frauds,  cautions,  impos- 
tures, and  vices  of  every  profession ;  for  corruptions 
and  vices  are  opposed  to  duties  and  virtues.  And  it  is 
true  that  these  are  not  altogether  passed  over,  but 
there  are  many  treatises  and  writings  in  which  they 
are  touched  upon  at  least  in  passing ;  but  how  ?  rather 
in  a  satire,  and  cynically  after  the  manner  of  Lucian, 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  211 

than  seriously  and  wisely.  For  men  have  rather 
sought  by  wit  to  traduce  much  that  is  good  or  useful 
in  professions,  and  expose  it  to  ridicule,  than  to  dis- 
cover and  sever  that  which  is  vicious  and  corrupt.  But 
Solomon  says  well,  "  A  scorner  seeks  wisdom,  and  finds 
it  not,  but  knowledge  offers  itself  unto  him  that  is 
desirous  thereof;"1  for  he  who  comes  to  seek  after 
knowledge  with  a  mind  to  scorn  and  censure  will  be 
sure  to  find  matter  enough  for  his  humour,  but  very 
little  for  his  instruction.  But  the  serious  handling  of 
this  argument  with  integrity  and  sincerity  ought,  as  it 
appears  to  me,  to  be  reckoned  among  the  best  fortifica- 
tions for  honesty  and  virtue.  For  as  the  fable  goes  of 
the  basilisk,  that  if  he  see  you  first,  you  die  for  it,  but 
if  you  see  him  first,  he  dies  ;  so  is  it  with  deceits,  im- 
postures, and  evil  arts,  which,  if  they  be  first  espied, 
they  lose  their  life,  but  if  they  prevent,  they  endanger ; 
so  that  we  are  much  beholden  to  Machiavelli  and  other 
writers  of  that  class,  who  openly  and  unfeignedly  de- 
clare or  describe  what  men  do,  and  -not  what  they 
ought,  to  do.  For  it  is  not  possible  to  join  the  wisdom 
of  the  serpent  with  the  innocence  of  the  dove,  except 
men  be  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  evil 
itself ;  for  without  this,  virtue  is  open  and  unfenced  : 
nay,  a  virtuous  and  honest  man  can  do  no  good  upon 
those  that  are  wicked,  to  correct  and  reclaim  them, 
•without  first  exploring  all  the  depths  and  recesses  of 
their  malice.  For  men  of  corrupted  minds  presuppose 
that  honesty  grows  out  of  an  ignorance  or  simplicity 
of  manners,  and  believing  of  preachers,  schoolmasters, 
Docks,  moral  precepts,  common  discourses,  and  opin« 
ons  ;  so  as,  except  they  plainly  perceive  that  you  kno\v 
1  Prov.  xiv.  6. 


212    TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

as  much  of  their  corrupt  opinions  and  depraved  prin- 
ciples as  they  do  themselves,  they  despise  all  honesty 
of  manners  and  counsel ;  according  to  the  excellent 
proverb  of  Solomon,  "  The  fool  receives  not  the  word 
of  the  wise,  unless  thou  speakest  the  very  things  that 
are  in  his  heart."  l  But  this  part,  touching  respective 
cautions  and  vices,  we  set  down  as  deficient,  and  will 
call  it  by  the  name  of  "  Serious  Satire,"  or  the  Trea- 
tise of  the  Inner  Nature  of  Things. 

Unto  this  part,  touching  respective  duty,  do  also  ap- 
pertain the  mutual  duties  between  husband  and  wife, 
parent  and  child,  master  and  servant ;  so  likewise  the 
laws  of  friendship  and  gratitude,  the  civil  bonds  of  com- 
panies, colleges,  neighbourhood,  and  the  like  ;  but  it 
must  ever  be  kept  in  mind,  that  they  are  here  handled, 
not  as  they  are  parts  of  civil  society  (for  that  is  re- 
ferred to  policy),  but  as  to  the  framing  and  predispos- 
ing of  the  minds  of  particular  persons  towards  the  pres- 
ervation of  those  bonds  of  society. 

The  knowledge  concerning  good  respecting  Society 
(as  well  as  that  which  respects  Individual  good)  handles 
it  not  simply  alone,  but  comparatively  ;  whereunto  be- 
longs the  weighing  of  duties  between  person  and  per- 
son, case  and  case,  particular  and  public,  present  and 
future  ;  as  we  see  in  the  stern  and  severe  proceeding  of 
Lucius  Brutus  against  his  own  sons,  how  it  was  gen- 
erally extolled  to  the  sky ;  and  yet  what  did  another 
say  of  it  ?  "  It  was  an  unhappy  deed,  whatever  pos- 
terity might  say  of  it."2 

And  we  see  the  same  in  that  supper  to  which  Mar- 
cus Brutus,  Caius  Cassius,  and  others  were  invited. 

1  Prov.  xviii.  2. 

9  Virg.  jEn.  vi.  823. :    Infelix,  utcuraque  ferent  ea  facta  minores. 


THE  SEVENTH   BOOK.  213 

When  to  make  trial  of  their  opinions  touching  the 
intended  murder  of  Caesar,  the  question  was  cunningly 
raised,  "whether  the  killing  of  a  tyrant  were  lawful," 
they  were  divided  in  opinion ;  some  holding  that  it 
was  clearly  lawful,  for  servitude  was  the  extreme  of 
evils ;  others,  not  so,  for  tyranny  was  better  than  a 
civil  war ;  while  a  third  set  affirmed,  according  to  the 
doctrine  of  Epicurus,  that  it  was  unfit  for  wise  men  to 
endanger  themselves  in  the  cause  of  fools.1  But  there 
are  a  number  of  like  cases  of  comparative  duties  ; 
amongst  which,  that  is  most  frequent  where  the  ques- 
tion is,  whether  injustice  may  be  committed  in  order 
to  save  one's  country,  or  for  some  great  future  advan- 
tage of  that  kind ;  touching  which,  Jason  of  Thessaly 
used  to  say,  "  Some  things  must  be  done  unjustly,  that 
many  may  be  done  justly."  2  But  the  reply  is  good ; 
"  Present  justice  is  in  your  power,  for  that  which  is  to 
come  you  have  no  security."  Men  must  pursue  things 
which  are  good  and  just  at  present,  leaving  the  future 
to  the  Divine  Providence.  And  so  much  for  the 
knowledge  touching  the  exemplar  and  description  of 
good. 

i  Plutarch  in  Brut  2  Plut.  Eeip.  ger.  Princip.  817. 


214          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 


CHAP.    III. 

The  Division  of  the  Doctrine  concerning  the  Culture  of 
the  Mind,  into  the  Doctrine  concerning  the  Characters 
of  the  Mind,  the  Affections,  and  the  Remedies  or 
Cares. — An  Appendix  of  this  same  Doctrine,  touch- 
ing the  Congruity  between  the  Crood  of  the  Mind  and 
the  G-ood  of  the  Body. 

Now  therefore  that  I  have  spoken  of  the  fruit  of 
life  (understanding  it  in  a  philosophical  sense),  it  re- 
mains to  speak  of  the  husbandry  which  belongs  there- 
to ;  without  which  the  former  part  seems  to  be  no  bet- 
ter than  a  fair  image  or  statue,  which  is  beautiful  to 
contemplate,  but  is  without  life  and  motion  ;  whereunto 
Aristotle  eloquently  subscribes  in  these  words,  "  It  is 
necessary  then  to  speak  of  virtue,  both  what  it  is,  and 
whence  it  proceeds,  for  it  were  almost  useless  to  know 
what  virtue  is,  but  to  be  ignorant  of  the  ways  and 
means  of  acquiring  it ;  therefore  we  must  inquire  not 
only  to  what  kind  virtue  belongs,  but  also  how  it  may 
be  obtained ;  for  we  wish  both  to  be  acquainted  with 
the  thing  itself,  and  to  gain  possession  of  it ;  wherein 
we  shall  not  fully  succeed,  unless  we  know  both  the 
whence  and  the  how."  l  In  such  express  words  and 
with  such  iteration  does  he  inculcate  this  part,  although 
he  does  not  himself  pursue  it.  This  likewise  it  is 
which  Cicero  bestows  on  Cato  the  younger  as  no  ordi- 
nary praise  ;  that  he  had  applied  himself  to  philosophy, 
"  not  for  the  sake  of  disputing  as  most  do,  but  for  the 
sake  of  living  according  to  its  rules."2  And  although 
through  the  negligence  of  our  times,  wherein  few  men 
take  any  care  touching  the  cultivation  and  disposition 
1  Magn.  Mor.  lib.  i.  1.  a  Pro  Muraena,  c.  30. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  215 

of  the  mind,  and  the  framing  of  their  life  to  any  fixed 
rule,  (as  Seneca 1  excellently  says,  "  Everyone  takes 
thought  about  the  parts  of  life,  no  one  about  the 
whole  :  ")  this  part  may  seem  superfluous,  yet  I  will 
not  on  that  account  pass  it  by  untouched,  but  rathei 
conclude  with  that  aphorism  of  Hippocrates,  "  That 
they  who  are  sick  and  feel  no  pain  are  sick  in  their 
mind  ;  "  2  they  need  medicine  not  only  to  assuage  the 
disease,  but  to  awake  the  sense.  And  if  it  be  objected 
that  the  cure  of  men's  minds  belongs  to  sacred  divinity, 
it  is  most  time ;  but  yet  moral  philosophy  may  be  ad- 
mitted into  the  train  of  theology,  as  a  wise  servant  and 
faithful  handmaid  to  be  ready  at  her  beck  to  minister 
to  her  service  and  requirements.  For  as  the  Psalm 
says,  "  That  the  eyes  of  the  handmaid  look  perpetually 
to  the  hands  of  her  mistress,"  3  and  yet  no  doubt  many 
things  are  left  to  the  care  and  discretion  of  the  hand- 
maid; so  ought  moral  philosophy  to  give  a  constant 
attention  to  the  doctrines  of  divinity,  and  be  obedient 
to  them,  and  yet  so  as  it  may  yield  of  itself  within  its 
own  limits  many  sound  and  profitable  directions. 

This  part  therefore,  when  I  recall  the  excellency 
thereof,  I  cannot  but  find  exceeding  strange  that  it  is 
not  yet  reduced  to  written  inquiry.  Wherefore  seeing 
I  set  it  down  among  the  deficients,  I  will  according  to 
my  custom  sketch  out  some  of  the  heads  and  points 
thereof. 

First  therefore  in  this,  as  in  all  things  which  are 
practical,  we  ought  to  cast  up  our  account  what  is  in 
our  power  and  what  not ;  for  the  one  may  be  dealt 
with  by  way  of  alteration,  but  the  other  by  way  of 
application  only.  The  husbandman  cannot  command 
1  Sen.  Ep.  71.  2  Aph.  ii.  6.  8  Ps^lm  cxxiii.  2. 


216          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

either  the  nature  of  the  soil  or  the  seasons  of  the 
weather ;  no  more  can  the  physician  either  the  natural 
temper  and  constitution  of  the  patient,  or  the  variety 
of  accidents.  Now  in  the  culture  of  the  mind  and  the 
cure  for  its  diseases  three  things  are  to  be  considered  : 
the  different  characters  of  dispositions,  the  affections, 
and  the  remedies ;  just  as  in  the  treatment  of  the  body 
three  things  are  observed ;  the  complexion  or  constitu- 
tion of  the  sick  man,  the  disease,  and  the  cure ;  but 
of  these  three,  only  the  last  is  in  our  power,  the  two 
former  are  not.  Yet  the  inquiry  into  things  beyond 
our  power  ought  to  be  as  careful  as  into  those  within 
it ;  for  the  exact  and  distinct  knowledge  thereof  is  the 
groundwork  of  the  doctrine  of  remedies,  that  they  may 
be  more  conveniently  and  successfully  applied ;  and 
we  cannot  fit  a  garment,  except  we  first  take  meas- 
ure of  the  body. 

So  then  the  first  article  of  this  knowledge  is  con- 
cerned with  the  different  characters  of  natures  and 
dispositions.  And  we  are  not  here  speaking  of  the 
common  inclinations  either  to  virtues  and  vices,  or  to 
disorders  and  passions,  but  of  those  which  are  more 
profound  and  radical.  And  in  truth  I  cannot  some- 
times but  wonder  that  this  part  of  knowledge  should 
for  the  most  part  be  omitted  both  in  Morality  and 
Policy,  considering  it  might  shed  such  a  ray  of  light 
on  both  sciences.  In  the  traditions  of  astrology  men's 
natures  and  dispositions  are  not  unaptly  distinguished 
according  to  the  predominances  of  the  planets ;  for 
some  are  naturally  formed  for  contemplation,  others 
for  business,  others  for  war,  others  for  advancement  of 
fortime,  others  for  love,  others  for  the  arts,  others  for 
a  varied  kind  of  life  ;  so  among  the  poets  (heroic, 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  217 

satiric,  tragic,  comic)  are  everywhere  interspersed 
representations  of  characters,  though  generally  exag- 
gerated and  surpassing  the  truth.  And  this  argument 
touching  the  different  characters  of  dispositions,  is  one 
of  those  subjects  in  which  the  common  discourse  of 
men  (as  sometimes  though  very  rarely  happens)  is 
wiser  than  books.  But  far  the  best  provision  and  ma- 
terial for  this  treatise  is  to  be  gained  from  the  wiser 
sort  of  historians,  not  only  from  the  commemorations 
which  they  commonly  add  on  recording  the  deaths  of 
illustrious  persons,  but  much  more  from  the  entire 
body  of  history  as  often  as  such  a  person  enters  upon 
the  stage ;  for  a  character  so  worked  into  the  narrative 
gives  a  better  idea  of  the  man,  than  any  formal  criti- 
cism and  review  can ;  such  is  that  of  Africanus  and 
Cato  the  Elder  in  Livy,  of  Tiberius,  and  Claudius,  and 
Nero  in  Tacitus,  of  Septimius  Severus  in  Herodian,  of 
Louis  XI.,  King  of  France,  in  Philip  de  Comines,  of 
Ferdinand  of  Spain,  the  Caesar  Maximilian,  and  the 
Popes  Leo  and  Clement  in  Francesco  Guicciardini. 
For  these  writers,  having  the  images  of  those  persons 
whom  they  have  selected  to  describe  constantly  before 
their  eyes,  hardly  ever  make  mention  of  any  of  their 
actions  without  inserting  something  concerning  their 
nature.  So  some  of  the  relations  which  I  have  met 
with  touching  the  conclaves  of  the  popes,  present 
good  characters  of  the  Cardinals ;  as  the  letters  of 
ambassadors  do  likewise  of  the  councillors  of  princes. 
Wherefore  out  of  these  materials  (which  are  surely 
rich  and  abundant)  let  a  full  and  careful  treatise  be 
constructed.  Not  however  that  I  would  have  these 
characters  presented  in  ethics  (as  we  find  them  in 
history  or  poetry  or  even  in  common  discourse),  in 


218         TRANSLATION  OF  THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

the  shape  of  complete  individual  portraits,  but  rather 
the  several  features  and  simple  lineaments  of  which 
they  are  composed,  and  by  the  various  combinations 
and  arrangements  of  which  all  characters  whatever 
are  made  up,  showing  how  many,  and  of  what  nature 
these  are,  and  how  connected  and  subordinate  one  to 
another ;  that  so  we  may  have  a  scientific  and  accurate 
dissection  of  minds  and  characters,  and  the  secret  dis- 
positions of  particular  men  may  be  revealed ;  and  that 
from  the  knowledge  thereof  better  rules  may  be  framed 
for  the  treatment  of  the  mind. 

And  not  only  should  the  characters  of  dispositions 
which  are  impressed  by  nature  be  received  into  this 
treatise,  but  those  also  which  are  imposed  on  the  mind 
by  sex,  by  age,  by  region,  by  health  and  sickness,  by 
beauty  and  deformity,  and  the  like  ;  arid  again,  those 
which  are  caused  by  fortune,  as  sovereignty,  nobility, 
obscure  birth,  riches,  want,  magistracy,  privateness, 
prosperity,  adversity,  and  the  like.  For  we  see  that 
Plautus  makes  it  a  wonder  to  see  an  old  man  benef- 
icent, "  His  beneficence  is  that  of  a  young  man." l 
St.  Paul  advising  that  severity  of  discipline  should  be 
used  towards  the  Cretans  ("  Reproach  them  severe- 
ly "),  accuses  the  disposition  of  their  country ;  citing 
the  poet's  censure,  "  the  Cretans  are  always  liars,  evil 
beasts,  slow  bellies."  2  Sallust  notes  that  it  is  usual 
with  kings  to  desire  contradictories,  "  the  desires  of 
kings,  as  they  are  violent,  so  ai'e  they  generally  change- 
able and  often  contrary  to  themselves."3  Tacitus  ob- 
serves that  honours  and  fortune  more  often  alter  men's 
dispositions  to  the  worse  than  to  the  better ;  "  Ves- 

i  Mil.  Glor.  iii.  1.  40.  2  Ep.  Tit.  i.  12. 

8  In  Jugurth.  c.  113. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  219 

pasian  alone  was  changed  for  the  better."  l  Pindar 
makes  the  observation  that  great  and  sudden  good 
fortune  for  the  most  part  defeats  and  enervates  men's 
minds.  "  There  be,  that  are  not  able  to  digest  great 
prosperity."2  The  Psalm  shows  it  is  more  easy  to 
keep  a  measure  in  the  enjoying  of  fortune,  than  in  the 
increase  thereof,  "If  riches  increase,  set  not  your 
heart  upon  them."  3  These  observations  and  the  like 
I  deny  not  but  are  touched  a  little  by  Aristotle  in  his 
Rhetoric,  and  here  and  there  in  some  other  men's 
writings,  but  they  have  never  been  incorporated  into 
moral  philosophy,  to  which  they  principally  appertain  ; 
no  less  than  the  knowledge  of  the  diversity  of  grounds 
and  moulds  does  to  agriculture,  and  the  knowledge  of 
the  diversity  of  complexions  and  constitutions  does  to 
medicine.  It  should  be  done  however  now,  except  we 
mean  to  follow  the  indiscretion  of  empirics,  who  minis- 
ter the  same  medicines  to  all  patients  of  every  con- 
stitution. 

Next  in  order  is  the  knowledge  touching  the  affections 
and  perturbations,  which  are,  as  I  have  said,  the  dis- 
eases of  the  mind.  For  as  the  ancient  politicians  in 
popular  states  were  wont  to  compare  the  people  to  the 
sea,  and  the  orators  to  the  winds  ;  because  as  the  sea 
would  of  itself  be  calm  and  quiet,  if  the  winds  did  not 
move  and  trouble  it ;  so  the  people  would  be  peaceable 
and  tractable  if  the  seditious  orators  did  not  set  them 
in  working  and  agitation :  4  so  it  may  be  fitly  said,  that 
the  mind  in  its  own  nature  would  be  temperate  and 
staid  ;  if  the  affections,  as  winds,  did  not  put  it  into 
tumult  and  perturbation.  And  here  again  I  find  it 

1  Tac.  Hist.  i.  50.  «  Psalm  Ixii.  10. 

2  Cf.  Find.  Olymp.  i.  88.  *  Cicero  Pro  Cluent.  c.  49. 


220         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

strange,  that  Aristotle  should  have  written  divers  vol- 
umes of  ethics,  and  never  handled  the  affections,  as  a 
principal  portion  thereof;  yet  in  his  Rhetoric,  where 
they  are  considered  but  collaterally  and  in  a  second 
degree  (as  they  may  be  moved  and  excited  by 
speech),  he  finds  a  place  for  them,  and  handles  them 
acutely  and  well,  for  the  quantity  thereof.  For  it 
is  not  his  disputations  about  pleasure  and  pain  that 
can  satisfy  this  inquiry :  no  more  than  he  who  should 
generally  handle  the  nature  of  light  can  be  said  to 
handle  the  nature  of  particular  colours ;  for  pleasure 
and  pain  are  to  the  particular  affections,  as  light  is  to 
particular  colours.  Better  .  pains,  I  suppose,  had  the 
Stoics  taken  in  this  argument,  as  far  as  I  can  gather  by 
that  which  remains  of  them  ;  but  yet  I  conceive  it  was 
rather  in  subtlety  of  definitions  than  in  any  full  and 
ample  description.  So  likewise  I  find  some  particular 
writings  of  an  elegant  nature,  touching  some  of  the 
affections,  as  of  anger,  of  tenderness  of  countenance, 
and  some  few  others.  But  to  speak  the  real  truth,  the 
poets  and  writers  of  history  are  the  best  doctors  of  this 
knowledge,  where  we  may  find  painted  forth  with 
great  life  and  dissected,  how  affections  are  kindled  and 
excited,  and  how  pacified  and  restrained,  and  how 
again  contained  from  act  and  further  degree ;  how  they 
disclose  themselves,  though  repressed  and  concealed  ; 
how  they  work ;  how  they  vary ;  how  they  are  en- 
wrapped one  within  another ;  how  they  fight  and  en- 
counter one  with  another  ;  and  many  other  particular- 
ities of  this  kind  ;  amongst  which  this  last  is  of  special 
use  in  moral  and  civil  matters ;  how,  I  say,  to  set  affec- 
tion against  affection,  and  to  use  the  aid  of  one  to  mas- 
ter another ;  like  hunters  and  fowlers  who  use  to  hunt 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  221 

beast  with  beast,  and  catch  bird  with  bird,  which  other- 
wise perhaps  without  their  aid  man  of  himself  could 
not  so  easily  contrive  ;  upon  which  foundation  is  erected 
that  excellent  and  general  use  in  civil  government  of 
reward  and  punishment,  whereon  commonwealths  lean  ; 
seeing  those  predominant  affections  of  fear  and  hope 
suppress  and  bridle  all  the  rest.  For  as  in  the  govern- 
ment of  states  it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  bridle  one 
faction  with  another,  so  it  is  in  the  internal  government 
of  the  mind. 

I  now  come  to  those  points  which  are  within  our 
own  command,  and  have  operation  on  the  mind  to 
affect  and  influence  the  will  and  appetite,  and  so  have 
great  power  in  altering  manners  ;  wherein  philosophers 
ought  carefully  and  actively  to  have  inquired  of  the 
strength  and  energy  of  custom,  exercise,  habit,  educa- 
tion, imitation,  emulation,  company,  friendship,  praise, 
reproof,  exhortation,  fame,  laws,  books,  studies,  and 
the  like.  For  these  are  the  things  that  rule  in  morals ; 
these  the  agents  by  which  the  mind  is  affected  and  dis- 
posed ;  and  the  ingredients  of  which  are  compounded 
the  medicines  to  preserve  or  recover  the  health  of  the 
mind,  as  far  as  it  can  be  done  by  human  remedies ; 
of  which  number  I  will  select  some  one  or  two,  upon 
which  to  insist,  as  patterns  of  the  rest.  I  will  there- 
fore make  a  few  observations  on  Custom  and  Habit. 

The  opinion  of  Aristotle  seems  to  me  to  savour  of 
negligence  and  narrowness  of  contemplation,  when  he 
asserts  that  custom  has  no  power  over  those  actions 
which  are  natural ;  using  for  example,  "  that  if  a  stone 
be  thrown  up  a  thousand  times,  it  will  not  learn  to 
ascend  of  itself;  and  that  by  often  seeing  or  hearing 
we  do  not  learn  to  see  or  hear  the  better."  1  For 

i  Nic.  Eth.  ii.  1. 


222         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

though  this  principle  be  true  in  some  things,  wherein 
nature  is  peremptory  (the  reasons  whereof  we  have 
not  now  leisure  to  discuss),  yet  it  is  otherwise  in  things 
wherein  nature  admits,  within  certain  limits,  intension 
and  remission.  For  he  might  see  that  a  tight  glove 
will  come  on  more  easily  with  use  ;  that  a  wand  by  use 
and  continuance  will  be  bent  contrary  to  its  natural 
growth,  and  after  a  while  will  continue  in  the  same 
position  ;  that  by  use  of  the  voice  it  becomes  stronger 
and  louder ;  that  by  custom  we  can  better  bear  heat 
and  cold,  and  the  like  ;  which  two  latter  examples  have 
a  nearer  resemblance  to  the  subject,  than  those  in- 
stances which  he  alleges.  But  however  it  be,  the  more 
true  it  is  that  virtues  and  vices  consist  in  habit,  he 
ought  so  much  the  more  to  have  taught  the  rules  for 
acquiring  or  removing  that  habit ;  for  there  may  be 
many  precepts  for  the  wise  ordering  of  the  exercises 
of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of  the  body ;  whereof  I  will 
recite  a  few. 

The  first  shall  be,  that  we  beware  we  take  not  at 
the  first  either  a  greater  or  a  smaller  task  than  the 
case  requires.  For  if  too  great  a  burden  be  imposed, 
in  a  diffident  nature  you  discourage  ;  in  a  confident 
nature  you  breed  an  opinion,  whereby  a  man  promises 
to  himself  more  than  he  is  able  to  perform,  which  pro- 
duces sloth ;  and  in  both  these  natures  the  trial  will 
fail  to  satisfy  the  expectation,  a  thing  which  ever  dis- 
courages and  confounds  the  mind.  But  if  the  tasks 
be  too  weak,  progress  will  be  much  retarded. 

The  second  precept  shall  be,  that  to  practise  any 
faculty  by  which  a  habit  may  be  acquired,  two  several 
times  should  be  observed ;  the  one,  when  the  mind  is 
oest  disposed,  the  other  when  it  is  worst  disposed ;  that 


THE   SEVENTH   BOOK.  223 

by  the  one,  you  may  gain  a  great  step,  by  the  other, 
you  may  through  strenuous  exertion  work  out  the 
knots  and  obstacles  of  the  mind,  and  so  make  the 
middle  times  the  more  easy  and  pleasant. 

The  third  precept  shall  be  that  which  Aristotle  men- 
tions by  the  way.  "  To  bear  ever  with  all  our  strength, 
so  it  be  without  vice,  towards  the  contrary  extreme  of 
that  whereunto  we  are  by  nature  inclined;"1  as  when 
we  row  against  the  stream,  or  straighten  a  wand  by 
bending  it  contrary  to  its  natural  crookedness. 

The  fourth  precept  depends  on  that  axiom,  which  is 
most  true ;  that  the  mind  is  brought  to  anything  with 
more  sweetness  and  happiness,  if  that  whereunto  you 
pretend  be  not  first  in  the  intention,  but  be  obtained 
as  it  were  by  the  way  while  you  are  attending  to  some- 
thing else ;  because  of  the  natural  hatred  of  the  mind 
against  necessity  and  constraint.  Many  other  useful 
precepts  there  are,  touching  the  regulation  of  custom ; 
for  custom  wisely  and  skilfully  conducted  proves  in- 
deed, according  to  the  saying,  a  second  nature ;  but 
governed  unskilfully  and  by  chance  it  will  be  but  an 
ape  of  nature,  imitating  nothing  to  the  life,  but  bring- 
ing forth  only  that  which  is  lame  and  counterfeit. 

So,  if  we  should  handle  books  and  studies  and  what 
influence  and  operation  they  should  have  upon  man- 
ners, are  there  not  divers  precepts  and  directions  of 
great  profit  appertaining  thereunto  ?  Did  not  one  of 
the  fathers,2  in  great  indignation  call  poesy  "  the  wine 
of  demons,"  because  it  engenders  temptations,  desires, 
and  vain  opinions  ?  Is  not  the  opinion  of  Aristotle 
very  wise  and  worthy  to  be  regarded,  "  that  young 

1  Xic.  Eth.  ii.  9. 

2  St.  Augustine.    Cf.  Agrippa  de  Incert.  c.  4. 


224         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

men  are  no  fit  auditors  of  moral  philosophy,"1  because 
the  boiling  heat  of  their  affections  is  not  yet  settled, 
nor  tempered  with  time  and  experience  ?  And  to  say 
the  truth,  does  it  not  hereof  come  that  those  excellent 
books  and  discourses  of  the  ancient  writers  (whereby 
they  have  persuaded  unto  virtue  most  effectually  by 
representing  her  in  state  and  majesty,  and  popular 
opinions  against  virtue  as  clad  in  parasites'  cloaks,  fit 
to  be  scorned  and  derided)  are  of  so  little  effect  towards 
honesty  of  life  and  amendment  of  evil  manners,  be- 
cause they  are  not  read  and  revolved  by  men  in  their 
mature  and  settled  years,  but  confined  almost  to  boys 
and  beginners.  But  is  it  not  true  also  that  much  less 
are  young  men  fit  auditors  of  matters  of  policy,  till 
they  have  been  thoroughly  seasoned  in  religion,  mo- 
rality, and  duty,  lest  their  judgments  be  corrupted 
and  made  apt  to  think  that  there  are  no  true  and  real 
differences  of  things ;  but  all  things  are  to  be  meas- 
ured by  utility  and  fortune ;  as  the  poet  says :  — 

Prosperum  et  felix  scelus  virtus  vocatur;2 

and  again, 

Ille  crucem  pretium  sceleris  tulit,  hie  diadema;8 

which  the  poets  speak  satirically  and  in  indignation, 
but  some  books  of  policy  speak  seriously  and  posi- 
tively. For  so  it  pleases  Machiavelli4  to  say,  "  That 
if  Caesar  had  been  overthrown,  he  would  have  been 

1  Nic.  Eth.  i.  1. 

2  Senec.  Here.  Fur.  251. :  — 

Successful  guilt  will  borrow  virtue's  name. 

*  Juv.  xiii.  105. :  — 

Success  is  all ;  and  for  the  self-same  thing, 
One  dies  a  felon,  the  other  lives  a  king. 

*  Mach.  Discorsi,  i.  10. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  225 

more  odious  than  ever  was  Catiline ; "  as  if  there  had 
been  no  difference  but  in  fortune  alone  between  a  very 
fury  of  lust  and  blood,  and  the  most  excellent  spirit 
(his  ambition  reserved)  of  the  unconverted  world. 
And  how  necessary  it  is  for  men  to  be  fully  imbued 
with  pious  and  moral  knowledge  before  they  take  any 
part  in  politics  we  see  from  this ;  that  they  who  are 
brought  up  from  their  infancy  in  the  courts  of  kings  and 
affairs  of  state  scarce  ever  attain  to  a  deep  and  sincere 
honesty  of  manners ;  how  much  less  chance  have  they 
then,  if  to  this  be  added  the  like  discipline  in  books? 
Again,  is  there  not  a  caution  likewise  to  be  given  of 
the  doctrines  of  moralities  themselves,  at  least  some 
kinds  of  them,  lest  they  make  men  too  precise,  arro- 
gant, and  incompatible  ?  as  Cicero  says  of  Marcus 
Cato,  "  The  divine  and  noble  qualities  we  see  in  him, 
be  sure  are  his  own ;  the  defects  which  we  sometimes 
find,  proceed  not  from  his  nature,  but  from  his  instruc- 
tors."1 Many  other  axioms  there  are  touching  those 
properties  which  studies  and  books  infuse  into  men's 
minds ;  for  the  saying  is  true,  "  that  studies  pass  into 
manners,"2  as  may  likewise  be  said  of  all  those  other 
points,  of  company,  fame,  laws,  and  the  rest,  which  I 
a  little  before  recited. 

But  there  is  a  kind  of  culture  of  the  mind,  which 
seems  yet  more  accurate  and  elaborate  than  the  rest, 
and  is  built  upon  this  ground;  that  the  minds  of  all 
men  are  at  some  times  in  a  state  more  perfect,  and  at 
other  times  in  a  state  more  depraved.  The  purpose 
therefore  and  intention  of  this  practice  is  to  cherish  the 
good  hours  of  the  mind,  and  to  obliterate  and  take 
forth  the  evil  out  of  the  calendar.  The  fixing  of  the 

1  Cic.  Pro  Mursena,  c.  29.  2  Ovid.  Epist.  xv.  83. 

VOL.    IX.  15 


226         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

good  has  been  practised  by  two  means ;  vows  or  con- 
stant resolutions  of  the  mind,  and  observances  or  exer- 
cises, which  are  not  to  be  regarded  so  much  in  them- 
selves, as  because  they  keep  the  mind  in  continual  duty 
and  obedience.  The  obliteration  of  the  evil  can  like- 
wise be  practised  by  two  means ;  some  kind  of  redemp- 
tion or  expiation  of  that  which  is  past,  and  an  inception 
or  new  account  of  life  for  the  time  to  come.  But  this 
part  seems  clearly  to  belong  to  religion,  and  justly  so ; 
for  all  true  and  sincere  moral  philosophy,  as  was  said 
before,  is  but  a  handmaid  to  religion. 

Wherefore  I  will  conclude  this  part  of  the  culture 
of  the  mind  with  that  remedy,  which  is  of  all  other 
means  the  most  compendious  and  summary ;  and  again 
the  most  noble  and  effectual  to  the  reducing  of  the 
mind  unto  virtue,  and  placing  it  in  the  state  nearest 
to  perfection  ;  which  is,  the  electing  and  propounding 
unto  a  man's  self  good  and  virtuous  ends  of  his  life  and 
actions ;  such  as  may  be  in  a  reasonable  sort  ivithin  his 
compass  to  attain.  For  if  these  two  things  be  supposed, 
that  a  man  set  before  him  honest  and  good  ends,  and 
again  that  his  mind  be  resolute  and  constant  to  pursue 
and  obtain  them,  it  will  follow  that  his  mind  shall  ad- 
dress and  mould  itself  to  all  virtues  at  once.  And  this 
indeed  is  like  the  work  of  Nature  ;  whereas  the  other 
courses  I  have  mentioned  are  like  the  work  of  the 
hand.  For  as  when  a  carver  makes  an  image,  he 
shapes  only  that  part  whereon  he  works,  and  not  the 
rest  (as  if  he  be  upon  the  face,  that  part  which  shall 
be  the  body  is  but  a  rude  and  unshaped  stone  still,  till 
such  time  as  he  comes  to  it) ;  but  contrariwise,  when 
Nature  makes  a  flower  or  living  creature,  she  forms 
and  produces  rudiments  of  all  the  parts  at  one  time ; 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  227 

so  in  obtaining  virtue  by  habit,  while  we  practise  tem- 
•  perance,  we  do  not  advance  much  in  fortitude,  nor  the 
like ;  but  when  we  dedicate  and  apply  ourselves  en- 
tirely to  good  and  honest  ends,  what  virtue  soever  the 
pursuit  and  passage  towards  those  ends  suggests  and 
enjoins,  we  shall  find  ourselves  invested  with  a  prece- 
dent disposition  and  propensity  to  conform  thereto. 
And  this  is  the  state  of  mind  excellently  described  b} 
Aristotle,  and  distinguished  by  him  as  having  a  char- 
acter not  of  virtue  but  of  divinity ;  his  words  are  these : 
*'  To  brutality  we  may  not  unaptly  oppose  that  heroic 
or  divine  virtue  which  is  above  humanity;"1  and  a 
little  after,  "  For  as  beasts  are  incapable  of  virtue  or 
vice,  so  likewise  is  the  Deity ;  for  this  latter  state  is 
something  higher  than  virtue,  as  the  former  is  some- 
what other  than  vice."  Again,  Pliny  the  younger 
using  the  license  of  heathen  grandiloquence  sets  forth 
the  virtue  of  Trajan,  not  as  an  imitation,  but  rather  as 
a  pattern  of  the  divine,  where  he  says,  "  That  men 
needed  not  to  make  any  other  prayers  to  the  gods,  but 
that  they  would  show  themselves  as  good  and  kind 
lords  to  them,  as  Trajan  had  been."2  But  these  be 
heathen  and  profane  passages,  which  grasp  at  shadows 
greater  than  the  substance ;  but  the  true  religion  and 
holy  Christian  faith  lays  hold  of  the  reality  itself,  by 
imprinting  upon  men's  souls,  Charity,  which  is  excel- 
lently called  "the  bond  of  Perfection,"3  because  it 
comprehends  and  fastens  all  virtues  together.  And  it 
is  elegantly  said  by  Menander4  of  sensual  love  (which 
is  but  a  false  imitation  of  divine  love),  "  That  love  is 
a  better  teacher  for  human  life  than  a  left-handed  soph- 

l  Nic.  Eth.  vii.  1.  2  Pliny,  Paneg.  1.  c.  74. 

*  Coloss.  iii.  14.  4  Anaxandrides,  not  Menander. 


228          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ist,"  whereby  he  means  that  comeliness  of  manner  is 
better  taught  by  love  than  by  a  clumsy  preceptor  or 
sophist,  whom  he  calls  left-handed;  because,  with  all 
his  laborious  rules  and  precepts  he  cannot  form  a  man 
so  dexterously,  nor  with  that  facility  to  prize  and  gov- 
ern himself  in  all  things,  as  love  can  do.  So  certainly 
if  a  man's  mind  be  truly  inflamed  with  charity,  it 
raises  him  to  greater  perfection  than  all  the  doctrines 
of  morality  can  do ;  which  is  but  a  sophist  in  compari- 
son of  the  other.  Nay  further,  as  Xenophon  truly  ob- 
served, "  that  all  other  affections  though  they  raise  the 
mind,  yet  they  distort  and  disorder  it  by  their  ecstasies 
and  excesses,  but  only  love  at  the  same  time  exalts  and 
composes  it;"1  so  all  the  other  qualities  which  we  ad- 
mire in  man,  though  they  advance  nature,  are  yet  sub- 
ject to  excess ;  whereas  Charity  alone  admits  of  no 
excess.  The  Angels  aspiring  to  be  like  God  in  power, 
transgressed  and  fell :  "  I  will  ascend,  and  be  like  unto 
the  most  High."2  Man  aspiring  to  be  like  God  in 
knowledge,  transgressed  and  fell :  "  Ye  shall  be  as 
gods,  knowing  good  and  evil;"3  but  by  aspiring  to  a 
similitude  of  God  in  goodness  or  love,  neither  angel  or 
man  ever  transgressed  or  shall  transgress  ;  for  unto 
that  imitation  we  are  called,  "  Love  your  enemies, 
bless  them  which  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  that 
despitefully  use  you  and  persecute  you,  that  ye  may 
be  children  of  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven,  who 
makes  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  the  good,  and 
sends  his  rain  on  the  just  and  the  unjust."4  So  in  the 
first  platform  of  the  divine  nature  itself,  the  heathen 
religion  speaks  thus,  "  Optimus  Maximus,"  but  the 

1  Xenoph.  Sympos.  2  Isaiah,  xiv.  14. 

»  Gen.  iii.  5.  *  St.  Matt.  y.  44. 


THE  SEVENTH  BOOK.  229 

sacred  Scriptures  thus,   "  His  mercy  is  over  all  His 
works."1 

Here  then  I  conclude  this  part  of  moral  knowledge 
concerning  the  Georgics  of  the  mind,  wherein  if  any 
man,  from  viewing  the  parts  thereof  which  I  have 
enumerated,  judge  that  my  labour  is  but  to  collect  into 
an  art  or  science  that  which  has  been  omitted  by  other 
writers  as  matter  of  common  sense  and  experience,  and 
sufficiently  clear  and  self-evident,  he  is  welcome  to  his 
opinion ;  but  in  the  meanwhile  let  him  remember  that 
I  am  in  pursuit,  as  I  said  at  first,  not  of  beauty  but  of 
utility  and  truth :  and  let  him  withal  call  to  mind  the 
ancient  parable  of  the  two  gates  of  sleep :  — 

Sunt  geminae  Somni  portae,  quarum  altera  fertur 
Cornea,  qua  veris  facilis  datur  exitus  umbris; 
Altera  candenti  perfecta  nitens  elephanto, 
Sed  falsa  ad  coelum  mittunt  insomnia  Manes.2 

Great  no  doubt  is  the  magnificence  of  the  ivory  gate, 
but  the  true  dreams  pass  through  the  gate  of  horn. 

To  these  observations  concerning  moral  philosophy 
may  be  added,  That  there  seems  to  be  a  relation  or  con- 
formity between  the  good  of  the  mind  and  the  good  of  the 
body.  For  as  I  said  that  the  good  of  the  body  consisted 
of  health,  beauty,  strength,  and  pleasure ;  so  the  good 
of  the  mind  considered  according  to  the  precepts  of 
moral  knowledge  tends  to  this;  to  make  the  mind 
sound  and  without  perturbation ;  beautiful  and  graced 
with  decency ;  and  strong  and  agile  for  all  the  duties 

1  Psalm  cxlv.  9. 

*  Virg.  jEn.  vi.  894.:  — 

Two  gates  the  entrance  of  Sleep's  house  adorn 

Of  ivory  one,  the  other  simple  horn  ; 

Through  horn  a  crowd  of  real  visions  streams, 

Through  ivory  portals  pass  delusive  dreams. 


280          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

of  life  ;  lastly,  not  stupid,  but  retaining  a  lively  sense 
of  pleasure  and  comfort  in  an  honest  way.  These 
three  as  in  the  body  so  in  the  mind  seldom  all  meet 
together.  For  it  is  easy  to  observe  that  many  have 
strength  of  wit  and  courage,  who  are  yet  disordered 
by  perturbations  and  have  little  beauty  and  decency  in 
their  manners ;  some  again  have  an  elegance  and  fine- 
ness of  carriage,  who  have  neither  honesty  of  will  nor 
strength  for  action ;  and  some  again  have  honest  and 
reformed  minds,  who  can  neither  become  themselves 
nor  manage  business :  while  others,  though  perhaps 
endowed  with  all  these  three,  yet  from  a  Stoical  se- 
verity and  insensibility  have  no  pleasure  in  the  virtu- 
ous actions  which  they  practise.  But  though  it  hap- 
pen that  of  these  four  two  or  three  of  them  sometimes 
meet,  yet  the  meeting  of  them  all  is,  as  I  have  said, 
very  rare.  I  have  now  handled  that  general  part  of 
human  philosophy  which  contemplates  man  as  he  con- 
sists of  body  and  spirit,  but  segregate  and  apart  from 
society. 


or 


THE    ADVANCEMENT   OF   LEARNING. 
BOOK  VIII. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Division  of  Civil  Knowledge  into  the  Doctrine  con- 
cerning Conversation,  Negotiation,  and  Empire  or 
State  Government. 

THERE  is  an  old  story,  most  excellent  king,  that 
many  philosophers  being  met  together  in  the  presence 
of  the  ambassador  of  a  foreign  prince,  each  endeavour- 
ing to  give  a  sample  of  his  wisdom,  that  the  ambas- 
sador might  be  able  to  make  a  report  of  the  wonderful 
wisdom  of  Greece ;  one  of  them  remained  silent  and 
propounded  nothing ;  insomuch  that  the  ambassador 
turning  to  him,  said,  "  What  have  you  to  say  for  me  to 
report?"  To  whom  he  answered,  "Tell  your  king 
that  you  have  found  a  man  in  Greece,  who  knew  how 
to  hold  his  tongue."1  And  in  truth,  in  this  synopsis 
of  the  arts  I  have  forgotten  to  mention  the  art  of 
silence,  which  (since  it  is  commonly  deficient)  I  will 
now  teach  by  my  own  example.  For  since  the  course 
of  the  argument  has  now  brought  me  down  to  that 

1  This  story  is  told  of  Zeno.    See  Pint,  de  Garrulitate,  and  Diog.  Laert 
Vii  24. 


232         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

point,  that  I  should  presently  handle  the  art  of  gov- 
ernment ;  and  since  I  am  writing  to  so  great  a  king 
who  is  such  a  master  in  that  art,  wherein  he  has  been 
trained  from  his  cradle ;  and  since  I  cannot  altogether 

*  O 

forget  what  position  I  have  held  under  your  majesty ; 
I  thought  that  I  should  better  approve  myself  by  silence 
on  such  a  matter  before  your  majesty,  than  by  speech. 
Cicero  indeed  makes  mention  not  only  of  an  art,  but 
of  a  kind  of  eloquence  in  silence ;  for  in  one  of  his 
letters  to  Atticus,  after  relating  a  conversation  be- 
tween himself  and  another  person  on  both  sides  of  a 
subject,  he  writes,  "  Here  I  borrowed  part  of  your 
eloquence,  for  I  held  my  tongue."1  Pindar  again 
(whose  peculiar  gift  it  was  to  surprise  men's  minds 
with  some  striking  expression,  as  with  a  magic  rod), 
utters  some  such  saying  as  this,  "  Silence  sometimes 
says  more  than  speech."2  Wherefore  in  this  part  I 
have  determined  to  be  silent,  or  to  be  very  brief,  which 
is  next  thing  to  silence ;  but  before  I  come  to  the  arts 
of  government,  I  must  first  make  some  observations 
touching  the  other  parts  of  civil  knowledge. 

Civil  knowledge  is  conversant  about  a  subject,  which 
of  all  others  is  most  immersed  in  matter,  and  with  most 
difficulty  reduced  to  axioms.  Nevertheless  there  are 
some  circumstances  to  relieve  this  difficulty ;  for  first, 
as  Cato  the  Censor  used  to  say  of  the  Romans,  "  that 
they  were  like  sheep,  for  that  a  man  might  better  drive 
a  flock  of  them,  than  one  of  them  ;  for  in  a  flock,  if 
you  could  but  get  some  few  of  them  to  go  right,  the 
rest  would  follow;"3  so  in  that  respect  the  duty  of 
moral  philosophy  is  more  difficult  than  that  of  policy. 
Secondly,  moral  philosophy  propounds  to  itself  to  im- 

l  Cic.  Ep.  ad  Attic,  xii.  42.        2  pjnd.  Nem.  v.  32.       »  Plut.  in  Cato  c.  8. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  233 

hue  and  endow  the  mind  with  internal  goodness ;  but 
civil  knowledge  requires  only  an  external  goodness, 
for  that  suffices  for  society.  And  therefore  it  often 
comes  to  pass  that  there  be  evil  times  in  good  govern- 
ments; as  in  the  sacred  history  we  find  it  said  more 
than  once  in  speaking  of  good  and  pious  kings,  "  How- 
beit  the  people  had  not  yet  directed  their  heart  aright 
to  the  Lord  God  of  their  Fathers;"1  wherefore  in  this 
respect  also  the  office  of  moral  philosophy  is  more  diffi- 
cult. Thirdly,  states  as  great  engines  are  moved  slowly 
and  not  without  great  efforts,  whence  they  are  not  so 
soon  put  out  of  frame ;  for  as  in  Egypt  the  seven  good 
years  sustained  the  seven  bad,  so  in  states  the  good 
government  of  previous  years  prevents  the  errors  of 
succeeding  times  from  causing  immediate  ruin  ;  but 
the  resolutions  and  morality  of  particular  persons  are 
more  suddenly  subverted.  And  this  makes  moral 
knowledge  more  difficult,  but  civil  knowledge  more 
easy. 

Civil  knowledge  has  three  parts,  according  to  the 
three  summary  actions  of  Society ;  the  knowledge  of 
conversation,  the  knowledge  of  negotiation,  and  the  knowl- 
edge of  empire  or  government.  For  there  are  three  kinds 
of  good  which  men  seek  in  society,  comfort  against  sol- 
itude, assistance  in  business,  and  protection  against  in- 
juries ;  and  they  are  three  wisdoms  of  divers  natures^ 
which  are  often  separate  ;  wisdom  of  behaviour,  wis 
dom  of  business,  and  wisdom  of  state. 

The  wisdom  of  conversation  ought  certainly  not  to 
be  overmuch  affected,  but  much  less  despised ;  for  a 
wise  management  thereof  has  not  only  a  grace  and 
honour  in  itself,  but  an  important  influence  in  business 

l  2  Chron.  xx.  33. 


234         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

and  government.  For  as  action  in  an  orator,  though 
an  external  quality,  is  held  of  such  account  as  even  to 
be  preferred  to  those  other  parts  which  appear  more 
important  and  internal ;  so  in  a  man  of  business  con- 
versation and  the  management  thereof,  though  em- 

O  '  O 

ployed  on  external  objects,  finds,  if  not  the  highest, 
yet  at  all  events  an  eminent  place.  For  look  what 
an  effect  is  produced  by  the  countenance  and  the  car- 
riage of  it.  Well  says  the  poet, 

Nee  vultu  destrue  verba  tuo.1 

For  a  man  may  destroy  and  betray  the  force  of  his 
words  by  his  countenance  ;  nay,  and  the  effect  of  his 
deeds  also,  if  we  believe  Cicero  ;  who  in  recommend- 
ing to  his  brother  affability  towards  the  provincials, 
said  that  it  did  not  so  much  consist  in  affording  them 
easy  access,  as  in  receiving  them  with  a  courteous  and 
open  countenance.  "  It  is  nothing  to  have  your  door 
open,  if  your  countenance  be  shut."  2  So  we  see  At- 
ticus  before  the  first  interview  between  Csesar  and 
Cicero,  the  war  still  depending,  carefully  and  seriously 
advised  Cicero  touching  the  composing  and  ordering 
of  his  countenance  and  gesture.3  And  if  the  govern- 
ment of  the  face  and  countenance  alone  be  of  such 
effect ;  much  more  is  that  of  the  speech  and  other  car- 
riage appertaining  to  conversation.  Indeed  all  grace 
and  dignity  of  behaviour  may  be  summed  up  in  the 
even  balancing  of  our  own  dignity  and  that  of  others, 
as  has  been  well  expressed  by  Livy,  (though  not  meant 
for  this  purpose)  in  that  description  which  he  gives 
of  personal  character.  "  Lest  I  should  appear  (says 

l  Ovid,  De  Art.  Am.  ii.  312. :  — 

.     Let  not  your  looks  your  words  betray. 
«  De  Petit.  Cons.  8  Cic.  Ep.  ad  Att.  ix.  12. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  235 

he)  either  arrogant  or  servile,  whereof  the  one  were 
to  forget  the  liberty  of  others,  the  other  to  forget  my 
own."  1  On  the  other  side,  if  behaviour  and  outward 
carriage  be  intended  too  much,  it  may  pass  into  a  de- 
formed and  spurious  affectation.  "  And  then,  what  i? 
more  uncomely  than  to  bring  the  manners  of  the  stage 
into  the  business  of  life  ?  "  Arid  even  if  it  proceed 
not  to  that  faulty  extreme,  yet  too  much  time  is  con- 
sumed in  these  frivolous  matters,  and  the  mind  is  em- 
ployed more  than  is  right  in  the  care  of  them.  And 
therefore  as  in  the  universities  preceptors  use  to  ad- 
vise young  students  from  too  much  company  keeping, 
by  saying,  "  Friends  are  the  thieves  of  time  ; "  so 
certainly  the  constant  attention  of  the  mind  to  the 
discretion  of  the  behaviour  is  a  great  thief  of  more 
serious  meditation.  Again  such  as  are  accomplished 
in  urbanity,  and  seem  as  formed  by  nature  for  that 
alone,  generally  find  satisfaction  enough  therein,  and 
seldom  aspire  to  higher  and  more  solid  virtue  ;  whereas 
those  who  are  conscious  of  a  defect  in  this  point  seek 
comeliness  by  reputation ;  for  where  reputation  is, 
there  almost  everything  is  becoming ;  but  where  that 
is  not,  it  must  be  supplied  by  manners  and  behaviour. 
Again  there  is  no  greater  nor  more  common  impedi- 
ment of  action  than  an  overcurious  observance  of  ex- 
ternal decency,  and  the  attendant  of  decency,  which 
is  an  anxious  watching  of  Time  and  Season.  For  as 
Solomon  well  observes,  "  He  that  regards  the  winds 
does  not  sow,  and  he  that  regards  the  clouds  does  not 
reap :  " 2  a  man  must  make  his  opportunity  as  oft  as 
find  it.  To  conclude,  this  behaviour  is  as  the  garment 
of  the  mind,  and  ought  to  have  the  conditions  of  a 
1  Livy,  xxiii.  12.  2  Eccles.  xi.  4. 


236         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

garment.  For  first,  it  ought  to  be  made  in  fashion  ; 
secondly,  it  should  not  be  too  curious  or  costly ;  thirdly, 
it  ought  to  be  so  framed,  as  to  best  set  forth  any  virtue 
of  the  mind,  and  supply  and  hide  any  deformity ;  lastly, 
and  above  all,  it  ought  not  be  too  strait,  so  as  to  con- 
fine the  mind  and  interfere  with  its  freedom  in  busi- 
ness and  action.  But  this  part  of  civil  knowledge 
touching  conversation  has  been  elegantly  handled,  and 
therefore  I  cannot  report  it  for  deficient. 


CHAP.  II. 

The  Division  of  the  Doctrine  concerning  Negotiation  into 
the  Doctrine  concerning  Scattered  Occasions  and  the 
Doctrine  concerning  Advancement  in  Life.  —  Ex- 
ample of  the  Doctrine  concerning  Scattered  Occasions 
from  some  of  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon.  —  Precepts 
concerning  Advancement  in  Life. 

THE  Doctrine  concerning  Negotiation  is  divided 
into  the  Doctrine  concerning  Scattered  Occasions,  and  the 
Doctrine  concerning  Advancement  in  Life  ;  whereof  the 
one  comprises  all  variety  of  business,  and  is  as  it  were 
the  secretary  for  the  whole  department  of  life ;  the 
other  merely  selects  and  suggests  such  things  as  relate 
to  the  improvement  of  a  man's  own  fortune,  and  may 
serve  each  man  for  a  private  notebook  or  register  of 
his  own  affairs.  But  before  I  descend  to  the  species, 
I  will  make  some  preparatory  remarks  touching  the 
doctrine  concerning  negotiation  in  general.  The  sci- 
ence of  negotiation  has  not  hitherto  been  handled  in 
proportion  to  the  importance  of  the  subject,  to  the  great 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  237 

derogation  of  learning  and  the  professors  thereof.  For 
from  this  root  springs  chiefly  that  evil,  with  which  the 
learned  have  been  branded  ;  "  TJiat  there  is  no  great 
concurrence  between  learning  and  practical  wisdom" 
For  if  it  be  rightly  observed,  of  the  three  wisdoms 
which  we  have  set  down  to  pertain  to  civil  life,  the 
wisdom  of  behaviour  is  by  learned  men  for  the  most 
part  despised,  as  a  thing  servile,  and  moreover  an 
enemy  to  meditation.  For  wisdom  of  government,  it 
is  true  that  as  often  as  learned  men  are  called  to  the 
helm,  they  acquit  themselves  well,  but  that  happens  to 
few.  But  for  the  wisdom  of  business  (of  which  I  am 
now  speaking),  wherein  man's  life  is  most  conversant, 
there  are  no  books  at  all  written  of  it,  except  some  few 
civil  advertisements  collected  in  one  or  two  little  vol- 
umes, which  have  no  proportion  to  the  magnitude  of 
the  subject.  For  if  books  were  written  of  this  as  of 
the  other,  I  doubt  not  but  learned  men  with  but  little 
experience  would  far  excel  men  of  long  experience 
without  learning,  and  outshoot  them  (as  they  say)  in 
their  own  bow. 

Neither  is  there  any  reason  to  fear  that  the  matter 
of  this  knowledge  should  be  so  variable  that  it  falls  not 
under  precept ;  for  it  is  much  less  infinite  than  that 
science  of  government,  which  notwithstanding  we  see 
is  excellently  laboured  and  reduced.  Of  this  kind  of 
tvisdom  it  seems  some  of  the  ancient  Romans  in  the 
best  times  were  professors :  for  Cicero  reports  that  a 
little  before  his  age  senators  who  had  most  name  and 
opinion  for  wisdom  and  practice  in  affairs  (as  Corun- 
canius,  Curius,  Lselius,  and  many  others)  used  to  walk 
at  certain  hours  in  the  Forum,  where  they  might  give 
audience  to  their  fellow-citizens,  who  would  consult 


238          TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

with  them  not  merely  on  subjects  of  law  but  on  all 
sorts  of  business ;  as  on  the  marriage  of  a  daughter, 
the  education  of  a  son,  the  purchase  of  a  farm,  a  con- 
tract, accusation,  defence,  and  every  other  occasion 
incident  to  man's  life.1  Whence  it  appears  that  there 
is  a  wisdom  of  counsel  and  advice  even  in  private 
causes,  arising  out  of  a  universal  insight  and  experience 
of  the  affairs  of  the  world ;  which  is  used  indeed  upon 
particular  causes,  but  is  gathered  by  general  observa- 
tion of  causes  of  like  nature.  For  so  we  see  in  that 
book  which  Cicero  wrote  to  his  brother,  "  on  Canvass- 
ing for  the  Consulship  "  2  (being  the  only  book  of  par- 
ticular business  that  I  know  written  by  the  ancients), 
although  it  especially  concerned  an  action  then  on  foot, 
yet  it  contained  many  politic  axioms  which  prescribe 
not  only  a  temporary  but  a  perpetual  direction  in  the 
case  of  popular  elections.  But  of  this  kind  there  is 
nothing  any  way  comparable  to  those  Aphorisms  com- 
posed by  Solomon  the  King,  of  whom  the  Scriptures 
testify,  "  that  his  heart  was  as  the  sands  of  the  sea ;  "  3 
for  as  the  sands  of  the  sea  encompass  all  the  coasts  of 
the  earth,  so  did  his  wisdom  embrace  all  things  human 
as  well  as  divine.  But  in  these  Aphorisms,  besides 
those  of  a  theological  character,  there  are  not  a  few 
excellent  civil  precepts  and  cautions,  springing  from 
the  inmost  recesses  of  wisdom  and  extending  to  much 
variety  of  occasions.  Wherefore  seeing  I  set  down  this 
knowledge  of  scattered  occasions  (which  is  the  first  part 
of  the  knowledge  touching  negotiation)  among  the  defi- 
cients, I  will  stay  awhile  upon  it  according  to  my  cus- 
tom, and  offer  to  consideration  an  example  of  the  same, 
taken  from  the  Aphorisms  or  Proverbs  of  Solomon, 
i  Cicero,  De  Orat  iii.  33  *  De  Petit.  Consulatus.  «  1  Kings,  iv.  29. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  239 

Nor  in  my  opinion  can  I  be  with  reason  blamed  for 
seeking  a  politic  meaning  in  one  of  the  Sacred  writers  ; 
for  if  those  commentaries  were  extant  which  this  same 
Solomon  wrote  touching  the  nature  of  things,  (wherein 
he  treated  of  every  vegetable,  from  the  moss  upon  the 
wall  to  the  cedar  of  Lebanon,  and  likewise  of  all  ani- 
mals),1 it  would  surely  be  lawful  to  interpret  them  in 
a  natural  sense ;  and  therefore  we  may  here  use  the 
same  liberty  in  matters  political. 

An  Example  of  a  portion  of  the  doctrine  concerning  scat- 
tered occasions,  taken  from  some  of  the  Proverbs  of 
Solomon. 

PROVERB. 

(1.)  A  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath.2 

Explanation. 

If  the  anger  of  a  prince  or  a  superior  be  kindled 
against  you,  and  it  is  your  turn  to  speak,  Solomon 
gives  two  directions :  first,  "  that  an  answer  be  made," 
and  secondly,  "that  it  be  soft;"  the  former  whereof 
contains  three  precepts.  First,  to  beware  of  a  sullen 
and  obstinate  silence,  which  either  takes  the  fault  en- 
tirely on  yourself,  as  if  you  had  no  answer  to  make  ; 
or  secretly  impugns  your  superior  of  injustice,  insinuat- 
ing that  his  ears  are  not  open  to  a  defence,  though  a 
just  one.  Secondly,  to  beware  of  postponing  the  mat- 
ter and  demanding  another  time  for  defence ;  which 
either  conveys  the  same  impression  as  the  preceding 
one,  that  your  superior  is  carried  away  by  too  great 
an  excitement  of  temper ;  or  plainly  intimates  that 
having  no  answer  ready  you  are  meditating  a  false  and 

1  1  Kings,  iv.  33.  2  Prov.  xv.  1. 


24:0          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

artificial  defence.  Wherefore  it  will  ever  be  the  best 
course  to  bring  forward  something  in  excuse  directly 
as  the  occasion  arises.  Thirdly,  that  an  answer  at  all 
events  be  made ;  not  a  simple  confession  or  submission, 
but  with  a  mixture  of  defence  and  excuse  ;  for  a  dif- 
ferent course  is  unsafe,  except  with  very  generous  and 
noble  characters,  which  are  extremely  rare.  It  follows 
in  the  other  precept,  that  the  answer  be  soft,  not  harsh 
or  rough. 

PROVERB. 

(2.)  A  wise  servant  shall  have  rule  over  a  foolish 
soi,,  and  shall  have  part  of  the  inheritance  among  the 
brethren.1 

Explanation. 

In  all  disordered  and  discordant  families  there  is 
ever  some  servant  or  humble  friend  of  great  influence, 
who  acts  as  arbiter  and  settles  their  disputes,  and  to 
whom  on  that  account  both  the  whole  family  and  the 
master  himself  are  subject.  Such  a  man,  if  he  is  pur- 
suing his  own  interest,  foments  and  aggravates  the 
family  feuds  ;  but  if  he  is  truly  faithful  and  upright  he 
deserves  a  great  reward  ;  even  to  be  counted  as  one  of 
the  brothers,  or  at  least  to  have  the  direction  of  the 
inheritance  in  trust. 

PROVERB. 

(3.)  If  a  wise  man  contend  with  a  fool,  whether  he 
rage  or  laugh,  he  shall  find  no  rest.2 

Explanation. 

We  are  often  advised  to  avoid  an  unequal  contest, 
meaning  that  we  should  not  contend  with  those  that 
1  Prov.  xvii.  2.  2  Prov.  xxix.  9. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  241 

are  too  strong  for  us.  But  the  advice  here  given  by 
Solomon  is  no  less  useful,  "  Not  to  contend  with  one 
that  is  unworthy ;  "  for  herein  the  chances  are  alto- 
gether unequal ;  seeing  it  is  no  victory  to  conquer,  and 
a  great  disgrace  to  be  conquered.  And  it  makes  no 
difference  in  this  kind  of  contest,  whether  we  take 
it  in  jest,  or  in  scorn  and  contempt ;  for,  whichever 
way  we  turn,  we  must  lose  in  dignity  and  can  no 
ways  quit  ourselves  well  of  it.  But  the  worst  of  all 
is  if,  as  Solomon  says,  our  adversary  has  somewhat  of 
the  fool  in  him,  that  is,  if  he  be  bold  and  presump- 
tuous. 

PROVERB. 

(4.)  Lend  not  thine  ear  to  all  words  that  are  spo- 
ken, lest  thou  hear  thy  servant  curse  thee.1 

Explanation. 

It  is  scarcely  credible  what  confusion  is  created  in 
life  by  a  useless  curiosity  about  the  things  which  con- 
cern us  ;  that  is,  when  we  set  to  work  to  inquire  into 
those  secrets  which  when  discovered  produce  uneasi- 
ness of  mind,  but  are  of  no  use  to  forward  our  designs. 
For  first  there  ensues  vexation  and  disquiet  of  mind, 
seeing  all  things  human  are  full  of  treachery  and  in- 
gratitude. And  therefore  if  we  could  obtain  a  magic 
glass  wherein  we  might  view  all  the  enmities  and  all 
ihe  hostile  designs  that  are  at  work  against  us,  it 
were  better  for  us  to  throw  it  down  at  once  and 
bi'eak  it  to  pieces  ;  for  these  matters  are  but  as  the 
rustling  of  leaves,  and  have  short  duration.  Sec- 
ondly, this  curiosity  overcharges  the  mind  with  sus- 
picio^s,  a  thing  which  ruins  counsels,  and  renders 

i  Eccles.  vii.  21. 

VOL.   IX.  16 


242         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

them  inconstant  and  perplexed.  Thirdly,  it  often 
renders  permanent  those  very  evils  which  would  other- 
wise blow  over ;  for  it  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  alarm 
the  consciences  of  men  ;  who,  if  they  imagine  them- 
selves undetected,  may  come  to  a  better  mind ;  but  if 
they  perceive  that  they  are  discovered,  they  repel  mis- 
chief with  mischief.  Rightly  therefore  was  it  consid- 
ered great  wisdom  in  Pompey  that  he  burned  all  Ser- 
torius's  papers  unperused  either  by  himself  or  others.1 

PROVERB. 

(5.)  Poverty  comes  as  one  that  travelleth,  and  want 
as  an  armed  man.2 

Explanation. 

It  is  elegantly  described  in  this  proverb,  how  the 
shipwreck  of  fortunes  comes  upon  prodigals  and  those 
that  are  careless  of  their  estates  ;  for  debt  and  diminu- 
tion of  capital  come  on  at  first  slowly  and  step  by  step 
like  a  traveller,  and  are  scarce  perceived ;  but  soon 
after  want  rushes  in  like  an  armed  man,  so  strong  and 
powerful  as  no  longer  to  be  resisted  ;  for  it  was  rightly 
said  by  the  ancients,  "  that  necessity  was  of  all  things 
the  strongest."  8  Wherefore  we  must  meet  the  travel- 
ler on  his  way,  but  against  the  armed  man  we  must 
fortify. 

PROVERB. 

(6.)  He  that  instructs  a  scorner  gets  to  himseif 
shame,  and  he  that  rebukes  the  wicked  gets  himself  a 
blot.* 

Explanation. 

This  agrees  with  the  command  of  our  Saviour,  "  not 

1  Plat,  in  Pomp.  c.  20.;  and  in  Sertor.  c.  27. 
*  Prov.  vi.  11.  a  Cf.  Eurip.  Helena.  513.  *  Prov.  ix.  7. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  243 

to  cast  pearls  before  swine," 1  but  a  difference  is  made 
between  the  actions  of  instruction  and  reproof;  and 
also  between  the  persons  of  the  scorner  and  the  wick- 
ed ;  and  lastly,  there  is  a  difference  in  the  return  ;  for 
in  the  former  case  the  labour  is  but  lost,  in  the  latter 
it  is  repaid  with  a  stain  and  blot.  For  when  a  man 
informs  and  instructs  a  scorner,  in  the  first  place  he 
loses  his  time  ;  and  secondly,  the  attempt  is  laughed  at 
by  others  as  a  vain  thing  and  labour  misapplied ;  and 
lastly,  the  scorner  himself  despises  the  knowledge  which 
he  has  received.  But  there  is  greater  danger  in  the 
reproval  of  the  wicked  ;  for  not  only  does  a  wicked 
man  lend  no  ear  to  advice,  but  turns  again  on  his  re- 
prover, whom  being  now  made  odious  to  him  he  either 
directly  assails  with  abuse,  or  afterwards  traduces  to 
others. 

PROVERB. 

(7.)  A  wise  son  makes  a  glad  father,  but  a  foolish 
son  is  the  heaviness  of  his  mother.2 

Explanation. 

Here  are  distinguished  the  domestic  comforts  and 
tribulations  of  a  father  and  mother  respectively,  touch- 
ing their  children.  For  a  wise  and  prudent  son  is  of 
most  comfort  to  the  father,  who  knows  the  value  of 
virtue  better  than  the  mother,  and  accordingly  has 
more  joy  in  the  virtuous  inclination  of  his  son  ;  he  may 
feel  a  satisfaction  also  in  the  course  he  has  pursued, 
whereby  he  has  brought  up  his  son  so  well  and  im- 
planted sound  morality  in  him  by  precept  and  example. 
But  the  mother  has  most  sorrow  and  discomfort  at  the 
ill  fortune  of  her  son,  both  because  the  affection  of  a 
i  St.  Matt.  vii.  6.  2  Prov.  x.  1. 


244         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

mother  is  more  gentle  and  tender,  and  because  she  is 
conscious  perhaps  that  she  has  spoiled  and  corrupted 
him  by  her  indulgence. 

PROVERB. 

(8.)  The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed,  but  the 
name  of  the  wicked  shall  rot.1 

Explanation. 

A  distinction  is  here  made  between  the  character  of 
the  good  and  the  bad  after  death.  For  when  the  envy 
which  carped  at  the  reputation  of  the  good  in  their 
lifetime  is  quenched,  their  name  forthwith  shoots  up 
and  flourishes,  and  their  praises  daily  increase  ;  but  for 
the  wicked,  though  their  reputation  through  the  favour 
of  their  friends  and  partizans  last  for  a  time,  yet  soon 
it  turns  into  contempt,  and  in  the  end  their  fleeting 
glory  changes  into  infamy  and  as  it  were  a  foul  and 
noxious  odour. 

PROVERB. 

(9.)  He  that  troubles  his  own  house  shall  inherit 
the  wind.2 

Explanation. 

A  very  useful  admonition,  touching  domestic  dis- 
cords and  disturbances.  For  many  from  the  separa- 
tion of  their  wives,  the  disinheriting  of  their  children, 
the  frequent  changes  in  their  family,  promise  to  them- 
selves great  things ;  as  if  they  would  thence  obtain 
peace  of  mind  and  a  better  management  of  their  affairs; 
but  commonly  their  hopes  vanish  into  the  winds.  For 
both  those  changes  generally  turn  out  ill,  and  such 
disturbers  of  their  family  often  experience  trouble  and 
*  Prov.  x.  7.  »  Prov.  xi.  29. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  245 

ingratitude  from  those  whom  to  the  neglect  of  others 
they  select  and  adopt ;  nay  further,  they  thus  draw 
upon  themselves  ill  reports  and  dishonourable  rumours ; 
for  it  is  well  said  by  Cicero,  "  Every  man's  reputation 
proceeds  from  those  of  his  own  household."  l  And 
both  these  evils  Solomon  elegantly  expresses  by  "  the 
inheritance  of  the  winds ;  "  for  both  the  disappointment 
of  expectation  and  the  raising  of  rumours  are  not  un- 
aptly compared  to  winds. 

PROVERB. 

(10.)  Better  is  the  end  of  &  speech  than  the  begin- 
ning thereof.2 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  reproves  a  very  common  error,  not 
only  of  those  who  make  an  especial  study  of  words, 
but  even  of  the  more  wise  and  prudent ;  which  is,  that 
men  are  more  careful  of  the  entrances  and  commence- 
ment of  their  speeches  than  of  the  end,  and  study 
more  diligently  the  prefaces  and  inducements  than  the 
conclusions  and  issues ;  whereas  for  the  former,  they 
ought  not  indeed  to  neglect  them,  but  the  latter  as 
being  of  far  greater  importance  they  ought  to  have 
ready  prepared  and  arranged  at  hand  ;  considering 
within  themselves  and  endeavouring  as  much  as  pos- 
sible to  anticipate  what  shall  be  the  end  of  their  speech, 
and  how  their  business  may  be  advanced  and  ripened 
thereby.  Nor  is  this  all ;  for  it  is  not  only  proper  to 
study  perorations  and  conclusions  of  such  speeches  as 
relate  to  the  business  itself,  but  also  to  be  prepared 
with  some  discourse  which  may  be  conveniently  and 

1  De  Petit.  Cons.  5. 

2  Eccles.  vii.  8.   The  English  version  has,  "  Better  is  the  end  of  a  thing," 


246          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

gracefully  thrown  in  at  the  close,  although  foreign  to 
the  matter  in  hand.  Indeed  I  knew  two  great  and 
wise  councillors  on  whom  the  weight  of  business  prin- 
cipally rested,  with  whom  it  was  a  constant  care  and  es- 
pecial art,  whenever  they  conferred  with  their  princes 
on  matters  of  state,  not  to  end  their  discourse  with 
matters  relating  to  the  business  itself,  but  always  by 
way  of  divertissement  to  draw  it  away  to  some  jest  or 
some  agreeable  news,  and  so  end  by  washing  off  (as 
the  proverb  has  it)  their  salt  water  discourses  with 
fresh.1  Nor  was  this  the  least  valuable  of  their  arts. 

PROVERB. 

(11.)  As  dead  flies  do  cause  the  best  ointment  to 
stink,  so  does  a  little  folly  him  that  is  in  reputation  for 
wisdom  and  honour.2 

Explanation. 

It  is  a  very  hard  and  unhappy  condition  (as  the 
Proverb  well  remarks)  of  men  pre-eminent  for  virtue, 
that  their  errors,  be  they  ever  so  trifling,  are  never 
excused.  But  as  in  the  clearest  diamond  every  little 
cloud  or  speck  catches  and  displeases  the  eye,  which  in 
a  less  perfect  stone  wovdd  hardly  be  discerned ;  so  in 
men  of  remarkabfe  virtue  the  slightest  faults  are  seen, 
talked  of,  and  severely  censured,  which  in  ordinary 
men  would  either  be  entirely  unobserved,  or  readily 
excused.  Hence  a  little  folly  in  a  very  wise  man,  a 
small  offence  in  a  very  good  man,  a  slight  impropriety 
in  a  man  of  polite  and  elegant  manners  detracts  greatly 
from  their  character  and  reputation;  and  therefore  it 
would  be  no  bad  policy  for  eminent  men  to  mingle 

1  Erasm.  Adag.  iii.  3.  26.  2  Eccles.  x.  1. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  247 

some  harmless  absurdities  with  their  actions ;  so  that 
they  may  retain  some  liberty  for  themselves,  and  make 
small  defects  less  distinguishable. 

PROVERB. 

(12.)  Scornful  men  bring  a  city  to  destruction,  but 
wise  men  turn  away  wrath.1 

Explanation. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Solomon  in  his  description 
of  men  formed  as  it  were  by  nature  for  the  ruin  and 
destruction  of  states,  should  have  selected  the  charac- 
ter, not  of  a  proud  and  insolent,  not  of  a  tyrannical 
and  cruel,  not  of  a  rash  and  violent,  not  of  a  wicked 
and  impious,  not  of  an  unjust  and  oppressive,  not  of  a 
seditious  and  turbulent,  not  of  an  incontinent  and  sen- 
sual, not  finally  of  a  foolish  and  incapable  person,  but 
the  character  of  a  scorner.  And  this  selection  is  worthy 
of  the  wisdom  of  a  king  who  well  knew  how  states 
were  overthrown  or  preserved ;  for  there  is  hardly  a 
greater  danger  to  kingdoms  and  states  than  that  coun- 
cillors or  senators  and  those  who  stand  at  the  helm 
should  be  of  a  scornful  disposition.  For  such  men  ever 
undervalue  dangers,  that  they  may  appear  bold  coun- 
cillors, and  insult  those  who  make  a  just  estimate  of 
them,  as  cowards.  They  sneer  at  seasonable  delays 
and  careful  discussions  in  consultation  and  deliberation, 
as  mere  matter  of  oratory,  full  of  weariness,  and  con- 
tributing nothing  to  the  completion  of  business.  As 
for  reputation,  with  a  view  to  which  the  counsels  of 
princes  ought  to  be  specially  framed,  they  despise  it  as 
the  breath  of  the  people,  that  will  quickly  be  blown 

1  Prov.  xxix.  8. 


248         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

away.  They  make  no  more  account  of  the  power  and 
authority  of  laws,  than  of  cobwebs  which  ought  not  to 
be  in  the  way  of  more  important  business.  Counsels 
and  precautions  looking  far  into  the  future  they  despise 
as  dreams  and  melancholy  apprehensions.  They  scorn 
with  gibes  and  jests  men  of  real  wisdom  and  experi- 
ence, of  great  minds,  and  deep  judgment.  In  short, 
they  weaken  all  the  foundations  of  civil  government ; 
a  thing  the  more  to  be  attended  to,  because  the  mis- 
chief is  wrought,  not  openly,  but  by  secret  engines 
and  intrigues ;  and  the  matter  is  not  yet  regarded  by 
men  with  as  much  apprehension  as  it  deserves. 

PROVERB. 

(13.)  A  prince  who  readily  hearkens  to  lies,  has  all 
his  servants  wicked.1 

Explanation. 

When  the  prince  is  one  who  lends  an  easy  and  cred- 
ulous ear  without  discernment  to  whisperers  and  in- 
formers, there  breathes  as  it  were  from  the  king  him- 
self a  pestilent  air,  which  corrupts  and  infects  all  his 
servants.  Some  probe  the  fears  and  jealousies  of  the 
prince,  and  increase  them  with  false  tales ;  others  ex- 
cite in  him  passions  of  envy,  especially  against  the  most 
virtuous  objects ;  others  seek  to  wash  away  then:  own 
vileness  and  evil  consciences  by  accusing  others;  others 
make  way  for  the  honours  and  wishes  of  their  friends 
by  traducing  and  calumniating  their  opponents ;  while 
others  get  up  stage  plots  and  a  number  of  the  like 
fables  against  their  enemies.  These  are  the  machina- 
tions of  servants  who  are  of  a  more  dishonest  nature. 

1  Prov.  xxix.  12. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  249 

But  those  also  who  are  naturally  of  greater  honesty 
and  principle,  when  they  find  no  safeguard  in  their 
innocence  (the  prince  not  being  able  to  distinguish 
truth  from  falsehood),  throw  off  their  honesty,  and 
catching  the  court  breezes  allow  themselves  to  be  car- 
ried where  they  blow.  "  For,"  as  Tacitus  says  of 
Claudius,  "  there  is  no  safety  with  that  prince,  who 
has  nothing  in  his  mind,  but  what  others  put  into  it."1 
And  Comines  well  remarks,  "  It  is  better  to  be  the 
servant  of  a  prince  whose  suspicions  have  no  end,  than 
of  one  whose  credulity  has  no  measure."2 

PROVERB. 

(14.)  A  righteous  man  regardeth  the  life  of  his 
beast,  but  the  tender  mercies  of  the  wicked  are  cruel.8 

Explanation. 

There  is  implanted  in  man  by  nature  a  noble  and 
excellent  spirit  of  compassion,  that  extends  itself  even 
to  the  brutes  which  by  the  divine  ordinance  are  subject 
to  his  command.  This  compassion  therefore  has  a  cer- 
tain analogy  with  that  of  a  prince  towards  his  subjects. 
Moreover  it  is  most  true,  that  the  nobler  a  soul  is,  the 
more  objects  of  compassion  it  has.  For  narrow  and 
degenerate  spirits  think  that  these  things  concern  them 
not ;  but  the  spirit  which  forms  a  nobler  portion  of 
the  universe  has  a  feeling  of  communion  with  them. 
Whence  we  see  that  under  the  old  law  there  were 
many  commandments,  not  so  much  purely  ceremonial 
as  institutions  of  mercy ;  as  was  that  of  not  eating  the 
flesh  with  the  blood  thereof,  and  the  like.  The  Essenes 
and  Pythagoreans  even  abstained  altogether  from  eating 

1  Annals,  xii.  3.          2  Histoire  de  Comines,  i.  16.  8  Prov.  xn.  10. 


250          TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

flesh :  and  the  same  superstition  still  prevails  among 
some  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Mogul  Empire.  Nay, 
the  Turks,  though  by  race  and  habits  a  cruel  and 
bloody  people,  yet  are  wont  to  give  alms  to  brute 
creatures,  and  cannot  endure  to  see  them  ill  used  or 
tortured.  But  lest  these  things  which  we  have  men- 
tioned should  seem  to  countenance  every  kind  of  mer- 
cy, Solomon  wisely  adds,  "  That  the  mercies  of  the 
wicked  are  cruel."  Such  is  the  sparing  to  use  the 
sword  of  justice  upon  wicked  and  guilty  men ;  which 
kind  of  mercy  is  more  cruel  than  cruelty  itself;  for 
cruelty  is  only  practised  upon  individual  persons,  but 
this  mercy  to  crime  by  granting  impunity  arms  and 
lets  loose  upon  the  innocent  the  whole  army  of  vil- 
lains. 

PROVERB. 

(15.)  A  fool  utters  all  his  mind,  but  a  wise  man 
reserves  something  for  the  future.1 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  seems  to  be  especially  aimed  not  at 
the  levity  of  foolish  men,  who  with  equal  readiness  let 
out  what  should  be  uttered,  and  what  should  be  con- 
cealed ;  not  at  that  plain  speaking,  with  which  they 
inveigh  without  discrimination  and  judgment  against 
everybody  and  everything;  not  at  that  talkativeness, 
whereby  they  weary  others  usque  ad  nauseam;  but  at 
another  fault  which  is  less  observed,  namely,  a  method 
of  discourse  of  all  others  most  unwise  and  impolitic ; 
T  mean,  when  a  man  in  private  conversation  so  frames 
his  discourse  as  to  produce  whatsoever  he  has  to  say 
pertinent  to  the  matter  in  hand  all  at  once  and  in  a 

1  Prov.  xxix.  11.' 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  251 

breath,  without  any  stop  or  pause.  Now  this  is  a  greal 
impediment  to  business.  For  in  the  first  place  a  speech 
that  is  broken  and  let  fall  part  by  part  makes  far  more 
impression  than  a  continuous  one ;  because  in  the  latter 
the  matters  touched  are  not  distinctly  and  severally 
apprehended  and  weighed ;  and  they  have  not  time 
enough  to  settle  ;  but  one  reason  drives  out  another 
before  it  has  taken  firm  hold.  Secondly,  no  one  is 
endowed  with  such  powerful  and  persuasive  eloquence 
as  with  the  first  stroke  of  his  discourse  to  make  his 
listeners  dumb  and  speechless,  but  the  other  party  will 
always  have  some  answer  to  make,  and  will  perhaps 
raise  objections ;  and  then  it  falls  out,  that  the  argu- 
ments which  should  have  been  reserved  for  refutation 
or  reply,  having  being  used  and  tasted  beforehand,  lose 
their  strength  and  grace.  Thirdly,  if  a  man  does  not 
use  all  his  arguments  at  once,  but  delivers  them  in 
parts,  throwing  in  one  after  the  other,  he  will  detect 
by  the  countenance  and  answer  of  his  opponent  how 
each  is  taken,  and  what  effect  it  produces,  and  he  may 
thence  take  warning  what  to  suppress  and  what  to 
select  in  that  which  is  to  follow. 

PROVERB. 

(16.)  If  the  spirit  of  the  ruler  rise  up  against  thee, 
leave  not  thy  place  ;  for  management  pacifies  great  of- 
fences.1 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  directs  a  man  how  to  behave  when  he 
has  incurred  the  wrath  and  indignation  of  his  prince, 
and  contains  two  precepts ;  first,  that  he  resign  not  his 
place ;  and  secondly,  that  he  carefully  and  prudently 

1  Eccles.  x.  4. 


252         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

apply  himself  to  the  remedy,  as  he  would  in  the  case 
of  a  serious  disease.  For  generally,  when  men  per- 
ceive the  anger  of  princes  stirred  against  them,  partly 
through  impatience  of  disgrace,  partly  that  they  may 
not  by  their  presence  irritate  the  wound,  and  partly 
that  their  princes  may  see  their  sorrow  and  contrition, 
they  withdraw  from  their  offices  and  appointments,  nay 
sometimes  they  resign  their  places  and  dignities  into 
his  hands.  But  Solomon  censures  this  remedy  as  in- 
jurious, and  with  good  reason.  For  in  the  first  place 
it  makes  the  disgrace  too  public,  whereby  enemies  and 
enviers  become  the  bolder  to  attack,  and  friends  the 
more  timid  to  assist.  Secondly,  it  thus  happens  that 
the  anger  of  the  prince,  which  if  it  had  not  been  di- 
vulged might  have  died  away  of  its  own  accord,  is 
more  deeply  rooted  and  having  as  it  were  commenced 
by  displacing  the  person  proceeds  to  his  overthrow. 
Lastly,  this  resignation  savours  somewhat  of  a  mal- 
content spirit  and  one  offended  with  the  times,  which 
aggravates  anger  with  suspicion.  The  precepts  for  the 
remedy  are  these  ;  first,  let  a  man  take  care  above  all 
things  neither  by  dullness  on  the  one  hand  nor  high 
spirit  on  the  other  to  let  it  appear  that  he  is  insensible 
to  the  indignation  of  the  prince,  or  not  properly  affected 
by  it :  that  is,  let  him  compose  his  countenance  not  to 
a  sullen  gloom  but  to  a  grave  and  modest  sadness ;  and 
in  all  his  duties  and  actions  let  him  exhibit  less  cheer- 
fulness and  pleasure.  It  will  be  also  advantageous  for 
him  to  engage  the  assistance  and  mediation  of  some 
friend  with  the  prince,  who  should  take  occasion  at  fit 
times  to  insinuate  how  deeply  the  offender  is  grieved. 
Secondly,  let  him  carefully  avoid  all,  even  the  slightest 
occasions,  which  may  lead  to  the  reopening  of  the  sub- 


THE  EIGHTH    BOOK.  253 

ject  of  offence,  or  draw  upon  him  fresh  indignation  or 
open  rebuke,  for  whatever  cause,  from  the  prince. 
Thirdly,  let  him  diligently  seek  for  every  occasion  of 
making  his  services  acceptable  to  the  prince,  that  he 
may  both  show  an  anxious  wish  to  redeem  his  past 
fault,  and  that  the  prince  may  perceive  of  how  good  a 
servant  he  will  be  deprived  if  he  loses  him.  Fourthly, 
let  him  either  contrive  to  transfer  the  fault  to  others, 
or  insinuate  that  it  was  committed  with  no  bad  inten- 
tion, or  even  let  him  point  out  the  malice  of  those  who 
complained  of  him  to  the  king  or  exaggerated  the  mat- 
ter more  than  it  deserved.  Lastly,  let  him  be  watch- 
ful in  everything,  and  intent  on  the  remedy. 

PROVERB. 

(17.)  He  that  is  first  in  his  own  cause  is  just,  then 
comes  the  other  side,  and  searches  him.1 

Explanation. 

In  every  cause  the  first  information,  if  it  have  dwelt 
for  a  little  in  the  judge's  mind,  takes  deep  root  and  col- 
ours and  takes  possession  of  it ;  insomuch  that  it  will 
hardly  be  washed  out,  unless  either  some  clear  false- 
hood be  detected  in  the  matter  of  the  information,  or 
some  deceit  in  the  statement  thereof.  A  bare  and  sim- 
ple defence,  though  it  be  just  and  of  greater  weight, 
will  hardly  counterbalance  the  prejudice  of  the  first 
information,  or  restore  to  an  equilibrium  the  scales  of 
justice  which  have  once  inclined.  Wherefore  as  it  is 
safest  for  the  judge  to  know  nothing  of  the  merits  of 
the  case  till  both  parties  are  heard  together,  so  it  is  the 
best  course  for  the  defendant,  if  he  finds  the  judge 

1  Prov.  xviii.  17. 


25-1          TRANSLATION    OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

prejudiced,  to  apply  himself,  as  far  as  the  case  allows, 
to  detect  some  fraud  or  deceit  employed  by  the  oppo- 
site party  to  abuse  the  judge. 

PROVERB. 

(18.)  He  that  delicately  brings  up  his  servant  from 
a  child,  shall  afterwards  find  him  insolent.1 

Explanation. 

According  to  the  advice  of  Solomon,  princes  and 
masters  ought  to  keep  a  measure  in  conferring  grace 
and  favour  on  their  servants.  In  this  three  points  are 
to  be  observed ;  first,  that  the  promotion  be  by  steps, 
and  not  by  jumps ;  secondly,  that  they  be  accustomed 
to  an  occasional  disappointment ;  and  thirdly,  as  Machi- 
avelli  well  advises,  that  they  should  have  ever  before 
their  eyes  some  ulterior  object  of  ambition.2  Other- 
wise princes  will  be  requited  by  their  servants  with 
disrespect  and  contumacy  instead  of  duty  and  grati- 
tude ;  for  sudden  promotion  begets  insolence ;  contin- 
ual obtaining  of  desires  begets  impatience  of  refusal ; 
and  if  there  be  nothing  further  to  aspire  to,  there  will 
be  an  absence  of  alacrity  and  industry. 

PROVERB. 

(19.)  Seest  thou  a  man  swift  of  despatch  ?  he  shall 
stand  before  kings,  and  shall  not  be  reckoned  among 
the  mean.3 

Explanation. 

Of  all  the  qualities  which  kings  especially  look  to 

1  Prov.  xxix.  21.     The  English  version  has,  "  Shall  have  him  become 
his  son  at  the  length." 

2  Cf.  Mach.  II  Princ.  22.  «  Prov.  xxii.  29. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  255 

and  require  in  the  choice  of  their  servants,  that  of 
despatch  and  energy  in  the  transactions  of  business  is 
the  most  acceptable.  Men  of  deep  wisdom  are  objects 
of  jealousy  to  kings,  as  being  too  close  observers,  and 
being  able  to  use  their  abilities  as  an  engine  to  turn 
and  wind  their  masters  against  their  will  and  knowl- 
edge. Popular  men  are  disliked  as  standing  in  the 
light  of  kings  and  drawing  the  eyes  of  the  people  upon 
themselves.  Men  of  great  spirit  and  courage  are  often 
accounted  turbulent  and  over-daring.  Men  of  honour 

O 

and  integrity  are  reputed  unmanageable  and  not  pliant 
enough  to  all  their  masters'  commands.  Lastly,  there 
is  no  other  virtue  which  does  not  present  some  shadow 
of  offence  to  the  minds  of  kings.  Expedkion  in  the 
execution  of  their  commands  is  the  only  one  which 
contains  nothing  that  is  not  acceptable.  Moreover  the 
minds  of  kings  are  hasty  and  impatient  of  delay;  for 
they  imagine  that  they  have  power  to  do  what  they 
will ;  all  they  want  is,  that  it  be  done  quickly ;  whence 
of  all  things  despatch  is  most  pleasing  to  them. 

PROVERB. 

(20.)  I  considered  all  the  living  which  walk  under 
the  sun,  with  the  second  child  who  shall  rise  in  his 
stead.1 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  remarks  upon  the  vanity  of  men,  who 
are  wont  to  crowd  around  the  appointed  heirs  of  princeu. 
The  root  hereof  is  in  that  madness,  deeply  implanted 
by  nature  in  human  minds,  of  being  too  fond  of  their 
own  hopes.  For  there  is  scarcely  any  one  but  takes 
more  delight  in  what  he  hopes  for  than  in  what  he  has. 
1  Eccles.  iv.  15. 


256          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

Novelty  also  is  very  pleasing  to  man,  and  is  eagerly 
sought  after.  Now  in  a  prince's  heir  hope  and  nov- 
elty are  combined.  And  this  proverb  implies  the  same 
as  that  which  was  said  of  old,  first  by  Pompey  to  Sylla, 
and  afterwards  by  Tiberius  respecting  Macro.  "  That 
there  be  more  who  worship  the  rising  than  the  setting 
sun."1  And  yet  princes  are  not  much  disturbed  at 
this,  nor  do  they  care  much  for  it,  as  neither  Sylla  nor 
Tiberius  did ;  but  they  rather  scorn  the  fickleness  of 
mankind,  and  do  not  care  to  strive  with  dreams ;  and 
hope,  as  was  said,  is  but  the  dream  of  a  waking  man.2 

PROVERB. 

(21.)  There  was  a  little  city,  and  few  men  within 
it ;  and  there  came  a  great  king  against  it,  and  built 
great  bulwarks  round  against  it,  and  besieged  it.  Now 
there  was  found  in  it  a  poor  wise  man,  and  he  by  his 
wisdom  delivered  the  city,  yet  no  man  remembered 
that  same  poor  man.3 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  notes  the  corrupt  and  ungrateful  na- 
ture of  mankind,  who  in  distress  and  adversity  have 
commonly  recourse  to  the  wise  and  active  men,  whom 
they  formerly  held  in  contempt ;  but  as  soon  as  the 
storm  has  passed  over,  they  are  found  ungrateful  to 
their  preservers.  Machiavelli  might  well  make  it  a 
question,  "  Which  was  more  ungrateful  to  their  ben- 
efactors, a  prince  or  a  people  ?  "  3  but  meanwhile  he 
implies  that  both  are  guilty  of  ingratitude.  But  the 
ingratitude  of  the  prince  or  the  people  is  not  the  only 

I  Tac.  Ann.vi.  46.,  and  Plut.  in  Pomp.  c.  14.  2  Of.  Quintil.  vi.  2.  30. 

*  Eccl.  ix.  14,  15.  4  Macch.  Discourse,  i.  29. 


THE   EIGHTH  BOOK.  257 

cause  of  this ;  there  is  added  the  envy  of  nobles,  who 
are  secretly  displeased  with  the  issue  though  fortunate 
and  prosperous,  because  it  did  not  originate  in  them- 
selves ;  whence  they  both  depreciate  the  merit  of  the 
work,  and  depress  the  author. 

PROVERB. 

(22.)  The  way  of  the  slothful  is  as  an  hedge  of 
thorns.1 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  very  elegantly  expresses  the  fact,  that 
sloth  is  in  the  end  laborious.  Diligence  and  careful 
preparation  remove  the  obstacles  against  which  the  foot 
would  otherwise  stumble,  and  smooth  the  path  before 
it  is  entered ;  but  he  who  is  sluggish  and  defers  every- 
thing to  the  last  moment  of  execution,  must  needs 
walk  every  step  as  it  were  amidst  briars  and  thorns, 
which  catch  and  stop  him.  This  likewise  may  be 
noted  in  the  management  of  a  family ;  wherein  if  care 
and  forethought  be  used,  everything  goes  on  smoothly 
and  of  itself,  without  noise  and  discord ;  but  if  they 
be  wanting,  on  any  important  emergency  everything 
has  to  be  done  at  once,  the  servants  are  in  confusion, 
and  the  house  in  an  uproar. 

PROVERB. 

(23.)  To  have  respect  of  persons  in  judgment  is 
not  good ;  for,  for  a  piece  of  bread  will  that  man  for- 
sake the  truth.2 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  most  wisely  marks  that  in  a  judge 
facility  of  disposition  is  more  pernicious  than  bribery  ; 

1  Prov.  xv.  19.  2  Prov.  xxviii.  21. 

VOL.  IX.  17 


258          TRANSLATION   OF   THE   "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

for  it  is  not  every  one  that  offers  a  bribe,  but  there  is 
scarcely  a  case  wherein  something  may  not  be  found 
to  bias  the  mind  of  the  judge,  if  he  be  a  respecter  of 
persons.  One  man  will  be  respected  because  he  is 
popular ;  another  because  he  has  a  shrewd  tongue ;  an- 
other because  he  is  rich  ;  another  because  he  is  agree- 
able ;  another  because  he  is  recommended  by  a  friend. 
In  fine,  where  respect  of  persons  prevails,  there  will 
be  unequal  measures  everywhere,  and  for  the  most 
trifling  reason,  as  it  were  for  a  morsel  of  bread,  judg- 
ment will  be  perverted. 

PROVERB. 

(24.)  A  poor  man  that  oppresses  the  poor,  is  like  a 
sweeping  rain,  which  causes  famine.1 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  was  anciently  figured  and  represented 
under  the  fable  of  the  full  and  hungry  horseleech  ;  for 
the  oppression  of  a  poor  and  hungry  man  is  far  more 
severe  than  that  of  a  rich  and  full  one,  inasmuch  as 
the  former  practises  all  the  arts  of  exactions,  and 
searches  every  corner  for  money.  The  same  used  also 
to  be  likened  to  a  sponge,  which  when  dry  sucks  in 
strongly,  but  not  so  when  wet.  And  it  contains  a  use- 
ful warning  for  princes  and  peoples  ;  for  princes,  that 
they  commit  not  offices  or  the  government  of  provinces 
to  needy  persons  and  such  as  are  in  debt ;  for  peoples, 
that  they  allow  not  their  rulers  to  be  too  much  in  want 
of  money. 

PROVERB. 

(25.)  A  righteous  man  falling  down  before  the 
wicked  is  as  a  troubled  fountain  and  a  corrupt  spring.3 

1  Prov.  xxviii.  3.  2  Prov  xxv.  26. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  259 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  teaches  that  an  unjust  and  scandalous 
judgment  in  any  conspicuous  and  weighty  cause,  is 
above  all  things  to  be  avoided  in  a  state ;  especially 
where  it  involves,  not  the  acquittal  of  the  guilty,  but 
the  condemnation  of  the  innocent.  For  particular  in- 
juries passing  unpunished  do  indeed  trouble  and  pollute 
the  waters  of  justice,  but  it  is  only  in  the  streamlets  ; 
whereas  unjust  judgments,  such  as  vfe  spoke  of,  infect 
and  corrupt  the  very  fountain-heads.  For  when  the 
judgment  seat  takes  the  part  of  injustice,  there  suc- 
ceeds a  state  of  general  robbery,  and  men  turn  wolves 
to  each  other,  according  to  the  adage.1 

PROVERB. 

(26.)  Make  no  friendship  with  an  angry  man,  and 
walk  not  with  a  furious  man.2 

Explanation. 

The  more  religiously  the  laws  of  friendship  are  to 
be  observed  and  honoured  among  good  men,  the  more 
care  should  be  taken  to  make  a  prudent  selection  of 
friends  at  the  first.  Now  the  disposition  and  manners 
of  our  friends,  so  far  as  they  affect  ourselves  only, 
should  by  all  means  be  borne  with  ;  but  when  they 
compel  us  to  alter  our  bearing  and  deportment  towards 
other  men,  the  condition  of  the  friendship  becomes 
very  hard  and  unfair.  Wherefore,  as  Solomon  advises, 
it  is  of  the  first  importance  for  the  peace  and  security 
of  life  to  have  no  dealings  with  passionate  men,  or 
such  as  easily  engage  in  disputes  and  quarrels ;'  foi 
i  Erasm.  Adag.  i.  1.  70.  2  Prov.  xxii.  24. 


260         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

they  will  perpetually  involve  us  in  strife  and  faction,  so 
that  we  shall  be  compelled  either  to  break  off  our 
friendship,  or  disregard  our  own  safety. 

PROVERB. 

(27.)  He  that  covers  a  transgression  seeks  friend- 
ship, but  he  that  repeats  a  matter  separates  very 
friends.1 

Explanation. 

There  are  two  ways  of  making  peace  and  reconcil- 
ing differences  ;  the  one  begins  with  an  amnesty,  the 
other  Avith  a  recital  of  injuries,  combined  with  apolo- 
gies and  excuses.  Now,  I  remember  that  it  was  the 
opinion  of  a  very  wise  man  and  a  great  politician,  that 
"  he  who  negotiates  a  peace,  without  recapitulating  the 
grounds  of  difference,  rather  deludes  the  minds  of  the 
parties  by  representing  the  sweetness  of  concord,  than 
reconciles  them  by  equitable  adjustment."  But  Solo- 
mon, a  wiser  man  than  he,  is  of  a  contrary  opinion, 
approving  of  amnesty  and  forbidding  recapitulation  of 
the  past.  For  in  it  are  these  disadvantages  ;  it  is  as 
the  chafing  of  a  sore  ;  it  creates  the  risk  of  a  new 
quarrel,  (for  the  parties  will  never  agree  as  to  the 
proportions  of  injuries  on  either  side)  ;  and  lastly,  it 
brings  it  to  a  matter  of  apologies  ;  whereas  either  party 
would  rather  be  thought  to  have  forgiven  an  injury 
than  to  have  accepted  an  excuse. 

PROVERB. 

(28.)  In  every  good  work  there  is  abundance  ;  btil 
where  there  are  many  words  there  is  commonly  pen 


ury.2 


Prov.  xvii.  9.  a  Prov.  xiv.  23. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  261 

Explanation. 

Herein  Solomon  makes  a  distinction  between  the 
fruit  of  the  labour  of  the  hand  and  that  of  the  tongue ; 
from  the  one  proceeds  abundance,  from  the  other  pen- 
urj.  For  it  generally  happens  that  they  who  talk 
much,  boast  much,  and  make  many  promises,  are  needy 
persons,  who  make  no  profit  of  the  things  whereof 
they  discourse.  For  the  most  part  also  they  are  no 
ways  industrious  and  active  in  point  of  work,  but 
merely  feed  and  fill  themselves  with  words,  as  with 
wind.  Surely,  as  the  poet  says,  "•  He  that  is  silent  is 
sure  :  " 1 — he  who  knows  that  he  is  succeeding  in  what 
he  is  about,  is  satisfied  and  holds  his  tongue  ;  whereas 
he  who  feels  that  he  has  got  hold  of  nothing  but  wind, 
betakes  himself  to  talking  and  boasting. 

PROVERB. 

(29.)  Open  rebuke  is  better  than  secret  love.2 

Explanation. 

This  proverb  rebukes  the  mistaken  kindness  of 
friends,  who  do  not  use  the  privilege  of  friendship 
freely  and  boldly  to  admonish  their  friends,  as  well  of 
their  errors  as  their  dangers.  "  What  can  I  do,"  says 
a  man  of  this  character,  "  or  what  steps  can  I  take  ? 
I  love  him  as  much  as  any  one,  and  if  any  misfortune 
were  to  befall  him  I  would  gladly  substitute  myself 
in  his  place  ;  but  I  know  his  disposition  well ;  if  I  deal 
freely  with  him  I  shall  offend  him,  or  at  all  events 
put  him  out  of  humour,  and  do  no  good  by  it ;  and 
I  should  sooner  estrange  him  from  his  friendship  for 
i  Ovid,  Rem.  Amor.  697.  2  Prov.  xxvii.  5. 


262          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

me,  than  from  those  things  which  he  has  fixed  his 
heart  upon."  Now  a  friend  of  this  sort  Solomon  rep- 
rehends as  weak  and  useless,  affirming  that  more  ad- 
vantage may  be  gained  from  an  open  enemy  than  from 
such  a  man  ;  for  a  man  may  chance  to  hear  by  way  of 
reproach  from  an  enemy,  what  the  friend  is  too  good- 
natured  to  utter. 

PROVERB. 

(30.)  A  wise  man  looketh  well  to  his  ways,  but  a 
fool  turneth  to  deceit.1 

Explanation. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  wisdom ;  the  one  true  and 
sound,  the  other  degenerate  and  false,  which  Solomon 
does  not  hesitate  to  term  folly.  He  who  applies  him- 
self to  the  former  takes  heed  of  his  own  ways,  fore- 
seeing dangers,  preparing  remedies,  employing  the 
assistance  of  the  good,  guarding '  himself  against  the 
wicked,  cautious  in  entering  upon  a  work,  not  unpre- 
pared for  a  retreat,  watchful  to  seize  opportunities, 
strenuous  to  remove  impediments,  and  attending  to 
many  other  things  which  concern  the  government  of 
his  own  actions  and  proceedings.  But  the  other  kind 
is  entirely  made  up  of  deceits  and  cunning  tricks,  lay- 
ing all  its  hopes  in  the  circumventing  of  others,  and 
moulding  them  to  its  pleasure  ;  which  kind  the  prov- 
erb denounces  as  being  not  only  dishonest,  but  also 
foolish.  For  in  the  first  place,  it  is  not  among  the 
things  which  are  in  our  own  power,  nor  does  it  even 
depend  on  any  certain  rule  ;  but  fresh  stratagems  are 
daily  to  be  contrived,  as  the  old  ones  are  used  up  and 
worn  out.  Secondly,  a  man  who  has  once  earned  a 

l  Prov.  xiv.  8.  15. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  265 

character  for  deceit  and  trickery,  entirely  loses  one  of 
the  principal  instruments  of  business,  which  is  credit ; 
whence  he  will  find  everything  turn  out  otherwise 
than  he  expects.  Lastly,  these  very  arts,  however  fair 
and  specious  they  may  appear,  generally  fail :  as  Taci- 
tus has  well  remarked,  "  Bold  and  crafty  counsels  are 
fair  in  promise,  hard  in  execution,  and  unfortunate  in 
issue."  * 

PROVERB. 

(31.)  Be  not  righteous  overmuch,  neither  make  thy- 
self over  wise  ;  why  shouldest  thou  destroy  thyself  be- 
fore thy  time.2 

Explanation. 

"  There  are  seasons,"  says  Tacitus,3  "  wherein  great 
virtues  are  the  surest  causes  of  ruin."  And  upon  men 
eminent  for  virtue  and  justice  it  comes  sometimes  sud- 
denly, sometimes  long  foreseen.  But  if  they  have  also 
the  gift  of  wisdom,  that  is,  if  they  are  cautious  and 
watchful  for  their  own  safety,  they  gain  this  advan- 
tage ;  that  their  ruin  comes  upon  them  all  at  once  and 
entirely  through  dark  and  secret  plots,  whereby  envy 
is  avoided,  and  destruction  assails  them  unaAvares.  But 
with  regard  to  that  overmuch  which  the  proverb  speaks 
of,  (as  these  are  not  the  words  of  a  Periander,  but  of 
Solomon,  who,  though  he  often  takes  notice  of  what  is 
bad  in  human  life,  never  enjoins  it,)  we  must  not  un- 
derstand it  of  virtue  itself  (in  which  there  can  be  no 
overmuch),  but  of  the  vain  and  invidious  affectation 
and  show  thereof.  Something  of  the  same  kind  is  sug- 
gested by  Tacitus  in  speaking  of  Lepidus  ;  placing  it 
in  the  light  of  a  miracle  that  he  never  uttered  a  servile 

o 

1  The  words  occur  in  Livy,  xxxv.  32.,  and  not  in  Tacitus. 

2  Eccles.  vii.  16.  8  Tac.  Hist.  i.  2. 


264         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

opinion,  and  yet  lived  safely  in  such  dangerous  times  : 
"  The  thought  occurs  to  me,"  says  he,  "whether  these 
things  are  controlled  by  fate,  or  whether  it  is  ?'n  our 
power  to  steer  an  intermediate  course  between  slav- 
ish obedience  and  abrupt  contumacy,  free  alike  from 
danger  and  from  indignity."  l 

PROVERB. 

(32.)  Give  opportunity  to  a  wise  man,  and  he  will 
increase  his  wisdom.2 

Explanation. 

Here  distinction  is  made,  between  the  wisdom  which 
is  grown  and  ripened  into  a  true  habit,  and  that  which 
floats  only  in  the  conceit  of  the  brain,  or  is  boasted  in 
talk  and  has  no  deep  root.  The  former,  upon  occasion 
presented  for  its  exercise,  is  instantly  excited,  made 
alert,  and  enlarged,  so  that  it  appears  greater  than  it 
was ;  but  the  latter,  which  before  the  occasion  was 
eager  and  active,  when  the  emergency  occurs,  be- 
comes amazed  and  confused  ;  so  that  even  he  who 
considered  himself  possessed  of  it,  begins  to  doubt 
whether  the  notions  he  had  formed  of  it  were  not 
mere  dreams  and  idle  speculations. 

PROVERB. 

(33.)  He  who  praises  his  friend  with  a  loud  voice, 
rising  early  in  the  morning,  it  shall  be  counted  a  curse 
to  him.8 

Explanation. 

Praises,   when  moderate    and   seasonable,    and   ex- 
pressed on  fit  occasion,  contribute  greatly  both  to  the 
i  Tae.  Ann.  iv.  20.  *  Prov.  ix.  9.  8  Prov.  xxvii.  14. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  265 

reputation  and  fortune  of  men  ;  but  when  immoderate, 
noisy,  and  unseasonably  lavished,  they  do  no  good  ; 
nay  rather  (if  we  believe  the  Proverb),  they  do  great 
harm.  For  in  the  first  place  they  openly  betray  them- 
selves as  either  springing  from  excessive  partiality,  or 
got  up  and  affected  for  the  piirpose  of  gratifying  the 
object  of  them  by  false  encomiums,  rather  than  of  hon- 
ouring him  with  his  just  attributes.  Secondly,  sparing 
and  moderate  praises  generally  invite  the  audience  to 
add  something  to  them  ;  whereas  lavish  and  immod- 
erate praises  provoke  them  to  take  off  and  detract. 
Thirdly  (which  is  the  principal  point),  he  that  is  over- 
praised becomes  an  object  of  envy ;  for  all  excessive 
praises  seem  to  point  to  the  reproach  of  others  who  are 
no  less  deserving. 

PROVERB.  • 

(34.)  As  the  face  is  reflected  in  the  water,  so  is  the 
heart  of  man  manifest  to  the  wise.1 

Explanation. 

Here  is  distinguished  beween  the  mind  of  a  wise 
man,  and  that  of  others ;  the  former  being  compared 
to  water  or  a  glass  which  represents  the  forms  and 
images  of  things  ;  the  other  to  the  earth,  or  an  un- 
polished stone,  which  give  no  reflection.  And  this 
comparison  of  the  mind  of  a  wise  man  to  a  glass  is  the 
more  proper  ;  because  in  a  glass  he  can  see  his  own 
image  together  with  the  images  of  others,  which  the 
eye  itself  without  a  glass  cannot  do.  But  if  the  mind 
of  a  wise  man  is  sufficiently  large  to  observe  and  dis- 
tinguish an  infinite  variety  of  dispositions  and  charac- 
1  Prov.  xxvii.  19. 


266          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ters,  it  only  remains  to  take  care  that  the  application 
be  as  various  as  the  representation.  "A  wise  man  will 
know  how  to  adapt  himself  to  all  sorts  of  characters."  l 
Thus  have  I  stayed  perhaps  somewhat  longer  on 
these  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  than  is  agreeable  to  the 
proportion  of  an  example,  being  led  on  by  the  dignity 
of  the  subject,  and  the  renown  of  the  author.  Neither 
was  this  in  use  only  with  the  Hebrews,  but  it  is  gen- 
erally to  be  found  in  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients,  that 
as  men  found  out  any  observation  which  they  thought 
good  for  life,  they  would  gather  it  and  express  it  in 
some  short  proverb,  parable,  or  fable.  Fables,  as  has 
been  said  elsewhere,  were  formerly  substitutes  and  sup- 
plements of  examples,  but  now  that  the  times  abound 
with  history,  the  aim  is  more  true  and  active  when  the 
mark  is  alive.  And  therefore  the  form  of  writing, 
which  of  all  others  is  fittest  for  such  variable  argu- 
ment as  that  of  negotiation  and  scattered  occasions,  is 
that  which  Machiavelli  most  wisely  and  aptly  chose  for 
government ;  namely,  Observations  or  Discourses  upon 
Histories  and  Examples.  For  knowledge  drawn  freshly 
and  in  our  view  out  of  particulars  knows  best  the  way 
back  to  particulars  again ;  and  it  contributes  much 
more  to  practice,  when  the  discourse  or  discussion  at- 
tends on  the  example,  than  when  the  example  attends 
upon  the  discourse.  And  this  is  not  only  a  point  of 
order,  but  of  substance  also.  For  when  the  example 
is  laid  down  as  the  ground  of  the  discourse,  it  is  set 
down  with  all  the  attendant  circumstances,  which  may 
sometimes  correct  the  discourse  thereupon  made,  and 
sometimes  supply  it,  as  a  very  pattern  for  imitation 

1  Ovid,  De  Arte  Amat.  i.  760. :  — 

Qui  sapit  innumcris  moribus  aptus  erit. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  267 

and  practice ;  whereas  examples  alleged  for  the  sake 
of  the  discourse,  are  cited  succinctly  and  without  par- 
ticularity, and  like  slaves  only  wait  upon  the  demands 
of  the  discourse. 

But  it  is  worth  while  to  observe  this  difference ;  that 
as  Histories  of  Times  are  the  best  ground  for  such  dis- 
course upon  governments,  as  Machiavelli  handles ;  so 
Histories  of  Lives  are  the  most  proper  for  discourse  on 
business,  because  they  include  all  kinds  of  occasions 
and  transactions,  both  great  and  small.  Nay,  we 
may  find  a  ground  for  discourse  on  business  fitter 
than  them  both,  which  is  discourse  upon  such  Letters 
as  are  wise  and  weighty,  like  those  of  Cicero  to  Atti- 
cus,  and  others ;  for  letters  have  a  closer  and  more 
lively  representation  of  business,  than  either  annals  or 
lives.  Thus  have  we  spoken  both  of  the  matter  and 
form  of  this  first  part  of  the  knowledge  of  negotia- 
tion touching  scattered  occasions,  which  we  note  to 
be  deficient. 

But  yet  there  is  another  part  of  this  knowledge, 
which  differs  as  much  from  that  whereof  we  have 
spoken,  as  general  wisdom  differs  from  wisdom  for 
oneself;  the  one  moving  as  it  were  from  the  centre 
to  the  circumference,  the  other  from  the  circumference 
to  the  centre.  For  there  is  a  wisdom  of  imparting 
counsel  to  others,  and  there  is  a  wisdom  of  foresight 
for  one's  own  fortunes ;  and  these  sometimes  meet, 
but  oftener  sever.  For  many  are  wise  in  their  own 
ways,  who  yet  are  weak  for  government  or  counsel, 
like  ants,  which  are  wise  creatures  for  themselves,  but 
very  hurtful  for  the  garden.  This  wisdom  for  oneself 
the  Romans,  though  excellent  guardians  of  their  coun- 
try, took  much  knowledge  of;  "  For,"  says  the  comic 


268          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

poet,  "  a  wise  man  fashions  his  fortune  for  himself."  * 
And  it  grew  into  an  adage  amongst  them,  "  Every  man 
is  the  maker  of  his  own  fortune."  And  Livy  attributes 
it  to  the  elder  Cato,  "Such  was  his  vigour  of  mind  and 
understanding,  that  wherever  he  had  been  born,  he 
would  have  made  his  fortune."2 

This  kind  of  wisdom,  if  it  be  too  much  declared  and 
professed,  has  always  been  regarded  as  not  only  impol- 
itic, but  unlucky  and  ill-omened ;  as  was  observed  in 
Timotheus  the  Athenian,  who  having  done  many  great 
services  to  the  state  in  his  government,  and  giving  the 
customary  account  thereof  to  the  people,  concluded 
every  particular  with  this  clause,  "  And  in  this  fortune 
had  no  part."3  But  it  happened  that  he  never  pros- 
pered in  anything  he  took  in  hand  afterwards  ;  for  this 
is  too  high  and  too  arrogant,  savouring  of  that  which 
Ezekiel  says  of  Pharaoh,  "  Thou  sayest,  my  river  is 
mine  own,  and  I  have  made  it  for  myself;"4  or  of  that 
which  Habakkuk  says,  "  They  exult  and  offer  sacri- 
fices to  their  net;  "6  or  of  that  which  the  poet  expresses 
of  Mezentius  the  despiser  of  the  gods :  — 

Dextra  mihi  Deus,  et  telum  quod  missile  libro 
Nunc  adsint."  8 

Lastly,  Julius  Caesar  never,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  be- 
trayed the  weakness  of  his  secret  thoughts,  except  in 
a  similar  kind  of  speech.  For  when  the  augur  brought 
him  word  that  the  entrails  were  not  favourable,  he 
murmured  in  a  low  voice,  "  They  will  be  more  favour- 

1  Plaut.  Trinummus,  ii.  2.  84.  2  Livy,  xxxix.  40. 

*  Plut.  in  Sylla,  c.  6.  «  Ezek.  xxix.  3. 

6Habak.  i/16. 
«  Virg.  JEn.  x.  773. :  — 

My  own  right  hand  and  sword  assist  my  stroke, 

These  gods  alone  Mezentius  will  invoke. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  269 

able  when  I  choose  ;"*  which  speech  did  not  long  pre- 
cede the  misfortune  of  his  death.  For  this  excess  of 
confidence  was  ever  as  unlucky  as  unhallowed ;  and 
therefore  great  and  truly  wise  men  have  thought  it 
right  to  ascribe  their  successes  to  their  fortune,  and 
not  to  their  skill  or  energy.  Thus  Sylla  surnamed 
himself  "the  Fortunate,"2  not  "the  Great:"  and 
Caesar  (better  in  this  instance  than  the  last)  said  to 
the  master  of  the  ship,  "  You  carry  Caesar  and  his  for- 
tune."3 

Nevertheless,  proverbs  such  as  these,  "  Every  man  is 
the  architect  of  his  own  fortune ;"  "A  wise  man  shall 
rule  over  the  stars ; "  "  No  path  is  impervious  to  vir- 
tue;"4 and  the  like;  if  taken  and  used  as  spurs  to 
industry,  and  not  as  stirrups  to  insolence,  rather  to 
beget  in  men  resolution  and  strength  of  judgment 
than  arrogance  or  outward  declaration,  have  ever  been 
rightly  held  sound  and  good,  and  are  doubtless  im- 
printed in  the  greatest  minds,  so  as  sometimes  they 
can  scarce  contain  such  opinions  within ;  as  we  see  in 
Augustus  Caesar,  (who,  compared  with  his  uncle,  was 
rather  unlike  than  inferior,  though  decidedly  a  man  of 
more  moderation),  how  on  his  death-bed  he  desired  his 
friends  around  him  to  give  him  a  "  Plaudite  "  when  he 
expired,  as  if  he  were  conscious  to  himself  that  he  had 
well  played  his  part  in  life.5  This  part  of  knowledge  I 
report  also  as  deficient ;  not  but  that  it  is  used  and  prac- 
tised even  more  than  is  fit,  but  it  has  not  been  handled 
in  books.  And  therefore  according  to  my  custom,  I 
will  as  before  set  down  some  heads  or  passages  of  it, 

l  Sueton.  in  Julio,  c.  77.  2  Plut.  in  Sylla,  c.  6. 

«  Plut.  de  Roman.  Fort.  p.  319.  *  Ovid,  Met.  xiv.  113. 

6  Sueton.  in  Aug.  c.  99. 


270          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

and  call  it  the  Architect  of  Fortune,  or  the  Knowledge 
of  Advancement  in  Life. 

Wherein  at  first  sight  I  shall  appear  to  handle  a  new 
and  unwonted  argument,  in  teaching  men  how  to  raise 
and  make  their  fortune  ;  a  doctrine  indeed,  wherein 
every  man  perchance  will  be  ready  to  yield  himself  a 
disciple,  till  he  has  experience  of  the  difficulty  thereof. 
For  the  things  necessary  for  the  acquisition  of  fortune, 
are  neither  fewer  nor  less  difficult  nor  lighter  than 
those  to  obtain  virtue ;  and  it  is  as  hard  and  severe  a 
thing  to  be  a  true  politician,  as  to  be  truly  moral.  But 
the  handling  hereof  concerns  learning  greatly,  both  in 
honour  and  substance ;  in  honour  principally,  that  prag- 
matical men  may  not  imagine  that  learning  is  like  a 
lark,  which  can  mount  and  sing  and  please  itself  and 
nothing  else  ;  but  may  know  that  it  rather  partakes  of 
the  nature  of  a  hawk,  which  can  soar  aloft,  and  can  also 
descend  and  strike  upon  its  prey  at  pleasure.  Again, 
it  tends  to  the  perfection  of  learning,  because  it  is  the 
perfect  law  of  the  inquiry  of  truth,  "  that  nothing  be 
in  the  globe  of  matter  which  has  not  its  parallel  in  the 
globe  of  crystal  or  the  understanding;"  that  is,  that 
there  be  nothing  in  practice,  whereof  there  is  no  theory 
and  doctrine.  Not  however  that  learning  admires  or 
esteems  this  architecture  of  fortune  otherwise  than  as 
an  inferior  work.  For  no  man's  fortune  can  be  an  end 
worthy  of  the  gift  of  being  that  has  been  given  him  by 
God ;  and  often  the  worthiest  men  abandon  their  for- 
tunes willingly,  that  they  may  have  leisure  for  higher 
pursuits.  But  nevertheless,  fortune  as  an  instrument 
of  virtue  and  merit  deserves  its  own  speculation  and 
doctrine. 

To  this  doctrine  are  attached  certain  precepts,  some 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  271 

summary,  and  some  scattered  or  various ;  whereof  the 
former  relate  to  the  just  knowledge  of  ourselves  and 
others.  Let  the  first  precept  then  (on  which  the 
knowledge  of  others  turns)  be  set  down  as  this :  that 
we  obtain  (as  far  as  we  can)  that  window  which  Moinus 
required;1  who  seeing  in  the  frame  of  man's  heart  such 
angles  and  recesses  found  fault  that  there  was  not  a 
window  to  look  into  its  mysterious  and  tortuous  wind- 
ings. This  window  we  shall  obtain  by  carefully  pro- 
curing good  information  of  the  particular  persons  with 
whom  we  have  to  deal ;  their  natures,  their  desires  and 
ends,  their  customs  and  fashions,  their  helps  and  ad- 
vantages, with  their  principal  means  of  sitpport  and  in- 
fluence ;  so  again  their  weaknesses  and  disadvantages, 
where  they  lie  most  open  and  obnoxious  ;  their  friends, 
factions,  patrons  and  clients ;  their  enemies,  enviers, 
and  competitors ;  their  moods  and  times  ; 

(Sola  viri  raolles  aditus  et  tempora  noris):  2 

lastly,  their  principles,  fashions,  prescribed  rules,  and 
the  like ;  and  this  not  only  of  particular  persons,  but 
also  of  the  particular  actions  which  are  on  foot  from 
time  to  time,  and  as  it  were  under  the  anvil ;  how  they 
are  directed  and  succeed,  by  whom  promoted  or  op- 
posed, what  is  their  weight  and  importance,  what  con- 
sequences they  involve,  and  the  like.  For  the  knowl- 
edge of  present  actions  is  not  only  material  in  itself, 
but  without  it  also  the  knowledge  of  persons  will  be 
very  treacherous  and  erroneous ;  for  men  change  with 
actions,  and  whilst  they  are  involved  and  engaged  in 
them  they  are  one,  and  when  they  return  to  their  na- 

1  Lucian  in  Hermotim.  20 

8  Virg.  &n.  iv.  423. :  — 

His  times  of  access  you  alone  can  find, 
And  know  the  soft  approaches  to  his  mind. 


272         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ture  they  are  another.  These  informations  of  partic- 
ulars touching  persons  and  actions,  are  as  the  minor 
propositions  in  every  active  syllogism;  for  no  truth 
or  excellence  of  observations  or  axioms  (whence  the 
major  political  propositions  are  drawn)  can  suffice  to 
ground  a  conclusion,  if  there  be  error  in  the  minor 
proposition.  For  the  possibility  of  this  knowledge  Sol- 
omon is  our  surety ;  who  says,  "  Counsel  in  the  heart 
of  man  is  like  deep  water,  but  a  man  of  understanding 
will  draw  it  out." l  And  although  the  knowledge  itself 
falls  not  under  precept,  because  it  is  of  individuals,  yet 
the  instructions  for  obtaining  it  may  be  laid  down  with 
advantage. 

Knowledge  of  men  may  be  derived  and  obtained  in 
six  ways ;  by  their  countenances  and  expressions,  their 
words,  their  actions,  their  dispositions,  their  ends,  and 
lastly,  by  the  reports  of  others.  With  regard  to  the 
countenance,  be  not  influenced  by  the  old  adage, 
"Trust  not  to  a  man's  face;"2  for  though  this  may 
not  be  wrongly  said  of  the  general  outward  carriage 
of  the  face  and  action,  yet  there  are  some  more  subtle 
motions  and  labours  of  the  eyes,  mouth,  countenance, 
and  gesture,  by  which  (as  Q.  Cicero  elegantly  ex- 
presses it),  the  "door  of  the  mind,"3  is  unlocked  and 
opened.  Who  more  close  than  Tiberius  Caesar  ?  Yet 
Tacitus,  in  noting  the  different  character  and  manner 
of  speaking  which  he  employed  in  commending  the 
exploits  of  Germanicus  and  Drusus  to  the  Senate, 
says,  that  his  praises  of  Germanicus  were  set  forth 
"  in  words  which  appeared  rather  studied  for  outward 
effect,  than  as  if  he  really  felt  them  ; "  but  of  his 
praises  of  Drusus,  he  says,  "  that  he  said  less,  but 

1  Prov.  xx.  5.  2  Juv.  ii.  8.:  —  Front!  nulla  fides. 

»  De  Pet.  Cons.  §  11. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  273 

spoke  more  earnestly  and  sincerely."1  Again,  Taci- 
tus in  speaking  of  this  same  Tiberius,  and  remarking 
on  some  speech,  as  being  somewhat  less  ambiguous, 
says,  "  At  other  times  he  appeared  to  have  a  difficulty 
with  his  words,  but  he  spoke  more  freely,  when  he 
took  anybody's  part;"2  so  that  it  is  hard  to  find  any 
man  so  skilled  and  perfect  in  the  art  of  dissimulation, 
or  any  countenance  so  controlled  or  commanded  (as 
he  calls  it)  as  to  sever  from  a  feigned  and  dissembling 
tale  all  these  marks,  and  prevent  the  style  from  being 
either  more  careless,  or  more  adorned,  or  more  tedious 
and  wandering,  or  more  dry  and  hard,  than  usual. 

As  for  words,  though  they  be  (as  physicians  say  of 
waters)  full  of  trickery  and  deceit,  yet  they  are  ex- 
cellently detected  in  two  ways ;  namely,  either  when 
they  are  spoken  on  the  sudden,  or  in  passion.  Thus  we 
see  Tiberius,  being  suddenly  incensed  at  some  stinging 
words  of  Agrippina,  and  thrown  a  little  off  his  guard, 
advanced  a  step  out  of  his  natural  dissimulation.  u  These 
words  (says  Tacitus)  drew  from  him  a  voice  seldom 
heard  from  that  dark  bosom,  and  taking  her  up  sharply, 
he  reminded  her  in  a  Greek  verse  that  she  was  thus 
offended,  because  she  did  not  reign."3  And  therefore 
the  poet  elegantly  calls  passions,  "  tortures,"  which 
urge  men  to  confess  their  secrets: 

Vino  tortus  et  ira.4 

And  experience  shows  that  there  are  very  few  men 
so  true  to  their  own  secrets,  and  so  settled  in  their 
purpose,  but  that  sometimes  through  anger,  sometimes 
through  bravado,  sometimes  through  affection  for  their 

l  Tacit.  Ann.  i.  52.  2  Ib.  iv.  31.  8  Ib.  iv.  52. 

*  Hor.  Ep.  i.  18.  38. :  — 

Tortured  with  wine  and  wrath. 
VOL.  IX.  18 


274         TRANSLATION  OF  THE   "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

friends,  sometimes  through  a  weakness  of  mind  unable 
any  longer  to  bear  the  burden  of  its  thoughts,  and 
sometimes  through  some  other  affection,  they  open  and 
communicate  their  secret  thoughts  and  feelings  ;  espe- 
cially if  they  be  put  to  it  with  a  counter-dissimulation 
according  to  the  Spanish  proverb,  "  Tell  a  lie,  and  find 
a  truth." 

Neither  should  deeds,  though  the  most  assured 
pledges  which  the  human  mind  can  give,  be  entirely 
trusted,  without  a  judicious  and  careful  consideration 
of  their  magnitude  and  nature.  For  the  saying  is  most 
true,  "  that  fraud  begins  by  winning  credit  in  small 
things,  that  it  may  deceive  with  greater  advantage  ;  " l 
and  the  Italian  thinks  himself  upon  the  point  of  being 
bought  and  sold,  if  he  is  better  used  than  he  was  wont 
to  be,  without  manifest  cause.  For  small  favours  do 
but  quiet  and  lull  to  sleep  men's  caution  and  industry, 
whence  they  are  rightly  called  by  Demosthenes,  "  sops 
to  feed  sloth."2  Again,  the  treacherous  and  ambigu- 
ous character  of  some  deeds,  even  such  as  are  taken 
for  favours,  may  be  seen  from  that  deception  which 
Mucianus  practised  on  Antonius  Primus ;  when  after 
the  hollow  and  unfaithful  reconciliation  which  was  made 
between  them,  he  advanced  many  of  the  friends  of 
Antonius  to  great  offices :  "  At  the  same  time  he  be- 
stows on  his  friends  tribuneships  and  governments;"3 
wherein,  under  pretence  of  strengthening  Antonius, 
he  entirely  disarmed  and  isolated  him  by  winning  his 
friends. 

But  the  surest  key  to  unlock  the  minds  of  men,  is 
by  searching  and  thoroughly  understanding  either  theif 

1  Livy,  xxviii.  42. 

2  Cf.  Dem.  Olynth.  Hi.  33.,  and  1  Philipp.  towards  the  end. 
«  Tac.  Hist.  iv.  39. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  275 

natures  and  characters,  or  their  intentions  and  ends  ; 
wherein  the  weaker  and  more  simple  sort  are  best  in- 
terpreted by  their  natures,  but  the  wiser  and  more 
reserved  by  their  ends.  For  it  was  both  pleasantly 
and  wisely  said,  though  I  think  very  untruly,  by  a 
nuncio  of  the  Pope,  on  his  return  from  an  embassy 
to  a  certain  nation,  where  he  had  served  as  legate ; 
who,  when  his  opinion  was  asked  touching  the  ap- 
pointment of  his  successor,  gave  as  his  advice,  "  in  no 
case  to  send  one  who  was  remarkably  wise,  but  one 
rather  of  moderate  abilities  ;  because  (said  he)  no  very 
wise  man  would  ever  imagine  what  they  in  that  coun- 
try were  likely  to  do."  And  certainly  it  is  a  very  fre- 
quent error,  especially  among  wise  men,  to  measure 
others  by  the  standard  of  their  own  genius,  and  to 
shoot  over  the  mark,  by  supposing  that  men  have 
deeper  ends  in  view,  and  more  subtle  schemes  than 
ever  entered  into  their  minds ;  as  is  elegantly  expressed 
by  the  Italian  proverb,  which  remarks,  "  There  is  al- 
ways less  money,  less  wisdom,  and  less  faith,  than  men 
imagine."  Wherefore  in  men  of  a  meaner  capacity, 
because  they  do  many  foolish  things,  we  must  form  our 
opinion  rather  from  the  propensities  of  their  natures, 
than  from  their  designs  and  ends. 

Princes  also  (though  for  a  very  different  reason) 
are  best  interpreted  by  their  natures,  but  private  per- 
sons by  their  ends.  For  princes  being  at  the  summit 
of  human  desires,  have  for  the  most  part  no  particular 
ends  whereto  they  earnestly  and  constantly  aspire,  by 
their  position  and  distance  from  which  a  measure  and 
scale  of  the  rest  of  their  actions  might  be  taken  ;  and 
this  is  one  of  the  principal  causes  why  their  hearts  are 
fas  the  Scriptures  declare)  inscrutable.1  But  every 

1  Pro.  xxv.  3. 


276          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

private  person  is  like  a  traveller  striving  earnestly  to 
arrive  at  the  end  of  his  journey  where  he  may  rest ; 
whereby  it  is  not  difficult  to  conjecture  what  he  will 
do,  and  what  he  will  not  do.  For  if  it  be  a  means  to 
his  end  he  will  probably  do  it ;  but  if  opposed  to  his 
end,  he  will  probably  not  do  it.  Nor  is  it  enough  to 
inform  ourselves  only  of  the  variety  of  men's  natures 
and  ends  simply ;  but  we  should  also  examine  them  com- 
paratively, and  find  what  it  is  that  predominates  and 
directs  the  rest.  Thus,  we  see,  when  Tigellinus  saw 
himself  outstripped  by  Petronius  Turpilianus  in  pro- 
viding pleasures  and  catering  to  Nero's  humours,  "  he 
wrought"  (says  Tacitus)  "  on  Nero's  fears,"1  whereby 
he  displaced  his  rival. 

As  for  the  knowing  of  men  at  second  hand  from  the 
reports  of  others,  a  few  words  will  suffice.  Men's 
weaknesses  and  faults  are  best  knowrn  from  their  ene- 
mies, their  virtues  and  abilities  from  their  friends,  their 
customs  and  times  from  their  servants,  their  opinions 
and  thoughts  from  their  familiar  friends,  with  whom 
they  discourse  most.  General  fame  is  light,  and  the 
judgments  of  superiors  are  not  much  to  be  trusted ; 
for  to  them  men  are  more  masked.  "  The  truest  char- 
acter comes  from  a  man's  own  household."2 

But  to  all  this  inquiry  the  most  compendious  way 
rests  in  three  things ;  the  first  is  to  have  a  general  ac- 
quaintance with  those  who  have  a  varied  and  extensive 
knowledge  both  of  persons  and  things ;  but  especially 
to  endeavour  to  have  at  least  some  particular  friends 
who,  according  to  the  diversity  of  business  and  the 
diversity  of  persons,  can  give  perfect  and  solid  intelli- 
gence in  every  several  kind.  The  second  is  to  keep  a 
discreet  temper  and  mediocrity  both  in  liberty  of  speech 
l  Tac.  Ann.  xiv.  57.  2  Q.  Cicero,  De  Pet.  Cons.  5. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  277 

and  in  secrecy;  in  most  cases  using  liberty,  but  secrecy 
when  the  occasion  requires  it.  For  liberty  of  speech 
invites  and  provokes  a  similar  liberty  in  others,  and  so 
brings  much  to  a  man's  knowledge ;  but  secrecy  induces 
trust,  so  that  men  like  to  deposit  their  secrets  there,  as 
in  their  own  bosom.  The  last  is  the  gradual  reducing 
of  a  man's  self  to  such  a  watchful  and  ready  habit  of 
mind,  that  in  every  conference  and  action  he  may  both 
carry  on  the  matter  in  hand,  and  also  observe  other  in- 
cidents. For  as  Epictetus  lays  down  that  a  philoso- 
pher in  every  particular  action  should  say  to  himself, 
"  I  both  wish  to  do  this,  and  also  to  keep  to  my  rule  : 5>1 
so  a  political  man  in  everything  should  inwardly  re- 
solve, "  I  will  both  do  this,  and  learn  something  more 
for  future  use."  Wherefore  those  who  are  so  intent 
and  absorbed  in  the  matter  which  they  have  in  hand, 
that  they  have  not  even  a  thought  to  spare  for  any- 
thing that  may  turn  up  by  the  way  (which  Montaigne 
confesses  to  have  been  his  weakness2),  are  indeed  the 
best  servants  of  kings  and  commonwealths,  but  fail  in 
advancing  their  own  fortunes.  Meanwhile  special  care 
should  be  taken  to  restrain  too  great  an  energy  and 
zeal  of  mind,  lest  by  much  knowledge  we  be  drawn 
on  to  much  meddling,  than  which  nothing  is  more  un- 
fortunate and  rash.  So  that  this  variety  of  knowledge 
of  persons  and  things,  which  I  recommend  to  be  gained, 
returns  in  the  end  only  to  this,  that  we  make  a  more 
judicious  choice  of  the  actions  we  undertake,  and  of 
the  persons  whose  assistance  we  use ;  whereby  we  may 
manage  and  conduct  everything  with  more  safety  and 
iexterity. 

Next  to  the  knowledo-e  of  others  comes  the  knowl- 

O 

l  Epict.  Enclrii    c.  9.  '2  Cf.  Essay  De  1'Utilite  et  de  l'Honnettet4. 


278         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

edge  of  self.  And  here,  we  must  use  even  greater 
care  in  gaining  good  and  Accurate  information  touching 
ourselves,  than  touching  others ;  since  the  oracle  "know 
thyself"  is 'not  only  a  rule  of  universal  wisdom,  but  has 
a  special  place  in  politics.  For  St.  James  says  well. 
"  That  he  who  looks  at  his  face  in  a  glass,  yet  sud- 
denly forgets  what  manner  of  man  he  was  ;'n  so  that 
there  is  need  of  very  frequent  inspection.  And  this 
holds  good  likewise  in  politics,  though  the  glasses  are 
different ;  for  the  divine  glass  in  which  we  ought  to 
behold  ourselves  is  the  Word  of  God,  but  the  political 
glass  is  nothing  else  than  the  state  of  the  world  or 
times  wherein  we  live. 

Men  ought  therefore  to  take  an  accurate  and  impar- 
tial survey  of  their  own  abilities,  virtues,  and  helps ; 
and  again,  of  their  wants,  inabilities,  and  impediments ; 
making  the  account  in  such  a  manner  that  the  former 
are  always  estimated  rather  more,  and  the  latter  rather 
less  than  they  really  are.  From  this  examination  they 
should  frame  the  following  considerations. 

First,  to  consider  how  their  natural  and  moral  con- 
stitution sort  with  the  general  state  of  the  times ; 
which  if  they  find  agreeable  and  consonant,  then  in 
all  things  to  give  themselves  more  scope  and  liberty, 
and  indulge  their  dispositions  ;  but  if  there  be  any- 
thing differing  and  discordant,  then  in  the  whole  course 
of  their  life  to  be  more  close,  retired,  and  reserved. 
And  this  we  see  in  Tiberius,  who  being  conscious  that 
his  tastes  did  not  well  suit  with  the  age,  never  attended 
the  public  games,  and  during  the  twelve  last  years  of 
his  life  never  even  went  into  the  Senate  ;  whereas 
Augustus  lived  ever  in  men's  eyes,  which  Tacitus  ob- 

l  St.  James,  i.  23,  24. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  279 

serves  :  "  Tiberius's  habits  (says  he)  were  different."  l 
Pericles  also  acted  on  the  same  principle. 

Secondly,  to  consider  how  their  nature  sorts  with 
the  professions  and  courses  of  life  which  are  in  use 
and  repute,  and  whereof  they  have  to  make  election  ; 
so  that  if  their  profession  is  not  already  determined, 
they  may  make  choice  of  that  which  is  most  fit  and 
agreeable  to  their  disposition ;  but  if  they  have  already 
entered  on  a  path  of  life  for  which  they  are  not  natural- 
ly suited,  that  they  may  leave  it  the  first  opportunity, 
and  adopt  a  fresh  profession.  And  this  we  see  was 
done  by  Valentine  Borgia,  who  was  brought  up  by  his 
father  to  the  priesthood,  but  afterwards  quitted  it  in 
obedience  to  his  own  inclination,  and  betook  himself 
to  a  military  life;  although  equally  unworthy  of  the 
office  of  prince  and  priest,  seeing  that  he  dishonoured 
both.2 

Thirdly,  to  consider  how  they  sort  with  their  equals 
and  rivals,  whom  they  are  like  to  have  as  competitors 
in  their  fortune  ;  and  to  take  that  course  of  life  where- 
in there  is  the  greatest^  scarcity  of  distinguished  men, 
and  they  themselves  are  likely  to  be  most  eminent. 
As  Julius  Caesar  did,  who  at  first  was  an  orator  and 
pleader,  and  devoted  himself  entirely  to  a  civil  life ; 
but  when  he  saw  how  Cicero,  Hortensius,  and  Ca- 
tulus  excelled  in  eloquence,  and  that  there  was  no 
man  of  any  great  reputation  in  military  matters  but 
Pompey,  he  forsook  the  course  he  had  begun,  and  bid- 
ding a  long  farewell  to  a  civil  greatness  transferred  his 
designs  to  the  arts  of  a  soldier  and  a  general ;  whereby 
he  mounted  to  the  highest  power  of  the  state. 

Fourthly,  to  consider  their  own  nature  and  disposi- 

1  Tacit.  Ann.  i.  54.  2  Guicciard.  vi.  3. 


280         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

tion  in  the  choice  of  their  friends  and  dependences. 
For  different  natures  require  different  kinds  of  friends: 
to  some  is  suited  such  as  are  solemn  and  silent ;  to 
others  such  as  are  bold  and  arrogant,  and  so  on.  And 
it  is  worthy  of  mark  what  kind  of  men  the  friends  of 
Julius  Caesar  were  (namely,  Antony,  Hirtius,  Pansa, 
Oppius,  Balbus,  Dolabella,  Pollio,  and  the  rest),  who 
used  to  swear,  "  that  they  were  ready  to  die,  so  Caesar 
might  live,"1  displaying  an  infinite  affection  for  Caesar, 
but  arrogance  and  contempt  towards  every  one  else ; 
men  active  in  the  execution  of  business,  but  of  no 
great  character  or  reputation. 

Fifthly,  to  take  especial  heed  how  they  guide  them- 
selves by  examples,  and  not  vainly  to  endeavour  to 
frame  themselves  upon  other  men's  models  ;  as  if  what 
is  open  to  others  must  needs  be  open  to  them,  not  at 
all  reflecting  how  far  the  nature  and  character  of  their 
models  may  differ  from  their  own.  And  it  was  this 
error  into  which  Pompey  evidently  fell,  who,  as  Cicero 
has  recorded,  was  so  often  wont  to  say,  "  Sylla  could 
do  this,  why  should  not  I?"2  Wherein  he  was  much 
deceived,  the  nature  and  proceedings  of  himself  and 
Sylla  being  as  far  removed  as  the  heaven  from  the 
earth  ;  the  one  being  fierce,  violent,  and  in  everything 
pressing  on  to  the  end;  the  other  solemn,  respectful  of 
the  laws,  and  regulating  everything  with  a  view  to  his 
dignity  and  character,  which  made  him  far  less  strong 
and  effectual  in  accomplishing  his  designs.  There  are 
likewise  other  precepts  of  this  nature,  but  these  will  be 
enough  for  an  example  of  the  rest. 

But  it  is  not  enough  for  a  man  only  to  know  him- 
self; for  he  should  consider  also  of  the  best  way  to  set 
i  Plut.  in  Cses.  3.  «  Cic.  Ep.  ad  Alt.  ix.  10. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  281 

himself  forth  to  advantage ;  to  disclose  and  reveal  him- 
self ;  and  lastly,  to  turn  and  shape  himself  according 
to  occasion.  Now  for  the  first  we  see  nothing  more 
usual  than  for  the  worse  man  to  make  the  better  ex- 
ternal show.  It  is  therefore  no  unimportant  attribute 
of  prudence  in  a  man  to  be  able  to  set  forth  to  advan- 
tage before  others,  with  grace  and  skill,  his  virtues, 
fortunes,  and  merits  (which  may  be  done  without  ar- 
rogance or  breeding  disgust)  ;  and  again,  to  cover  arti- 
ficially his  weaknesses,  defects,  misfortunes,  and  dis- 
graces ;  dwelling  upon  the  former  and  turning  them 
to  the  light,  sliding  from  the  latter  or  explaining  them 
away  by  apt  interpretations,  and  the  like.  Tacitus 
says  of  Mucianus,  the  wisest  and  most  active  politician 
of  his  time,  "  That  he  had  a  certain  art  of  setting  forth 

O 

to  advantage  every  thing  he  said  or  did."  1  And  it 
requires  indeed  some  art,  lest  it  become  wearisome  and 
contemptible ;  but  yet  it  is  true  that  ostentation,  though 
carried  to  the  first  degree  of  vanity,  is  rather  a  vice 
in  morals  than  in  policy.  For  as  it  is  said  of  calumny, 
"  calumniate  boldly,  for  some  of  it  will  stick,"  so  it 
may  be  said  of  ostentation  (except  it  be  in  a  ridiculous 
degree  of  deformity),  "  boldly  sound  your  own  praises, 
and  some  of  them  will  stick."  It  will  stick  with  the 
more  ignorant  and  the  populace,  though  men  of  wis- 
dom may  smile  at  it ;  and  the  reputation  won  with 
many  will  amply  countervail  the  disdain  of  a  few.  But 
if  this  self-display  whereof  I  am  speaking  be  cai-ried 
with  decency  and  judgment,  as  with  a  natural,  candid, 
and  ingenuous  bearing  ;  or  if  it  be  employed  in  times 
of  danger,  as  by  military  persons  in  the  time  of  war, 
or  at  times  when  others  are  most  envied  ;  or  if  what  a 
i  Tac.  Hist.  ii.  80. 


282          TRANSLATION  OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

man  says  in  his  own  praises  appears  to  drop  carelessly 
and  unintentionally,  without  being  dwelt  upon  too  long 
or  too  seriously  ;  or  if  a  man  at  the  same  time  that  he 
praises  does  not  refrain  from  ridiculing  and  finding  fault 
with  himself;  or  if  he  do  it  not  spontaneously,  but  ap- 
pears provoked  and  challenged  to  it  by  the  reproaches 
and  insolence  of  others,  it  adds  greatly  to  his  reputa- 
tion. And  surely  no  small  number  of  those  who  are 
of  a  solid  nature,  and  who  from  the  want  of  this  ven- 
tosity  cannot  spread  all  sail  in  pursuit  of  their  own 
honour,  suffer  some  prejudice  and  lose  dignity  by  their 
moderation. 

But  for  this  enhancement  of  virtue,  though  some 

'  O 

persons  of  weaker  judgment  and  perhaps  too  scrupu- 
lous morality  may  disapprove  of  it,  yet  no  one  will 
deny  that  we  ought  at  least  to  take  care  that  virtue  be 
not  undervalued  and  unduly  debased  through  neglect. 
This  depreciation  in  the  price  of  virtue  may  be  effected 
in  three  ways :  first,  by  a  man  offering  and  obtruding 
himself  and  his  services  in  any  business  when  he  is 
unasked  and  tincalled  for ;  wherein  men  think  he  is 
rewarded,  if  he  be  not  rejected.  Secondly,  by  doing 
too  much  at  the  commencement  of  an  action,  and  by 
performing  all  at  once  what  ought  to  be  done  by  de- 
grees ;  which  in  matters  well  managed  procures  a  pre- 
mature favour  at  first,  but  in  the  end  induces  satiety. 
Thirdly,  by  feeling  too  soon  and  easily  the  fruit  of 
virtue  in  commendation,  applause,  honour,  and  favour, 
and  being  content  therewith ;  on  which  there  is  a 
prudent  warning,  "  Take  care  lest  you  appear  unac- 
customed to  great  things  if  you  are  thus  delighted  by 
a  small  thing,  as  if  it  were  great."  l 

1  Rhetor,  ad  Heren.  iv.  4. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  283 

But  a  diligent  covering  of  defects  is  of  no  less  im- 
portance than  a  prudent  and  skilful  display  of  virtues. 
Defects  may  be  principally  concealed  in  three  ways 
and  as  it  were  under  three  coverts  ;  namely,  caution, 
colour,  and  confidence.  Caution  is,  when  men  dis- 
creetly avoid  those  things  to  which  they  are  not  equal ; 
whereas  contrariwise  bold  and  unquiet  spirits  thrust 
themselves  without  reflection  into  matters  of  which 
they  have  no  experience,  and  so  publish  and  proclaim 
all  their  defects.  Colour  is,  when  men  warily  and  skil- 
fully make  and  prepare  a  way  for  themselves,  for  a 
favourable  and  convenient  construction  of  their  faults 
or  wants ;  as  proceeding  from  a  better  cause,  or  in- 
tended for  some  other  purpose,  than  is  commonly  im- 
agined. For  as  to  the  concealment  of  vice,  it  is  well 
said  by  the  poet,  that  "  vice  often  hides  itself  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  virtue."  1  And  therefore,  whatso- 
ever want  a  man  has,  he  must  take  care  to  borrow  the 
mask  and  colour  of  the  neighbouring  virtue  that  shad- 
ows it ;  as  if  he  be  dull,  he  must  affect  gravity  ;  if  a 
coward,  mildness  ;  and  so  on.  It  will  be  of  advantage 
also  for  a  man  to  frame  and  spread  abroad  some  prob- 
able reason  why  he  shrunk  from  doing  his  best,  that 
the  want  of  power  may  be  imputed  to  want  of  will. 
As  to  confidence,  it  is  indeed  an  impudent,  but  yet  the 
surest  and  most  effectual  remedy ;  namely,  for  a  man 
to  profess  to  depreciate  and  despise  whatsoever  he  can- 
not obtain  ;  after  the  principle  of  prudent  merchants, 
whose  business  and  custom  it  is  to  raise  the  price  of 
their  own  commodities,  and  to  beat  dowTi  the  price  of 
others.  But  there  is  a  confidence  which  surpasses  this 
other  in  impudence  ;  and  this  is,  for  a  man  to  brazen 

1  Ovid,  Art.  Amat.  ii.  662. :  Saepe  latet  vitium  proximitate  boni. 


284          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

out  his  own  defects,  by  putting  them  forward  and  dis- 
playing them  to  view ;  as  if  he  believed  himself  espe- 
cially eminent  in  those  things  wherein  he  is  deficient. 
And  the  more  easily  to  impose  on  others,  he  should 
appear  to  have  least  opinion  of  himself  in  those  things 
wherein  he  is  really  the  best :  just  as  we  see  it  is  the 
practice  of  poets,  who  when  they  recite  their  verses, 
and  you  except  to  any,  will  immediately  say,  "  that 
that  line  cost  them  more  labour  than  any  of  the  rest ;  " 
and  presently  they  will  bring  forward  some  other  verse, 
which  they  know  well  enough  to  be  the  best  in  the 
number  and  the  least  open  to  objection,  and  seeming 
to  suspect  it  themselves  they  will  ask  your  opinion  of 
it.  But  above  all,  if  a  man  means  to  make  a  good 
figure  and  maintain  his  just  position  in  the  world,  I 
consider  it  of  the  greatest  importance  to  him,  not  to 
show  himself  disarmed  and  exposed  to  scorn  and  injury 
by  too  much  goodness  and  sweetness  of  nature ;  but 
rather  in  everything  to  exhibit  from  time  to  time  some 
sparks  of  a  free  and  noble  spirit  and  one  that  carries 
with  it  no  less  of  the  sting  than  of  the  honey.  This 
kind  of  fortified  carriage,  with  a  spirit  ready  and  pre- 
pared to  defend  itself  against  insults,  is  sometimes 
accidentally  forced  upon  men  by  something  inherent 
in  their  person  or  fortune  ;  as  in  the  case  of  persons 
deformed,  illegitimate,  or  disgraced.  Whence  men  of 
this  nature,  if  ability  be  not  wanting,  commonly  turn 
out  fortunate. 

With  regard  to  the  disclosing  of  a  man's  self,  it  is  a 
very  different  thing  from  the  self-display  of  wrhich  I 
have  been  speaking.  For  it  relates  not  to  a  man's 
virtues  or  faults,  but  to  his  particular  actions  in  life ; 
wherein  there  is  nothing  more  politic  for  a  man,  than 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  285 

to  preserve  a  sound  and  wise  mediocrity  in  declaring 
or  concealing  his  meaning  in  particular  actions.  For 
although  depth  of  secrecy  and  concealment  of  designs, 
and  that  manner  of  action,  which  effects  everything 
by  dark  arts  and  methods  (or  menses  sourdes  as  the 
French  call  them)  be  both  useful  and  admirable  ;  yet 
frequently,  as  is  said,  dissimulation  breeds  errors  which 
ensnare  the  dissembler  himself.  Whence  we  see  that 
the  greatest  and  most  noted  politicians  have  not  hesi- 
tated to  declare  freely  and  undisguisedly  the  objects 
which  they  had  in  view.  So  Lucius  Sylla  made  open 
profession  "  that  he  wished  all  men  happy  or  unhappy, 
as  they  stood  his  friends  or  enemies."  So  Caesar, 
when  he  first  went  into  Gaul,  did  not  scruple  to  pro- 
fess, "  that  he  had  rather  be  first  in  a  village  than  sec- 
ond in  Rome."1  And  again,  as  soon  as  he  had  begun 
the  war,  he  by  no  means  played  the  part  of  a  dissem- 
bler, if  we  may  judge  by  what  Cicero  says  of  him, 
"  The  other  (meaning  Csesar)  does  not  refuse,  but 
rather  demands  to  be  called  a  tyrant,  as  he  really  is."2 
So  we  see  in  a  letter  of  Cicero  to  Atticus,  how  little 
of  a  dissembler  Augustus  Cassar  was ;  for  on  his  very 
entrance  into  public  life,  when  he  was  still  the  darling 
of  the  senate,  yet  in  his  harangues  to  the  people  he 
would  use  this  form  of  oath  ;  "  As  I  hope  to  attain  to 
the  honours  of  my  parent ;" 3  which  was  nothing  less 
than  the  tyranny.  It  is  true  indeed  that  to  lessen  the 
envy  of  it,  he  would  at  the  same  time  stretch  forth  his 
hand  towards  a  statue  of  Julius  Ca3sar  which  was  erect- 
ed in  the  place  ;  whereat  men  laughed,  and  applauded, 
and  wondered,  and  said  to  one  another,  "What  is  this? 

1  Plutarch's  Apopthegms.  2  Cic.  Ep.  ad  Attic,  x.  4. 

s  Cic.  ad  Attic,  xvi.  15. 


286         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

What  sort  of  young  man  is  this?"  and  yet  thought  a 
man  could  mean  no  mischief  who  spoke  his  feelings  so 
openly  and  ingenuously.  Now  all  these,  whom  I  have 
mentioned,  were  prosperous  ;  whereas  Pompey,  who 
tended  to  the  same  ends,  but  in  a  more  dark  and  dis 
sembling  manner  (as  Tacitus  says  of  him,  "  A  more 
reserved,  but  not  a  better  character;"1  wherein  Sallust 
concurs,  "Of  honest  tongue  and  shameless  mind"2), 
made  it  his  design,  and  attempted  by  innumerable  in- 
trigues to  keep  his  own  ambition  and  desires  quite 
secret,  and  in  the  mean  time  to  drive  the  state  into 
such  anarchy  and  confusion  that  it  should  be  forced 
of  necessity  to  cast  itself  into  his  arms,  and  the  sov- 
ereign power  might  thus  be  thrust  upon  him,  appar- 
ently against  his  will  and  inclination.  But  when  he 
had  brought  it,  as  he  thought,  to  this  point,  when  he 
was  chosen  sole  consul  (as  no  one  had  ever  been  be- 
fore), yet  was  he  no  way  nearer  to  his  ends ;  because 
they  who  certainly  would  have  assisted  him  did  not 
understand  what  he  wanted  ;  so  that  in  the  end  he 
was  fain  to  go  on  the  common  and  beaten  track  of 
procuring  arms  and  raising  an  army  under  colour  of 
opposing  Cffisar ;  so  tedious,  uncertain,  and  mostly  un- 
fortunate are  those  designs  which  are  concealed  be- 
neath a  deep  dissimulation.  And  this  appears  to  have 
been  the  feeling  of  Tacitus,  when  he  constitutes  the  ar- 
tifices of  dissimulation  as  a  wisdom  of  an  inferior  form 
to  the  arts  of  true  policy,  attributing  the  former  to 
Tiberius,  but  the  latter  to  Augustus ;  for  speaking  of 
Livia,  he  says,  "  That  she  was  equally  suited  to  the 
arts  of  her  husband,  and  the  dissimulation  of  her  son."3 

i  Tac.  Hist.  ii.  38.  2  Cf.  Sueton.  de  Claris  Grammaticis,  c.  15. 

8  Tac.  Ann.  v.  1. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  287 

"With  regard  to  turning  and  shaping  the  mind,  we 
must  strive  with  all  possible  endeavour  to  render  the 
mind  obedient  to  occasions  and  opportunities,  and  to 
be  noways  obstinate  and  refractory  towards  them.  For 
nothing  hinders  men's  actions  or  fortunes  so  much  as 
this,  "  to  remain  the  same,  when  the  same  is  unbecom- 
ing ; " l  that  is,  for  men  to  be  as  they  were,  and  follow 
their  own  nature,  when  occasions  change :  whence 
Livy,  in  introducing  Cato  the  Elder,  as  a  most  skilful 
architect  of  his  fortune,  adds  well  of  him,  "  That  he 
had  a  wit  that  could  turn."2  This  also  is  the  reason 
why  grave  and  solemn  wits,  which  know  not  how  to 
change,  have  generally  more  dignity  than  good  for- 
tune. But  this  viscous  and  knotty  temper  which  is  so 
averse  to  change  is  nature  in  some ;  in  others  it  is  the 
result  of  habit  (which  is  a  second  nature),  and  an  opin- 
ion (which  easily  steals  into  men's  minds),  namely, 
that  men  can  hardly  make  themselves  believe  that 
they  ought  to  change  that  course  which  they  have 
found  by  expei'ience  to  be  prosperous  and  successful. 
For  Machiavelli  notes  wisely,  how  Fabius  Maximus 
would  have  retained  to  the  last  his  old  habit  of  tem- 
porising and  protracting  the  war,  when  the  nature  of 
the  war  was  altered  and  required  more  vigorous  meas- 
ures.3 In  others  again  the  fault  arises  from  weakness 

O 

of  judgment,  that  they  do  not  discern  in  time  when 
things  or  actions  have  reached  a  period,  but  come  in 
loo  late,  when  the  occasion  has  passed  by;  as  Demos- 
thenes says,  when  in  reproving  the  Athenians  he  coin- 
Dares  them  to  country  fellows,  who,  in  playing  in  the 
fencing  school,  when  they  have  received  a  blow,  always 

1  Cf.  Cic.  de  Clar.  Orat.  c.  95. :  Idem  manebat  neque  idem  decebat. 

2  Livy,  xxxix.  40.  8  Macch.  Discorsi,  iii.  9. 


288         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

remove  their  shield  to  that  ward,  and  not  before.1  In 
others  again  it  is  a  dislike  to  lose  their  labours  in  the 
path  which  they  have  once  entered,  and  an  unwilling- 
ness to  sound  the  retreat,  with  a  confidence  that  by 
perseverance  they  will  overcome  the  occasion.  But 
from  whatsoever  root  this  stubbornness  and  restiveness 
of  mind  proceeds,  it  is  a  thing  most  prejudicial  to  man's 
actions  and  fortunes ;  and  nothing  is  more  politic  than 
to  make  the  wheels  of  the  mind  concentric  and  volu- 
ble with  the  wheels  of  fortune.  And  so  much  for  the 
two  summary  precepts  of  this  Architecture  of  Fortune ; 
whereof  the  scattered  precepts  are  numerous,  but  I 
will  select  a  few  for  example's  sake. 

The  first  precept  is  that  the  carpenter  of  fortune 
should  make  a  good  use  and  a  right  application  of  his 
rule;  that  is,  that  he  should  accustom  his  mind  to  judge 
of  the  proportion  and  value  of  all  things,  as  they  con- 
duce more  or  less  to  his  fortune  and  ends,  and  that 
he  do  this  substantially,  not  superficially.  It  is  a  thing 
strange,  but  true,  that  the  logical  part  (if  I  may  so 
term  it)  of  many  men's  minds  is  good,  but  the  mathe- 
matical part  erroneous ;  that  is,  they  can  judge  well 
enough  of  the  consequences,  but  most  unskilfully  of 
the  values  of  things ;  whence  it  happens  that  some  take 
delight  in  private  and  secret  converse  with  princes, 
others  in  popular  fame  and  applause,  supposing  them 
to  be  things  of  great  value ;  whereas  in  many  cases 
they  are  full  both  of  envy  and  peril.  Others  again 
measure  things  according  to  the  labour  and  difficulty 
bestowed  upon  them,  and  think  that  if  they  be  only 
moving  they  must  needs  advance  and  proceed ;  as 
Caesar  said  ironically  of  Cato  of  Utica,  when  he  de- 

i  Demosth.  1  Philipp.  46. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  289 

scribes  how  laborious  and  assiduous  and  indefatigable 
lie  was  to  no  great  purpose,  "  All  these  things  he  did 
with  much  earnestness."1  Hence  too  it  comes  that 
men  often  deceive  themselves,  in  thinking  that  if  they 
procure  the  assistance  of  any  man  of  worth  and  repu- 
tation, they  are  certain  to  succeed ;  whereas  it  is  not 
the  greatest  but  the  fittest  instruments  that  finish  the 
work  both  quickest  and  best.  Now  for  the  true  infor- 
mation of  the  mathematical  part  of  the  mind,  it  is 
worth  while  to  know  and  have  a  description  of  what 
should  be  set  down  first  for  the  raising  and  advancing 
of  a  man's  own  fortune,  what  second,  and  so  on.  First 
I  set  down  the  amendment  of  the  mind ;  for  the  rer 
moving  of  impediments  and  working  out  the  knots  of 
the  mind  will  sooner  open  the  passage  to  fortune,  than 
the  obtaining  of  fortune  will  remove  the  impediments 
of  the  mind.  In  the  second  place  I  set  down  wealth 
and  means,  which  many  perhaps  would  have  placed 
first,  because  of  their  great  use  in  everything ;  but  that 
opinion  I  may  condemn,  for  the  reason  which  Machia- 
velli  gave  in  a  case  not  much  unlike.  For  whereas 
there  was  an  old  proverb,  "  that  money  is  the  sinews 
of  war,"2  yet  he  maintained  on  the  contrary  that  the 
true  sinews  of  war  are  nothing  else  than  the  sinews  of 
a  valiant  and  military  people.  And  so  in  like  manner 
it  may  be  truly  affirmed,  that  it  is  not  money  that  is 
the  sinews  of  fortune,  but  it  is  rather  the  sinews  of  the 
mind,  wit,  courage,  audacity,  resolution,  temper,  indus- 
try, and  the  like.  In  the  third  place,  I  set  down  char- 
acter and  reputation,  the  rather  because  they  have  cer- 
tain tides  and  seasons,  which  if  they  be  not  taken  in 
due  time  are  difficult  to  be  recovered,  it  being  ex- 

*  Caes.  Bell.  Civil,  i.  30.       2  Mach.  Discorsi,  ii.  10.;  et  cf.  Cicero,  Philip,  v, 


290          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

tremely  hard  to  restore  a  falling  reputation.  And 
lastly,  I  place  honour,  which  is  more  easily  won  by 
any  of  the  other  three,  much  more  by  all  combined, 
than  if  you  begin  with  honour,  and  then  proceed  to 
the  rest.  But  as  it  is  of  no  little  consequence  to  pre- 
serve order  in  matter,  so  it  is  of  no  less  consequence 
to  preserve  order  in  time,  the  confusion  whereof  is  one 
of  the  commonest  errors ;  while  men  fly  to  their  ends, 
when  they  should  only  be  attending  to  their  begin- 
nings ;  and  carelessly  passing  over  the  things  which 
He  before  them  they  rush  at  once  to  the  highest  and 
greatest  of  all ;  whereas  it  is  a  good  precept,  "  Attend 
to  present  business."1 

A  second  precept  is  to  beware  of  being  carried  by 
an  excess  of  magnanimity  and  confidence  to  things 
beyond  our  strength,  and  not  to  row  against  the  stream. 
It  is  excellent  counsel  regarding  men's  fortunes,  "  Be 
ruled  by  the  Fates  and  the  Gods ; " 2  for  we  ought  to 
look  round  and  observe  where  things  lie  open  to  us, 
and  where  they  are  closed  and  obstructed,  where  they 
are  difficult  and  where  easy,  that  we  may  not  waste  our 
strength  on  things  to  which  convenient  access  is  for- 
bidden. For  in  this  way  we  shall  avoid  repulse,  not 
occupy  ourselves  too  much  about  one  matter,  earn  a 
character  for  moderation,  offend  fewer  persons,  and  get 
the  credit  of  continual  success ;  whilst  things  which 
would  perhaps  have  happened  of  themselves  will  be 
attributed  to  our  industry. 

The  third  precept  seems  to  be  somewhat  repugnant 
to  the  former  two,  though  not  so  if  rightly  understood. 
The  nature  of  it  is  this,  that  we  should  not  always 

1  Virg.  Eclog.  ix.  66.:  Quod  nunc  instat  agamUs. 
*  Lucan,  viii.  486. :  Fatis  accede  Deisque. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  291 

wait  for  occasions,  but  sometimes  challenge  and  induce 
them ;  and  it  is  that  to  which  Demosthenes  alludes  in 
high  terms,  "  In  the  same  manner  as  it  is  a  received 
principle  that  the  general  should  lead  the  army,  so 
should  wise  men  lead  affairs,  causing  things  to  be 
done  which  they  think  good,  and  not  themselves  wait- 
ing upon  events."1  For  if  we  diligently  observe,  we 
sliall  find  two  different  kinds  of  sufficiency  in  perform- 
ing actions  and  managing  business.  Some  can  make 
an  apt  use  of  occasions,  but  plot  or  invent  nothing  of 
themselves ;  others  are  wholly  bent  on  their  OAvn  plots, 
but  cannot  take  advantage  of  accidental  opportunities  ; 
either  of  which  abilities  without  the  other  is  very  lame 
and  imperfect. 

A  fourth  precept  is  to  undertake  nothing  which  of 
necessity  takes  up  a  great  quantity  of  time,  but  to 
have  this  sound  ever  ringing  in  our  ears,  "  time  is  fly- 
ing, time  which  cannot  be  retrieved."2  And  this  is 
the  reason  why  those  who  have  devoted  themselves  to 
laborious  professions  and  the  like,  as  lawyers,  orators, 
learned  divines,  and  writers  of  books,  are  not  so  clever 
in  founding  and  promoting  their  own  fortunes ;  because 
their  time  is  so  much  occupied  with  other  things  that 
they  cannot  investigate  particulars,  wait  occasions,  an.£ 
devise  and  meditate  on  plots  to  advance  their  fortunes. 
Moreover,  in  the  courts  of  princes  and  in  common- 
wealths you  will  find  that  the  ablest  persons  both  to 
improve  their  own  fortunes  and  to  assail  the  fortunes 
of  others  are  those  who  have  no  public  duty  to  per- 
form, but  are  ever  occupied  in  this  study  of  advance- 
ment in  life. 

1  Demosth.  Philip,  i.  45. 

2  Virg.  Georg.  Hi.  284.: 

Scd  fiigit  iuterea,  fugit  irreparabilc  tempos. 


292          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

A  fifth  precept  is  to  a  certain  degree  to  imitate  na- 
ture, which  does  nothing  in  vain ;  no  very  difficult  task, 
if  a  man  will  skilfully  mix  and  interlace  his  several 
kinds  of  business.  For  in  every  particular  action  a 
man  ought  so  to  direct  and  prepare  his  mind,  and 
should  have  one  intention  so  underlying  and  subordi- 
nate to  another,  that  if  he  cannot  obtain  his  wishes  in 
the  best  degree,  he  may  yet  be  satisfied  if  he  succeed 
in  a  second,  or  even  a  third ;  and  if  he  cannot  obtain 
them  at  all  in  that  particular,  then  he  may  turn  the 
labour  spent  in  it  to  some  other  end  besides  the  one 
intended  ;  and  if  he  cannot  reap  any  fruit  of  it  for  the 
present,  he  may  yet  make  it  as  a  seed  of  somewhat  in 
time  to  come  ;  and  if  he  can  derive  no  substance  from 
it  either  now  or  hereafter,  he  may  try  at  all  events  to 
win  some  good  opinion  by  it,  or  the  like ;  by  always 
exacting  an  account  of  himself,  by  which  it  may  appear 
that  each  action  and  scheme  has  borne  him  some  fruit 
more  or  less,  and  never  allowing  himself  to  stand 
amazed  and  confused,  or  to  despond  immediately  that 
he  fails  to  hit  his  chief  mark.  For  nothing  is  more 
impolitic  than  to  be  entirely  bent  on  one  action.  He 
that  is  so  loses  an  infinite  number  of  occasions,  which 
indirectly  fall  out  by  the  way,  and  are  perhaps  more 
proper  and  propitious  for  future  use  than  for  the  pres- 
ent matter ;  wherefore  men  must  be  perfect  in  that 
rule,  "  These  things  ought  ye  to  do,  and  not  to  leave 
the  others  undone."  l 

A  sixth  precept  is  not  to  engage  oneself  too  per- 
emptorily in  anything,  though  at  first  sight  it  seem  not 
liable  to  accident ;  but  ever  to  have  either  a  window 
open  to  fly  out  at,  or  a  secret  way  to  retire  by. 

i  St  Matth.  xxiii.  23.;  St.  Luke,  xi.  42. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  293 

A  seventh  precept  is  that  ancient  precept  of  Bias, 
not  construed  to  any  point  of  perfidiousness,  but  only 
to  caution  and  moderation,  "Love  as  if  you  were  some 
time  to  hate,  and  hate  as  if  you  were  sometime  to 
love ; "  for  it  utterly  betrays  and  destroys  all  utility, 
for  men  to  embark  themselves  too  far  in  unfortunate 
friendships,  troublesome  and  turbulent  quarrels,  or  fool- 
ish and  childish  jealousies  and  emulations. 

These  will  suffice  for  an  example  of  the  doctrine  of 
advancement  in  life.  I  would  however  have  it  fre- 
quently remembered,  that  I  am  far  from  meaning  that 
these  sketches  of  things  which  I  note  as  deficients 
should  be  set  down  as  complete  treatises,  but  only  as 
shreds  or  fragments  to  serve  as  samples  of  the  whole 
piece.  Nor  again  am  I  so  foolish  as  to  assert  that  for- 
tunes are  not  gained  without  all  this  contrivance  which 
I  have  mentioned.  For  I  well  know  they  come  tum- 
bling into  some  men's  laps  ;  and  that  others  only  obtain 
them  by  simple  diligence  and  attention,  (using  only  a 
little  caution,)  without  any  great  or  laborious  art.  But 
as  Cicero,  in  his  portrait  of  a  perfect  orator,  does  not 
mean  that  every  pleader  should  be  or  can  be  such  ; 
and  again,  as  in  the  description  of  a  prince  or  courtier 
by  such  as  have  handled  those  subjects,  the  model  is 
always  framed  according  to  the  perfection  of  the  art, 
and  not  according  to  common  practice ;  so  likewise 
.\iave  I  done  in  the  description  of  a  politic  man,  I  mean 
politic  for  his  own  fortune. 

But  it  must  be  remembered  all  this  while,  that  the 
precepts  which  I  have  selected  and  set  down  on  this 
subject  are  of  that  kind  which  may  be  called  Good  Arts. 
As  for  Evil  Arts,  if  a  man  would  propose  to  himself 
that  principle  of  Machiavelli,  "  that  virtue  itself  a  man 


294         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

should  not  trouble  himself  to  attain,  but  only  the  ap- 
pearance thereof  to  the  world,  because  the  credit  and 
reputation  of  virtue  is  a  help,  but  the  use  of  it  is  an 
impediment ; "  or  again,  that  other  principle  of  his, 
"  that  a  politic  man  should  have  for  the  basis  of  his 
policy  the  assumption  that  men  cannot  fitly  or  safely 
be  wrought  upon  otherwise  than  by  fear ;  and  should 
therefore  endeavour  to  have  every  man,  as  far  as  he 
can  contrive  it,  dependent  and  surrounded  by  straits 
and  perils ; " 1  so  that  his  politician  would  appear  to 
be  what  the  Italians  call  "A  spwer  of  thorns:"  or 
that  principle  embodied  in  the  verse  quoted  by  Cicero, 
"  Let  friends  fall,  provided  our  enemies  perish  with 
them  ;  "  2  as  the  Triumvirs  did,  who  with  the  lives  of 
their  friends  purchased  the  destruction  of  their  ene- 
mies :  or  if  he  would  be  an  imitator  of  L.  Catiline,  to 
set  on  fire  and  trouble  states,  that  he  may  the  better 
fish  in  muddy  waters  and  make  way  for  his  own  for- 
tune ;  "  For,"  said  he,  "  if  a  fire  be  lighted  in  my 
fortunes,  I  will  quench  it,  not  with  water,  but  with 
destruction  :  "  3  or  if  he  would  make  his  own  that  say- 
ing of  Lysander,  "  that  children  are  to  be  deceived 
with  comfits,  and  men  with  oaths ;  " 4  with  the  like 
depraved  and  pernicious  doctrines,  whereof  (as  in  all 
other  things)  there  are  a  greater  number  than  of  the 
wise  and  good :  if  any  one,  I  say,  takes  pleasure  in 
such  kind  of  corrupt  wisdom,  I  will  not  certainly  deny 
that  (with  these  dispensations  from  all  the  laws  of 
charity  and  virtue,  and  an  entire  devotion  to  the  press- 
ing of  his  fortune,)  he  may  advance  it  quicker  and 

1  Cf.  Macch.  Principe,  c.  17, 18.  2  Cic.  pro  Deiotaro,  c.  9. 

8  Cic.  pro  Mursen.  c.  25.;  Sallust,  Cat.  c.  31. 
*  Plut.  in  Lysand.  c.  8. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  295 

more  compendiously.  But  it  is  in  life  as  it  is  in  ways, 
the  shortest  way  is  commonly  the  foulest  and  muddiest, 
and  surely  the  fairer  way  is  not  much  about. 

But  men  ought  to  be  so  far  removed  from  devoting 
themselves  to  wicked  arts  of  this  nature,  that  rather 
(if  they  are  only  in  their  own  power,  and  can  bear 
and  sustain  themselves  without  being  carried  away  by 
a  whirlwind  or  tempest  of  ambition)  they  ought  to  set 
before  their  eyes  not  only  that  general  map  of  the 
world,  "  that  all  things  are  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit,"  a  but  also  that  more  particular  chart,  namely, 
"  that  being  without  well-being  is  a  curse,  and  the 
greater  being  the  greater  curse  ;  "  and  "  that  all  virtue 
is  most  rewarded,  and  all  wickedness  most  punished  in 
itself;  "  as  the  poet  excellently  says  :  — 

Quae  vobis,  quae  digna,  viri,  pro  laudibus  istis 
Praemia  posse  rear  solvi  ?  pulcherrima  primum 
Dii  moresque  dabunt  vestri.2 

And  so  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  no  less  truly  said  of  the 
wicked,  "  His  own  manners  will  be  his  punishment."3 
Secondly,  men  in  projecting  their  schemes  and  diffus- 
ing their  thoughts  abroad  on  every  side,  in  order  to 
forecast  and  advance  their  fortunes,  ought  in  the  rnidst 
of  these  flights  of  the  mind  to  look  up  to  the  Eternal 
Providence  and  Divine  Judgment,  which  often  over- 
throws and  brings  to  nought  the  machinations  and  evil 
designs  of  the  wicked  however  deeply  laid  ;  accord- 
ing to  that  Scripture,  "  He  hath  conceived  mischief, 

1  Eccles.  ii.  11. 

2  Virg.  JEn.  ix.  252.: 

Ye  brave  young  men,  what  equal  gifts  can  we, 
In  recompense  of  such  desert,  decree? 
The  greatest,  sure,  and  best  you  can  receive, 
The  gods  and  your  own  conscious  worth  will  give 
«  Cic.  Ep.  ad  Att.  ix.  12. 


296          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

and  shall  bring  forth  a  vain  thing."1  Moreover,  al- 
though men  should  refrain  themselves  from  injury  and 
evil  arts,  yet  this  incessant,  restless,  and  as  it  were 
Sabbathless  pursuit  of  fortune  leaves  not  the  tribute 
which  we  owe  to  God  of  our  time ;  who  we  see  de- 
mands and  separates  for  himself  a  tenth  part  of  our 
substance,  but  a  seventh  of  our  time.  For  what  ad- 
vantage is  it  to  have  a  face  erected  towards  heaven, 
with  a  spirit  perpetually  grovelling  upon  earth,  eat- 
ing dust  like  the  serpent?  As  the  heathen  also  ob- 
served, "  the  particle  of  the  Divine  Spirit  cleaves  to 
the  ground."2  But  if  here  any  man  flatter  himself, 
that  he  will  employ  his  fortune  well,  though  he  should 
obtain  it  ill ;  as  was  said  concerning  Augustus  Caesar, 
and  Septimius  Severus,  "  that  either  they  should  never 
have  been  born,  or  else  they  should  never  have  died,"3 
they  did  so  much  mischief  in  their  rise  to  greatness, 
and  so  much  good  when  they  were  established ;  yet, 
let  him  bear  in  mind  that  such  compensations  of  evil 
with  good  are  to  be  approved  after  the  evil  is  done, 
but  that  such  counsels  are  to  be  condemned.  Lastly, 
it  will  not  be  amiss  for  men,  in  this  eager  and  excited 
chase  of  fortune,  to  cool  themselves  a  little  with  that 
conceit  which  is  elegantly  expressed  by  the  Emperor 
Charles  the  Fifth  in  his  instructions  to  his  son,  "  That 
foi  tune  has  somewhat  of  the  nature  of  a  woman,  who, 
if  she  is  too  much  wooed,  is  commonly  the  further  off." 
But  this  last  is  only  a  remedy  for  those  whose  tastes 
are  corrupted  by  a  disorder  of  the  mind.  Let  men 
rather  build  upon  that  foundation,  which  is  as  a  corner 

l  Psalm  vii.  14.,  or  Job,  xr.  35. 

4  Hor.  Sat  ii.  2.  79. :  Atque  affigit  humo  divinae  particulam  aurse. 

•  Aurelius  Victor,  Epit  c.  1.     Lampridius  de  Severe. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  297 

stone  both  of  Divinity  and  Philosophy,  wherein  they 
nearly  agree  as  to  that  which  ought  to  be  sought  first. 
For  Divinity  says,  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God, 
and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you;"1  and 
philosophy  says  something  like  it,  "  Seek  ye  first  the 
good  things  of  the  mind,  and  the  rest  will  either  be 
supplied,  or  their  loss  will  not  be  felt."  And  although 
the  human  foundation  is  sometimes  built  upon  the  sand, 
as  we  see  in  Marcus  Brutus,  when  he  brake  forth  into 
that  speech  at  his  death,  — 

Te  colui,  Virtus,  ut  rem;  ast  tu  nomen  inane  es:  a 

yet  the  same  foundation,  laid  by  the  hand  of  heaven, 
is  ever  laid  upon  the  rock.  Here  then  I  conclude  the 
doctrine  concerning  advancement  in  life,  and  with  it 
the  general  doctrine  conceniing  negotiation. 


CHAP.  III. 

The  Divisions  of  the  Doctrine  concerning  Empire  or  Gov- 
ernment are  omitted; — An  Introduction  only  is  made 
to  two  Deficients  ;  namely,  the  Doctrine  concerning 
the  Extension  of  the  Bounds  of  Empire,  and  the  Doc- 
trine concerning  Universal  Justice,  or  the  Fountains 
of  Law. 

I  NOW  come  to  the  Art  of  Empire  or  Civil  Govern- 
ment, which  includes  (Economics,  as  a  state  includes  a 
family.  On  this  subject,  as  I  before  said,  I  have  im- 

1  St.  Matth.  vi.  33. 

2  Cf.  Dio  Cassius,  xlvii.: 

Virtue  I  worshipped,  and  as  real,  sought, 
But  found  her  empty,  and  a  thing  of  nought. 


298          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

posed  silence  on  myself,  though  perhaps  I  might  not  be 
entirely  unqualified  to  handle  such  topics  with  some 
skill  and  profit,  as  being  one  who  has  had  the  benefit 
of  long  experience,  and  who  by  your  Majesty's  most 
gracious  favour,  without  any  merit  of  his  own,  has 
risen  through  so  many  gradations  of  office  and  honour 
to  the  highest  dignity  in  the  realm  and  borne  the  same 
for  four  whole  years ;  and,  what  is  more,  being  one 
who  has  been  accustomed  for  eighteen  successive  years 
to  the  commands  and  conversation  of  your  Majesty 
(whereby  a  very  stock  might  be  turned  into  a  states- 
man), and  who  also,  besides  other  arts,  has  spent  much 
time  in  the  study  of  laws  and  histories.  All  which  I 
report  to  posterity,  not  through  any  vain  boasting,  but 
because  I  think  that  it  is  of  no  little  importance  to  the 
dignity  of  literature,  that  a  man  naturally  fitted  rather 
for  literature  than  for  anything  else,  and  borne  by  some 
destiny  against  the  inclination  of  his  genius  into  the 
business  of  active  life,  should  have  risen  to  such  high 
and  honourable  civil  appointments  under  so  wise  a 
king.  But -if  my  leisure  time  shall  hereafter  produce 
anything  concerning  political  knowledge,  the  work  will 
perchance  be  either  abortive  or  posthumous.  In  the 
mean  time,  now  that  all  the  sciences  are  ranged  as  it 
were  in  their  proper  seats,  lest  so  eminent  a  seat  should 
be  left  entirely  vacant,  I  have  determined  to  mark  as 
deficient  only  two  parts  of  Civil  Knowledge,  which  do 
not  belong  to  the  secrets  of  Empire,  but  have  a  wider 
and  more  common  nature  ;  and  according  to  my  cus- 
tom I  will  set  down  examples  thereof. 

The  Arts  of  Government  contain  three  political  du- 
ties ;  first,  "  the  preservation,"  secondly,  "  the  happi- 
ness and  prosperity,"  and  thirdly,  "  the  extension," 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  299 

of  empire.  Of  these  the  two  former  have  in  a  great 
measure  been  excellently  handled,  but  nothing  has 
been  said  on  the  last.  I  will  therefore  set  it  down 
among  the  deficients,  and  according  to  custom,  propose 
an  example  thereof,  calling  it  "  the  Statesman  in  Ar- 
mour" or  the  "  Doctrine  concerning  the  Extension  of 
the  Bounds  of  Empire." 

Example  of  a  Summary  Treatise  touching  the  Extension 
of  Empire.1 

THE  speech  of  Themistocles  if  applied  to  himself 
was  certainly  haughty  and  arrogant,  but  if  generally 
applied  to  others  it  seems  to  contain  both  a  wise  obser- 
vation and  a  severe  censure.  Desired  at  a  feast  to 
touch  a  lute,  he  said,  "  he  could  not  fiddle,  but  yet  he 
could  make  a  small  town  a  great  city."2  Now  these 
words,  transferred  to  a  political  meaning,  excellently 
describe  and  distinguish  two  very  different  abilities  in 
those  that  deal  in  business  of  state.  For  if  a  true  sur- 
vey be  taken  of  the  councillors,  senators,  and  other 
public  statesmen  who  have  ever  been,  there  will  be 
found  some,  though  very  few,  who  can  make  a  small 
city  or  kingdom  great,  and  yet  cannot  fiddle ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  there  will  be  found  many  very  cun- 
ning on  the  lute  or  lyre  (that  is,  in  the  follies  of 
courts),  who  yet  are  so  far  from  having  the  power  to 
make  a  small  state  great,  that  they  appear  rather  to  be 
naturally  gifted  to  bring  a  great  and  flourishing  state 
to  ruin  and  decay.  And  certainly  those  degenerate 
arts  and  shifts,  whereby  many  councillors  and  minis- 

1  This  Latin  treatise  on  the  Extension  of  Empire  is  nearly  an  exact 
translation  of  the  Essay  on  the  True  Greatness  of  Kingdoms.     I  have 
therefore  retained  the  original  English  with  very  few  alterations. 

2  Pint,  in  Them.  2. 


300         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ters  often  gain  both  favour  with  their  masters  and  esti- 
mation with  the  people,  deserve  no  other  name  than  a 
certain  knack  of  fiddling ;  being  things  rather  pleasing 
for  the  time,  and  graceful  to  themselves  only,  than  ad- 
vantageous to  the  weal  and  advancement  of  the  state, 
whereof  they  are  ministers.  There  will  no  doubt  be 
found  other  councillors  and  ministers,  of  no  mean  char- 
acter, equal  to  their  business,  and  able  to  govern  the 
state  well,  so  as  to  preserve  it  from  manifest  precipices 
and  inconveniences,  who  nevertheless  are  far  removed 
from  the  ability  to  raise  and  amplify  an  empire  in  pow- 
er, means,  and  fortune. 

But  be  the  workmen  what  they  may  be,  let  us  con- 
sider the  work  itself;  that  is,  what  is  the  true  great- 
ness of  kingdoms  and  states  and  how  it  can  be  ob- 
tained. It  is  a  subject  indeed  fit  for  princes  to  have 
ever  in  then*  hands  and  carefully  to  consider;  to  the 
end  that  neither  by  over-measuring  their  forces  they 
may  engage  in  vain  enterprises  beyond  their  power; 
nor  on  the  other  hand  by  undervaluing  them  they  may 
demean  themselves  to  timid  and  pusillanimous  coun- 
sels. 

The  greatness  of  an  empire  as  regards  its  size  and 
territory  falls  under  measure ;  as  regards  its  revenue 
under  computation.  The  number  of  the  population 
may  be  taken  by  a  census ;  the  number  and  greatness 
of  cities  and  towns  by  maps  and  surveys.  But  yet 
there  is  nothing  among  civil  affairs  more  subject  to 
error  than  the  forming  a  true  and  right  valuation  of 
the  power  and  forces  of  an  empire.  The  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  likened  not  to  an  acorn  or  any  larger  nut, 
but  to  a  grain  of  mustard  seed ; 1  which  is  the  smallest 

i  St.  Matth.  xiii.  31. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  301 

of  all  seeds,  but  yet  has  within  itself  a  certain  property 
and  spirit  hastily  to  get  up  and  spread.  So  there  are 
some  kingdoms  and  states  very  great  in  extent  of  terri- 
tory, and  yet  not  apt  to  enlarge  or  command;  and  some 
that  have  but  a  small  dimension  of  stem,  and  yet  are 
apt  to  be  the  foundations  of  great  monarchies. 

Walled  towns,  stored  arsenals  and  armouries,  goodly 
races  of  horse,  chariots  of  war,  elephants,  ordnance, 
artillery,  and  the  like ;  all  this  is  but  a  sheep  in  a  lion's 
skin,  except  the  breed  and  disposition  of  the  people  be 
stout  and  warlike.  Nay,  number  itself  in  armies  is 
not  much  advantage,  where  the  people  are  of  weak 
courage  ;  for,  as  Virgil  says,  it  never  troubles  the  wolf 
how  many  the  sheep  be.1  The  army  of  the  Persians 
in  the  plains  of  Arbela  was  such  a  vast  sea  of  people, 
that  it  somewhat  alarmed  the  commanders  in  Alexan- 
der's army ;  who  came  to  him  therefore  and  wished 
him  to  set  upon  them  by  night ;  but  he  answered,  He 
would  not  pilfer  the  victory  :  and  the  defeat  was  easy.2 
When  Tigranes  the  Armenian,  being  encamped  upon 
a  hill  with  four  hundred  thousand  men,  discovered  the 
army  of  the  Romans  being  not  above  fourteen  thousand 
marching  towards  him,  he  made  himself  merry  with 
it,  and  said,  "  Yonder  men  are  too  many  for  an  em- 
bassage,  and  too  few  for  a  fight."3  But  before  the 
sun  set,  he  found  them  enough  to  give  him  the  chase 
with  infinite  slaughter.  Many  are  the  examples  of  the 
great  odds  between  number  and  courage  ;  so  that  it 
may  be  set  down  as  a  sure  and  tried  rule,  that  the 
principal  point  of  greatness  in  any  state  is  that  the 
people  itself  be  by  race  and  disposition  warlike.  Nei- 

l  Virg.  Eel.  vii.  52  2  Plut.  in  Alex.  c.  31. 

«  Plutarch  in  Lucull.  27.  and  Appian,  Bell.  Mithrid.  c.  85. 


302          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

ther  is  money  the  sinews  of  war,  as  it  is  trivially  said, 
where  the  sinews  of  men's  arms  in  base  and  effeminate 
people  are  failing.  For  Solon  said  well  to  Crossus, 
when  in  ostentation  he  showed  him  his  gold,  "  Sir,  if 
any  other  come  that  has  better  iron  than  you,  he  will 
be  master  of  all  this  gold." 1  Therefore  let  any  prince 
or  state  think  soberly  of  his  forces,  except  his  militia 
of  natives  be  of  good  and  valiant  soldiers.  And  let 
princes,  on  the  other  side,  who  have  subjects  of  mar- 
tial disposition,  know  their  own  strength,  unless  they 
be  otherwise  wanting  unto  themselves.  As  for  merce- 
nary forces,  (which  is  the  usual  help  in  this  case,)  all 
examples  show,  that  whatsoever  state  or  prince  rests 
upon  them,  he  may  spread  his  'feathers  for  a  time,  but 
he  will  mew  them  soon  after. 

The  blessing  of  Judah  and  Issachar  will  never  meet ; 
that  the  same  people  or  nation  should  be  both  the  lion's 
whelp,  and  the  ass  between  burdens.2  Neither  will  it 
be  that  a  people  over-laid  with  taxes  should  ever  be- 
come valiant  and  martial.  It  is  true  that  taxes  levied 
by  consent  of  the  state  do  abate  men's  courage  less  ; 
as  it  has  been  seen  notably  in  the  excises  of  the  Low 
Countries  ;  and,  in  some  degree,  in  the  subsidies  of 
England.  For  you  must  note,  that  we  speak  now  of 
the  heart  and  not  of  the  purse.  So  that  although  the 
same  tribute  and  tax,  laid  by  consent  or  by  imposing, 
be  all  one  to  the  purse,  yet  it  works  differently  upon 
the  courage.  So  that  you  may  conclude  that  no  people 
over-charged  with  tribute  is  fit  for  empire. 

Let  states  that  aim  at  greatness  take  heed  that  their 
nobility  and  gentlemen  do  not  multiply  too  fast;  for 
that  makes  the  common  subject  grow  to  be  a  peasant 

1  Cf.  Lucian's  Charon.  2  Gen.  xlix.  9.  14. 


THE  EIGHTH    BOOK.  80S 

and  base  swain,  driven  out  of  heart,  and  in  effect  but 
the  gentleman's  labourer.  Even  as  you  may  see  in 
coppice  woods ;  if  you  leave  your  staddles  too  thick, 
you  will  never  have  clean  under-wood,  but  shrubs  and 
bushes.  So  in  countries,  if  the  gentlemen  be  too  many, 
the  commons  will  be  base  ;  and  you  will  bring  it  to 
that,  that  scarce  one  man  in  an  hundred  will  be  fit  for 
an  helmet ;  especially  as  to  the  infantry,  which  is  the 
nerve  of  an  army :  and  so  there  will  be  great  popula- 
tion and  little  strength.  This  which  I  speak  of  has 
been  nowhere  better  seen  than  by  comparing  of  Eng- 
land and  France ;  whereof  England,  though  far  less 
in  territory  and  population,  has  been  nevertheless  an 
overmatch ;  and  for  this  reason,  that  the  yeomen  and 
lower  classes  of  England  make  good  soldiers,  which 
the  peasants  of  France  do  not.  And  herein  the  device 
of  King  Henry  the  Seventh  (whereof  I  have  spoken 
largely  in  the  history  of  his  life)  was  profound  and  ad- 
mirable :  in  making  farms  and  houses  of  husbandry  of 
a  standard ;  that  is,  maintained  with  such  a  proportion 
of  land  attached  inseparably  to  them,  as  may  allow 
a  subject  to  live  in  convenient  plenty  and  no  servile 
condition  ;  and  to  keep  the  plough  in  the  hands  of  the 
owners,  or  at  least  the  tenants,  and  not  mere  hirelings. 
And  thus  indeed  you  shall  attain  to  Virgil's  character 
which  he  gives  to  ancient  Italy : 

Terra  potens  annis,  atque  ubere  glebae.1 

Neither  is  that  state,  (which,  for  anything  I  know,  is 
almost  peculiar  to  England,  and  hardly  to  be  found 
anywhere  else,  except  it  be  perhaps  in  Poland,)  to  be 

1  Virg.  Mn.  i.  531. : 

Hesperia  called,  a  land  divinely  blessed, 

Of  strength  in  arms  and  fruitful  soil  possessed. 


804         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

passed  over ;  I  mean  the  state  of  free  servants  and  at- 
tendants upon  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  who  are  no 
ways  inferior  to  the  yeomanry  as  infantry.  And  there- 
fore out  of  all  question,  the  splendour  and  magnificence 
and  great  retinues  and  hospitality  of  noblemen  and 
gentlemen  received  into  custom  conduce  much  unto 
martial  greatness ;  whereas,  contrariwise,  the  close  and 
reserved  living  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen  causes  a 
penury  of  military  forces. 

By  all  means  it  is  to  be  looked  to,  that  the  trunk  of 
Nebuchadnezzar's  tree  of  monarchy l  be  great  enough 
to  bear  the  branches  and  the  boughs ;  that  is,  that  the 
natural  subjects  of  the  crown  or  state  bear  a  sufficient 
proportion  to  the  stranger  subjects  that  they  govern. 
Therefore  all  states  that  are  liberal  of  naturalization 
towards  strangers  are  fit  for  empire.  For  to  think  that 
an  handful  of  people  can,  with  the  greatest  courage 
and  policy  in  the  world,  embrace  too  large  extent  of 
dominion,  it  may  hold  for  a  time,  but  it  will  fail  sud- 
denly. The  Spartans  were  a  difficult  and  jealous  peo- 
ple in  point  of  naturalization ;  whereby,  while  they 
kept  their  compass,  they  stood  firm  ;  but  when  they 
did  spread,  and  their  boughs  were  become  too  great  for 
their  stem,  they  became  a  windfall  upon  the  sudden. 
Never  was  any  state  in  this  point  so  open  to  receive 
strangers  into  their  body  as  were  the  Romans  ;  there- 
fore it  sorted  with  them  accordingly,  for  they  grew  to 
the  greatest  monarchy.  Their  manner  was  to  grant 
naturalization,  which  they  called  the  right  of  citizen- 
ship, and  to  grant  it  in  the  highest  degree,  that  is,  not 
only  the  right  of  commerce,  the  right  of  marriage,  the 
right  of  inheritance  ;  but  also,  the  right  of  voting,  and 

1  Daniel,  c.  iv. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  305 

the  right  of  bearing  office  ;  and  this  not  to  single  per- 
sons  alone,  but  likewise  to  whole  families;  yea,  to  cities, 
and  sometimes  to  nations.  Add  to  this  their  custom 
of  plantation  of  colonies,  whereby  the  Roman  plant 
was  removed  into  the  soil  of  other  nations  :  and  put- 
ting both  constitutions  together,  you  will  say,  that  it 
was  not  the  Romans  that  spread  upon  the  world,  but  it 
was  the  world  that  spread  upon  the  Romans  :  and  that 
was  the  surest  way  of  greatness.  I  have  mai*velled 
sometimes  at  Spain,  how  they  clasp  and  contain  so 
large  dominions  with  so  few  natural  Spaniards ;  but 
sure  the  whole  compass  of  Spain  is  a  verv  great  body 
of  a  tree,  far  above  Rome  and  Sparta  at  the  first.  And 
besides,  though  they  have  not  had  that  usage  to  natu- 
ralize liberally,  yet  they  have  that  which  is  next  to  it ; 
that  is,  to  employ,  almost  indifferently,  all  nations  in 
their  militia  of  ordinary  soldiers  ;  yea,  and  sometimes 
in  their  highest  commands.  Nay,  it  seems  at  this  in- 
stant they  are  sensible  of  this  want  of  natives  and  desire 
to  remedy  it ;  as  appears  by  the  pragmatical  sanction 
published  in  this  year. 

It  is  certain  that  sedentary  and  within-door  arts,  and 
delicate  manufactures  (that  require  rather  the  finger 
than  the  arm,)  have  in  their  nature  a  contrariety  to  a 
military  disposition.  And  generally  all  warlike  people 
are  a  little  idle,  and  love  danger  better  than  work  ; 

'  O  * 

neither  must  they  be  too  much  broken  off  it,  if  they 
shall  be  preserved  in  vigour.  Therefore  it  was  great 
ad/antage  in  the  ancient  states  of  Sparta,  Athens, 
Rome,  and  others,  that  they  had  the  use  of  slaves  who 
commonly  dispatched  those  manufactures.  But  that 
is  abolished  in  greatest  part  by  the  Christian  law.  That 
which  comes  nearest  to  it  is  to  leave  those  arts  chiefly 

VOL.  IX.  20 


306         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

to  strangers,  who  for  that  purpose  are  to  be  invited  or 
at  least  easily  received,  and  to  contain  the  principal 
bulk  of  the  vulgar  natives  within  those  three  kinds  ; 
tillers  of  the  ground,  free  servants,  and  handicraftsmen 
of  strong  and  manly  arts,  as  smiths,  masons,  carpenters, 
and  the  like  ;  not  reckoning  professed  soldiers. 

But  above  all,  for  empire  and  greatness,  it  is  of  most 
importance  that  a  nation  profess  arms  as  their  principal 
honour,  study,  and  occupation.  For  the  things  which 
we  have  formerly  spoken  of  are  but  qualifications  for 
the  use  of  arms  ;  and  what  is  qualification  without  in- 
tention and  act?  Romulus  after  his  death  (as  they 
report  or  feign),  sent  an  injunction  to  the  Romans,  that 
above  all  they  should  attend  to  arms,  and  then  they 
should  prove  the  greatest  empire  of  the  world.1  The 
fabric  of  the  state  of  Sparta,  was  wholly  and  carefully 
(though  not  wisely)  framed  and  composed  to  that  scope 
and  end  to  make  the  people  warriors.  The  Persians 
and  Macedonians  had  it  for  a  flash.  The  Britons,  Gauls, 
Germans,  Goths,  Saxons,  Normans,  and  others,  had  it 
for  a  time.  The  Turks  have  it  at  this  day,  (being  not 
a  little  stimulated  thereto  by  their  law,)  though  in  great 
declination.  Of  Christian  Europe  they  that  still  have 
it  are  in  effect  only  the  Spaniards.  But  it  is  so  plain 
that  every  man  profits  most  in  that  to  which  he  most 
attends,  that  it  needs  not  to  be  stood  upon.  It  is 
enough  to  point  at  it ;  that  no  nation,  which  does  not 
directly  profess  arms  and  devote  themselves  to  tho 
practice  thereof,  may  look  to  have  any  special  greatness 
fall  into  their  mouths.  And  on  the  other  side  it  is  a 
most  certain  oracle  of  time,  that  those  states  that  con- 
tinue long  in  that  profession  (as  the  Romans  and  Turks 

l  Livy,  i.  16. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  807 

principally  have  done),  do  wonders  in  extension  of 
empire  :  and  those  that  have  professed  arms  but  for  an 
age  have  notwithstanding  commonly  attained  that  great- 
ness in  that  age  which  maintained  them  long  after, 
when  their  profession  and  exercise  of  arms  has  grown 
to  decay. 

Incident  to  this  point  is  for  a  state  to  have  those 
laws  or  customs  which  may  reach  forth  unto  them  just 
occasions  or  at  least  pretexts  for  making  war.  For 
there  is  that  justice  imprinted  in  the  nature  of  men, 
that  they  enter  not  upon  wars  (whereof  so  many 
calamities  do  ensue),  but  upon  some  weighty,  at  the 
least  specious,  grounds  and  quarrels.  The  Turk  has 
at  hand  for  the  cause  of  war  the  propagation  of  his 
law  or  sect ;  a  quarrel  that  he  may  always  command. 
The  Romans,  though  they  esteemed  the  extending  the 
limits  of  their  empire  to  be  great  honour  to  their  gen- 
erals when  it  was  done,  yet  they  never  rested  upon 
that  alone  to  begin  a  war.  First  therefore,  let  nations 
that  pretend  to  greatness  have  this,  that  they  be  quickly 
sensible  of  wrongs,  either  upon  borderers,  merchants, 
or  public  ministers ;  and  that  they  sit  not  too  long 
upon  a  provocation.  Secondly,  let  them  be  prompt 
and  ready  to  give  aids  and  succours  to  their  confed- 
erates and  allies,  as  it  ever  was  writh  the  Romans ;  inso- 
much, as  if  the  confederate,  had  leagues  defensive  with 
vlivers  other  states,  and  upon  invasion  offered  did  im- 
plore their  aids  severally,  yet  the  Romans  would  ever 
be  the  foremost  and  leave  it  to  none  other  to  have  the 
honour.  As  for  the  wars  which  were  anciently  made 
on  the  behalf  of  a  kind  of  party  or  tacit  conformity  of 
estate,  I  do  not  see  how  they  may  be  well  justified ; 
as  when  the  Romans  made  a  war  for  the  liberty  of 


308          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

Greece  ;  or  when  the  Lacedemonians  and  Athenians 
made  wars,  to  set  up  or  pull  down  democracies  and 
oligarchies ;  or  when  wars  were  made  by  common 
wealths  and  princes,  under  the  pretence  of  justice  or 
protection,  to  deliver  the  subjects  of  others  from  tyr- 
anny and  oppression,  and  the  like.  Let  it  suffice  for 
the  present,  that  no  estate  expect  to  be  great  that  is 
not  awake  upon  any  just  occasion  of  arming. 

No  body  can  be  healthful  without  exercise,  neither 
natural  body  nor  politic ;  and  certainly  to  a  kingdom 
or  estate  a  just  and  honourable  war  is  the  true  exer- 
cise. A  civil  war  indeed  is  like  the  heat  of  a  fever; 
but  a  foreign  war  is  like  the  heat  of  exercise,  and 
serves  most  of  all  to  keep  the  body  in  health.  For 
in  a  slothful  peace  both  courage  will  effeminate  and 
manners  corrupt.  But  howsoever  it  be  for  happiness, 
without  all  question  for  greatness,  it  makes  to  be  still 
for  the  most  part  in  arms ;  and  the  strength  of  a  vet- 
eran army  (though  it  be  doubtless  a  costly  business), 
always  on  foot,  is  that  which  commonly  gives  the  law, 
or  2t  least  the  reputation  amengst  all  neighbour  states, 
as  may  be  well  seen  in  Spain ;  which  has  had,  in  one 
part  or  other,  a  veteran  army  almost  continually,  now 
by  the  space  of  six-score  years. 

To  be  master  of  the  sea,  is  an  abridgment  of  a  mon- 
archy. Cicero  writing  to  Atticus  of  Pompey's  prep- 
aration against  Caesar,  says,  "  Pompey's  counsel  is 
plainly  that  of  Themistocles,  for  he  thinks  that  who- 
ever is  master  of  the  sea  is  master  of  the  empire."  l 
And  without  doubt  Pompey  had  tired  out  and  reduced 
Caesar,  if  iipon  vain  confidence  he  had  not  left  that 
way.  We  see  the  great  effects  of  battles  by  sea  from 

l  Cic.  Ep.  ad  Att.  x.  8. 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  309 

many  instances.  The  battle  of  Actium  decided  the 
empire  of  the  world.  The  battle  of  Lepanto  arrested 
the  greatness  of  the  Turk.  There  be  certainly  many 
examples  where  sea-fights  have  put  an  end  to  the  war ; 
but  this  is,  when  princes  or  states  have  risked  their 
whole  fortune  upon  the  battles.  But  thus  much  is 
certain,  that  he  that  commands  the  sea  is  at  great  lib- 
erty, and  may  take  as  much  and  as  little  of  the  war 
as  he  will ;  whereas  those  that  be  strongest  by  land 
are  many  times  nevertheless  in  great  straits.  Surely 
at  this  day  with  us  of  Europe  the  advantage  of  strength 
at  sea  (which  is  one  of  the  principal  dowries  of  this 
kingdom  of  Great  Britain)  is  great ;  both  because 
most  of  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  are  not  merely  in- 
land, but  girt  with  the  sea  most  part  of  their  compass ; 
and  because  the  wealth  and  treasures  of  both  Indies 
seem  in  great  part  but  an  accessory  to  the  command 
of  the  sea. 

The  wars  of  latter  ages  seem  to  be  made  in  the  dark, 
in  respect  of  the  glory  and  honour  which  reflected  upon 
men  from  the  wars  in  ancient  time.  There  be  now  for 
martial  encouragement  some  degrees  and  orders  of 
chivalry,  which  nevertheless  are  conferred  promiscu- 
ously upon  soldiers  and  no  soldiers ;  and  some  remem- 
brance perhaps  upon  the  escutcheon,  and  some  hospi- 
tals for  maimed  soldiers,  and  such  like  things.  But  in 
ancient  times,  the  trophies  erected  upon  the  place  of 
the  victory,  the  funeral  laudatives  and  monuments  for 
those  that  died  in  the  wars,  the  crowns  and  garlands 
personal,  the  style  of  emperor,  which  the  great  kings 
of  the  world  afterwards  borrowed,  the  triumphs  of  the 
generals  upon  their  return,  the  great  donatives  and 
largesses  to  the  soldiers  upon  the  disbanding  of  the 


310         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

armies,  these,  I  say,  and  such  like  dazzling  honours, 
were  things  able  to  inflame  all  men's  courage  and  ex- 
cite even  the  coldest  breast ;  but  above  all,  that  of  the 
triumph  among  the  Romans  was  not  a  pageant  or 
gaudery  but  one  of  the  wisest  and  noblest  institutions 
that  ever  was.  For  it  contained  three  things,  honour 
to  the  general,  riches  to  the  treasury  out  of  the  spoils, 
and  donatives  to  the  army.  But  that  honour  perhaps 
were  not  fit  for  monarchies,  except  it  be  in  the  person 
of  the  monarch  himself  or  his  sons ;  as  it  came  to  pass 
in  the  times  of  the  Roman  emperors,  who  did  appro- 
priate the  actual  triumphs  to  themselves  and  their  sons 
for  such  wars  as  they  achieved  in  person,  and  left  only 
for  wars  achieved  by  subjects  some  triumphal  garments 
and  ensigns  to  the  general. 

To  conclude :  no  man  can,  by  taking  thought,  as  the 
Scripture  saith,  "add  one  cubit  to  his  stature"1  in  this 
little  model  of  a  man's  body ;  but  in  the  great  frame 
of  kingdoms  and  commonwealths  it  is  in  the  power  of 
princes  or  states  to  add  amplitude  and  greatness  to 
their  kingdoms.  For  by  wisely  introducing  such  ordi- 
nances, constitutions,  and  customs,  as  we  have  now 
touched,  and  others  like  them  they  may  sow  greatness 
to  their  posterity  and  succession.  But  these  counsels  are 
commonly  not  observed,  but  left  to  take  their  chance. 

Such  then  are  the  thoughts  that  now  occur  to  me 
touching  the  extension  of  empire.  But  what  avails 
this  consideration,  seeing  that  the  Roman  is  supposed 
to  have  been  the  last  of  earthly  monai'chies  ?  Yet  be- 
cause the  extension  of  empire  was  set  down  as  the  last 
of  the  three  political  duties,  I  could  not  have  passed 
l  St.  Matth.  vi.  27. ;  St.  Luke,  xii.  25. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  811 

it  by  altogether  without  deviating  from  my  proposed 
course.  There  remains  now  the  other  of  the  two  de- 
ficients which  I  mentioned ;  namely,  the  treatise  of 
Universal  Justice,  or  the  Fountains  of  Equity. 

All  who  have  written  concerning  laws  have  written 
either  as  philosophers  or  lawyers.  The  philosophers 
lay  down  many  precepts  fair  in  argument,  but  not  ap- 
plicable to  use :  the  lawyers,  being  subject  and  addicted 
to  the  positive  rules  either  of  the  laws  of  their  own 
country  or  else  of  the  Roman  or  Pontifical,  have  no 
freedom  of  opinion,  but  as  it  were  talk  in  bonds.  But 
surely  the  consideration  of  this  properly  belongs  to 
statesmen,  who  best  understand  the  condition  of  civil 
society,  welfare  of  the  people,  natural  equity,  customs 
of  nations,  and  different  forms  of  government ;  and 
who  may  therefore  determine  laws  by  the  rules  and 
principles  both  of  natural  equity  and  policy.  Where- 
fore let  it  be  my  present  object  to  go  to  the  fountains 
of  justice  and  public  expediency,  and  endeavour  with 
reference  to  the  several  provinces  of  law  to  exhibit  a 
character  and  idea  of  justice  in  general,  by  comparison 
with  which  the  laws  of  particular  states  and  kingdoms 
may  be  tested  and  amended.  I  will  now  therefore  ac- 
cording to  my  custom  set  forth  an  example  thereof  in 
one  of  its  heads. 

Example  of  a  Treatise  on  Universal  Justice  or  the  Fouri' 
tains  of  Equity,  by  Aphorisms :  one  Title  of  it. 

PREFACE. 

APHORISM  1. 

IN  Civil  Society,  either  law  or  force  prevails.  But 
there  is  a  kind  of  force  which  pretends  law,  and  a 


312          TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

kind  of  law  which  savours  of  force  rather  than  equity 
Whence  there  are  three  fountains  of  injustice;  namely, 
mere  force,  a  malicious  ensnarement  under  colour  of 
law,  and  harshness  of  the  law  itself. 

APHORISM  2. 

The  ground  on  which  private  right  rests  is  this.  He 
who  commits  an  injury,  receives  either  pleasure  or 
profit  from  the  act,  but  incurs  danger  from  the  prece- 
dent. For  others  do  not  share  in  the  particular  pleas- 
ure or  profit,  but  look  upon  the  precedent  as  concern- 
ing themselves.  And  hence  they  readily  agree  to 
protect  themselves  by  laws,  that  the  course  of  injury 
may  not  come  round  to  them  in  turn.  But  if  through 
the  state  of  the  times,  and  a  communion  of  guilt,  it 
happen  that  those  whom  a  law  protects  are  not  so 
numerous  or  so  powerful  as  those  whom  it  endangers, 
a  party  is  made  to  overthrow  the  law ;  and  this  is  often 
the  case. 

APHORISM   3. 

Private  right  depends  upon  the  protection  of  pub- 
lic right.  For  the  law  protects  the  people,  and  mag- 
istrates protect  the  laws  ;  but  the  authority  of  the 
magistrates  depends  on  the  sovereign  power  of  the 
government,  the  structure  of  the  constitution,  and  the 
fundamental  laws.  Wherefore,  if  this  part  of  the  con- 
stitution be  sound  and  healthy,  the 'laws  will  be  of  good 
effect,  but  if  not,  there  will  be  little  security  in  them. 

APHORISM  4. 

It  is  not  however  the  only  object  of  public  law,  to 
be  attached  as  the  guardian  of  private  right,  to  protect 
it  from  violation  and  prevent  injuries ;  but  it  extends 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  313 

also  to  religion,  arms,  discipline,  ornaments,  wealth, 
and  in  a  word  to  everything  that  regards  the  well-being 
of  a  state. 

APHORISM  5. 

The  end  and  scope  which  laws  should  have  in  view, 
and  to  which  they  should  direct  their  decrees  and  sanc- 
tions, is  no  other  than  the  happiness  of  the  citizens. 
And  this  will  be  effected,  if  the  people  be  rightly  train- 
ed in  piety  and  religion,  sound  in  morality,  protected 
by  arms  against  foreign  enemies,  guarded  by  the  shield 
of  the  laws  against  civil  discords  and  private  injuries, 
obedient  to  the  government  and  the  magistrates,  and 
rich  and  flourishing  in  forces  and  wealth.  And  for  all 
these  objects  laws  are  the  sinews  and  instruments. 

APHORISM  6. 

This  end  the  best  laws  attain,  but  many  pass  wide 
of  it.  For  there  is  a  strange  and  extreme  difference  in 
laws  ;  some  being  excellent,  some  moderately  good, 
and  others  entirely  vicious.  I  will  therefore  set  down, 
according  to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  what  may  be 
called  certain  "  laws  of  laws,"  whereby  we  may  derive 
information  as  to  the  good  or  ill  set  down  and  deter- 
mined in  every  law. 

APHORISM  7. 

But  before  I  proceed  to  the  actual  body  of  particu- 
lar laws,  I  will  take  a  brief  survey  of  the  virtues  and 
dignities  of  laws  in  general.  That  law  may  be  set 
down  as  good,  wjiich  is  certain  in  meaning,  just  in 
pi*ecept,  convenient  in  execution,  agreeable  to  the  form 
of  government,  and  productive  of  virtue  in  those  that 
live  under  it. 


314          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

TITLE   I. 

Of  the  Primary  Dignity  of  Laws,  that  they  be  certain. 
APHORISM  8. 

Certainty  is  so  essential  to  law,  that  law  cannot  even 
be  just  without  it.  "  For  if  the  trumpet  give  an  un- 
certain sound,  who  shall  prepare  himself  to  the  bat- 
tle ?" 1  So  if  the  law  give  an  uncertain  sound,  who 
shall  prepare  to  obey  it  ?  It  ought  therefore  to  warn 
before  it  strikes.  It  is  well  said  also,  "  That  that  is 
the  best  law  which  leaves  least  to  the  discretion  of  the 
judge  ;  "  2  and  this  comes  from  the  certainty  of  it. 

APHORISM  9. 

Uncertainty  of  laws  is  of  two  kinds ;  the  one,  where 
no  law  is  prescribed  ;  the  other,  where  the  law  is  am- 
biguous and  obscure.  We  must  therefore  speak  first 
of  cases  omitted  by  the  law,  that  in  these  also  we  may 
find  some  rule  of  certainty. 

Of  Cases  omitted  by  the  Law. 
APHORISM  10. 

The  narrow  compass  of  human  wisdom  cannot  take 
in  all  the  cases  which  time  may  discover ;  whence  new 
and  omitted  cases  often  present  themselves.  For  these, 
the  remedy  or  supplement  is  threefold  ;  namely,  by 
reference  to  similar  cases,  by  employment  of  examples 
which  have  not  yet  grown  into  law,  and  by  jurisdictions 
empowered  to  decide  according  to  the  arbitration  of  a 
good  man  and  sound  discretion,  whether  they  be  Prae- 
torian or  Censorian  Courts. 

i  1  Corinth,  xir.  8.  2  Arist.  Rhet.  i.  1. 


THE   EIGHTH  BOOK.  315 

Of  Reference  to  Similar  Cases,  and  the  Extensions  of 
Laws. 

APHORISM    11. 

In  omitted  cases,  the  rule  of  law  is  to  be  drawn 
from  cases  similar  to  them,  but  with  caution  and  judg- 
ment ;  wherein  the  following  rules  are  to  be  observed : 
Let  reason  be  esteemed  prolific,  and  custom  barren. 
Custom  must  not  make  cases.  Whatever  therefore 
is  received  contrary  to  the  reason  of  a  law,  or  even 
where  its  reason  is  obscure,  must  not  be  drawn  into 
consequence. 

APHORISM  12. 

Great  public  good  draws  omitted  cases  to  itself. 
Wherefore  when  any  law  notoriously  and  to  an  ex- 
traordinary degree  respects  and  procures  the  good  of 
the  people,  let  its  interpretation  be  wide  and  compre- 
hensive. 

APHORISM  13. 

It  is  harsh  to  torture  laws,  in  order  that  laws  may 
torture  men.  We  would  not  therefore  that  penal, 
much  less  capital  laws  be  extended  to  new  offences. 
If  however  the  offence  be  old  and  taken  cognizance  of 
by  the  laws,  but  the  prosecution  thereof  fall  upon  a 
new  case,  unprovided  for  by  the  laws,  we  ought  by  all 
means  to  depart  from  the  decrees  of  law  rather  than 
leave  offences  unpunished. 

APHORISM  14. 

In  statutes  which  directly  repeal  the  common  law 
(especially  in  matters  of  frequent  occurrence  and  long 
standing),  we  approve  not  the  proceeding  by  similarity 


816          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

to  cases  omitted.  For  when  the  state  has  long  been 
without  the  entire  law,  and  that  too  in  expressed  cases, 
there  is  little  danger  in  allowing  the  cases  omitted  to 
wait  for  a  remedy  from  a  new  statute. 

APHORISM  15. 

Statutes,  which  have  a  manifest  relation  to  the  time 
when  they  were  made  and  spring  out  of  a  temporary 
emergency  of  state,  when  the  state  of  the  times  is 
altered,  should  have  all  their  due,  if  they  retain  their 
authority  in  the  cases  proper  to  them  ;  for  it  would  be 
preposterous  to  wrest  them  to  omitted  cases. 

APHORISM  16. 

Consequence  does  not  draw  consequence,  but  the 
extension  should  stop  within  the  next  cases ;  other- 
wise there  will  be  a  gradual  lapse  into  dissimilar 
cases,  and  sharpness  of  wit  will  have  greater  power 
than  authority  of  law. 

APHORISM  17. 

When  laws  and  statutes  are  concise  in  style,  extend 
freely ;  when  they  enumerate  particular  cases,  more 
cautiously.  For  as  exception  corroborates  the  appli- 
cation of  law  in  cases  not  excepted,  so  enumeration 
invalidates  it  in  cases  not  enumerated. 

APHORISM  18. 

An  explanatory  statute  stops  the  streams  of  the  stat- 
ute which  it  explains,  and  neither  of  them  admit  of 
extension  afterwards.  For  the  judge  must  not  make 
a  super-extension,  when  the  law  has  once  begun  an 
extension. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  317 

APHORISM   19. 

Formality  of  words  and  acts  admits  not  of  an  exten- 
sion to  similar  cases.  For  formality  loses  its  character 
when  it  passes  from  custom  to  discretion  ;  and  the  in- 
troduction of  new  things  destroys  the  majesty  of  the 
old. 

APHORISM    20. 

The  extension  of  the  law  to  posthumous  cases,  which 
had  no  existence  at  the  time  of  the  passing  of  the  law 
is  easy.  For  where  a  case  could  not  be  expressed,  as 
having  no  existence,  a  case  omitted  is  taken  for  a  case 
expressed,  if  there  be  the  same  reason  for  it. 

Enough  then  on  the  extensions  of  laws  in  cases 
omitted.  I  will  now  speak  of  the  employment  of  ex- 
amples. 

On  Examples,  and  their   Use. 

APHORISM    21. 

I  now  come  to  speak  of  examples,  from  which  jus- 
tice is  to  be  derived  when  the  law  is  deficient.  Of 
custom,  which  is  a  kind  of  law,  and  of  examples  which 
by  frequent  use  have  passed  into  custom  as  a  tacit  law, 
I  will  speak  in  their  place.  But  here  I  will  speak  of 
such  examples  as  happen  seldom  and  at  distant  inter- 
vals, and  have  not  yet  acquired  the  force  of  law ;  to 
show  when,  and  with  what  caution,  the  rule  of  justice 
may  be  sought  from  them  where  the  law  is  deficient. 

APHORISM  22. 

Examples  are  to  be  sought  from  good  and  moderate 
times,  not  from  such  as  are  tyrannical,  factious,  or  dis- 


318         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

solute.    For  those  belonging  to  such  times  are  spurious 
in  their  origin,  and  rather  injurious  than  instructive. 

APHORISM  23. 

Of  examples  the  latest  are  to  be  accounted  the  safest. 
For  why  should  not  that  which  has  been  lately  done 
without  any  subsequent  inconvenience  be  done  again  ? 
But  yet  they  have  less  authority ;  and  if  it  happen  that 
a  reform  be  needed,  modern  examples  savour  more  of 
their  own  age  than  of  right  reason. 

APHORISM  24. 

Ancient  examples  are  to  be  received  cautiously,  and 
with  proper  selection.  For  the  lapse  of  time  makes 
many  alterations,  so  that  what  in  respect  of  time  ap- 
pears ancient  is,  by  reason  of  the  confusion  which  it 
makes  and  its  inconformity  to  the  present  state  of 
things,  really  new.  Wherefore  the  best  examples  are 
those  of  the  middle  time,  or  else  such  a  time  as  is  most 
in  conformity  with  the  present  age  ;  and  this  is  some- 
times to  be  found  in  a  more  remote  age  rather  than  in 
that  immediately  preceding. 

APHORISM  25. 

Keep  within,  or  rather  on  this  side  of  the  limits  of 
the  example,  and  on  no  account  go  beyond  them.  For 
where  there  is  no  rule  of  law,  everything  should  be 
looked  on  with  suspicion ;  and  therefore,  as  in  obscure 
cases,  be  very  careful  how  you  proceed. 

APHORISM  26. 

Beware  of  fragments,  and  epitomes  of  examples ; 
and  look  carefully  into  the  whole  of  the  examples  with 


THE  EIGHTH   BOOK.  319 

all  the  process  thereof.  For  if  it  be  unreasonable  to 
judge  of  part  of  a  law,  without  examining  the  whole ; 
much  more  ought  this  to  have  weight  in  examples,  the 
use  whereof  is  doubtful,  if  they  do  not  exactly  corre- 
spond. 

APHORISM  27. 

It  is  of  great  importance  through  what  hands  exam- 
ples have  passed,  and  by  whom  they  have  been  sanc- 
tioned. For  if  they  have  only  passed  among  clerks 
and  secretaries,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  the  court, 
without  the  manifest  knowledge  of  the  higher  officers ; 
or  among  the  teacher  of  all  errors,  the  people ;  they 
are  to  be  condemned  and  held  of  little  account.  But 
if  they  have  passed  under  the  eyes  of  senators,  judges, 
or  the  principal  courts,  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
must  needs  have  been  strengthened  by  at  least  the 
tacit  approval  of  the  judges,  they  are  entitled  to  more 
authority. 

APHORISM  28. 

Examples,  which  even  though  they  have  been  little 
used  have  been  published,  yet  having  been  well  de- 
bated and  ventilated  in  discourse  and  discussion,  deserve 
more  authority ;  but  those,  which  have  lain  as  it  were 
buried  in  desks  and  archives  and  have  openly  passed 
into  oblivion,  deserve  less.  For  examples  like  waters 
are  most  wholesome  in  a  running  stream. 

APHORISM  29. 

Examples  which  have  reference  to  laws  should  not 
be  sought  from  historians,  but  from  public  acts  and  the 
more  careful  traditions.  For  it  is  a  misfortune  even  of 
the  best  historians,  that  they  do  not  dwell  sufficiently 
upon  laws  and  judicial  acts ;  or  if  by  chance  they  use 


320         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

some  diligence    therein,  yet  they  differ  greatly  from 
the  authentic  reporters. 

APHORISM  30. 

An  example,  which  the  same  or  the  succeeding  age 
has  upon  the  recurrence  of  the  case  rejected,  should 
not  be  readily  re-admitted.  For  the  fact  that  it  was 
once  adopted  does  not  tell  so  much  in  its  favour,  as 
the  subsequent  abandonment  tells  against  it. 

APHORISM  31. 

Examples  are  to  be  used  for  advice,  not  for  rules 
and  orders.  Wherefore  let  them  be  so  employed  as  to 
turn  the  authority  of  the  past  to  the  use  of  the  present. 

Enough  then  of  instruction  from  examples  where 
the  law  is  deficient.  I  must  now  speak  of  the  Courts 
Prastorian  and  Censorian. 

On  Courts  Prcetorian  and  Censorian. 

APHORISM  32. 

Let  there  be  courts  and  jurisdictions  to  determine, 
by  the  judgment  and  discretion  of  a  conscientious  man, 
when  the  rule  of  the  law  is  deficient.  For  the  law  (as 
has  been  before  said)  cannot  provide  for  all  cases,  but 
is  adapted  to  meet  such  as  generally  occur.  And  time, 
according  to  the  ancient  saying,  is  the  wisest  of  all 
things,1  and  daily  creates  and  invents  new  cases. 

APHORISM  33. 

Fresh  cases  happen  both  in  criminal  causes  which 
i  Xen.  Hell.  Hi.  3.  2. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  321 

require  punishment,  and  in  civil  causes  which  require 
relief.  The  courts  which  take  cognizance  of  the  former 
I  call  Censorian,  those  which  respect  the  latter,  Pra3- 
torian. 

APHORISM  34. 

Let  the  Censorian  Courts  have  power  and  jurisdic- 
tion, not  only  to  punish  new  offences,  but  also  to  in- 
crease the  punishments  appointed  by  law  for  old  ones, 
where  the  cases  are  heinous  and  enormous,  provided 
they  are  not  capital.  For  an  enormous  crime  has 
somewhat  of  the  nature  of  a  new  one. 

APHORISM  35. 

In  like  manner  let  the  Praetorian  Courts  have  power 
both  to  abate  the  rigor  of  the  law  and  to  supply  its 
defects.  For  if  relief  is  due  to  a  person  whom  the  law 
has  neo-lected,  much  more  is  it  due  to  one  whom  it  has 

^>  7 

wounded. 

APHORISM  36. 

Let  these  Praetorian  and  Censorian  Courts  entirely 
confine  themselves  to  monstrous  and  extraordinary 
cases,  and  not  encroach  upon  the  ordinary  jurisdictions, 
lest  they  rather  tend  to  supplant  than  to  supply  the 

law. 

APHORISM  37. 

Let  these  jurisdictions  reside  only  in  the  supreme 
courts,  and  not  be  shared  by  the  lower  ;  for  the  power 
of  supplying,  extending,  and  moderating  laws,  differs 
little  from  that  of  making  them. 

APHORISM  38. 

Let  not  these  courts  be  entrusted  to  the  charge  of 
one  man,  but  let  them  consist  of  many.  And  let  not 

VOL.  IX.  21 


322          TRANSLATION  OF   THE   «  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

the  decrees  go  forth  in  silence,  but  let  the  judges  give 
the  reasons  of  their  decision,  and  that  openly  and  in 
full  court ;  so  that  what  is  free  in  point  of  power  may 
yet  be  restrained  by  regard  to  character  and  reputa- 
tion. 

APHORISM  39. 

Let  there  be  no  authority  to  shed  blood;  nor  let 
sentence  be  pronounced  in  any  court  upon  capital  cases, 
except  according  to  a  known  and  certain  law.  God 
himself  denounced  death  before  he  inflicted  it.  Nor 
should  a  man  be  deprived  of  his  life,  who  did  not  first 
know  that  he  was  risking  it. 

APHORISM  40. 

In  the  Censorian  Courts,  let  there  be  opportunity 
for  three  verdicts  ;  that  the  judges  may  not  be  obliged 
to  acquit  or  condemn,  but  be  at  liberty  to  declare  the 
fact  "  not  proven."  And  besides  the  penalty,  let  there 
be  power  also  to  inflict  a  note  or  mark  ;  such  I  mean 
as  shall  not  extend  to  actual  punishment,  but  may  end 
either  in  admonition  only,  or  in  a  light  disgrace  ;  pun- 
ishing the  offender  as  it  were  with  a  blush. 

APHORISM  41. 

In  Censorian  Courts,  let  the  commencements  and 
middle  acts  of  all  great  crimes  and  offences  be  pun- 
ished, even  though  the  end  be  not  consummated.  And 
let  this  be  even  the  principal  use  of  these  courts ;  for 
it  is  as  well  the  part  of  severity  to  punish  the  com- 
mencements of  crimes,  as  of  mercy  to  prevent  their 
completion,  by  punishing  the  intermediate  acts. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  323 

APHORISM   42. 

Especial  care  must  be  taken  in  Praetorian  Courts,  not 
to  afford  relief  in  such  cases  as  the  law  has  not  so  much 
omitted,  as  despised  for  their  unimportance,  or  for  their 
odious  nature  judged  unworthy  of  redress. 

APHORISM    43. 

It  is  of  the  greatest  importance  to  the  certainty  of 
laws  (of  which  I  am  now  treating),  that  Pra3torian 
Courts  be  not  allowed  to  swell  and  overflow,  so  as, 
under  colour  of  mitigating  the  rigour  of  the  law,  to 
break  its  strength  and  relax  its  smews,  by  drawing 
everything  to  be  a  matter  of  discretion. 

APHORISM  44. 

Let  not  the  Praetorian  Courts  have  authority,  under 
any  pretext  of  equity,  to  decree  against  an  express  stat- 
ute. For  in  that  case  the  judge  would  pass  into  the 
legislator,  and  everything  would  be  at  discretion. 

APHORISM  45. 

Some  hold  that  the  jurisdiction  which  decrees  accord- 
ing to  equity  and  conscience,  and  that  which  proceeds 
according  to  strict  justice,  ought  to  be  deputed  to  the 
same  courts  ;  but  others  would  have  them  kept  sepa- 
rate. I  am  clearly  for  keeping  them  separate.  For  if 
there  be  a  mixture  of  jurisdictions,  the  distinction  of 
cases  will  not  be  retained,  but  discretion  will  in  the 
snd  supersede  the  law. 

APHORISM  46. 
The  Prastor's  Table  at  Rome,  wherein  he  set  down 


324          TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

and  published  the  rules  by  which  he  meant  to  judge, 
was  not  established  without  good  reason.  And  after 
this  example,  judges  in  the  Praetorian  Courts  ought,  as 
far  as  possible,  to  propose  certain  rules  for  themselves, 
and  set  them  up  where  they  can  be  seen  by  the  people. 
For  as  that  is  the  best  law  which  leaves  the  least  to 
the  discretion  of  the  judge,  so  he  is  the  best  judge  who 
leaves  the  least  to  himself. 

But  I  will  treat  more  fully  of  these  courts  when  I 
come  to  speak  of  judgments ;  for  here  I  have  only 
noticed  of  them  in  passing,  in  what  way  they  remedy 
and  supply  the  omissions  of  law. 

Of  the  Retrospective  Aspect  of  Laws. 

APHORISM  47. 

There  is  likewise  another  kind  of  supplement  to 
omitted  cases ;  namely,  when  one  law  follows  and 
amends  another,  and  draws  the  omitted  cases  along 
with  it.  And  this  is  done  by  those  laws  and  statutes 
which  are  called  retrospective.  But  laws  of  this  kind 
must  be  used  seldom,  and  with  great  caution  ;  for  we 
approve  not  of  a  Janus  in  laws. 

APHORISM  48. 

He  who  evades  and  narrows  the  words  or  meaning 
of  a  law  by  fraud  and  cavil  deserves  to  be  himself  en- 
snared by  a  subsequent  law.  And  therefore  in  cases 
of  fraud  and  captious  evasion  it  is  just  that  laws  should 
be  retrospective,  and  be  of  assistance  one  to  the  other ; 
that  a  man  who  plots  to  deceive  and  upset  the  present 
laws  may  at  least  feel  apprehensions  from  future  ones. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  325 

APHORISM   49. 

Laws  which  strengthen  and  confirm  the  real  inten- 
tions of  acts  and  instruments  against  the  defects  of 
forms  and  usages  very  properly  include  past  actions. 
For  the  principal  inconvenience  of  a  retrospective  law 
is  that  it  creates  disturbance ;  but  confirmatory  laws  of 
this  sort  tend  rather  to  peace  and  the  settlement  of 
past  transactions.  We  must  however  take  care  not  to 
call  in  question  matters  already  adjudged. 

APHORISM  50. 

It  must  be  observed  that  not  those  only  are  to  be 
considered  retrospective  laws  which  invalidate  acts 
passed  ;  but  those  likewise  wrhich  prohibit  and  restrain 
future  acts  as  necessarily  connected  with  the  past. 
Thus  a  law  which  should  prohibit  certain  artisans  from 
henceforth  selling  their  wares  seems  only  to  bear  upon 
the  future,  yet  it  operates  on  the  past;  for  such  persons 
have  not  now  the  power  to  seek  their  living  in  another 
way. 

APHORISM  51. 

Every  declaratory  law,  though  it  does  not  mention 
the  past,  yet  by  the  very  force  of  the  declaration  must 
needs  apply  to  past  transactions.  For  the  interpreta- 
tion does  not  date  from  the  time  of  the  declaration, 
but  is  made  as  it  were  contemporary  with  the  law  itself. 
And  therefore  enact  no  declaratory  laws,  except  in 
eases  where  they  may  be  justly  retrospective. 

And  here  I  end  that  part  which  treats  of  Uncer- 
tainty of  laws,  where  no  law  exists.  I  must  now  speak 
of  that  other  part,  where  some  law  is  extant,  but  con- 
fused and  obscure. 


326          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 
Of  Obscurity  of  Laws. 

APHORISM    52. 

Obscurity  of  laws  arises  from  four  sources ;  either 
from  an  excessive  accumulation  of  laws,  especially  if 
they  be  mixed  with  such  as  are  obsolete ;  or  from  an 
ambiguity,  or  want  of  clearness  and  distinctness  in  the 
drawing  of  them  ;  or  from  negligent  and  ill-ordered 
methods  of  interpreting  law ;  or  lastly,  from  a  contra- 
diction and  inconsistency  of  judgments. 

Of  Excessive  Accumulation  of  Laws. 

APHORISM  53. 

The  prophet  says,  "  He  shall  rain  snares  upon 
them."  l  But  there  are  no  worse  snares  than  4egal 
snares,  especially  in  penal  laws ;  if  being  infinite  in 
number,  and  useless  through  the  lapse  of  time,  in- 
stead of  being  as  a  lantern  to  the  feet  they  are  as 
nets  in  the  path. 

APHORISM  54. 

There  are  two  ways  in  use  of  making  a  new  statute. 
The  one  confirms  and  strengthens  former  statutes  on 
the  same  subject,  and  then  makes  a  few  additions  and 
alterations.  The  other  repeals  and  cancels  all  former 
enactments,  and  substitutes  an  entirely  new  and  uni- 
form law.  The  last  method  is  the  best.  For  by  the 
former  the  enactments  become  confused  and  compli- 
cated, and  though  indeed  the  immediate  object  is 
effected,  yet  the  body  of  laws  is  in  the  meantime  cor- 
rupted. But  in  the  latter,  though  greater  care  is  re- 
quired in  deliberating  about  the  law  itself,  and  former 

l  Psalm  xi.  6. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  327 

acts  must  be  carefully  searched  and  canvassed  before 
it  pass  ;  yet  it  is  the  best  course  for  securing  harmony 
in  times  to  come. 

APHORISM  55. 

The  Athenians  had  a  custom  of  appointing  six  men 
to  examine  every  year  the  contradictory  titles  of  their 
laws  (which  they  called  Antinomies)  and  to  report  to 
the  people  such  as  could  not  be  reconciled,  that  a  def- 
inite resolution  might  be  passed  concerning  them. 
After  their  example  let  the  legislators  of  every  state 
every  three  or  five  years,  or  as  often  as  it  appears  good, 
review  their  Antinomies.  And  let  these  be  first  exam- 
ined and  drawn  up  by  commissioners  appointed  for  the 
purpose,  and  then  laid  before  the  Parliament,  that  the 
matter  may  be  settled  and  established  by  vote. 

APHORISM  56. 

But  let  there  not  be  too  great  an  eagerness  and  anx- 
iety to  reconcile  or  salve  (as  they  term  it)  these  con- 
tradictory titles  by  fine  and  far-fetched  distinctions. 
For  this  is  a  web  of  the  wit ;  which,  whatever  appear- 
ance of  modesty  and  reverence  it  may  bear,  must  yet 
be  regarded  as  prejudicial,  seeing  that  it  makes  the 
whole  body  of  laws  ill-assorted  and  incoherent.  It  is 
therefore  far  better  to  let  the  worse  titles  drop,  and 
leave  the  best  to  stand  alone. 

APHORISM  57. 

It  should  also  be  a  part  of  the  office  of  the  Commis- 
sioners to  propose  that' obsolete  laws  and  such  as  have 
fallen  into  disuse  should  be  repealed,  as  well  as  anti- 
nomies. For  since  an  express  statute  is  not  regularly 


328         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

abolished  by  disuse,  it  comes  to  pass  that  through  the 
contempt  of  obsolete  laws  the  authority  of  the  rest  is 
somewhat  impaired.  And  from  this  ensues  a  torment 
like  that  of  Mezentius,  whereby  the  living  laws  are 
stifled  in  the  embraces  of  the  dead.  And  above  all 
things  a  gangrene  in  our  laws  is  to  be  avoided. 

APHORISM  58. 

But  in  the  meantime  let  the  Praetorian  Courts  have 
power  to  decree  against  laws  and  statutes  which  are 
obsolete,  and  have  not  lately  passed.  For  though  it 
has  been  well  said,  "  that  no  one  should  be  wiser  than 
the  laws,"1  yet  this  must  be  understood  of  waking  and 
not  of  sleeping  laws.  Not'  so  however  witli  more 
recent  -statutes,  which  are  found  to  be  injurious  to 
public  justice.  The  power  of  giving  relief  in  this  case 
should  be  left  not  to  the  judge,  but  to  kings,  councils, 
and  the  supreme  authorities  of  the  state,  who  should 
be  empowered  to  suspend  the  execution  of  them  by 
Acts  or  Proclamations,  till  the  re-assembling  of  Parlia- 
ment or  of  that  body  which  has  the  power  of  repealing 
them ;  lest  in  the  meantime  the  welfare  of  the  com- 
munity be  endangered. 

Of  New  Digests  of  Laws. 

APHORISM    59. 

But  if  the  laws  by  accumulation  have  grown  so  vo- 
luminous, or  become  so  confused  that  it  is  expedient  to 
remodel  them  entirely,  and  reduce  them  to  a  sound 
and  manageable  body,  let  it  by  all  means  be  done ;  and 
let  it  be  considered  a  heroic  work  ;  and  let  the  authors 

i  Cf.  Arist.  Rhet.  i.  15.  12. ;  and  Thucyd.  iii.  37. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  329 

thereof  be  justly  and  deservedly  reckoned  among  leg- 
islators and  reformers  of  law. 

APHORISM  60. 

This  kind  of  expurgation  and  new  digest  of  laws  is 
effected  by  five  processes.  First,  let  obsolete  laws, 
which  Justinian  calls  old  fables,1  be  omitted.  Secondly, 
let  the  most  approved  antinomies  be  received,  and  the 
rest  abolished.  Thirdly,  let  ffomoionomies,  or  laws 
which  are  of  the  same  import  and  nothing  else  but  re- 
iterations of  the  same  thing,  be  erased,  and  let  the  one 
which  is  the  most  perfect  among  them  be  retained  in 
place  of  all  the  rest.  Fourthly,  let  such  laws  as  de- 
termine nothing,  but  only  propose  questions,  and  leave 
them  undecided,  be  dismissed  in  like  manner.  Lastly, 
let  those  laws  which  are  found  to  be  wordy  and  too 
prolix  be  more  compressed  and  abridged. 

APHORISM  61. 

It  will  be  very  useful  in  a  new  digest  of  laws  to 
digest  and  arrange  separately  on  the  one  side  all  the 
laws  received  as  Common  Law,  the  existence  whereof 
is  as  it  were  from  time  immemorial ;  and  on  the  other 
side  the  statutes,  which  have  from  time  to  time  been 
superadded.  For  in  many  points,  in  passing  judgment,' 
the  interpretation  and  administration  of  the  Common 
Law  are  not  the  same  as  the  Statute  Law.  And  this 
was  the  plan  followed  by  Trebonianus  in  the  Digest 
and  Code. 

APHORISM  62. 

But  in  this  regeneration  and  reconstruction  of  the 
laws,  by  all  means  retain  the  words  and  text  of  the  old 

1  Institut.  Prooem.  §  3. 


330         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

laws  and  law-books,  though  it  be  necessary  to  extract 
them  by  scraps  and  fragments:  and  afterwards  con- 
nect them  together  in  proper  order.  For  although  this 
might  perhaps  be  done  more  conveniently,  and,  if  you 
look  to  right  reason,  more  correctly  also  by  a  new  text 
than  by  patching  up  the  old ;  yet  in  laws  we  ought  not 
so  much  to  look  to  style  and  drawing  up  as  to  author- 
ity, and  its  patron,  antiquity.  Otherwise  the  work 
would  appear  rather  a  matter  of  scholarship  and  meth- 
od, than  a  body  of  commanding  laws. 

APHORISM  63. 

It  will  be  expedient  in  this  new  digest  of  laws  that 
the  old  volumes  do  not  altogether  perish  and  pass  into 
oblivion ;  but  that  they  be  preserved  at  least  in  libra- 
ries, though  the  ordinary  and  promiscuous  use  of  them 
be  prohibited.  For  in  important  cases  it  will  not  be 
amiss  to  examine  and  consider  the  successive  changes 
which  have  taken  place  in  past  laws.  And  surely  it  is 
a  reverent  thing  to  intermingle  antiquity  with  things 
present.  But  this  new  body  of  laws  ought  to  be  regu- 
larly confirmed  by  the  legislative  power  of  the  state ; 
lest,  under  pretence  of  digesting  old  laws,  new  laws 
be  secretly  imposed. 

APHORISM  64. 

It  were  desirable  that  this  instauration  of  the  laws 
should  be  undertaken  in  such  times  as  are  superior  in 
learning  and  experience  to  those  more  ancient  times 
whose  works  and  acts  they  revise.  But  the  reverse 
of  this  happened  in  the  work  of  Justinian.  For  it  is 
an  unfortunate  circumstance,  when  by  the  taste  and 
judgment  of  a  less  wise  and  less  learned  generation 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  331 

the  works  of  the  ancients  are  mutilated  and  recon- 
structed. But  that  is  often  necessary  which  is  not 
best. 

So  much  then  for  obscurity  of  laws  arising  from  an 
excessive  and  confused  accumulation  thereof.  I  now 
come  to  speak  of  the  ambiguous  and  obscure  drawing 
up  of  them. 

Of  the  Confused  and  Obscure  Drawing  up  of  Laws. 

APHORISM  65. 

Obscure  drawing  up  of  laws  arises  either  from  their 
loquacity  and  verbosity,  or  on  the  other  hand  from  an 
excess  of  conciseness,  or  from  the  preamble  of  the  law 
being  at  variance  with  the  body. 

APHORISM  66. 

I  must  now  speak  of  the  obscurity  of  laws  which 
arises  from  their  being  ill  drawn  up.  The  loquacity 
and  prolixity  used  hi  the  drawing  up  of  laws  I  do  not 
approve.  For  it  does  not  at  all  secure  its  intention 
and  purpose ;  but  rather  the  reverse.  For  while  it 
tries  to  enumerate  and  express  every  particular  case 
in  apposite  and  appropriate  words,  expecting  greater 
certainty  thereby;  it  does  in  fact  raise  a  number  of 
questions  about  words ;  so  that,  by  reason  of  the  noise 
and  strife  of  words,  the  interpretation  which  proceeds 
according  to  the  meaning  of  the  law  (which  is  the 
juster  and  sounder  kind  of  interpretation)  is  rendered 
nore  difficult 

APHORISM  67. 

Not  that  I  therefore  approve  of  a  too  concise  and 


332         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

affected  brevity,  as  being  the  style  of  majesty  and 
command,  especially  in  these  times ;  lest  by  chance 
the  law  should  become  like  a  Lesbian  rule.1  We  must 
the.  efore  aim  at  a  mean,  and  look  out  for  a  well-defined 
generality  of  words ;  which  though  it  does  not  attempt 
to  express  all  the  cases  comprehended,  yet  excludes 
with  sufficient  clearness  the  cases  not  comprehended. 

APHORISM  68. 

In  ordinary  laws  and  proclamations  of  state  how- 
ever, in  which  lawyers  are  not  generally  consulted, 
but  every  man  trusts  to  his  own  judgment,  everything 
should  be  more  fully  explained,  and  pointed  out,  as  it 
were  with  the  finger,  to  the  capacity  of  the  people. 

APHORISM  69. 

Nor  should  I  at  all  approve  of  the  preambles  of  laws, 
which  were  formerly  deemed  impertinent,  and  which 
represent  laws  disputing  and  not  commanding,  if  we 
could  endure  the  ancient  manners.  But  as  times  now 
are,  these  preambles  are  necessarily  used  in  most  cases, 
not  so  much  to  explain  the  law,  as  to  persuade  Par- 
liament to  pass  it,  and  also  to  satisfy  the  people.  But 
avoid  preambles  as  much  as  possible,  and  let  the  law 
commence  with  the  enactment. 

APHORISM  70. 

Though  the  intention  and  purport  of  a  law  may  some- 
times be  well  gathered  from  the  prefaces  and  pream- 
bles, yet  the  latitude  or  extension  thereof  should  by  no 
means  be  sought  from  thence.  For  the  preamble  often 
selects  a  few  of  the  most  plausible  and  specious  points 
*  Cf.  Erasm.  Adag.  i.  93.,  and  cf.  Arist.  Ethics,  v.  ]0. 


THE    EIGHTH    BOOK.  338 

by  way  of  example,  even  when  the  law  contains  many 
things  besides.  Or  on  the  other  hand  the  law  some- 
times makes  many  restrictions  and  limitations,  the  rea- 
sons whereof  need  not  be  inserted  in  the  preamble. 
Wherefore  the  extent  and  latitude  of  a  law  is  to  be 
taken  from  the  body  thereof;  for  the  preamble  often 
either  exceeds  or  falls  short  of  it. 

APHORISM  71. 

There  is  one  very  faulty  method  of  drawing  up  laws. 
And  this  is,  when  the  case  at  which  the  law  aims  is 
fully  set  forth  in  the  preamble  ;  and  then  from  the 
force  of  the  word  "  such  "  or  some  like  relative,  the 
body  of  the  law  is  reflected  back  upon  the  preamble, 
which  is  thereby  inserted  and  incorporated  into  the 
law,  and  renders  it  both  more  obscure  and  less  safe. 
For  the  same  care  is  not  usually  employed  in  weighing 
and  examining  the  words  of  the  preamble  which  is 
bestowed  on  the  body  of  the  law  itself. 

But  this  part  of  the  uncertainty  of  laws,  arising  from 
their  being  ill  drawn  up,  I  will  treat  of  more  fully,  when 
I  come  afterwards  to  the  interpretation  of  laws.  And 
so  much  for  the  obscure  drawing  up  of  laws ;  I  must 
now  speak  of  the  methods  of  expounding  law. 

Of  the  Methods  of  Expounding  Law,  and  Removing 
Ambiguities. 

APHORISM   72. 

There  are  five  methods  of  expounding  law,  and  re- 
moving ambiguities  :  namely,  by  reports  of  judgments ; 
by  authentic  writers;  by  auxiliary  books;  by  prelec- 


334         TRANSLATION  OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

tions ;  or  by  the  answers  and  decrees  of  learned  men. 
All  these  if  properly  instituted  will  be  of  great  service 
against  the  obscurity  of  laws. 

Of  the  Reporting  of  Judgments. 

APHORISM  73. 

Above  all  things,  let  the  Judgments  delivered  in  the 
Supreme  and  Principal  Courts  on  important  cases,  es- 
pecially if  they  be  doubtful  and  contain  some  difficulty 
or  novelty,  be  diligently  and  accurately  taken  down. 
For  judgments  are  the  anchors  of  laws,  as  laws  are  of 
the  state. 

APHORISM  74. 

Let  this  be  the  method  of  taking  down  judgments 
and  committing  them  to  writing.  Record  the  cases 
precisely,  the  judgments  themselves  word  for  word  ; 
add  the  reasons  which  the  judges  allege  for  their  judg- 
ments ;  do  not  mix  up  the  authority  of  cases  brought 
forward  as  examples  with  the  principal  case ;  and  omit 
the  perorations  of  counsel,  unless  they  contain  some- 
thing very  remarkable. 

APHORISM  75. 

Let  the  reporters  be  taken  from  the  most  learned 
counsel,  and  receive  a  liberal  salary  from  the  state. 
But  let  not  the  judges  themselves  meddle  with  the 
reports  ;  lest  from  being  too  fond  of  their  own  opinions, 
and  relying  on  their  own  authority,  they  exceed  the 
province  of  a  reporter. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  335 

APHORISM  76. 

Let  these  judgments  be  digested  in  chronological 
order,  and  not  by  method  and  titles.  For  such  writ- 
ings are  a  kind  of  history  or  narrative  of  the  laws. 
And  not  only  the  acts  themselves,  but  the  times  also 
when  they  passed,  give  light  to  a  wise  judge. 

'  Of  Authentic  Writers. 

APHORISM  77. 

Let  the  body  of  law  be  composed  only  of  the  laws 
that  constitute  the  Common  Law,  of  the  constitu- 
tional laws  or  statutes,  and  of  reported  judgments. 
Besides  these,  let  no  others  be  deemed  authentic,  or 
at  least  let  them  be  sparingly  accepted. 

APHORISM  78. 

Nothing  contributes  so  much  to  the  certainty  of  laws 
(whereof  I  am  now  treating),  as  to  keep  the  authentic 
writings  within  moderate  bounds,  and  to  get  rid  of  the 
enormous  multitude  of  authors  and  doctors  of  laws. 
For  by  them  the  meaning  of  laws  is  distracted,  the 
judge  is  perplexed,  the  proceedings  are  made  endless, 
and  the  advocate  himself,  as  he  cannot  peruse  and 
master  so  many  books,  takes  refuge  in  abridgments. 
Perhaps  some  one  good  commentary,  and  a  few  classic 
authors,  or  rather  some  few  selections  from  some  few 
of  them,  may  be  received  as  authentic.  Let  the  rest 
however  be  kept  for  use  in  libraries,  that  the  judges 
or  counsel  may  inspect  them  if  necessary ;  but  lei 
them  not  be  allowed  to  be  pleaded  in  court,  or  to  pass 
into  authorities. 


336          TRANSLATION   OF   THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

Of  Auxiliary  Books. 

APHORISM  79. 

The  science  and  practice  of  the  law  should  not  be 
deprived  of  auxiliary  books,  but  rather  well  furnished 
with  them.  These  are  of  six  kinds ;  namely,  Insti- 
tutes :  On  Terms  of  Law :  On  Rules  of  Law :  An- 
tiquities of  Laws :  Summaries :  and  Forms  of  Plead- 
ing. 

APHORISM  80. 

Students  and  novices  are  to  be  educated  and  trained 
by  Institutes  to  take  in  more  readily  and  profoundly 
the  higher  parts  of  the  law.  Let  these  Institutes  be 
arranged  in  a  clear  and  perspicuous  order.  Let  them 
run  through  the  whole  private  law,  not  omitting  some 
things,  and  dwelling  too  long  on  others ;  but  giving  a 
slight  sketch  of  all ;  so  that  when  the  student  comes  to 
peruse  the  body  of  law  he  may  find  nothing  entirely 
new,  or  of  which  he  has  not  had  a  slight  notion  before- 
hand. But  touch  not  the  public  law  in  these  insti- 
tutes, but  let  that  be  drawn  from  the  fountains  them- 
selves. 

APHORISM  81. 

Construct  a  commentary  on  legal  terms ;  but  let  it 
not  enter  too  curiously  or  laboriously  into  an  explana- 
tion of  their  full  sense.  For  the  object  is  not  so  much 
to  look  for  exact  definitions  of  the  words,  as  for  ex- 
planations to  make  the  way  easier  in  reading  law  books. 
And  let  not  this  treatise  be  digested  in  the  order  of  the 
alphabet,  but  leave  that  to  an  index ;  and  let  the  words 
which  relate  to  the  same  thing  be  arranged  together, 
that  the  one  may  serve  to  explain  the  other. 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  337 

APHORISM  82. 
A  good  and  careful  treatise  on  the  different  rules  of 

O 

law  conduces  as  much  as  anything  to  the  certainty 
thereof;  and  it  deserves  to  be  entrusted  to  the  ablest 
and  wisest  lawyers.  For  I  am  not  content  with  the 
works  of  this  kind  which  are  now  extant.  The  col- 
lection should  consist  not  only  of  the  common  and  well 
known  rules,  but  of  others  likewise  more  subtle  and 
abstruse,  which  may  be  gathered  from  the  harmony  of 
laws  and  decided  cases ;  such  as  are  sometimes  found 
in  the  best  tables  of  contents ;  and  are  in  fact  the  gen- 
eral dictates  of  reason,  which  run  through  the  different 
matters  of  law,  and  act  as  its  ballast. 

APHORISM  83. 

But  let  not  every  decree  or  position  of  law  be  taken 
for  a  rule;  as  is  commonly  done,  ignorantly  enough. 
For  if  this  were  admitted  there  would  be  as  many  rules 
as  laws ;  for  law  is  nothing  else  than  a  commanding  rule. 
But  let  those  be  considered  rules  which  are  inherent  in 
the  very  form  of  justice  ;  and  whereby  it  comes  that 
for  the  most  part  nearly  the  same  rules  are  found  in 
the  civil  laws  of  different  states ;  except  perhaps  that 
they  may  sometimes  vary  with  reference  to  the  forms 
of  constitutions. 

APHORISM  84. 

After  a  rule  has  been  stated  in  a  concise  and  solid 
form  of  words,  let  examples,  and  such  decisions  of 
cases  as  are  most  clear,  be  added  for  the  explanation  ; 
distinctions  and  exceptions  for  the  limitation  ;  and 
kindred  cases  for  the  amplification  of  the  rule. 

VOL.  ix.  22 


338         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 
APHORISM  85. 

It  is  a  sound  precept  not  to  take  the  law  from  the 
rules,  but  to  make  the  rule  from  the  existing  law.  For 
the  proof  is  not  to  be  sought  from  the  words  of  the 
rule,  as  if  it  were  the  text  of  law.  The  rule,  like  the 
magnetic  needle,  points  at  the  law,  but  does  not  settle 
it. 

APHORISM  86. 

Besides  the  body  of  law,  it  will  be  of  service  like- 
wise to  take  a  survey  of  the  antiquities  thereof;  of 
which  though  the  authority  has  perished,  yet  the  rev- 
erence still  remains.  And  by  antiquities  of  laws,  I 
understand  those  writings  on  laws  and  judgments, 
whether  published  or  unpublished,  which  preceded  the 
body  of  law ;  for  these  should  not  be  lost.  Wherefore 
select  the  most  useful  of  them,  (for  many  will  be  found 
to  be  frivolous  and  unprofitable)  and  collect  them  into 
one  volume ;  that  old  fables,  as  Trebonianus  calls  them, 
may  not  be  mixed  up  with  the  actual  laws. 

APHORISM  87. 

It  is  of  great  importance  to  practice,  that  the  whole 
law  should  be  arranged  in  order  under  titles  and  heads ; 
to  which  reference  may  be  made  at  once,  when  occa- 
sion shall  require  as  to  a  store  house  provided  for  pres- 
ent wants.  Summaries  of  this  kind  both  reduce  to 
order  what  is  dispersed  in  the  law,  and  abridge  what  is 
diffuse  and  prolix.  But  we  must  take  care  that  while 
they  make  men  ready  in  pi'actice,  they  do  not  make 
them  idlers  in  the  science  itself;  for  their  business  is 
to  facilitate  the  recollection  of  the  law,  not  to  teach 
it.  But  these  summaries  are  by  all  means  to  be  con- 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  339 

structed  with  great  care,  accuracy,  and  judgment,  lest 
they  cheat  the  laws. 

APHORISM  88. 

Collect  the  different  forms  of  pleading  of  every  sort. 
For  this  is  both  a  help  to  practice ;  and  besides,  these 
forms  disclose  the  oracles  and  mysteries  of  laws.  For 
many  things  lie  concealed  in  the  laws,  which  in  these 
forms  of  pleading  are  more  fully  and  clearly  revealed ; 
the  one  being  as  the  fist,  the  other  as  the  open  hand. 

Of  Answers  and  Opinions. 

APHORISM  89. 

Some  means  should  be  devised  for  solving  and  clear- 
ing away  the  particular  doubts  which  from  time  to  time 
arise.  For  it  is  hard  that  they  who  desire  to  secure 
themselves  from  error  should  not  be  able  to  find  a 
guide  ;  but  that  their  actions  must  themselves  run  the 
risk,  there  being  no  means  of  knowing  the  law  before 
the  thing  is  done. 

APHORISM  90. 

I  do  not  approve  that  the  answers  of  learned  men, 
\vhether  advocates  or  doctors  of  law,  given  to  those 
•who  ask  their  advice  on  a  point  of  law,  should  have 
such  authority  that  the  judge  should  not  be  allowed 
to  depart  from  their  opinions.  Let  the  laws  be  taken 
from  sworn  judges. 

APHORISM  91. 

I  do  not  approve  that  men  should  make  trial  of  judg- 
ments under  feigned  persons  and  causes,  for  the  pur- 


340         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

pose  of  ascertaining  what  the  rule  of  law  will  be.  For 
this  lowers  the  majesty  of  the  laws  and  is  a  kind  of 
prevarication.  Besides,  it  is  unseemly  for  judicial  pro- 
ceedings to  borrow  anything  from  the  stage. 

APHORISM  92. 

Therefore,  let  judgments,  as  well  as  answers  and 
opinions,  proceed  from  the  judges  alone  ;  the  former 
in  questions  on  pending  suits,  the  latter  on  difficult 
points  of  law.  And  let  not  these  opinions,  whether 
on  public  or  private  matters,  be  demanded  from  the 
judges  themselves,  (for  that  were  to  turn  the  judge 
into  an  advocate)  ;  but  from  the  king  or  state.  Let 
the  king  or  state  refer  them  to  the  judges.  Let  the 
judges  thus  authorised  hear  the  pleadings  of  the  advo- 
cates, whether  selected  by  the  parties  themselves,  or 
(if  necessary)  appointed  by  the  judges  themselves, 
and  the  arguments  on  both  sides ;  and  after  deliber- 
ating on  the  case  let  them  deliver  and  declare  the  law. 
Let  these  opinions  be  recorded  and  published  among 
judgments,  and  be  of  equal  authority  with  them. 

Of  Prelections. 

APHORISM  93. 

Let  the  lectures  and  exercises  of  those  who  study 
and  labour  at  the  law  be  so  ordered  and  instituted,  as 
rather  to  set  legal  questions  and  controversies  at  rest, 
than  to  raise  and  excite  them.  For  at  present  there 
are  nothing  but  schools  and  institutions  for  multiplying 
altercations  and  controversies  on  points  of  law,  as  if  for 
the  display  of  wit.  And  this  evil  is  also  an  old  one. 
For  it  was  likewise  the  pride  of  antiquity,  as  by  sects 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  341 

and  factions,  to  keep  alive  a  number  of  questions  of 
law,  rather  than  to  settle  them.  Let  this  however  be 
provided  against. 

Of  Inconsistency  of  Judgments. 

APHORISM  94. 

Inconsistency  of  judgments  arises  either  from  an 
immature  and  hasty  decision,  or  from  the  rivalry  of 
Courts,  or  from  a  bad  and  ignorant  reporting  of  judg- 
ments, or  from  too  great  facility  being  given  for  their 
reversal.  Care  therefore  should  be  taken  that  judg- 
ments proceed  after  mature  deliberation ;  that  courts 
preserve  mutual  respect  for  one  another;  that  judg- 
ments be  faithfully  and  wisely  reported ;  and  that  the 
way  to  a  repeal  of  judgments  be  narrow,  rocky,  and 
as  it  were  paved  with  flint  stones. 

APHORISM  95. 

If  judgment  be  given  on  any  case  in  a  principal 
court,  and  a  similar  case  occur  in  any  other,  do  not 
proceed  to  pass  judgment  till  a  consultation  has  been 
held  in  some  general  assembly  of  the  judges.  For  if 
it  be  that  previous  decisions  must  be  rescinded,  at  least 
let  them  be  interred  with  honour. 

APHORISM  96. 

That  Courts  should  fence  and  dispute  about  juris- 
diction is  natural  to  humanity  ;  the  rather  because  of 
a  foolish  doctrine,  that  it  is  the  part  of  a  good  and 
active  judge  to  extend  the  jurisdiction  of  his  Court ; 
which  stimulates  the  disease  and  applies  a  spur  where 
a  bit  is  needed.  But  that  through  this  spirit  of  con- 


342         TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

tention  courts  should  freely  rescind  each  other's  judg- 
ments (judgments  having  nothing  to  do  with  the  ques- 
tion of  jurisdiction)  is  an  intolerable  evil,  that  should 
by  all  means  be  put  down  by  kings  or  senates  or  gov- 
ernments. For  it  is  a  most  pernicious  example,  that 
courts,  whose  business  it  is  to  keep  the  subjects  at 
peace,  should  be  at  war  with  one  another. 

APHORISM  97. 

Let  not  the  way  to  a  repeal  of  judgments  by  appeals, 
writs  of  error,  new  trials,  and  the  like,  be  much  too 
easy  and  open.  Some  hold  that  a  suit  should  be  with- 
drawn to  a  higher  court,  as  quite  a  new  cause,  the 
previous  judgment  being  completely  laid  aside  and 
suspended.  Others  are  of  opinion  that  the  judgment 
itself  should  remain  in  full  force,  whilst  only  its  execu- 
tion should  be  deferred.  I  do  not  like  either  of  these 
ways  ;  unless  the  courts  wherein  judgment  has  been 
delivered  be  of  a  low  and  inferior  character ;  but  I 
would  rather  let  both  the  judgment  stand,  and  the  exe- 
cution proceed,  the  defendant  only  giving  security  for 
costs  and  damages  if  the  judgment  be  reversed. 

This  Title  then  touching  Certainty  of  Laws  shall 
stand  as  a  model  of  the  rest  of  the  Digest  which  I 
have  in  mind. 

But  here  I  have  concluded  Civil  Knowledge  (as  far 
as  I  have  thought  right  to  handle  it),  and  together 
with  it  Human  Philosophy,  and,  with  Human  Philos- 
ophy, Philosophy  in  General.  At  length  therefore 
having  arrived  at  some  pause,  and  looking  back  into 
those  things  which  I  have  passed  through,  this  treatise 
of  mine  seems  to  me  not  unlike  those  sounds  and  prel- 


THE  EIGHTH  BOOK.  343 

ndes  which  musicians  make  while  they  are  tuning  their 
instruments,  and  which  produce  indeed  a  harsh  and 
unpleasing  sound  to  the  ear,  but  tend  to  make  the  mu- 
sic sweeter  afterwards.  And  thus  have  I  intended  to 
employ  myself  in  tuning  the  harp  of  the  muses  and  re- 
ducing it  to  perfect  harmony,  that  hereafter  the  string* 
may  be  touched  by  a  better  hand  or  a  better  quill.  And 
surely,  when  I  set  before  me  the  condition  of  these 
rimes,  in  which  learning  seems  to  have  now  made  her 
third  visitation  to  men  ;  and  when  at  the  same  time  I 
attentively  behold  with  what  helps  and  assistances  she 
is  provided ;  as  the  vivacity  and  sublimity  of  the  many 
wits  of  this  age  ;  the  noble  monuments  of  ancient  writ- 
ers, which  shine  like  so  many  lights  before  us  ;  the  art 
of  printing,  which  brings  books  within  reach  of  men 
of  all  fortunes  ;  the  opened  bosom  of  the  ocean,  and 
the  world  travelled  over  in  every  part,  whereby  mul- 
titudes of  experiments  unknown  to  the  ancients  have 
been  disclosed,  and  an  immense  mass  added  to  Natural 
History ;  the  leisure  time  which  the  greatest  wits  in 
the  kingdoms  and  states  of  Europe  everywhere  have  at 
their  disposal,  not  being  so  much  employed  in  civil 
business  as  were  the  Greeks  in  respect  of  their  popular 
governments,  and  the  Romans  in  respect  of  the  great- 
ness of  their  monarchy ;  the  peace  which  Britain, 
Spain,  Italy,  France  too  at  last,  and  many  other  coun- 
tries now  enjoy;  the  consvimption  and  exhaustion  of 
all  that  can  be  thought  or  said  on  religious  questions, 
which  have  so  long  diverted  many  men's  minds  from 
the  study  of  other  arts ;  the  excellence  and  perfection 
of  your  Majesty's  learning,  which  calls  whole  flocks  of 
wits  around  you,  as  birds  round  a  phoenix  ;  and  lastly 
the  inseparable  property  of  time,  ever  more  and  more 


344         TRANSLATION  OF  THE      DE  AUGMENTIS." 

to  disclose  Truth  ;  I  cannot,  f  say,  when  I  reflect  on 
these  things  but  be  raised  to  this  hope,  that  this  third 
period  will  far  surpass  the  Greek  and  Roman  in  learn- 
ing ;  if  only  men  will  wisely  and  honestly  know  their 
own  strength  and  their  own  weakness  ;  and  take  from 
one  another  the  light  of  invention  and  not  the  fire  of 
contradiction  ;  and  esteem  the  inquisition  of  truth  as  a 
noble  enterprise,  and  not  a  pleasure  or  an  ornament; 
and  employ  wealth  and  magnificence  on  things  of 
worth  and  excellence,  not  on  things  vulgar  and  of  pop- 
ular estimation.  As  for  my  labours,  if  any  man  shall 
please  himself  or  others  in  the  reprehension  of  them, 
they  shall  make  at  all  events  that  ancient  and  patient 
request,  "  Strike,  but  hear." 1  Let  men  reprehend 
them  as  much  as  they  please,  if  only  they  observe  and 
weigh  what  is  said.  For  the  appeal  is  lawful,  though 
perhaps  it  may  not  be  necessary,  from  the  first  cogita- 
tions of  men  to  their  second,  and  from  the  present  age 
to  posterity.  Now  let  us  come  to  that  learning  which 
the  two  former  periods  have  not  been  so  blessed  as  to 
know,  namely,  Sacred  and  Inspired  Divinity,  the  most 
noble  Sabbath  and  port  of  all  men's  labours  and  pere- 
grinations. 

i  Plut  in  Theorist,  c.  11. 


THE    ADVANCEMENT   OF   LEAENING. 
BOOK  IX. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Divisions  of  Inspired  Divinity  are  omitted — Intro- 
duction only  is  made  to  three  Deficients  ;  namely,  the 
Doctrine  concerning  the  Legitimate  Use  of  the  Human 
Reason  in  Divine  Subjects  ;  the  Doctrine  concerning 
the  Degress  of  Unity  in  the  Kingdom  of  Crod  ;  and 
the  Emanations  of  the  Scriptures. 

SEEING  now,  most  excellent  king,  that  my  little  bark, 
such  as  it  is,  has  sailed  round  the  whole  circumference 
of  the  old  and  new  world  of  sciences  (with  what  suc- 
cess and  fortune  it  is  for  posterity  to  decide),  what 
remains  but  that  having  at  length  finished  my  course  I 
should  pay  my  vows  ?  But  there  still  remains  Sacred 
or  Inspired  Divinity  ;  whereof  however  if  I  proceed 
to  treat  I  shall  step  out  of  the  bark  of  human  reason, 
and  enter  into  the  ship  of  the  church ;  which  is  only 
able  by  the  Divine  compass  to  rightly  direct  its  course. 
Neither  will  the  stars  of  philosophy,  which  have  hith- 
erto so  nobly  shone  upon  us,  any  longer  supply  their 
light.  So  that  on  this  subject  also  it  will  be  as  well  to 
keep  silence.  I  will  accordingly  omit  the  proper  divi- 


346          inAiNsLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

sions  thereof,  contributing  however  a  few  remarks 
upon  it,  according  to  my  slender  ability,  by  way  of 
paying  my  vows.  And  I  am  the  more  inclined  to 
do  this,  because  in  the  body  of  Theology  I  find  no 
region  or  district  entirely  desert  and  uncultivated  ; 
such  has  been  the  diligence  of  man  in  sowing  wheat 
or  tares. 

I  will  propose  therefore  three  Appendices  of  Theol- 
ogy, which  treat,  not  of  the  matter  concerning  which 
theology  gives  or  shall  give  information,  but  only  of 
the  manner  in  which  the  information  is  imparted.  I 
will  not  however,  as  in  other  like  cases,  either  intro- 
duce examples  or  give  precepts.  That  I  will  leave  to 
theologians  ;  for  these,  as  I  -have  said,  are  only  in  the 
place  of  vows. 

The  prerogative  of  God  comprehends  the  whole  man, 
extending  to  the  reason  as  well  as  to  the  will ;  that  man 
may  deny  himself  entirely,  and  draw  near  unto  God. 
Wherefore  as  we  are  bound  to  obey  the  dmne  law 
though  we  find  a  reluctation  in  our  will,  so  are  we  to 
believe  His  word  though  we  find  a  reluctation  in  our 
reason.  For  if  we  believe  only  that  which  is  agreeable 
to  our  sense,  we  give  consent  to  the  matter  and  not  to 
the  author,  which  is  no  more  than  we  would  do  to  a 
suspected  witness.  But  that  faith  which  was  accounted 
to  Abraham  for  righteousness  was  of  such  a  nature 
that  Sarah  laughed  at  it,  who  therein  was  an  image  of 
natural  reason.  The  more  discordant  therefore  and 
incredible  the  Divine  mystery  is,  the  more  honour  is 
shown  to  God  in  believing  it,  and  the  nobler  is  the 
/ictory  of  faith.  Nay,  even  sinners,  the  more  they  are 
oppressed  in  their  conscience,  trusting  nevertheless  to 
be  saved  through  the  mercy  of  God,  the  more  do  they 


THE  NINTH  BOOK.  847 

honour  Him ;  for  all  despair  is  a  kind  of  reproach  to- 
wards God.  Howbeit,  if  we  will  truly  consider  it,  it 
is  more  worthy  to  believe,  than  to  know  as  we  now 
know.  For  in  knowledge  man's  mind  suffers  from 
sense  which  is  the  reflection  of  things  material,  but  in 
faith  the  spirit  suffers  from  spirit  which  is  a  worthkr 
agent.  Otherwise  it  is  in  the  state  of  man  glorified, 
for  then  faith  shall  cease,  and  we  shall  know  even  as 
we  are  known. 

Wherefore  we  conclude  that  Sacred  Theology  ought 
to  be  derived  from  the  word  and  oracles  of  God,  and 
not  from  the  light  of  nature,  or  the  dictates  of  reason. 
For  it  is  written,  "  The  heavens  declare  the  glory 
of  God," l  but  it  is  nowhere  written,  "  The  heavens 
declare  the  will  of  God  ; "  but  of  that  it  is  said,  "  To 
the  law  and  to  the  testimony ;  if  men  do  not  according 
to  this  word,  &c."  2  And  this  holds  not  only  in  those 
great  mysteries  which  concern  the  Deity,  the  Creation, 
and  the  Redemption ;  but  it  pertains  likewise  to  a  more 
perfect  interpretation  of  the  moral  law,  "  Love  your 
enemies ;  "  "do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,"  and  so 
on  ;  "  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  father  who 
is  in  heaven,  that  sendeth  rain  upon  the  just  and  the 
unjust."3  To  which  words  this  applause  may  well  be 
applied,  "that  they  do  not  sound  human;"4  since  it 
is  a  voice  beyond  the  light  of  nature.  Again,  we  see 
the  heathen  poets,  especially  when  they  discourse  of 
the  passions,  often  expostulate  with  laws  and  moral 
doctrines  (which  yet  are  far  more  easy  and  indulgent 
than  the  divine  laws),  as  if  they  were  contradictory 

l  Psalm  xix.  1.  2  Isaiah,  viii.  20. 

«  St.  Matt,  v.  44,  45. 

*  Virg.  jEn.  i.  328. :  Ncc  vox  homin'im  sonat. 


348          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

and  malignant  to  the  liberty  of  nature  ;  "  What  nature 
grants  the  envious  laws  deny." 1  So  said  Dendamis 
the  Indian  to  Alexander's  messengers,  "  That  he  had 
heard  somewhat  of  the  name  of  Pythagoras  and  some 
other  wise  men  of  Greece,  and  that  he  held  them  for 
excellent  men  ;  but  that  they  had  a  fault,  which  was 
that  they  had  too  great  reverence  and  veneration  for 
a  kind  of  phantom,  which  they  called  law  and  man- 
ners."2 Wherefore  it  must  be  confessed  that  a  great 
part  of  the  moral  law  is  higher  than  the  light  of  nature 
can  aspire  to.  Nevertheless  what  is  said,  that  man  has 
by  the  light  and  law  of  nature  some  notions  of  virtue 
and  vice,  justice  and  injustice,  good  and  evil,  is  most 
true.  For  we  must  observe- that  the  light  of  nature  is 
used  in  two  several  senses  ;  the  one,  as  far  as  it  springs 
from  sense,  induction,  reason,  argument,  according  to 
the  laws  of  heaven  and  earth ;  the  other,  as  far  as  it 
flashes  upon  the  spirit  of  man  by  an  inward  instinct, 
according  to  the  law  of  conscience  ;  which  is  a  spark 
and  relic  of  his  primitive  and  original  purity.  And  in 
this  latter  sense  chiefly  does  the  soul  partake  of  some 
light  to  behold  and  discern  the  perfection  of  the  moral 
law  ;  a  light  however  not  altogether  clear,  but  such  as 
suffices  rather  to  reprove  the  vice  in  some  measure, 
than  to  give  full  information  of  the  duty.  So  then 
religion,  whether  considered  with  regard  to  morals  or 
mysteries,  depends  on  revelation  from  God. 

The  use  notwithstanding  of  reason  in  spiritual  things 
is  manifold  and  very  general.  For  it  is  not  for  nothing 
that  the  Apostle  called  religion,  "  Our  reasonable  ser- 

*  Ovid,  Metam.  x.  330. : 

Et  quod  natura  remittit, 
Invida  jura  negant. 
«  Cf.  Plut.  in  Alex.  c.  65. ;  and  Strabo,  i.  xv. 


THE  NINTH   BOOK.  349 

vice  of  God." 1  If  we  review  the  types  and  ceremonies 
of  the  old  law  we  see  that  they  were  full  of  reason  and 
signification,  differing  widely  from  the  ceremonies  of 
idolatry  and  magic,  which  were  like  surds  and  non- 
significants,  mostly  without  meaning,  and  not  even  sug- 
gestive of  anything.  But  especially  the  Christian  faith, 
as  in  all  things,  so  in  this  is  pre-eminent ;  holding  the 
golden  mean  touching  the  use  of  reason  and  discus- 
sion (the  child  of  reason)  between  the  law  of  the 
heathen  and  the  law  of  Mahomet,  which  embrace  the 
two  extremes.  For  the  religion  of  the  heathen  had 
no  constant  belief  or  confession  ;  and  the  religion  of 
Mahomet  on  the  other  side  interdicts  argument  alto- 
gether ;  so  that  the  one  has  the  very  face  of  vague 
and  manifold  error,  the  other  of  crafty  and  cautious 
imposture ;  whereas  the  holy  Christian  faith  both  ad- 
mits and  rejects  the  use  of  reason  and  disputation,  but 
according  to  just  limitations. 

The  use  of  human  reason  in  matters  of  religion  is 
of  two  sorts ;  the  former  in  the  explanation  of  the  mys- 
tery, the  latter  in  the  inferences  derived  from  it.  With 
regard  to  the  explanation  of  the  mysteries,  we  see  that 
God  vouchsafes  to  descend  to  the  weakness  of  our  ap- 
prehension, by  so  expressing  his  mysteries  that  they 
may  be  most  sensible  to  us ;  and  by  grafting  his  reve- 
lations upon  the  notions  and  conceptions  of  our  reason  ; 
and  by  applying  his  inspirations  to  open  our  under- 
standing, as  the  form  of  the  key  to  the  ward  of  the 
lock.  But  here  we  ought  by  no  means  to  be  wanting 
to  ourselves  ;  for  as  God  uses  the  help  of  our  reason  to 
Jluminate  us,  so  should  we  likewise  turn  it  every  way, 
that  we  may  be  more  capable  of  receiving  and  under- 

1  Romans,  xii.  1. 


350          TRANSLATION   OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

standing  His  mysteries ;  provided  only  that  the  mind 
be  enlarged,  according  to  its  capacity,  to  the  grandeur 
of  the  mysteries,  and  not  the  mysteries  contracted  to 
the  narrowness  of  the  mind. 

But  with  regard  to  inferences,  we  should  know  that 
there  is  allowed  us  a  use  of  reason  and  argument  (in 
regard  to  mysteries)  secondary  and  respective,  though 
not  original  and  absolute.  For  after  the  articles  and 
principles  of  religion  have  been  set  in  their  true  place, 
so  as  to  be  completely  exempted  from  the  examination 
of  reason,  it  is  then  permitted  us  to  derive  and  deduce 
inferences  from  them  according  to  their  analogy.  In 
nature  indeed  this  holds  not.  For  both  the  principles 
themselves  are  examinable,  though  not  by  a  syllogism, 
yet  by  induction  ;  and  besides,  these  same  principles 
have  no  discordance  with  reason,  so  that  the  first  and 
middle  propositions  are  derived  from  the  same  fountain. 
It  is  otherwise  in  religion,  where  the  first  propositions 
are  not  only  self-existent  and  self-supporting ;  but  like- 
wise unamenable  to  that  reason  which  deduces  conse- 
quent propositions.  Nor  yet  does  this  hold  in  religion 
alone,  but  also  in  other  sciences  both  of  a  greater  and 
smaller  nature  ;  namely,  wherein  the  primary  proposi- 
tions are  arbitrary  and  not  positive  ;  for  in  these  also 
there  can  be  no  use  of  absolute  reason.  For  we  see  in 
games,  as  chess  or  the  like,  that  the  first  rules  and  laws 
are  merely  positive,  and  at  will ;  and  that  they  must 
be  received  as  they  are,  and  not  disputed ;  but  how  to 
play  a  skilful  and  winning  game  is  scientific  and  ra- 
tional. So  in  human  laws  there  are  many  maxims,  as 
they  call  them,  which  are  mere  Placets  of  Law,  depend- 
ent on  authority  rather  than  upon  reason,  and  there- 
fore not  to  be  disputed.  But  what  is  most  just,  not 


THE  NINTH  BOOK.  351 

absolutely  but  relatively  (that  is,  according  to  these 
maxims),  that  is  a  matter  of  reason,  and  opens  a  wide 
field  for  disputation.  Such  therefore  fs  that  secondary 
reason  which  has  place  in  Divinity,  which  is  grounded 
upon  the  Placets  of  God. 

But  as  the  use  of  the  human  reason  in  things  divine 
is  of  two  kinds,  so  likewise  in  the  use  there  are  two 
kinds  of  excess  ;  the  one  when  it  inquires  too  curiously 
into  the  manner  of  the  mystery ;  the  other  when  the 
same  authority  is  attached  to  inferences  as  to  principles. 
For  he  may  appear  to  be  the  disciple  of  Nicodemus 
who  persists  in  asking,  "  How  can  a  man  be  born  when 
he  is  old  ?  " 1  And  he  can  be  nowise  considered  the 
disciple  of  Paul  who  does  not  sometimes  insert  in  his 
doctrines,  "I,  not  the  Lord;"  or  again,  "According  to 
my  counsel ;" 2  which  style  is  generally  suited  to  in- 
ferences. Wherefore  it  appears  to  me  that  it  would 
be  of  especial  use  and  benefit,  if  a  temperate  and  care- 
ful treatise  were  instituted,  which,  as  a  kind  of  divine 
logic,  should  lay  down  proper  precepts  touching  the  use 
of  human  reason  in  theology.  For  it  would  act  as  an 
opiate,  not  only  to  lull  to  sleep  the  vanity  of  curious 
speculations,  wherewith  sometimes  the  schools  labour, 
but  also  in  some  degree  to  assuage  the  fury  of  contro- 
versies, wherewith  the  church  is  troubled.  Such  a 
treatise  I  reckon  among  the  things  deficient ;  and  call 
it  Sophron  or  The  Legitimate  Use  of  Human  Reason  in 
Divine  Subjects. 

It  is  of  extreme  importance  to  the  peace  of  the 
Church,  that  the  Christian  covenant  ordained  by  our 
Saviour  be  properly  and  clearly  explained  in  those  two 
heads,  which  appear  somewhat  discordant ;  whereof  the 

1  St.  John,  iii.  4.  10.  2  1  Corinth,  vii.  10. 


352         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "DE  AUGMENTIS." 

one  lays  down,  "  He  that  is  not  with  us  is  against  us ; "  * 
and  the  other,  "He  that  is  not  against  us  is  with  us."2 
From  this  it  is  evident  that  there  are  some  articles, 
wherein  if  a  man  dissent  he  is  placed  beyond  the  pale 
of  the  covenant ;  but  that  there  are  others  in  which  he 
may  dissent,  and  yet  remain  within  it.  For  the  bonds 
of  the  Christian  Communion  are  set  down,  "  one  Lord, 
one  Faith,  one  Baptism,  &c.,"  3  not  one  Ceremony,  one 
Opinion.  So  we  see  the  coat  of  our  Saviour  was  with- 
out seam,  but  the  garment  of  the  church  was  of  divers 
colours.  The  chaff  should  be  separated  from  the  corn 
in  the  ear,  but  the  tares  should  not  be  pulled  up  from 
the  corn  in  the  field.  Moses,  when  he  saw  the  Egyp- 
tian fighting  with  the  Israelite,  did  not  say,  "  Why 
strive  ye?  "  but  drew  his  sword  and  slew  the  Egyptian.4 
But  when  he  saw  the  two  Israelites  fighting,  though 
it  were  not  possible  for  both  to  be  in  the  right,  yet  he 
addresses  them  thus,  "  Ye  are  brethren,  why  strive 
ye?"  And  therefore  on  these  considerations  it  appears 
a  thing  of  great  use  and  importance,  well  to  define 
what  and  of  what  latitude  those  points  are,  which  dis- 
incorporate men  from  the  Church  of  God,  and  excom- 
municate them  from  the  communion  of  the  faithful. 
And  if  any  one  think  that  this  has  already  been  done, 
iet  him  think  again  and  again,  and  say  whether  it  has 
Oeen  done  with  sincerity  and  moderation.  Meanwhile 
if  a  man  talks  of  peace,  he  is  very  like  to  get  the  an- 
swer of  Jehu  to  the  message,  ("  Is  it  peace,  Jehu  ?  ") 
"  What  hast  thou  to  do  with  peace  ?  turn  thee  behind 
me  ;"5  for  it  is  not  peace  but  party  that  most  men  care 
for.  Nevertheless  I  have  thought  right  to  set  down 

l  St  Luke,  xi.  23.  or  St.  Matt.  xii.  30.  2  St.  Luke,  ix.  50. 

«  Ephes.  iv.  5.  *  Exod.  ii.  12.  6  2  Kings,  ix.  19. 


THE  NINTH  BOOK.  353 

among  the  deficients  a  treatise  on  the  degrees  of  Unity 
in  the  kingdom  of  Grod,  being  as  a  wholesome  and  prof- 
itable undertaking. 

Since  the  Holy  Scriptures  are  the  principal  sources 
of  information  in  theology,  we  must  especially  look  to 
their  interpretation.  And  I  am  not  now  speaking  of 
the  authority  of  interpreting  them,  which  rests  in  the 
consent  of  the  church ;  but  of  the  manner  thereof; 
which  is  of  two  sorts ;  methodical  and  free.  For  this 
divine  water,  which  excels  so  much  that  of  Jacob's 
well,  is  drawn  forth  and  employed  much  in  the  same 
manner  as  natural  water  is  out  of  wells  and  fountains. 
For  it  is  either  first  forced  up  into  cisterns,  whence  it 
may  be  conveniently  fetched  and  derived  by  pipes  for 
use  ;  or  else  it  is  poured  into  buckets  and  vessels  to  be 
used  as  it  is  wanted.  The  former  method  has  in  the 
end  produced  to  us  the  scholastical  divinity ;  whereby 
divinity  has  been  reduced  into  an  art,  as  into  a  cistern, 
and  the  streams  of  doctrines  and  positions  have  been 
derived  and  conveyed  from  thence  to  water  every  part. 
But  in  the  free  way  of  interpreting  Scripture,  there 
occur  two  excesses.  The  one  presupposes  such  perfec- 
tion in  Scripture,  that  all  philosophy  likewise  should 
be  derived  from  its  sources  ;  as  if  all  other  philosophy 
were  something  profane  and  heathen.  This  distemper 
has  principally  grown  up  in  the  school  of  Paracelsus 
and  some  others ;  but  the  beginnings  thereof  came 
from  the  Rabbis  and  Cabalists.  But  these  men  do  not 
gain  their  object ;  and  instead  of  giving  honour  to 
the  Scriptures  as  they  suppose,  they  rather  embase 
and  pollute  them.  For  to  seek  the  materiate  heaven 
and  earth  in  the  word  of  God,  (whereof  it  is  said, 

"  Heaven   and  earth  shall   pass  away,   but  my  word 
VOL.  ix.  23 


354          TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  AUGMENTIS." 

shall  not  pass  away"1),  is  rashly  to  seek  for  tempora- 
ry things  amongst  eternal ;  and  as  to  seek  divinity  in 
philosophy  is  to  seek  the  living  among  the  dead,  so  to 
seek  philosophy  in  divinity  is  to  seek  the  dead  among 
the  living.  The  other  method  of  interpretation  which 
I  set  down  as  an  excess,  appears  at  the  first  glance 
sober  and  modest,  yet  in  reality  it  both  dishonours  the 
Scriptures  themselves,  and  is  very  injurious  to  the 
Church.  This  is,  (in  a  word,)  when  the  divinely- 
inspired  Scriptures  are  explained  in  the  same  way  as 
human  writings.  But  we  ought  to  remember  that 
there  are  two  things  which  are  known  to  God  the  au- 
thor of  the  Scriptures,  but  unknown  to  man ;  namely, 
the  secrets  of  the  heart,  and  the  successions  of  time. 
And  therefore  as  the  dictates  of  Scripture  are  written 
to  the  hearts  of  men,  and  comprehend  the  vicissitudes 
of  all  ages ;  with  an  eternal  and  certain  foreknowledge 
of  all  heresies,  contradictions,  and  differing  and  chang- 
ing estates  of  the  Church,  as  well  in  general  as  of  the 
individual  elect,  they  are  not  to  be  interpreted  only  ac- 
cording to  the  latitude  and  obvious  sense  of  the  place  ; 
or  with  respect  to  the  occasion  whereon  the  words  were 
uttered  ;  or  in  precise  context  with  the  words  before  or 
after  ;  or  in  contemplation  of  the  principal  scope  of  the 
passage ;  but  we  must  consider  them  to  have  in  them- 
selves, not  only  totally  or  collectively,  but  distributively 
also  in  clauses  and  words,  infinite  springs  and  streams 
of  doctrines,  to  water  every  part  of  the  Church  and  the 
souls  of  the  faithful.  For  it  has  been  well  observed  that 
the  answers  of  our  Saviour  to  many  of  the  questions 
which  were  propounded  to  Him  do  not  appear  to  the 
point,  but  as  it  were  impertinent  thereto.  The  reason 
l  St.  Mark,  xiii.  31. 


THE  NINTH  BOOK.  355 

whereof  is  twofold ;  the  one,  that  knowing  the  thoughts 
of  his  questioners  not  as  we  men  do  by  their  words,  but 
immediately  and  of  himself,  he  answered  their  thoughts 
and  not  their  words  ;  the  other,  that  He  did  not  speak 
only  to  the  persons  then  present,  but  to  us  also  now 
living,  and  to  men  of  every  age  and  nation  to  whom 
the  Gospel  was  to  be  preached.  And  this  also  holds 
good  in  other  passages  of  Scripture. 

Having  made  then  these  prefatory  remarks,  I  come 
to  that  treatise  which  I  pronounce  deficient.  There 
are  found  indeed  among  theological  writings  too  many 
books  of  controversies,  a  great  mass  of  that  theology 
which  I  have  tenned  Positive,  common  places,  special 
tracts,  cases  of  conscience,  sermons  and  homilies,  and 
many  prolix  commentaries  upon  the  Scriptures.  But 
what  we  want  is  a  concise,  sound,  and  judicious  collec- 
tion of  annotations  and  observations  on  particular  texts 
of  Scripture  ;  neither  dilated  into  common  places,  nor 
chasing  after  controversies,  nor  reduced  into  method  of 
art,  but  entirely  unconnected  and  natural.  It  is  indeed 
a  thing  sometimes  found  in  the  more  learned  sermons, 
which  for  the  most  part  do  not  last ;  but  not  yet  in- 
troduced into  books,  which  may  be  handed  down  to 
posterity.  But  certainly,  as  wines  which  flow  gently 
from  the  first  treading  of  the  grape  are  sweeter  than 
those  which  are  squeezed  out  by  the  wine-press  ;  be- 
cause these  last  have  some  taste  of  the  stones  and  skin 
of  the  grape ;  so  those  doctrines  are  very  sweet  and 
healthy,  which  flow  from  a  gentle  pressure  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  are  not  wrested  to  controversies  or 
common  places.  Such  a  treatise  then  I  will  denomi- 
nate the  Emanations  of  the  Scriptures. 


356         TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  DE  ADGMENTIS." 

Now  therefore  have  I  made  as  it  were  a  small  globe 
of  the  intellectual  world,  as  faithfully  as  I  could  ;  with 
a  note  and  description  of  those  parts  which  I  find  ei- 
ther not  constantly  occupied,  or  not  well  cultivated  by 
the  labour  and  industry  of  man.  Wherein,  if  I  have 
in  any  point  receded  from  the  opinion  of  the  ancients, 
let  it  be  understood  that  I  have  done  so  not  from  a 
desire  of  innovation  or  mere  change,  but  of  change 
for  the  better.  For  I  could  not  be  true  and  constant 
to  myself  or  the  argument  I  handle,  if  I  had  not  de- 
termined to  add  as  much  as  I  could  to  the  inventions 
of  others  ;  being  however  no  less  willing  that  my  own 
inventions  should  be  surpassed  by  posterity.  But  how 
fair  I  am  in  this  matter  may  appear  from  this  ;  that  I 
have  propounded  my  opinions  everywhere  naked  and 
unarmed,  without  seeking  to  prejudice  the  liberty  of 
men's  judgments  by  disputes  and  confutations.  For  in 
anything  which  is  well  set  down,  I  am  in  good  hope 
that  if  the  first  reading  move  a  scruple  or  objection, 
the  second  reading  will  of  itself  make  an  answer.  And 
in  those  things  wherein  it  has  been  my  lot  to  err,  I  am 
sure  I  have  not  prejudiced  the  truth  by  litigious  argu- 
ments; which  commonly  have  this  effect,  that  they 
add  authority  to  error,  and  diminish  the  authority  of 
that  which  is  well  invented  ;  for  question  is  an  honour 
to  falsehood,  but  it  is  a  repulse  to  honour.  Meanwhile 
[  am  reminded  of  the  sarcastic  reply  of  Themistocles 
to  the  ambassador,  who  coming  from  a  small  town 
used  great  words,  "  Friend,  (said  he)  your  words  re- 
quire a  city."  l  And  certainly  it  may  be  objected  to 
me  with  truth,  that  my  words  require  an  age  ;  a  whole 
age  perhaps  to  prove  them,  and  many  ages  to  perfect 

1  Lysander,  not  Themistocles.     Cf.  Plut.  Lac.  Apopthegmata. 


THE  NINTH  BOOK.  357 

them.  But  yet  as  even  the  greatest  things  are  owing 
to  their  beginnings,  it  will  be  enough  for  me  to  have 
sown  a  seed  for  posterity  and  the  Immortal  God ; 
whose  Majesty  I  humbly  implore  through  His  Son  and 
our  Saviour  that  He  will  vouchsafe  favourably  to  ac- 
cept these  and  the  like  offerings  of  the  human  intel- 
lect, seasoned  with  religion  as  with  salt,  and  sacrificed 
to  His  Glory. 


THE  END* 


THE 

NEW  WORLD  OF  SCIENCES, 

OB 

DESIDERATA. 


BOOK  II. 

The  Errors  of  Nature,  or  the  History  of  Prcetergenera- 

tions. 

The  Bonds  of  Nature,  or  Mechanical  History. 
Inductive  History,  or  Natural  History,  properly  arranged 

for  a  Foundation  of  Philosophy. 
The  Eye  of  Polyphemus,  or  the  History  of  Learning. 
The  History  of  Prophecy. 
The  Philosophy  of  the  Ancient  Fables. 

BOOK   III. 

Primary  Philosophy,  or  a  Treatise  of  the  Common  Ax- 
ioms of  the  Sciences. 

Living  Astronomy. 

Sound  Astrology. 

A  Continuation  of  Natural  Problems. 

The  Opinions  of  Ancient  Philosophers. 

The  Part  of  Metaphysic  which  relates  to  the  Forms  of 
Things. 

Natural  Magic,  or  the  Deduction  of  Forms  to  Works. 


360  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

An  Inventory  of  Human  Possessions. 

A  Catalogue  of  Things  of  Multifarious  Use. 


BOOK  IV. 

The  Triumphs  of  Man,  or,  A  Treatise  of  the  Ultimate 

Perfections  of  Human  Nature. 
The  Physiognomy  of  the  Body  in  Motion. 
Medical  Reports. 
Comparative  Anatomy. 

On  the  Treatment  of  Diseases  pronounced  Incurable. 
On  the  Means  for  rendering  Death  easy  to  the  Body. 
On  Authentic  Medicines. 
An  Imitation  of  Natural  Hot  Springs. 
The  Physician's  Clue. 
On  the  Prolongation  of  Life. 
On  the  Substance  of  the  Sensible  Soul. 
On  the  Efforts  of  the  Spirit  in  Voluntary  Motion. 
On  the  Difference  between  Sense  and  Perception. 
The  Root  of  Perspective,  or,  A  Treatise  of  the  Form  of 

Light. 

BOOK  V. 

The  Hunt  of  Pan,  or  Learned  Experience. 

The  Novum  Organum,  or  New  Instrument  of  Logic. 

Particular  Topics,  or  Heads  of  Inquiry. 

Confutations  of  Sophisms  and  Idols. 

On  the  Analogy  of  Demonstrations. 

BOOK  VI. 

On  the  Notes  of  Ttdngs. 
A  Philosophical  Grrammar. 


"NOVUS  ORBIS  SCIENTIARUM."  361 

The  Tradition  of  the  Lamp,  or  the  Method  of  Delivery 

to  Posterity. 

On  Prudence  in  Private  Discourse. 
The  Colours  of  Apparent  G-ood  and  Evil,  loth  Simple 

and  Comparative. 
The  Antitheta  of  Things. 
The  Lesser  Formula  of  Speech. 

BOOK  VII. 

Serious  Satire,  or  the  Inner  Natures  of  Things. 
The  Georgics  of  the  Mind,  or  the  Culture  of  Morals. 

BOOK  VIII. 

The  Secretary  for  the  Affairs  of  Life,  or,  On  Scattered 
Occasions. 

The  Carpenter  of  Fortune,  or,  On  Advancement  in 
Life. 

The  Statesman  in  Armour,  or,  On  the  Means  of  Ex- 
tending an  Empire. 

The  Idea  of  Universal  Justice,  or,  On  the  Fountains  of 
Equity. 

BOOK  IX. 

Sopliron,  or,  On  the  Legitimate  Use  of  Human  Reason 

in  Divinity. 
Irenaeus,  or,  On  the  Degrees  of  Unity  in  the  Kingdom 

of  G-od. 
Celestial  Vessels,  or  Emanations  of  the  Scriptures. 


NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL 
HISTORY 

FOE  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  PHILOSOPHY : 

OB 

PHENOMENA  OF  THE  UNIVERSE: 

BEING  THE  THIRD  PART  OF  THE   INSTAURATIO  MAGNA. 

BY 

FRANCIS 

BARON    OF   VERULAM, 

AND   VISCOUNT   ST.   ALBAN8. 


TO  THE  MOST  ILLTJSTEIOUS  AND  EXCELLENT 

PRINCE  CHARLES, 

SON  AND  HEIR  OF  HIS  MOST  SERENE  MAJESTY,  KING  JAMES. 


Most  Illustrious  and  Excellent  Prince, 

THE  first  fruits  of  my  Natural  History  I  most 
humbly  offer  to  your  Highness  ;  a  thing  like  a  grain 
of  mustard-seed,  very  small  in  itself,  yet  a  pledge  of 
those  things  which  by  the  grace  of  God  will  come 
hereafter.  For  I  have  bound  myself  as  by  a  vow  every 
month  that  the  goodness  of  God  (whose  glory  is  sung 
as  in  a  new  song)  shall  add  to  my  life,  to  complete  and 
set  forth  one  or  more  parts  of  it,  according  as  they  be 
more  or  less  difficult  or  extensive.  It  may  be  also  that 
others  will  be  stirred  by  my  example  to  a  like  indus- 
try ;  especially  when  they  shall  fully  understand  what 
it  is  that  we  are  about.  For  a  sound  and  well-ordered 
Natural  History  is  the  key  of  all  knowledge  and  opera- 
tion. That  God  may  long  preserve  your  Highness  in 
His  keeping  is  the  prayer  of 

Your  Majesty's  humble  and  devoted  Servant, 

FR.  ST.  ALBAN. 


TITLES  OF  THE   HISTORIES  AND   INQUIRIES 
DESIGNED  FOR  THE  FIRST  SIX  MONTHS. 


History  of  the  Winds. 

History  of  Dense  and  Rare,  and  of  the  Contraction  and 

Expansion  of  Matter  in  Space. 
History  of  Heavy  and  Light. 

History  of  the  Sympathy  and  Antipathy  of  Things. 
History  of  Sulphur,  Mercury,  and  Salt. 
History  of  Life  and  Death. 


THE  NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL  HISTORY 
FOR  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  PHILOSOPHY: 

OB 

PHENOMENA  OF  THE  UNIVERSE : 

WHICH  IS   THE   THIRD   PART  OF  THE   INSTAURATIO   MAGKA. 


MEN  are  to  be  admonished,  nay  urged  and  entreated 
as  they  value  their  fortunes,  to  be  lowly  of  mind  and 
search  for  knowledge  in  the  greater  world,  and  to 
throw  aside  all  thought  of  philosophy,  or  at  least  to 
expect  but  little  and  poor  fruit  from  it,  until  an  ap- 
proved and  careful  Natural  and  Experimental  History 
be  prepared  and  constructed.  For  to  what  purpose 
are  these  brain-creations  and  idle  displays  of  power? 
In  ancient  times  there  were  philosophical  doctrines  in 
plenty  ;  doctrines  of  Pythagoras,  Philolaus,  Xenoph- 
anes,  Heraclitus,  Empedocles,  Parmenides,  Anaxag- 
oras,  Leucippus,  Democritus,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Zeno, 
and  others.  All  these  invented  systems  of  the  uni- 
verse, each  according  to  his  own  fancy,  like  so  many 
arguments  of  plays ;  and  those  their  inventions  they 
recited  and  published ;  whereof  some  wrere  more  ele- 
gant and  probable,  others  harsh  and  unlikely.  Nor 
in  our  age,  though  by  reason  of  the  institutions  of 
schools  and  colleges  wits  are  more  restrained,  has  the 

VOL.  ix.  24 


370  TRANSLATION    OF  THE  "  HISTORIA 

practice  entirely  ceased ;  for  Patricias,  Telesius,  Bru- 
nus,  Severinus  the  Dane,  Gilbert  the  Englishman,  and 
Campanella  have  come  upon  the  stage  with  fresh  sto- 
ries, neither  honoured  by  approbation  nor  elegant  in 
argument.  Are  we  then  to  wonder  at  this,  as  if  there 
would  not  be  innumerable  sects  and  opinions  of  this 
kind  in  all  ages  ?  There  is  not  and  never  will  be  an 
end  or  limit  to  this ;  one  catches  at  one  thing,  another 
at  another ;  each  has  his  favourite  fancy ;  pure  and 
open  light  there  is  none ;  every  one  philosophises  out 
of  the  cells  of  his  own  imagination,  as  out  of  Plato's 
cave ;  the  higher  wits  with  more  acuteness  and  felici- 
ty, the  duller,  less  happily  but  with  equal  pertinacity. 
And  now  of  late  by  the  regulation  of  some  learned  and 
(as  things  now  are)  excellent  men  (the  former  variety 
and  licence  having  I  suppose  become  wearisome),  the 
sciences  are  confined  to  certain  and  prescribed  authors, 
and  thus  restrained  are  imposed  upon  the  old  and  in- 
stilled into  the  young ;  so  that  now  (to  use  the  sarcasm 
of  Cicero  concerning  Caesar's  year),1  the  constellation 
of  Lyra  rises  by  edict,  and  authority  is  taken  for  truth, 
not  truth  for  authority.  Which  kind  of  institution  and 
discipline  is  excellent  for  present  use,  but  precludes 
all  prospect  of  improvement.  For  we  copy  the  sin  of 
our  first  parents  while  we  suffer  for  it.  They  wished 
to  be  like  God,  but  then*  posterity  wish  to  be  even 
greater.  For  we  create  worlds,  we  direct  and  domi- 
neer over  nature,  we  will  have  it  that  all  tilings  are  as 
in  our  folly  we  think  they  should  be,  not  as  seems  fit- 
test to  the  Divine  wisdom,  or  as  they  are  found  to  be 
in  fact ;  and  I  know  not  whether  we  more  distort  the 
facts  of  nature  or  our  own  wits ;  but  we  clearly  im- 

l  Plut.  in  Jul.  Cues.  p.  735. 


NATURALIS  ET  EXPERIMENT ALIS."  371 

press  the  stamp  of  our  own  image  on  the  creatures 
and  works  of  God,  instead  of  carefully  examining  and 
recognising  in  them  the  stamp  of  the  Creator  himself. 
Wherefore  our  dominion  over  creatures  is  a  second 
time  forfeited,  not  undeservedly ;  and  whereas  after 
the  fall  of  man  some  power  over  the  resistance  of 
creatures  was  still  left  to  him  —  the  power  of  subdu- 
ing and  managing  them  by  true  and  solid  arts  —  yet 
this  too  through  our  insolence,  and  because  we  desire 
to  be  like  God  and  to  follow  the  dictates  of  our  own 
reason,  we  in  great  part  lose.  If  therefore  there  be 
any  humility  towards  the  Creator,  any  reverence  for 
or  disposition  to  magnify  His  works,  any  charity  for 
man  and  anxiety  to  relieve  his  sorrows  and  necessities, 
any  love  of  truth  in  nature,  any  hatred  of  darkness, 
any  desire  for  the  purification  of  the  understanding, 
we  must  entreat  men  again  and  again  to  discard,  or 
at  least  set  apart  for  a  while,  these  volatile  and  pre- 
posterous philosophies,  which  have  preferred  theses  to 
hypotheses,  led  experience  captive,  and  triumphed  over 
the  works  of  God  ;  and  to  approach  with  humility  and 
veneration  to  unroll  the  volume  of  Creation,  to  linger 

O 

and  meditate  therein,  and  with  minds  washed  clean 
from  opinions  to  study  it  in  purity  and  integrity.  For 
this  is  that  sound  and  language  which  went  forth  into 
all  lands,1  and  did  not  incur  the  confusion  of  Babel ; 
this  should  men  study  to  be  perfect  in,  and  becoming 
again  as  little  children  condescend  to  take  the  alpha- 
bet of  it  into  their  hands,  and  spare  no  pains  to  search 
and  unravel  the  interpretation  thereof,  but  pursue  it 
strenuously  and  persevere  even  unto  death. 

Having  therefore  in  my  Instauration  placed  the  Nat- 

1  Psalm  ix.  4. 


372  TRANSLATION  OF  THE  tt  HISTORIA 

ural  Histoiy  —  such  a  Natural  History  as  may  serve 
my  purpose  —  in  the  third  part  of  the  work,  I  have 
thought  it  right  to  make  some  anticipation  thereof, 
and  to  enter  upon  it  at  once.  For  although  not  a  few 
things,  and  those  among  the  most  important,  still  re- 
main to  be  completed  in  my  Organum,  yet  my  design 
is  rather  to  advance  the  universal  work  of  Instauration 
in  many  things,  than  to  perfect  it  in  a  few ;  ever  ear- 
nestly desiring,  with  such  a  passion  as  we  believe  God 
alone  inspires,  that  this  which  has  been  hitherto  unat- 
tempted  may  not  now  be  attempted  in  vain.  It  has 
occurred  to  me  likewise,  that  there  are  doubtless  many 
wits  scattered  over  Europe,  capacious,  open,  lofty,  sub- 
tle, solid,  and  constant.  What  if  one  of  them  were  to 
enter  into  the  plan  of  my  Organum  and  try  to  use  it  ? 
he  yet  knows  not  what  to  do,  nor  how  to  prepare  and 
address  himself  to  the  work  of  philosophy.  If  indeed 
'it  were  a  thing  that  could  be  accomplished  by  the  read- 
ing of  philosophical  books,  or  discussion,  or  meditation, 
he  might  be  equal  to  the  work,  whoever  he  be,  and 
discharge  it  well ;  but  if  I  refer  him  to  natural  history 
and  the  experiments  of  arts  (as  in  fact  I  do),  it  is  out 
of  his  line,  he  has  not  leisure  for  it,  he  cannot  afford 
the  expense.  Yet  I  would  not  ask  any  one  to  give  up 
what  he  has  until  he  can  exchange  it  for  something 
better.  But  when  a  true  and  copious  history  of  nature 
and  the  arts  shall  have  been  once  collected  and  di- 
gested, and  when  it  shall  have  been  set  forth  and, 
unfolded  before  men's  eyes,  then  will  there  be  good 
hope  that  those  great  wits  I  spoke  of  before,  such  as 
flourished  in  the  old  philosophers,  and  are  even  still 
often  to  be  found  —  wits  so  vigorous  that  out  of  a  mere 
plank  or  shell  (that  is  out  of  scanty  and  trifling  expe- 


NATURALIS  ET  EXPERIMENTALISE  373 

rience)  they  could  frame  certain  barks  of  philosophy, 
of  admirable  construction  as  far  as  the  work  is  con- 
cerned —  after  they  have  obtained  proper  material  and 
provision  will  raise  much  more  solid  structures  ;  and 
that  too  though  they  prefer  to  walk  on  in  the  old 
path,  and  not  by  the  way  of  my  Organum,  which  in 
my  estimation  if  not  the  only  is  at  least  the  best  course. 
It  comes  therefore  to  this ;  that  my  Organum,  even  if 
it  were  completed,  would  not  without  the  Natural  His- 
tory much  advance  the  Instauration  of  the  Sciences, 
whereas  the  Natural  History  without  the  Organum 
would  advance  it  not  a  little.  And  therefore,  I  have 
thought  it  better  and  wiser  by  all  means  and  above  all 
things  to  apply  myself  to  this  work.  May  God,  the 
Founder,  Preserver,  and  Renewer  of  the  universe,  in 
His  love  and  compassion  to  men,  protect  and  rule  this 
work  both  in  its  ascent  to  His  glory  and  in  its  descent 
to  the  good  of  man,  through  His  only  Son,  God  with 
us. 


THE  RULE  OF  THE  PRESENT  HISTORY 


ALTHOUGH  at  the  end  of  that  part  of  my  Orgaimm 
which  has  been  published  precepts  are  laid  down  con- 
cerning Natural  and  Experimental  History,  yet  I  think 
it  right  to  give  a  description  at  once  more  exact  and 
more  succinct  of  the  rule  and  structure  of  the  History 
I  am  now  entering  upon. 

To  the  Titles  contained  in  the  Catalogue  which  r<» 
late  to  -Concretes,  I  superadd  Titles  of  Abstract  Na- 
tures (which  I  have  mentioned  there  as  a  History 
reserved  for  myself).  Such  are  "  The  Different  Con- 
figurations of  Matter,"  or  "  Forms  of  the  First  Class," 
"  Simple  Motions,"  "  Sums  of  Motions,"  "  Measures 
of  Motions,"  and  some  other  things  ;  whereof  I  have 
constructed  a  new  Alphabet,  and  placed  it  at  the  end 
of  this  volume. 

The  titles  in  the  catalogue  (seeing  it  is  beyond  my 
power  to  handle  them  all)  I  have  not  taken  in  order, 
but  made  a  selection ;  choosing  those  whereof  the  in- 
quiry was  either  most  important  in  respect  of  use,  or 
most  convenient  on  account  of  the  abundance  of  ex- 
periments, or  most  difficult  and  noble  from  the  obscu- 
rity of  the  thing,  or  such  as  opened  the  widest  fields 
for  examples  by  reason  of  the  difference  between  the 
several  titles,  compared  one  with  the  other. 


376  THE  RULE  OF  THE  PRESENT   HISTORY. 

In  each  Title,  after  an  Introduction  or  Preface,  Par- 
ticular Topics  or  Articles  of  Inquiry  are  immediately 
proposed,  as  well  to  give  light  in  the  present,  as  to 
stimulate  further  inquiry.  For  questions  are  at  our 
command,  though  facts  are  not.  I  do  not  however  in 
the  history  itself  tie  myself  to  the  precise  order  of  the 
questions,  lest  what  was  meant  for  a  help  should  be- 
come a  hindrance. 

The  History  and  Experiments  occupy  the  first  place. 
These,  if  they  exhibit  an  enumeration  and  series  of 
particular  things,  are  collected  into  tables;  otherwise 
they  are  taken  separately. 

Since  history  and  experiments  very  often  fail  us,  es- 
pecially those  Experiments  of  Light  and  Crucial  In- 
stances by  which  the  understanding  may  determine  on 
the  true  causes  of  things,  I  give  Injunctions  touching 
new  experiments  contrived,  as  far  as  can  be  at  present 
foreseen,  to  meet  the  special  object  of  inquiry.  And 
such  Injunctions  form  a  kind  of  Designed  History. 
For  what  other  course  is  open  to  us  on  first  entering 
on  our  path? 

In  the  case  of  any  more  subtle  experiment  the 
method  which  I  have  employed  is  explained ;  for  there 
may  be  a  mistake,  and  it  may  stimulate  others  to  de- 
vise better  and  more  exact  methods. 

Admonitions  and  cautions  concerning  the  fallacies 
of  things,  and  the  errors  and  scruples  which  may  oc- 
cur in  inquiry  and  discovery,  are  interspersed ;  to  dis- 
pel and  as  it  were  exorcise  as  much  as  possible  all 
delusions  and  false  appearances. 

I  insert  my  own  observations  on  the  history  and  ex- 
periments, that  the  interpretation  of  nature  may  the 
more  advance. 


THE  RULE  OF  THE  PRESENT  HISTORY.  377 

Speculations,  and  what  may  be  called  rudiments  of 
interpretation  concerning  causes,  are  introduced  spar- 
ingly, and  rather  as  suggesting  what  the  cause  may  be 
than  defining  what  it  is. 

Such  Rules  or  imperfect  axioms  as  occur  to  us  in  the 
course  of  inquiry,  and  where  we  do  not  yet  pronounce, 
we  set  down  and  prescribe,  but  only  provisionally.  For 
they  are  useful,  if  not  altogether  true. 

Never  forgetful  likewise  of  the  good  of  man  (though 
the  light  itself  is  more  worthy  than  the  things  which  it 
reveals),  I  append  some  Reminders  concerning  Prac- 
tice for  the  attention  and  remembrance  of  men.  For 
such  and  so  unfortunate,  I  well  know,  is  the  insen- 
sibility of  mankind,  that  sometimes,  if  they  be  not 
warned,  they  will  pass  by  and  neglect  things  which 
lie  in  their  very  path. 

Works  and  Things  Impossible,  or  at  least  not  yet 
discovered,  are  propounded  according  as  they  fall  un- 
der the  several  titles.  And  along  with  them  those 
discoveries  of  which  man  is  already  possessed,  which 
are  nearest  and  most  akin  to  such  impossibles  ;  that 
men's  industry  may  be  excited  and  their  spirits  en- 
couraged. 

It  is  evident  from  what  has  been  said  that  the  pres- 
ent history  not  only  supplies  the  place  of  the  third  part 
of  the  Instauration ;  but  is  no  mean  preparation  for  the 
fourth  part,  by  reason  of  the  titles  from  the  Alphabet, 
and  the  Topics ;  and  for  the  sixth  part,  by  reason  of 
the  major  observations,  the  speculations,  and  the  pro- 
visional rules. 


THE 


HISTORY  OF  THE  WINDS: 

OK 

THE  FIRST  TITLE  IN  THE  NATURAL  AND  EXPERIMENTAL 
HISTORY, 

FOR  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  PHILOSOPHY: 
WHICH   IS   THE   THIRD   PART    OF   THE   IN8TAXTRATIO    MAGNA. 


HISTORY   OF   THE  WINDS. 


INTRODUCTION  OR  PREFACE. 

To  men  the  winds  are  as  wings.  For  by  them  men 
are  borne  and  fly,  not  indeed  through  the  air  but  over 
the  sea ;  a  vast  gate  of  commerce  is  opened,  and  the 
whole  world  is  rendered  accessible.  To  the  earth, 
which  is  the  seat  and  habitation  of  men,  they  serve 
for  brooms,  sweeping  and  cleansing  both  it  and  the  air 
itself.  Yet  they  damage  the  character  of  the  sea, 
which  would  otherwise  be  calm  and  harmless ;  and  in 
other  respects  they  are  productive  of  mischief.  With- 
out any  human  agency  they  cause  strong  and  violent 
motion ;  whence  they  are  as  hired  servants  to  drive 
ships  and  turn  mills,  and  may,  if  human  industry  fail 
not,  be  employed  for  many  other  purposes.  The  na- 
ture of  the  winds  is  generally  ranked  among  the  things 
mysterious  and  concealed ;  and  no  wonder,  when  the 
power  and  nature  of  the  air,  which  the  winds  attend 
and  serve  (as  represented  by  the  poets  in  the  relation 
of  JEolus  to  Juno),  is  entirely  unknown.  They  are 
not  primary  creatures,  nor  among  the  works  of  the  six 
days ;  as  neither  are  the  other  meteors  actually ;  but 
produced  according  to  the  order  of  creation. 


382  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 


PARTICULAR  TOPICS; 

OB 

Articles  of  Inquiry  concerning  the  Winds. 

1.  Describe  the  winds  according  to  the  method  ob- 

f  served  at  sea,  and  give  them  names  either 
ancient  or  modern;  but  let  them  be  con- 
stant and  invariable. 

Winds  are  either  General,  Periodical,  At- 
tendant, or  Free.  By  the  General  winds,  I 
mean  those  which  blow  always ;  by  the  Pe- 
riodical, I  mean  those  which  blow  at  certain 
times ;  by  the  Attendant,  those  which  blow 
more  frequently;  and  by  the  Free,  those 
which  blow  indifferently. 

2.  Are  there  any  general  winds  and  actual  motions 
General  winds.  of  fae  ^  ?     jf  ^^  things  be,  in  what  or- 
der of  motion,  and  in  what  places  do  they 
blow? 

3.  What  winds  are  annual,  or  periodical,  and  in 

what  countries  ?  Is  any  wind  so  precisely 
periodical  as  to  return  regularly  on  certain 
days  and  hours  like  the  tide  of  the  sea  ? 

4.  What  winds  are  attendant  and  haunters  of  par 

ticular  regions  ?  at  what  times  do  they  blow 
in  those  regions?  what  winds  blow  in  the 
spring,  summer,  autumn,  and  winter?  which 
are  equinoctial,  and  which  solstitial  winds  ? 
which  are  morning,  which  noonday,  which 
evening,  and  which  night  winds  ? 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  38S 

4 

5.  What  is  the  nature  of  sea  winds,  and  what  that 

of  land  winds  ?  And  here  carefully  mark 
the  differences  between  sea  and  land  winds, 
as  well  those  which  blow  on  as  those  which 
blow  from  the  sea  and  land. 

6.  Are  there  not  winds  blowing  from  every  quarter 
Free  winds.      Of  the  heaven  ? 

WINDS  do  not  vary  much  more  in  the  quarters  they 
blow  from  than  in  their  qualities.  Some  are  strong, 
others  gentle  ;  some  constant,  others  variable ;  some 
hot,  others  cold;  some  moist  and  relaxing,  others  dry 
and  binding ;  some  collect  clouds  and  are  rainy  or 
stormy,  others  disperse  them  and  are  fair. 

7.  Inquire  and  report  to  which  of  the  forementioned 
o-uaiitS'of  *       kinds  each  wind  belongs,  and  how  they  vary 
winds.  according  to  countries  and  places. 

THE  local  origins  of  winds  are  three  in  number;  for 
they  are  either  sent  down  from  above,  or  they  spring 
out  of  the  earth,  or  they  are  collected  in  the  body  of 
the  air. 

8.  Inquire  of  the  winds  according  to  these  three 

origins ;  namely,  which  of  them  are  sent 
down  from  what  is  termed  the  middle  re- 
gion of  the  air ;  which  breathe  forth  from 
the  hollows  of  the  earth,  whether  they 
rush  out  in  a  body,  or  exhale  imperceptibly 
and  by  degrees,  and  then  collect  as  streams 
into  a  river ;  lastly,  which  of  them  are  gen- 
erated indiscriminately  by  the  swelling  or 
expansion  of  the  contiguous  air  ? 


384  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

The  generations  of  the  winds  are  not  only  original, 
but  also  accidental ;  that  is,  arising  from  the  compres- 
sions, percussions,  and  repercussions  of  the  air. 

9.  Inquire  into  these  accidental  generations  of  the 
GeS£ns  of  winds-    Properly  they  are  not  generations, 
winds  for  thev  rather  increase  and  strengthen  the 

winds  than  create  and  excite  them. 

So  much  then  for  the  community  of  winds.  But 
there  are  some  extraordinary  and  prodigious  winds, 
as  fiery  winds,  whirlwinds,  and  hurricanes.  These 
prevail  on  earth.  But  there  are  likewise  subter- 
ranean winds,  whereof  some  are  vaporous  and  mer- 
curial ;  as  are  felt  in  mines ;  others  are  sulphureous ; 
and  find  vent  in  earthquakes,  or  burst  out  from  vol- 
canoes. 

10.  Inquire  into  these  extraordinary  and  prodigious 

wln'dTt'n'd17   wmds,   and  into  all  the  wonderful  proper- 
sudden  Gusts.  ties  0£  wjncjs. 

From  the  kinds  of  winds  let  the  inquiry  pass  on  to 
the  things  which  help  to  produce  them  (I  do  not  say 
efficients  of  them,  for  that  is  more  than  I  mean  ;  nor 
concomitants,  for  that  is  less,  but  confacients,  things 
which  help  to  make  them)  ;  and  those  which  are  sup- 
posed to  excite  or  calm  them. 

11.  Of  astrological  considerations  touching  the  winds 
The  Things       inquire  sparingly,  and  take  no  heed  of  ac- 

Contributmg  to         *  *  »  J ' 

Winds,  which    curate  horoscopes  of  the  heaven  ;    only  do 

excite  or  ap-  * 

pease  them.  not  neglect  the  more  evident  observations 
of  the  winds  increasing  at  the  rising  of  cer- 
tain stars,  at  the  eclipses  of  luminaries,  or 
at  the*  conjunctions  of  planets ;  and  how 


"HISTOKIA  VENTORUM."  385 

far  they  depend  on  the  paths  of  the  sun 
or  inoon. 

12.  What  do  meteors  of  different  kinds  contribute 

to  the  winds  ?  What  do  earthquakes,  show- 
ers, and  the  meeting  of  the  winds  together, 
contribute?  For  these  things  are  linked 
together,  and  depend  one  upon  the  other. 

13.  What  do  different  vapours  and  exhalations  con- 

tribute ?  which  of  them  is  most  productive 
of  winds,  and  how  far  is  the  nature  of 
winds  influenced  by  their  matter  ? 

14.  What  do  earthly  things  and  things  which  take 

place  on  earth  contribute  to  the  winds? 
What  do  mountains  and  the  melting  of 
snow  upon  them,  or  vast  icebergs  which  float 
and  are  borne  about  in  the  sea  everywhere, 
contribute  ?  What  do  the  differences  of 
soil  or  land  (if  in  large  tracts),  as  marshes, 
sands,  woods,  plains,  contribute  ?  What  the 
work  done  by  the  hand  of  man,  as  the  burn- 
ings of  heath  and  the  like  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  land ;  the  burnings  of  corn  and  vil- 
lages in  wars  ;  the  draining  of  marshes  ;  the 
perpetual  discharges  of  cannon ;  and  the 
ringing  of  bells  in  great  cities  ?  Such  mat- 
ters indeed  appear  trivial,  but  yet  they  have 
some  influence. 

15.  Inquire  into  all  the  methods  of  exciting  or  calm- 

ing the  winds,  but  less  fully  into  such  as 
are  fabulous  or  superstitious. 

From  this  let  the  inquiry  pass  on  to  the  limits  of 
the  winds  in  point  of  height,  extension,  and  duration. 
VOL.  ix.  25 


386  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 

16.  Inquire  carefully  into  the  height  or  elevation  of 
""winds"  °f    *ne  winds,  and  if  there  be  any  mountain 

tops  where  they  do  not  blow ;  or  if  the 
clouds  sometimes  appear  motionless  and  sta- 
tionary, at  the  same  time  that  the  winds  are 
blowing  strong  on  the  earth. 

17.  Inquire  carefully  touching  the  space  which  winds 

have  been  known  to  occupy  at  the  same 
time,  and  what  are  the  boundaries  of  them. 
For  instance,  if  a  south  wind  is  blowing  in 
such  a  place,  will  a  north  wind  be  blowing 
at  the  same  time  ten  miles  distant  from 
thence  ?  On  th.e  other  hand,  in  how  small 
a  compass  can  winds  be  confined,  so  that 
(as  is  the  case  in  some  whirlwinds)  they  ap- 
pear to  run  in  channels. 

18.  Inquire  touching  the  greatest,  mean,  or  shortest 

time,  that  the  winds  are  wont  to  continue 
before  they  slacken  and  as  it  were  expire  ; 
what  again  is  their  usual  manner  of  rising 
and  commencing,  what  of  falling  and  ceas- 
ing ?  whether  it  be  sudden,  or  gradual,  or 
how? 

From  the  limits  of  the  winds  let  the  inquiry  pass  on 
to  their  successions,  either  among  themselves,  or  with 
respect  to  rain  and  showers.  For  as  they  perform  a 
dance,  it  would  be  pleasant  to  know  the  order  of  it. 

19.  Is  there  any  rule  or  any  observation  which  can 
lf  winSions  ^e  at  aU  relied  on  for  the  succession  of  the 

winds  with  one  another?  Is  it  in  conform- 
ity with  the  motion  of  the  sun  or  not  ?  If 
there  is  a  rule,  what  is  the  nature  of  it? 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  387 

20.  Inquire  into  the  succession  and  alternation  of 

the  winds  and  rain  ;  for  the  common  and 
familiar  idea  is  that  rain  calms  the  winds, 
and  winds  keep  off  and  disperse  the  rain. 

21.  Is  the  same  succession   of  the  winds  repeated 

after  a  certain  period  of  years  ?  if  so,  what 
is  that  period  ? 

From  the  successions  of  the  winds  let  the  inquiry- 
pass  on  to  their  motions.  These  motions  involve  seven 
inquiries ;  whereof  three  are  contained  in  the  former 
articles,  the  other  four  remain  untouched.  For  I  have 
already  inquired  of  the  motion  of  the  winds  as  dis- 
tributed according  to  the  different  points  of  the  com- 
pass ;  of  the  three  lines  of  motion,  upwards,  down- 
wards, and  sideways  ;  and  of  the  accidental  motion 
of  compressions.  There  remain  therefore,  the  motion 
of  progression,  the  motion  of  undulation,  the  motion  of 
conflict,  and  the  motion  in  organs  and  machines  of 
human  invention. 

22.  Since  progression  always  begins  from  a  certain 
The  Different     point,  inquire  as  diligently  as  possible  into 

Motions  of  *  *.    ,        o  •   . 

mnds.  the  place  of  the  first  rising,  and  as  it  were 

the  fountains  of  the  winds.  For  winds  ap- 
pear to  resemble  Fame  ;  which  though  they 
penetrate  and  bluster  everywhere,  yet  hide 
their  heads  in  the  clouds.1  Inquire  likewise 
into  the  progression  itself.  For  instance,  if 
a  strong  north  wind  blew  on  such  a  day  or 
such  an  hour  at  York,  did  it  blow  two  days 
afterwards  in  London? 
i  Virg.  jEn.  iv.  173. 


888  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

23.  Omit  not  to  inquire  into  the  undulation  of  the 

winds.  By  undulation  I  mean  that  motion 
by  which  the  wind,  like  the  waves  of  the 
sea,  is  increased  or  slackened  for  short  in- 
tervals ;  the  alternations  whereof  are  best 
perceived  by  listening  in  buildings.  But  the 
differences  between  the  undulations  or  fur- 
rowings  of  air  and  water  should  be  the  more 
carefully  marked,  because  in  the  air  and 
winds  there  is  no  motion  of  gravity,  which 
is  a  great  part  of  the  undulation  in  water. 

24.  Inquire  carefully  into  the  conflict  and  concur- 

rence of  winds  blowing  at  the  same  time. 
First  whether  many  original  winds  (not  re- 
verberating) can  blow  at  the  same  time  ? 
And  if  so,  what  channels  they  form  in  their 
motion,  and  what  condensations  and  altera- 
tions they  engender  in  the  body  of  the  air. 

25.  Do  some  winds  blow  above  at  the  same  time 

that  others  blow  below?  For  some  have 
observed  that  the  clouds  sometimes  move  in 
a  contrary  direction  to  the  weathercock ; 
and  likewise  are  sometimes  driven  by  a 
strong  breeze,  when  it  is  quite  calm  below. 

26.  Describe  very  carefully  and  particularly  the  mo- 

tion of  the  winds  in  the  sailing  of  ships. 

27.  Describe  the  motion  of  the  winds  in  the  sails  of 

windmills,  in  the  flight  of  hawks  and  birds, 
and  even  in  playthings  and  common  mat- 
ters, as  in  the  waving  of  banners,  the  flying 
of  kites,  and  games  which  depend  on  the 
wind. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  389 

FROM  the  motions  of  the  winds  let  the  inquiry  pass 
on  to  their  force  and  powers. 

28.  What  are  the  powers  and  actions  of  the  winds 
1116 winds*  °f  on  tides  and  currents,  as  to  keeping  them 

back,  driving  them  on,  and  causing  them  to 
overflow  ? 

29.  What  are  their  powers  over  plants  and  insects, 

with  regard  to  bringing  locusts,  caterpillars, 
blights,  and  mildews  ? 

30.  What  have  they  to  do  with  purifying  and  infect- 

ing the  air,  with  regard  to  pestilences,  epi- 
demics, and  affections  of  animals  ? 

31.  What  is  their  power  of   conveying   what   are 

termed  spiritual  species,  that  is,  sounds,  ra- 
diations, and  the  like  ? 

From  the  powers  of  winds  let  the  inquiry  pass  on  to 
their  prognostics,  not  only  on  account  of  the  use  of 
predictions,  but  because  they  lead  the  way  to  causes. 
For  prognostics  show  either  the  preparations  of  things 
before  they  are  produced  into  action,  or  their  com- 
mencements before  they  are  perceptible  to  the  sense. 

32.  Diligently  collect  all  kinds  of  prognostics  of  winds 
^^wtadu8  °f    (except  those  of  an  astrological  nature,  the 

proper  inquiry  whereof  has  already  been 
marked  out),  whether  they  be  sought  from 
the  sky,  waters,  the  instinct  of  animals,  or 
any  other  source. 

LASTLY,  conclude  the  inquiry  by  investigating  the 
imitations  of  winds  in  things  natural  or  artificial. 

33.  Inquire  into  the  imitations  of  winds  in  natural 

bodies,  as  flatulency  in   the  bodies  of  ani- 


390  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

mals,  explosions   in    the   receivers  of  stills, 
and  the  like. 

Inquire  into  draughts  and  artificial  winds,  as  bel- 
lows, ventilators  in  rooms,  &c. 

Such  then  are  the  articles  of  inquiry.  Some  of  them, 
I  am  well  aware,  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  our  present 
experience  to  answer.  But  as  in  civil  trials  a  good 
lawyer  knows  how  to  put  questions  suitable  to  the  case, 
but  knows  not  what  the  witnesses  can  answer  ;  so  is  it 
with  us  in  Natural  History.  Let  posterity  look  to  the 
rest. 


THE  HISTORY. 

The  Names  of  Winds. 
with  reference       For  the  sake  of  clearness  and  to  assist  the 

to  the  1st  Arti- 
cle of  Inquiry,    memory,  we  give  a  new  set  of  names  to  the 

winds  according  to  their  order  and  degrees,  instead  of 
using  the  old  proper  names.  But  since  I  have  bor- 
rowed many  terms  (though  not  without  careful  sifting) 
from  the  opinions  of  the  ancients,  and  things  will  hardly 
be  recognized  except  under  the  ancient  names,  these 
likewise  are  annexed  to  the  winds.  Let  the  general 
division  of  the  winds  be  as  follows :  Cardinal  Winds, 
which  blow  from  the  cardinal  points  of  heaven  ;  Semi- 
cardinal,  which  blow  half  way  between  those  points ; 
and  Median,  which  blow  intermediate  between  these 
again.  And  of  these  Median  winds  let  those  be  called 
the  Greater  Medians  which  blow  half  way  between  the 
Cardinal  and  Semi -cardinal,  and  the  rest  the  Lesser 
Medians. 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM.' 


391 


The  particular  division  of  the  winds  is  shown  in  the 
following  table :  — 


GREATER  1  C  AR- 
MED. |  DINAL 

North  : 
anciently  called  Bo- 
North  and  by  East. 

East: 
anciently  called  Eurus 

East  and  by  South. 

South  : 
anciently  called  Auster 
or  Notus. 
South  and  by  West. 

West  : 

anciently  called  Z»ph- 

West  and  by  North. 

North-North-East  : 

anciently  called 
Aquilo. 

North-East  and  by 
North  : 

anciently  called  Meses. 

East-South-Ea?t  : 
anciently  called  Vul. 
turn  us. 
South-East  and  by 
East. 

South-South  West  : 

anciently  called  Libo- 

South-West  and  by 
South. 

West-North-West  : 

ancienjy  culled  Curuo. 

North-West  and  by 
West. 

GHKATKR  I  SKMI-  | 
MED.  1  CARD,  i 

North-East  : 
North-East  and  by 
East. 

South  East: 
South-East  and  by 
South. 

South-West  : 
anciently  called  Lit*. 

South-  West  and  by 
West. 

North  West  : 
North  West  and  by 
North: 

•cias. 

East-North-East  : 
anciently  called  Ca- 
cias. 
East  and  by  North. 

South-South  East  : 
anciently  called  Ft.a- 
nicias. 
South  and  by  East. 

West-South-  West  : 
anciently  called  Afri- 
cus. 
West  and  by  South. 

North-North  -West  : 
anciently  called  Cir- 
cias. 
North  and  by  West. 

There  are  also  other  ancient  names  for  winds,  as 
Apeliotes  the  East  wind,  Argestes  the  West-North- 
West,  Olympias  and  Scyron  the  North- West,  Helles- 
pontius  the  East-North-East,  and  lapyx  the  West-North- 
West  ;  but  I  do  not  dwell  upon  them.  Let  it  be  enough 
to  have  given  fixed  names  to  the  winds,  according  to 
the  order  and  division  of  the  quarters  of  the  heaven. 
In  the  interpretation  of  authors  I  place  no  great  con- 
fidence ;  for  they  are  themselves  of  but  little  weight. 

Free  Winds. 

»Fith  reference       1.    There   is    no   point   of    the    heaven 
Article  of  in-    whence  a  wind  may  not  blow.     Nay,  if  the 
heavens  were  divided  into  as  many  parts  as 
there  are  degrees  in  the  horizon,  winds  will  be  found 
at  some  times  or  places  blowing  from  each  of  them. 
2.  There  are  whole  countries  in  which  it  never  rains, 
or  at  all  events  very  seldom ;  but  there  are  no  coun- 
tries where  it  does  not  blow,  and  that  often. 


392  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 


General  Winds. 
with  reference       The  phenomena  with  respect  to  the  gen- 

to  the  2nd  1-1  p  i. 

Article  of  in-     eral  winds    are   tew    in   number;    and.   no 
wonder,  for  these   winds   principally  occur 
in   the   tropics,  regions   considered  fatal  by   the   an- 
cients. 

1.  Persons  sailing  in  the  open  sea  between  the  trop- 
ics are  aware  of  a  steady  and  continual  wind  (called 
by  the  sailors  Brize)  blowing  from  East  to  West.    This 
wind  is   so  strong,  that  partly  by  its   own  blast,  and 
partly  by  its  influence  on  the  current,  it  prevents  ves- 
sels sailing  to  Peru  from  returning  by  the  same  way.1 

2.  In  the  European  seas,  when  the  sky  is  calm  and 
clear,  and  no  particular  winds  are  stirring,  there  is  a 
gentle  breeze  from  the  East,  following  the  sun. 

3.  It  is  generally  observed  that  the  higher  clouds 
move  mostly  from  East  to  West ;  and  this  even  at  the 
same    time  that  there  is  a  calm  or  a  contrary  wind 
below.     If  this  is  not  always  the  case,  the  reason  may 
be  that  particular  winds  sometimes  blow  high  up,  which 
overpower  this  general  wind. 

Admonition.  If  there  be  any  such  general  wind  follow- 
ing the  motion  of  the  heaven,  it  is  not  strong  enough 
to  resist  particular  winds.  Such  a  wind  is  more  ob- 
servable in  the  tropics,  because  it  moves  there  in 
larger  circles  ;  and  also  in  the  higher  regions  of  the 
air  for  the  same  reason,  and  because  it  has  there  a 
free  course.  Wherefore  if  you  would  discover  it 
outside  the  tropics,  and  near  the  earth  (where  it  is 
very  gentle  and  inactive),  make  the  experiment  in 
the  open  air,  in  a  perfect  calm,  on  high  ground,  with 
i  Acosta,  Hist,  des  Indes,  iii.  4. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORDM."  393 

a  body  very  susceptible  of  motion,  and  towards  even- 
ing ;  because  at  that  time  the  particular  east  wind 
does  not  blow  so  much. 

injunction.  Observe  carefully  whether  the  weather- 
cocks and  vanes  on  the  tops  of  toAvers  and  steeples 
do  not  in  the  most  perfect  calms  point  steadily  to 
the  west. 

4.  It  is  certain  that  in  Europe  the  east  wind  is  sharp 
indirect  an<^  Drying,  the  west  wind  moist  and  genial, 
phenomena.      jg  noi"  this  Because  (assuming  that  the  air 

moves  from  east  to  west)  the  east  wind,  which  moves 
-in  the  same  direction,  must  rarifyand  dissipate  the  air; 
and  so  make  it  dry  and  biting ;  whereas  the  west  wind 
which  moves  in  a  contrary  direction  collects  and  con- 
denses the  air ;  which  thereby  becomes  less  keen,  and 
in  the  end  wet  ? 

5.  Consult  the  inquiry  into  the  motion  of  the  tides, 
as  to  whether  they  move  from  east  to  west.     For  if 
the  heaven  and  the   waters  which  are  the  extremes 
prefer  this  motion,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  air  which 
lies  between  them  will  likewise  partake  of  it. 

Admonition.  These  two  phenomena  last  mentioned 
are  termed  indirect,  because  they  exhibit  the  matter 
in  question  not  directly,  but  by  consequence  :  a  kind 
of  evidence  which  (in  the  absence  of  direct  phe- 
nomena) I  eagerly  receive. 

injunction.  That  this  Brize  blows  perceptibly  in 
the  tropics  is  a  certain  fact,  but  the  cause  of  it  is 
doubtful.  It  may  be  that  it  is  because  the  air 
moves  as  the  heavens  do ;  only  that  outside  the 
tropics  the  motion  is  almost  imperceptible  by  rea- 
son of  the  smaller  circles,  whereas  it  is  manifest 
within  them  where  the  circles  are  larger.  Or  it 


894  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

may  be  that  as  all  air  is  expanded  by  heat,  and 
can  no  longer  be  contained  in  the  same  space,  the 
contiguous  air  is  necessarily  impelled  by  the  ex- 
pansion, and  produces  this  brize  as  the  sun  ad- 
vances. But  within  the  tropics,  where  the  sun  has 
greater  power,  this  is  more  remarkable  ;  without 
them,  it  is  hardly  perceptible.  By  way  of  a  Cru- 
cial Instance  to  decide  the  point,  inquire  whether 
the  brize  blows  at  night  or  not.  For  the  rotation  of 
the  air  continues  by  night,  but  the  heat  of  the  sun 
does  not. 

6.  But  it  is  certain  that  this  brize  does  not  blow  in 
the  night,  but  that  it  blows  in  the  morning  and  even 
some   time  after  sunrise.     Nevertheless  this  does  not 
terminate   the  inquiry.     For  the  nocturnal  condensa- 
tion of  the  air,  especially  in  those  countries  where  the 
days  and  nights  are  not  more  equal  in  their  lengths 
than  they  are  different  in  their  degrees  of  heat  and 
cold,  may  weaken  and  disturb  this  natural  but  feeble 
motion  of  the  air. 

7.  If  the  air  participates  in  the  motion  of  the  heaven, 
it  follows,  not  only  that  the  east  wind  is  concurrent 
with  the  motion  of  the  air,  and  the  west  wind  is  op- 
posed thereto ;  but  also  that  the  north  wind  blows  as  it 
were  from  above  and  the  south  wind  as  it  were  from 
below  in  our  hemisphere,  where  the  north  pole  is  raised 
above  the   earth  and  the   south   depressed  below  it. 
And  this   has  ever    been   remarked  by  the  ancients, 
though   with  hesitation  and  obscurity  ;    but  it  agrees 
well   with    modern    experience;     because    this    brize 
(which  may  be  a  motion  of  the  air)  is  not  due  east, 
but  north-east. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  395 

Periodical  Winds. 
reference  to  ^s  m  ^6  m(luiry  touching  the  General 


men  have  been  afflicted  with  blind- 
Transition,  ness,  so  in  that  of  the  Periodical  winds,  they 
have  suffered  dizziness  and  confusion.  Of  the  former 
they  say  nothing,  of  the  latter  they  talk  vaguely  and 
incoherently.  But  this  is  the  more  pardonable,  be- 
cause the  thing  is  variable.  For  periodical  winds 
change  with  the  place,  and  the  same  do  not  blow  in 
Egypt,  Greece,  and  Italy. 

1.  That  there  are  periodical  winds  in  some  places 
the  application  of  the  name  declares,  as  well  as  that 
other  appellation  of  Etesian  or  Anniversary  winds. 

2.  It  has  been  set  down  by  the  ancients  as  one  of 
the  causes  of  the  inundation  of  the  Nile,  that  at  that 
time  of  the  year  the  Etesian  or  North  winds  are  prev- 
alent, which  prevent  the  river  from  running  into  the 
sea,  and  drive  it  back.1 

3.  There  are  currents  in  the  sea,  which  can  neither 
be  attributed  to  the  natural  motion  of  the  ocean,  nor 
to  a  descent  from  higher  ground,  nor  to  the  narrowness 
of  channels,  nor  to  promontories  jutting  out  into  the 
sea  ;   but  which  are  plainly  influenced  by  periodical 
winds. 

4.  Those  who  are  unwilling  to  admit  that  Columbus 
conceived  so  certain  and  fixed  an  opinion  of  the  West 
Indies  from  the  narrative  of  a  Spanish  pilot,  and  con- 
sider it  still  more  unlikely  that  he  derived  it  from  the 
obscure  vestiges  and  rumours  of  antiquity,  take  refuge 
in  this ;  that  from  periodical  winds  blowing  to  the  coast 
of  Portugal,  he  imagined  that  there  was  a  continent 

l  Herod,  ii.  20.,  and  Pliny,  v.  10. 


396  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

to  the  westward.  The  circumstance  is  doubtful  and 
not  very  probable,  since  the  winds  could  hardly  travel 
so  great  a  distance ;  but  in  the  meantime  it  is  a  great 
honour  to  this  inquiry,  if  the  discovery  of  the  new 
world  may  be  attributed  to  one  out  of  the  many  ax- 
ioms or  observations  that  it  contains. 

5.  Wherever  there  are  high  mountains  covered  with 
snow,  periodical  winds  blow  from  that  quarter  at  the 
time  of  the  melting  of  the  snows. 

6.  I  judge  also  that  from  large  marshes,  which  in 
winter  time  are  entirely  flooded,  there  blow  periodical 
winds  at  the  time   when  the  heat  of  the  sun   com- 
mences to  dry  them ;  but  of  this   I  have  no  certain 
information. 

7.  Wherever  there  is  a  plentiful  generation  of  va- 
pours, and  that  at  certain  times,  you  may  be  sure  that 
at  those  times  periodical  winds  will  arise  there. 

8.  If  periodical  winds   are   blowing  anywhere,  and 
there  be  no  cause  for  them  to  be  discovered  near  at 
hand,  you  may  know  that  such  periodical  winds  are 
strangers  and  come  from  a  distance. 

9.  It  has  been  remarked  that  periodical  winds   do 
not  blow  at  night,  but  get  up  the  third  hour  after  sun- 
rise.    They  appear  indeed  like  winds  tired  with  a  long 
journey,  so  as  to  be  scarce  able  to  break  through  the 
condensation  of  the  night  air,  but  after  sunrise  they 
are  roused  up  for  a  while  and  continue  on  their  course. 

10.  All  periodical  winds  (except  they  rise  near  at 
hand)  are  weak,  and  easily  overpowered  by  winds  that 
rise  suddenly. 

11.  There  are  many  periodical  winds  which  are  nei- 
ther perceived  nor  observed,  by  reason  of  their  weak- 
ness and  their  being  overpowered  by  the  free  winds. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  397 

In  the  winter  time  therefore,  when  the  free  winds  are 
most  prevalent,  they  are  scarce  perceptible  ;  but  in  the 
summer,  when  these  wandering  winds  are  less  frequent, 
they  are  more  apparent. 

12.  In  Europe  the  principal  periodical  winds  are, 
northerly  winds  from  the  solstice,  both  before  and  after 
the  rising  of  the  dog-star ;  west  winds  from  the  autum- 
nal equinox ;  and  east  winds  from  the  vernal  equinox  ; l 
for  the  winter  solstice  deserves  less  attention  by  rea- 
son of  the  frequent  changes  in  winter. 

13.  The  Ornithian  or  Bird-winds  (so  called  because 
they  bring  birds  from  cold  regions  beyond  the  sea  to 
more  sunny  climes)  have  nothing  to  do  with  periodi- 
cal winds ;  for  they  often  fail  in  point  of  time.     But 
whether  they  blow  late  or  early,   the  birds  wait  for 
their  convoy ;  and  if,  as  often  happens,  the  winds  com- 
mence to  blow  and  then  change  again,  the  birds  being 
deprived  of  their  help  drop  into  the  sea,  and  sometimes 
fall  upon  ships. 

14.  The  precise  day  or  hour  of  the  return  of  the 
winds  is  not  discovered  as  it  is  in  the   tides.      Some 
writers  sometimes  specify  a  day,  but  it  is  rather  by 
conjecture  than  constant  observation. 

Attendant  Winds. 
with  reference          This  term  of  Attendant  Winds  is  my 

to  the  4th  and  5th  ITT  •  LJ-J.I  J/L         i 

Articles  of  inquiry,  own  ;  and  1  have  invented  it  lest  the  ob- 
Tranrftion.  servation  of  them  be  forgotten  or  confused. 

My  meaning  is  this.  Take  any  country  and  divide  the 
year  into  three,  four,  or  five  parts.  If  any  wind  blows 
there  for  two,  three,  or  four  of  these  parts,  and  a  con- 
trary wind  for  only  one  part,  the  wind  which  blows 

i  Pliny,  ii.  47,  48. 


398  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

oftencst  is  called  the  attendant  wind  of  that  coun« 
try.  And  the  same  is  the  case  with  respect  to  the 
weather. 

1.  The   south  and  north  winds  are   the   attendant 
winds  of  the  world ;  for  they  with  their  divisions  blow 
more  frequently  over  the  world  than  the  east  or  west 
winds  with  their  divisions. 

2.  All  free  winds  (not  periodical)  are  attendants  of 
the  winter  rather  than  the  summer,  but  principally  of 
the  autumn  and  spring. 

3.  All  free  winds  attend  more  upon  the  regions  with- 
out the  tropics,  and  even  the  polar  circles,  than  those 
within  them ;  in  the  torrid  and  frigid  zones  they  blow 
more  seldom,  in  the  temperate  more  frequently. 

4.  All  free  winds  likewise,  and  especially  the  strong- 
est of  them,  blow  oftener  and  more  violently  in  the 
morning  and  evening  than  at  noon  and  night. 

5.  Free  winds  are  more  general  in  lands  full  of  holes 
and  cavities  than  on  solid  and  m*m  soils. 

injunction.  Human  care  has  been  very  remiss  in 
the  observation  of  attendant  winds  in  particular  dis- 
tricts ;  yet  such  observation,  if  it  were  made,  would 
be  useful  in  many  respects.  I  remember  that  an  in- 
telligent merchant  who  had  carried  out  a  colony  to 
Newfoundland  and  passed  the  winter  there,  told  me, 
when  I  asked  him  why  that  country  was  reputed  so 
extremely  cold  where  the  latitude  was  sufficiently 
mild.  "  that  it  was  not  quite  so  bad  as  was  reported, 
but  that  the  reasons  were  two :  the  one,  that  ice- 
bergs were  brought  down  by  the  current  of  the  Arc- 
tic Sea  close  beside  those  shores ;  the  other  "  (which 
he  considered  the  more  important),  "  that  the  wesi 
wind  blows  there  for  a  much  greater  part  of  the 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  399 

year  than  the  east ;  which  is  likewise  the  case  (said 
he)  in  England ;  but  then  in  Newfoundland  it  blows 
cold  from  the  continent,  here  it  comes  warm  from 
the  sea.  Now  if,"  he  continued,  "  the  east  wind 
blew  as  long  and  as  frequently  in  England  as  the 
west  wind  blows  in  Newfoundland,  the  cold  here 
would  be  far  more  intense,  and  equal  to  what  it  is 
there." 

6.  The  west  wind  is  the  attendant  of  the  afternoon, 
for  it  blows  more  frequently  than  the  east  wind  when 
the  sun  is  declining. 

7.  The  south  wind  is  the  attendant  of  the  night,  for 
it  rises  oftener  in  the  night,  and  blows  stronger.     The 
north  wind  blows  in  the  daytime. 

8.  There  are  many  great  differences  between   the 
attendant  winds  of  the  sea  and  those  of  the  land.     The 
chief  one  is  that  which  suggested  t~>  Columbus  the  dis- 
covery of  the  New  World ;  namely,  ,hat  sea  winds  are 
not  periodical  as  land  winds  generally  are.     For  since 
the  sea  abounds  with  vapours,  which  are  present  every- 
where almost  indifferently,   winds  likewise    are  gen- 
erated everywhere,  and  having  no  fixed  origins  and 
birthplaces  blow  every  way  with  great  uncertainty. 
But  the  land  is  very  unequally  provided  with  the  mat- 
ter of  winds ;  some  places  being  well  supplied  with  the 
means  of  generating  and  increasing  them,  others  com- 
paratively deficient.      And   therefore  they  commonly 

blow  from  their  nurseries,  and  take  their  direction  ac- 

» 

cordingly. 

9.  Acosta  does  not  appear  to  be  very  consistent,  when 
he  says  in  one  place  that  south  winds  blow  during  al- 
most the  whole  year  in  Peru  and  along  the  coasts  of 
the  South  Sea,  and  in  another  that  sea-winds  generally 


400  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

blow  there.1  For  the  south  wind  there  is  a  land  wind, 
as  also  is  every  other  wind  except  the  west.  We  may 
adopt  however  what  he  observes  as  more  certain,  name- 
ly, that  the  south  wind  is  the  attendant  and  common 
wind  of  those  countries ;  unless  perchance  his  imagina- 
tion or  manner  of  speaking  were  betrayed  into  error 
by  the  name  of  the  South  Sea ;  and  he  takes  the  west 
wind,  because  it  blows  from  the  South  Sea,  for  the 
south.  For  the  sea  termed  the  South  Sea  is  not  prop- 
erly the  South  Sea,  but  as  it  were  a  second  Western 
Ocean ;  for  it  stretches  in  the  same  direction  as  the 
Atlantic. 

10.  Sea  winds  are  doubtless  moister  than  land  winds, 
but  yet  purer,  and  more  easily  and  equally  mixed  with 
pure  air.     For  land  winds  are  compounded  of  delete- 
rious mixtures,  and  are  full  of  smoke.     And  let  no  one 
oppose  to  this,  that  sea  winds  must  be  heavier  by  rea- 
son of  the  saltness  of  the  sea ;  for  salt  being  in  its  na- 
ture terrestrial  does  not  rise  in  vapours. 

11.  Sea  winds  are  warm  or  cold,  according  as  they 
are  moist  or  pure.     Cold  is  lessened  by  humidity  (for 
dryness  intensifies  both  heat  and  cold),  but  increased 
by  purity.     Therefore  these  winds  are  warm  outside 
the  tropics,  but  cool  within  them. 

12.  I  judge  that  sea  winds  are  the  attendant  winds 
of  all  countries,  especially  on  the  coast.     For  winds 
from  the  sea  are  much  more  common,  by  reason  of  the 
far  greater  abundance  of  matter  for  winds  at  sea  than 
on  land  ;  unless  perchance  from  some  peculiar  cause 
ttere  happen  to  be  a  periodical  wind  blowing  from  the 
land.     But  let  no  one  confuse  periodical  and  attendant 
winds  together ;  for  the  latter  blow  much  more  gener- 

1  Acosta,  Hist,  des  Indes,  iii.  20.,  and  ii.  13. 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  401 

ally  than  the  former.  They  have  however  this  in  com- 
mon, that  they  blow  from  the  quarter  where  they  are 
bred. 

13.  Sea  winds  are  generally  more  violent  than  land 
winds;  yet  when  they  subside  the  calm  is  greater  out 
at  sea  than  near  shore  ;  so  that  sailors  sometimes  prefer 
rather  to  coast  along  the  shore  than  to  venture  out  to 
sea.  lest  they  should  be  becalmed. 

14.  There  blow  from  the   sea  to  the   shore  winds 
which  are  intermittent ;  that  is,  winds  which  advance 
a  little  way,  and  then  suddenly  turn  back.    This  surely 
is  caused  by  a  kind  of  refraction  and  inequality  be- 
tween the  breezes  of  the  sea  and  of  the  land ;  for  all 
inequality  of  the   air   is   a   commencement   of  wind. 
Such  intermittent  and  eddying  winds  are  most   fre- 
quent in  bays  and  arms  of  the  sea. 

15.  Some  breezes   generally  blow  about  all   great 
waters,  and  are  mostly  perceptible  in  the  morning ;  but 
they  appear  more  about  rivers  than  at  sea,  by  reason 
of  the  difference  between  the  breeze  from  the  land  and 
from  the  water. 

16.  Trees  growing  near  the  sea  usually  bend  and 
curve  themselves  away  from  the  sea  breezes,  as  if  they 
had  an  antipathy  thereto.      Not  however  that  these 
winds  have  any  deleterious  quality,  but  their  moist- 
ness  and  density  render  them  as  it  were  heavier. 

The  Qualities  and  Powers  of  Winds. 

with  reference  The  qualities  and  powers  of  the  winds 

27th,e28th!  29th      have  not  been  observed  diligently  and  va- 

30th,  and  31st  AT-        •         i  T        MI  ..  ^  -L    • 

tides  of  inquiry,     riously.     1  will  extract  the  more  certain 

Transition.  Qf  tnem?  an(J  leave  the  TCSt  as  frivolous  tO 

the  winds  themselves. 

VOL.  ix.  26 


402  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

1.  The  south  wind  with  us  is  rainy,  the  north  wind 
clear  ;  the  former  collects  and  nurtures  clouds,  the  lat- 
ter breaks  and   dissipates  them.      Poets  therefore   in 
their  descriptions  of  the   deluge  represent  the    north 
wind  as  at  that  time  imprisoned,  and  the  south  wind 
let  loose  with  full  powers. 

2.  The  west  wind  is  reputed  by  us  as  the  wind  of 
the  Golden  Age,  the  companion  of  perpetual  spring, 
and  the  nurse  of  flowers. 

3.  The  school  of  Paracelsus,  seeking  a  place  for  its 
three  principles  even  in  the  temple  of  Juno,  that  is  the 
air,  established  three  winds.     For  the  east  they  found 
no  place. 

Tincturis  liquidum  qui  mercurialibus  Austrum, 
Divitis  et  Zephyri  rorantes  sulphure  venas, 
Et  Boream  tristi  rigidum  sale.1 

4.  In  Britain  the  east  wind  is  considered  injurious, 
insomuch  that  there  is  a  proverb, 

"  When  the  wind  is  in  the  east, 
'Tis  neither  good  for  man  nor  beast." 

5.  In  our  hemisphere  the  south  wind  blows  from  the 
quarter  where  the   sun  is,  the  north   wind  from  the 
quarter  where   it  is  not.     The  east  wind  everywhere 
follows  the  motion  of  the  air,  the  west  wind  opposes  it. 
In  most  parts  of  Europe  and  Western  Asia  the  west 
wind   blows   from   the   sea,    the   east  from    the    land. 
These  are  the  most  radical  differences  of  the  winds, 
whereon  most  of  their  qualities  and  powers  really  de- 
pend. 

6.  The  south  wind  is  less  anniversary  and  periodical 

l  Johannes  Pratensis: 

Clear  Auster  with  mercurial  tinct  imbued, 
Rich  Zephyr  dewed  with  sulphur,  Boreas  drear 
Rigid  with  salt 


"  HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  403 

than  the  north  wind,  but  more  variable  and  free  j1  and 
when  it  is  periodical  it  is  so  gentle  as  to  be  scarce  per- 
ceptible. 

7.  The  south  wind  blows  lower  and  more  laterally ; 
the  north  wind  higher  and  more  from  above.    And  this 
is  not  in  consequence  of  the  polar  elevation  and  depres- 
sion mentioned  above,  but  because  the  south  wind  in 
general  has  its  birthplace  nearer  the  earth  than  the 
north  wind. 

8.  The  south  wind  with  us  is  wet  (as  has  been  ob- 
served before)  ;  but  in  Africa  it  is  fair  and  brings  great 
heats,  and  is  not  cold,   as  some  have   affirmed.2     In 
Africa  it  is  tolerably  healthy,  but  here  if  a  clear  and 
dry  south  wind  continue  long,  it  is  very  pestilential. 

9.  The  south  and  west  winds  do  not  generate  va- 
pours, but  as  they  blow  from  quarters  where  the  great- 
est quantity  of  vapours  is  drawn  forth  by  the  intensity 
of  the   sun's  heat,  they  are  rainy.      If  however  they 
proceed  from  dry  places  that  are  free  from  vapours, 
they  are  fair,  sometimes  pure,  and  sometimes  sultry. 

10.  The  south  and  west  winds  with  us  seem  to  be 
allied,  being  both  warm  and  moist ;  and  on  the  other 
hand  the  north  and  east  are  related,  being  both  cold 

7  O 

and  dry. 

11.  The  north  and  south  winds  (as  has  been  ob- 
served before)   are  more  frequent  than  the  east  and 
west ;  because  by  reason  of  the  presence  and  absence 
of  the  sun  in  those  parts  there  is  a  vast  inequality  of 
vapours ;  whereas  in  the  east  and  west  the  sun  is  as  it 
were  indifferent.3 

12.  The  south  wind  from  the  sea  is  very  healthy,  but 

1  Aristot.  Problem.  §  De  Ventis,  2. 

2  Id.  ib.  51.  8  id.  ib.  37. 


404  TRANSLATION  OF   THE 

more  unwholesome  from  the  land.  With  the  north 
wind  the  contrary  holds  good.  The  south  wind  from 
the  sea  is  likewise  very  beneficial  to  fruits  and  plants, 
driving  away  blights  and  other  noxious  diseases.1 

13.  The  south  wind  when  gentle  is  not  a  great  col- 
lector of  clouds,  but  it  is  often  clear,  especially  if  it  be 
of  short  continuance.     But  if  it  lasts  or  becomes  vio- 
lent, it  makes  the  sky  cloudy  and  brings  on  rain  ;  which 
comes  on  rather  when  the  wind  ceases  or  begins  to  die 
away,  than  when  it  commences  or  is  at  its  height. 

14.  When  the  south  wind  either  rises  or  falls,  there 
is  generally  a  change  of  weather,  from  fair  to  cloudy, 
or- from  hot  to  cold,  and  vice  versa.     But  the   north 
wind  often  both  rises  and  falls,  without  any  change  in 
the  weather. 

15.  After  frosts  and  long  snows  the  south  is  almost 
the  only  wind  which  blows,2  as  if  the  frozen   matter 
had  been  digested  and  so  thawed.     And  yet  it  is  not 
always  followed  by  rain,  but  the  same  thing  occurs  like- 
wise in  fair  thaws. 

16.  The  south  wind  rises  oftener  and  blows  stronger 
by  night  than  by  day,  especially  in  winter  nights.     The 
north   wind,  if  it  should  rise  by  night  (which  is  un- 
usual), hardly  ever  lasts  beyond  three  days.3 

17.  The  south  wind  raises  greater  waves  than  the 
north,  even  though  it  blow  with  equal  or  less  force. 

18.  In  a  south  wind  the  sea  appears  more  blue  and 
clear  ;  in  a  north  wind  blacker  and  darker.4 

19.  A  sudden  increase  of  the  temperature  of  the  air 
sometimes  denotes  rain ;  and  again  a  sudden  change  to 
cold  sometimes  forebodes  the  same  thing.    But  this  de- 

i  Aristot.  Problem.  §  De  Vends,  19.  «  Id.  ib.  3. 

«  Id.  ib.  9.  15.  4  Id.  ib.  39. 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  406 

pends  upon  the  nature  of  the  winds ;  for  if  it  turn  warm 
er  with  a  south  or  east  wind  rain  is  at  hand ;  and  so 
likewise  if  it  become  colder  with  a  north  or  west  wind. 

20.  The  south  wind  generally  blows  solitary  and  unre- 
sisted ;  but  the  north  winds,  especially  Csecias  and  Corus, 
are  often  accompanied  by  other  different  and  contrary 
winds,  which  repel  them  and  make  them  tumultuous. 

21.  Take   care  not  to  sow  in  a  north  wind,  or  to 
graft  and  inoculate  when  the  wind  is  in  the  south.1 

22.  The  leaves  of  trees  fall  sooner  on  the  south  side ; 
but  vine  shoots  burst  out  on  that  side,  and  have  scarce 
any  other  aspect.2 

23.  Pliny  observes  that  in  large  pastures  shepherds 
should  take  care  to  drive  their  flocks  to  the  north  side, 
that  they  may  feed  opposite  to  the  south.     For  if  they 
feed  opposite  the  north,  they  get  foot-rot,  scouring,  and 
blear  eyes.3     The   north  wind  likewise  impairs  their 
generative  powers,  so  that   if  they  look   against   the 
north  wind  as  they  copulate,  they  mostly  produce  ewe- 
lambs.     But  in  this  Pliny  (as  being  a  transcriber)  is 
not  consistent.4 

24.  Winds  are  injurious  to  the  corn  crops  at  three 
seasons  ;  namely,  on  the  opening  of  the  flower,  on  the 
shedding  of  the  flower,  and  near  the  time  of  ripening. 
At  the  two  former  times  they  either  bind  the  flower  in 
the  stalk  or  shake  it  off;  at  the  latter  they  empty  the 
ear  and  scatter  the  grain.5 

25.  In  a  south  wind  the  breath  of  men  is  more  of- 
fensive, the  appetite  of  animals  is  more  depressed,  pes- 
tilential diseases  are  more  frequent,  catarrhs  common, 
tnd  men  are  more  dull  and  heavy ;  whereas  in  a  north 

1  Pliny,  xviii.  c.  33,  34.          2  Pliny,  xviii.  33.          8  Pliny,  ubi  supra. 
*  Cf.  Pliny,  viii.  72.  5  Pliny,  xviii.  17. 


406  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 

wind  they  are  brisker,  healthier,  and  have  a  bettei 
appetite.1  The  north  wind  however  is  bad  for  con 
sumption,  cough,  the  gout,  or  any  sharp  humour. 

26.  The  east  wind  is  dry,  biting,  and  destructive ; 
the  west  damp,  mild,  and  genial. 

27.  The  east  wind  towards  the  end  of  spring  is  de- 
structive to  fruits,   by  bringing  in   worms  and  cater- 
pillars which   devour  almost  all  the  leaves ;  and  it  is 
likewise  unfavourable  to  corn.     The  west  wind  on  the 
contrary  is  very  favourable  and  friendly  to  plants,  flow- 
ers, and  all  vegetation.     About  the  autumnal  equinox 
however  the  east  wind  also  is   tolerably  pleasant. 

28.  The  west  winds  are  more  violent  than  the  east, 
and  do  more  bend  and  wrench  trees. 

29.  Wet  weather  with  an  east  wind  continues  longer 
than  with  a  west,  and  generally  lasts  a  whole  day. 

'  30.  The  east  and  north  winds  when  they  have  once 
begun  are  more  continuous ;  the  south  and  west  winds 
are  more  variable. 

31.  In  an  east  wind  all  visible  things  appear  larger ; 2 
in  a  west  wind  all  sounds  are  more  audible  and  travel 
farther. 

32.  "That  the  wind  Caecias  attracts  clouds,"3  passed 
into  a  proverb  among  the  Greeks  ;  in  comparing  it  to 
usurers  who  draw  in  money  by  putting  it  out.     It  is  a 
strong  wind,  but  so  wide  spreading  that  it  cannot  drive 
bway  the  clouds  as  quickly  as  they  return  and  resist  it. 
And  this  appears  likewise  in  the  larger  conflagrations 
which  make  head  against  the  winds. 

33.  The  Cardinal  or  even  the  Semi-cardinal  winds 
an;  not  so  stormy  as  the  Median. 

l  Aristot  Problem.  §  De  Ventis,  18.  44,  45.  "  Id.  ib.  55. 

«  Id.  ib.  1.  and  32. ;  Cf.  Erasm.  Adag.,  i.  5.  62. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  407 

34.  The  Median  winds  from  east  to  north-east  are 
ealmer  ;  from  north-east  to  east  they  are  more  stormy. 
So   likewise    the   winds   from   east   to    south-east   are 
calmer  than  from  south-east  to  south ;    and  similarly 
from  south  to  south-west  they  are  calmer  than  from 
south-west  to  west ;  and  from  west  to  north-west  they 
are  calmer  than  from  north-west  to  north.    So  that  pro- 
ceeding in  the  order  of  the  heavens  the  Median  winds 
of  the  first  Semi-cardinal  are  disposed  to  be  calm,  those 
of  the  latter  to  be  stormy. 

35.  Thunder,  lightning,  and  tornadoes,  occur  with 
cold  northerly  winds,  as  the  winds   Corus,  Thrascias, 
Circias,  Meses,  Caecias ;  whence  thunder  is   often  ac- 
companied with  hail. 

36.  Snowy  winds  likewise  come  from  the  north,  but 
from  those   Median  winds  which  are  not  stormy,   as 
Corus  and  Meses. 

37.  Winds  in  general  obtain  their  natures  and  prop- 
erties in  five  different  ways;  namely,  from  the  absence 
or  presence  of  the  sun  ;  from  an  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment with  the  natural  motion  of  the  air  ;  from  the  dif- 
ference of  the  matter  of  the  nurseries  from  which  they 
are  generated,  as  sea,  snow,  marshes,  and  the  like ;  from 
the  impregnation  of  the  countries  through  which  they 
pass ;  or  from  their  local  origins,  whether  on  high,  un- 
der the  earth,  or  in  the  middle  region  ;  all  which  will 
be  better  explained  in  the  ensuing  articles. 

38.  All  winds  have  a  power  of  drying,   even  more 
than  the  sun  itself.     For  the  sun  draws  forth  vapours, 
but  does  not  disperse  them,  unless  it  be  very  powerful ; 
whereas  the  wind  both  draws  them  out  and  carries 
them  off.1     But  the  south   wind  does  this  much  less 

1  Aristot.  Problem.  §  De  Ventis,  31. 


408  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 

than  the  others ;  and  stones  and  beams  will  sweat  even 
more  with  a  slight  south  wind  than  in  a  calm. 

39.  March  winds  are  far  more  drying  than  summer 
winds  ;  so  that  musical  instrument  makers  will  wait  for 
March  winds  to  dry  the  material  of  their  instruments, 
and  make  it  porous  and  musical. 

40.  All  winds  clear  the  air  and  free  it  from  corrup- 
tion, so  that  those  are  the  healthiest  years  in  which 
there  is  most  wind. 

41.  The  sun  has  a  fortune  like  to  that  of  kings, 
whose  governors  in   distant  provinces  have  more  sub- 
mission and  obedience  from  their  subjects  than  is  paid 
to  the  prince  himself.     For  winds,  which  derive  their 
power  and  origin  from  the  sun,  have  certainly  equal 
if  not  more  influence  on  the  temperatures  of  countries 
and  the  dispositions  of  the  air,  than  the  sun  itself.    And 
hence  it  is  that  Peru  (which  from  lying  near  the  sea 
and  having  vast  rivers  and  immense  snow-mountains 
is  copiously  supplied  with  winds  and  breezes)  may  vie 
with  Europe  in  the  mild  and  temperate  nature  of  the 
air.1 

42.  We  should  not  be  surprised  at  the  winds  having 
so  great  a  force,  since  strong  winds  are  like  inundations 
and  torrents  and  vast  waves  of  the  air.     Not  however 
that  they  have  any  very  extraordinary  power  after  all, 
if  the  matter  be  better  examined.     They  may  blow 
down  trees  whose   tops  being  spread  like    sails   help 
them   with  the  pressure  of  their  own  weight.     They 
may  likewise  overturn  edifices  that  are  weakly  built, 
but  the  more  solid  structures  they  cannot  destroy,  un- 
less  accompanied    by  earthquakes.      Sometimes    they 
hurl  down  avalanches  from  the  mountains,  so  as  almost 

1  Acosta,  Hist,  des  Indes,  ii.  9. 


"  HISTOEIA  VENTORUM."  409 

to  bury  the  plains  below  them ;  a  thing  which  befel 
Solyman  in  the  plains  of  Sultania.1  Sometimes  again 
they  cause  great  inundations  of  water. 

43,  Winds  sometimes  dry  up  rivers,  and  disclose 
their  beds.  For  if  after  a  long  drought  there  is  a 
strong  wind  down  stream  which  continues  for  some 
days,  so  that  the  fresh  water  is  as  it  were  swept  off  into 
the  sea,  and  the  tide  is  prevented  from  coming  up,  the 
river  becomes  dry  in  many  unusual  places. 

Admonitions.  1.  If  you  change  the  poles,  you  must 
also  change  your  observations  as  to  north  and  south. 
For  the  absence  or  presence  of  the  sun  is  the  cause, 
and  this  varies  according  to  the  position  of  the  poles. 
But  this  may  always  be  regarded  as  certain ;  namely, 
that  there  is  more  sea  to  the  south  and  more  land  to 
the  north,  which  likewise  has  no  slight  influence 
upon  the  winds. 

2.  Winds  are  generated  in  a  thousand 
ways,  as  will  be  made  evident  in  the  ensuing  in- 
quiry ;  whence  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  fix  observa- 
tions on  so  variable  a  subject.  Those  however 
which  are  here  laid  down  may  generally  be  held 
for  certain. 

The  Local  Origins  of  Winds. 
with  reference       The  knowledge  of  the  local  origins  of  the 

to  the  8th  Arti-        .     ,      .  ,.„,    °,  _  , 

cie  of  inquiry,  winds  is  a  difficult  inquiry  ;  tor  whence  the 
lon'  wind  cometh  and  whither  it  goeth  is  re- 
garded even  in  Scripture  as  a  mystery.  And  I  am  not 
now  speaking  of  the  sources  of  particular  winds  (of 
which  hereafter),  but  of  the  places  in  which  winds  in 
general  are  bred.  Some  seek  for  them  on  high,  others 

1  Knolles'  History  of  the  Turks  (1603). 


410  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

search  the  deep,  but  they  scarce  look  for  them  in  that 
middle  space  where  they  are  mostly  generated.  And 
in  this  they  follow  the  manner  of  men  to  overlook  what 
lies  before  their  feet,  and  to  prefer  things  dark  and  ob- 
scure. This  indeed  is  certain,  that  winds  are  either 
natives  or  strangers ;  for  they  are  as  it  were  traders  in 
vapours,  which  they  collect  into  clouds  for  importation 
or  exportation  to  and  from  different  countries,  receiv- 
ing winds  in  return  by  way  of  exchange.  But  let  us 
now  inquire  concerning  native  winds  ;  for  those  which 
are  strangers  in  one  place  are  natives  in  another. 
Winds  therefore  have  three  local  origins  ;  that  is,  they 
either  breathe  and  spring  forth  from  the  earth,  or  they 
are  driven  down  from  above,  or  they  are  stirred  up 
here  in  the  body  of  the  air.  Those  driven  down  from 
abrve  are  generated  in  two  ways ;  for  they  are  either 
driven  down  before  they  are  formed  into  clouds,  or 
afterwards  when  the  clouds  have  been  rarified  and  dis- 
persed. Let  us  now  observe  what  is  their  history. 

1.  The    poets   have  feigned   that   the  kingdom    of 
jEolus  was  situated  in  subterranean  dens  and  caverns, 
where  the  winds  were  imprisoned,  and  whence   they 
were  occasionally  let  loose.1 

2.  Some  theologians  also,  who  were  likewise  philos- 
ophers, have  drawn  a  similar  inference  from  the  words 
of  Scripture,  "  Who  brings  forth  the  winds  out  of  his 
treasures ;  "  as  if  the  winds  proceeded  from  some  sub- 
terranean treasure-houses  or  magazines.     But  there  is 
nothing  in  this ;  for  Scripture  speaks  likewise  of  the 
treasures  of  snow  and  rain,  which  no  one  doubts  are 
generated  above. 

3.  There  is  doubtless  a  large  quantity  of  air  con- 

1  Virg.  J5n.  i.  50.,  &c. 


"HISTORIA    VENTOEUM."  411 

tained  in  the  earth,  which  probably  exhales  by  degrees, 

and  must  certainly  from   particular  causes  sometimes 

rush  out  in  a  body. 

Phenomenon  ^n  grea*  droughts  and  in  the  middle  of 
summer,  when  the  earth  is  more  full  of 
cracks,  great  bodies  of  water  are  observed 
to  burst  forth  in  dry  and  sandy  places.  And 
if  water  (which  is  a  gross  body)  does  this 
seldom;  air  (which  is  a  thin  and  rarified 
body)  will  probably  do  it  oftener. 

4.  When  air  exhales  from  the  earth  gradually  and 
at  different  spots,  it  is  at  first  hardly  perceptible ;  but 
when  many  of  these  small  emanations  of  air  are  col- 
lected together,  a  wind  is  formed  from  them,  as  a  river 
from  many  springs.     But  this   seems  to  be  time  ;  for 
the  ancients  have  remarked  that  many  winds  at  their 
rise  and  in  the  places  whence  they  rise  are  weak  at 
first,  but  gather  strength  as  they  proceed,  like  rivers.1 

5.  There  are  some  places  in  the  sea,  and  likewise 
some  lakes,  which  without  any  winds  swell  exceed- 
ingly.    This  would  appear  to  be  owing  to  some  sub- 
terraneous blast. 

6.  It  requires  a  great  force  of  subterraneous  air  to 
shake  or  cleave  the  earth,  but  a  less  to  raise  the  water. 
Hence  it  is  that  earthquakes  are  uncommon,  but  swell- 
ings and  risings  of  the  waters  are  more  frequent. 

7.  It  is  likewise  everywhere  observed  that  waters 
somewhat  rise  and  swell  before  storms. 

8.  The  thin  subterraneous  air  which  escapes  at  dif- 
ferent spots  is  not  perceived  on  land  till  it  is  collected 
into  wind,  by  reason  of  the  porous  nature  of  the  earth. 
But  when  it  rises  from  below  the  waters  it  is  perceived 

i  Cf.  Gilbert,  Physiol.  iv.  2. 


412  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

immediately  from  a  certain  swelling  of  the  waters,  by 
reason  of  their  continuity. 

9.  It  has  been  before  observed  that  hollow  and  cav- 
ernous districts  have  their  attendant  winds  ;    so  that 
these  would  certainly  appear  to  have  their  local  ori- 
gins from  the  earth. 

10.  On  large  rocky  mountains  the  winds  are  found 
to  blow  both  sooner  (that  is,  before  they  are  percepti- 
ble in  the  vallies),  and  more  frequently  (that  is  when 
there  is  a  calm  in  the  vallies)  ;  but  all  mountains  and 
rocks  are  cavernous. 

11.  Gilbert  observes  that  in  Derbyshire  l  in  Eng- 
land, a  mountainous  and  rocky  district,  there  are  such 
strong  eruptions  of  winds  from  some  caverns,  that  arti- 
cles of  dress  or  rags  thrown  into  them  are  blown  back 
again  with  great  violence,  and  carried  up  a  great  height 
into  the  air. 

12.  At  Aber  Barry  on  the  Severn  in  Wales,  there 
is  a  rocky  cliff  filled  with  holes,  to  which  if  a  man 
apply  his  ear  he  will  hear  various  sounds  and  mur- 
murs of  subterranean  blasts. 

indirect  Phe-         Acosta  has  observed  with  respect  to  the 

nomenon.  •    •        *>  • 

towns  of  Plata  and  Potosi  in  Peru,  which 
do  not  lie  far  apart  from  one  another,  and 
are  both  situated  on  high  and  mountainous 
ground,  so  that  there  is  no  difference  in 
this  point ;  that  nevertheless  the  tempera- 
ture of  Potosi  is  cold  and  wintry,  while  that 
of  Plata  is  mild  and  spring-like.2  This  may 
perhaps  be  owing  to  the  silver  mines  near 

l  The  Latin  has  Denbigh ;  but  the  true  reading  is  preserved  in  Gilbert 
Derbiae. 
*  Acosta,  Hist,  des  Indea,  ii.  13. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  413 

Potosi ;  which  proves  that  there  are  vents 
for  hot  and  cold  blasts  from  the  earth. 

13.  If  the  earth  be  the  original  source  of  cold,  as 
Parraenides  maintained  (an  opinion  not  to  be  despised, 
seeing  that  cold  and  density  are  closely  united)  ; l  it 
is  not  less  probable  that  warm  exhalations  should  be 
thrown  up  from  the  central  cold  of  the   earth,  than 
that  they  should  be  thrown  down  from  the  cold  of 
the  upper  air. 

14.  It  is  said  by  some  of  the  ancients  that  there 
are  certain  wells  in  Dalmatia  and  the  country  of  Cy- 
rene,  into  which  if  a  stone  be  thrown,  storms  will  soon 
arise ; 2  as  if  the  stone  broke  through  some  covering  in 
a  place  where  the  winds  were  confined. 

indirect  Phe-         JEtna  and  many  other  mountains  vomit 

nonunion* 

forth  flames ;  and  it  is  probable  that  air 
may  break  out  in  the  same  way,  especially 
being  expanded  and  set  in  motion  by  sub- 
terranean heat. 

15.  Upon  earthquakes,  certain  foreign  and  noxious 
winds  are  observed  to  blow,  both  before  and  after  the 
shock ;  just  as  a  light  smoke  is  commonly  emitted  be- 
fore and  after  great  conflagrations. 

Admonition.  Air  confined  in  the  earth  is  forced  out 
by  many  causes.  Sometimes  a  badly  cemented  mass 
of  earth  falls  into  a  hollow  ;  sometimes  the  waters 
ingulf  themselves  in  the  earth  ;  sometimes  the  air  is 
expanded  by  subterranean  fires  and  requires  greater 
space ;  sometimes  the  earth,  which  was  before  firm 
and  vaulted,  is  reduced  to  ashes  by  internal  fire, 
and  being  no  longer  able  to  support  itself  falls 
in.  And  there  are  many  other  similar  causes. 

l  Arist.  Metaph.  i.  5.  2  piiny,  ii.  44. 


414  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

X 

So  much  then  for  the  inquiry  concerning  the  first 
local  origin  of  the  winds,  namely,  from  under  the 
earth.  I  come  now  to  the  second  origin ;  namely, 
from  on  high,  or  from  what  is  called  the  middle  re- 
gion of  the  air. 

Admonition.  Let  no  one  misinterpret  my  words  into 
a  denial  that  the  other  winds  may  likewise  be  gen- 
erated from  vapours  both  of  land  and  sea.  But,  this 
I  have  mentioned  is  the  first  kind  of  winds  which 
spring  from  the  earth  as  winds  ready  formed. 

16.  It  has  been  observed  that  woods  begin  to  rustle 
before  winds  are  manifestly  perceived ; l  whence  it  is 
conjectured  that  wind  descends  from  above.     This  is 
likewise  remarked  on  mountains  (as  I  have  mentioned 
before),  but  the  cause  is  less  certain  by  reason  of  the 
hollows  therein. 

17.  The    shooting   and   twinkling  of  stars   foretels 
wind  from  that  quarter  where  the  shooting  is  seen ; 2 
which  shows  that  the   air  is  disturbed  above,  before 
the  motion  reaches  us. 

18.  The  clearing  of  the  sky  and  dispersing  of  the 
clouds  foreshadow  winds,  before  they  are  felt  on  the 
earth ;    which  likewise  prove   that   winds    commence 
above. 

19.  Before  the  rising  of  a  wind,  the  lesser  stars  are 
not  visible,  even  on  a  clear  night ; 3  the  air  apparently 
being   condensed,  and  made   less  transparent  by  the 
matter  which  is  afterwards  turned  into  winds. 

20.  Halos  round  the  moon,  a  blood-red  sunset,  a 
red  moon  on  her  fourth  rising,  and  many  other  prog- 

1  Pliny,  xviii.  86. 

2  Arist.  Prob.  xxvi.  25. ;  and  Of.  Pliny,  xviii.  80. 
*  Pliny,  ubi  supra. 


"HISTOKIA   VENTORUM."  415 

nostics  of  winds  derived  from  above  (whereof  I  will 
treat  in  their  proper  place),  indicate  that  the  matter 
of  winds  is  there  commenced  and  prepared. 

21.  In  these  phenomena  you  may  remark  the  dif- 
ference   already   mentioned    between    the    two    ways 
whereby  winds  are  generated  above  ;  namely,  before 
and  after  the  collection  of  vapours  into  cloud.     For 
the    prognostics   from    halos   and    the    colours    of   the 
sun  and   moon    have    some    cloudy  matter ;    but   the 
shooting   and    obscuration  of   the    smaller   stars    take 
place   in  a  clear  sky. 

22.  When  wind  proceeds  from  a  formed  cloud,  the 
cloud  is  either  totally  dissipated  and  turned  into  wind ; 
or  it  is  divided  partly  into  rain,  and  partly  into  wind ; 
or  it  is  rent  asunder,  and  the  wind  bursts  forth  as  in  a 
storm. 

23.  Many  indirect  phenomena  may  be  observed  in 
nature  of  the  repercussion  by  cold.     Wherefore,  since 
the  cold  in  the  middle  region  of  the  air  is  plainly  very 
intense,  it  is  evident  that  vapours  cannot  for  the  most 
part  penetrate  those  regions,  but  must  be  either  con- 
gealed or  hurled  back  again.     And  this  was  the  opin- 
ion of  the  ancients,  which  in  this  instance  is  sound. 

The  third  local  origin  of  winds  is  in  the  case  of 
those  which  are  generated  in  the  lower  air ;  to  which 
likewise  I  give  the  name  of  swellings  or  overcharges 
of  the  air.  It  is  a  thing  very  common  and  familiar, 
but  yet  hitherto  passed  over  in  silence. 

speculation.  The  generation  of  those  winds  which  are 
stirred  in  the  lower  air  is  nothing  more  mysterious 
than  this.  The  air  newly  created  from  water  and 
rarified  and  resolved  vapours,  being  united  to  the 


416         %  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

former  air,  can  no  longer  be  confined  within  the 
same  limits  as  before,  but  swells  and  rolls  onwards 
and  occupies  a  larger  space.  But  here  we  must  as- 
sume two  things.  First,  that  a  drop  of  water  turned 
into  air  (whatever  stories  they  may  tell  of  the  deci- 
mal proportion  of  the  elements)  requires  at  least  a 
hundred  times  more  space  than  before  ;  and  second- 
ly, that  a  little  new  air  in  motion,  when  superadded  to 
the  old,  stirs  and  puts  the  whole  in  motion.  And  this 
may  be  seen  by  the  draught  from  a  pair  of  bellows 
or  a  crack  in  the  window,  which  will  set  the  air  of 
the  whole  room  in  motion,  as  the  flame  of  the  can- 
dles will  directly  show. 

24.  As  dews  and  mists  are  generated  in  the  lower 
air,  without  being  turned  into  clouds  or  penetrating 
into   the  middle    region  ;    so  it  is  with  many  of  the 
winds. 

25.  There  is  a  continual  breeze  playing  on  seas  and 
waters,  which  is  only  a  slight  wind  newly  generated. 

26.  The  rainbow,  which  is  the  lowest  of  the  mete- 
ors and  generated  nearest  the  earth,  when  it  does  not 
appear  entire,  but  broken  and  only  with  the  ends  visi- 
ble, is  resolved  into  winds,  as  much  if  not  more  than 
into  rain. 

27.  It  has  been   observed  that  in  countries  which 
are    divided    and    separated    by   the    interposition    of 
mountains  some  winds  that  are  common  on  one  side 
of  the  range  do  not  reach  the  other.1     This  manifestly 
shows  that  they  are  generated  below  the  tops  of  those 
mountains. 

28.  There    is  an   infinite   variety  of   winds,   which 
blow  in  clear  weather,  and   even  in  countries  where 

l  Gilbert,  Phys.  iv.  1. 


"  HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  417 

it  never  rains,  that  are  generated  where  they  blow, 
without  ever  having  been  clouds  or  reaching  to  the 
middle  region  of  the  air. 

indirect          Any  one  who  knows  how  easily  vapour 

Phenomena.  J  •/  r 

is  resolved  into  air,  how  great  is  the  quan- 
tity of  vapours,  and  how  much  greater  space 
drop  of  water  occupies  when  turned  into 
air  than  it  did  before  (as  has  been  men- 
tioned above),  and  how  little  compression 
the  air  bears,  will  feel  certain  that  winds 
must  be  generated  everywhere,  from  the 
surface  of  the  earth  to  the  highest  parts  of 
the  atmosphere.  For  a  large  quantity  of 
vapour,  when  it  begins  to  expand,  cannot 
possibly  rise  to  the  middle  region  of  the 
air  without  surcharging  the  air  and  pro- 
ducing disturbance  on  the  way. 

Accidental  Generations  of  Winds. 

with  reference       Accidental  generations  of  winds  are  those 
Article  of       which  do  not  produce  or  create  an  impul- 
siye  motion,  but  either  excite  it  by  compres- 


sion, or  drive  it  back  by  repercussion,  or 
roll  and  agitate  it  by  curves.  And  this  is  effected  by 
external  causes,  and  the  position  of  contiguous  bodies. 

1.  There  is  more  agitation  of  the  air  and  sensation 
of  winds  in  places  where  there  are  low  hills  surrounded 
by  vallies  with  a  higher  range   of  hills  beyond,  than 
either  on  mountains  or  plains. 

2.  Winds  and  draughts  are  felt  in  towns  where  there 
is  any  wide  place  with  narrow  outlets  or  passages,  and 
at  the  corners  of  streets. 

3.  Ventilation   is   produced   or   arises   naturally   in 
VOL.  ix.  27 


418  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

houses,  where  there  is  a  thorough  draught,  the  air  go- 
ing in  at  one  side  and  out  at  the  other.  But  it  is  done 
more  effectually,  if  the  air  enters  from  different  sides, 
meets  in  angles,  and  has  a  common  outlet  at  the  meet- 
ing-place. Arched  and  circular  dining  rooms  are  cooler 
likewise,  because  the  air  which  is  stirred  in  them  is 
reflected  in  all  directions.  Curved  porticoes  are  better 
than  straight  ones  ;  for  a  wind  in  a  straight  line, 
though  it  is  not  confined  but  has  a  free  outlet,  yet  does 
not  make  the  air  so  unequal,  voluminous,  and  undula- 
tory,  as  the  meeting  in  angles,  the  windings  about  and 
collections  in  a  round  space,  and  the  like. 

4.  After  great  storms   at  sea  the  accidental  wind 
lasts  for  a  time  after    the   original  wind  has   settled. 
And  this  is  caused  by  the  collision  and  percussion  of 
the  air  from  the  undulation  of  the  waves. 

5.  In  gardens  the  wind  is  commonly  found  to  be  re- 
pelled by  walls,  buildings,  and  mounds  ;  so  that  one 
would  think  it  blew  in  a  contrary  direction  to  that  in 
which  it  really  blows. 

6.  If  one   side   of  a  country  is  surrounded  by  hills, 
and  a  wind  blow  for  a  long  time  from  the  plain  to  the 
hills,  this  wind  being   repelled  by  the  hills  is   either 
condensed  into  rain,  if  it  be  a  moist  wind,  or  changed 
into  a  contrary  wind,  which  however  is  of  no  long  con- 
tinuance. 

7.  In  weathering  headlands  sailors  often  experience 
a  change  of  wind. 


Extraordinary  Winds  and  Sudden  Gusts. 
Some  writers  give   opinions  and  r 

.  , 

touching  extraordinary  winds,  as  hurr 

i  •  i      •     j  J      • 

or  storms,  whirlwinds,  typhoons,  and  siroc- 


th  reference       Some  writers  give   opinions  and  reasons 

to  the  10th  .  , 

Article  of       touching  extraordinary  winds,  as  hurricanes 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  419 

Transition.  cos  ;  but  they  give  no  description  of  the 
thing  itself,  which  certainly  is  to  be  sought  from  jour- 
nals and  scattered  history. 

1.  Sudden  gusts  never  come  in  a  clear  sky,  but  only 
when   it  is  cloudy   and  with  rain  ;    so  that  there    s 
rightly  thought  to  be  an  eruption,  with  a  discharge  of 
the  wind  and  a  concussion  of  the  water. 

2.  Those  storms  attended  with  cloud  and  fog,  called 
"  belluse,"  which  rise  up  like  pillars,  are  very  violent 
and  dangerous  at  sea. 

3.  The  greater  typhoons,  which   extend  over  some 
considerable    space  and  carry  things  up  into  the  air 
along  with  them,  seldom  occur ;  but  the  lesser  and  as 
it  were  playful  eddies  and  whirlwinds  are   common. 

4.  All  storms,   typhoons,    and   greater  whirlwinds, 
have    a  manifest  motion  of  precipitation   or  vibration 
downwards,  more  than  the  other  winds.     And  hence 
they  appear  to  rush  like  torrents,  and  to  flow  down 
as  in  channels,  and  to  be  then  repelled  by  the  earth. 

5.  It  sometimes  happens  that  in  meadows  haycocks 
are  carried  up  into  the  air,  and  then  spread  abroad  like 
a  cover  over  the  field.     Again,  bundles  of  pea-straw, 
sheafs  of  corn,  and  linen  hung  out  to  dry,  are  lifted  as 
high  as  the  tops  of  trees  or  above  the  tops  of  houses 
by  whirlwinds ;  and  all  this  is  done  without  any  great 
force  or  violence  of  wind. 

6.  Sometimes   these  very  slight  and  partial  whirl- 
winds take  place  even  on  a  clear  day ;  so  that  a  person 
riding  may  see  dust  or  straws  caught  up  and  whirled 
round  near  him  without  feeling  much  wind.     This  is 
doubtless  caused  by  contrary  breezes  mutually  repelling 
one  another,  and  making  a  circulation  of  air  by  the 
concussion. 


420  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

7.  It  is  certain  that  there  are  some  blasts  which 
leave  behind  them  on  plants  manifest  traces  of  burn- 
ing and  scorching.  But  the  sirocco,  which  is  an  in- 
visible lightning  and  a  burning  air  without  flame,  is 
referred  to  the  inquiry  on  lightning. 

Things  Contributing  to  Winds,  that  is,  the  Original ;  for 
of  Accidental  Winds  it  has  been  inquired  above. 

with  reference  The  ancients  have  given  a  very  confused 
£>tu!ei3th^i4th,  an<i  uncertain  account  of  the  winds  and 
ctes  of  inquiry,  their  causes,  and  mostly  not  true.  But  no 
Transition.  wonder  that  those  who  do  not  look  close 
do  not  see  clearly.  They  talk  as  if  wind  were  some- 
thing else,  different  from  air  in  motion  ;  and  as  if  ex- 
halations generated  and  composed  the  whole  body  of 
winds ;  and  as  if  the  matter  of  winds  were  only  a  hot 
and  dry  exhalation  ; l  and  as  if  the  origin  of  the  motion 
of  winds  were  only  an  expulsion  and  repercussion  from 
the  cold  of  the  middle  region  ;  all  which  things  are 
mere  arbitrary  and  imaginary  suppositions.  But  yet 
from  these  threads,  which  are  indeed  but  cobwebs, 
they  weave  large  webs.  Whereas  in  reality  every 
impulse  of  the  air  is  a  wind ;  exhalations  mixed  with 
the  air  contribute  more  to  the  motion,  than  to  the  mat- 
ter of  the  winds  ;  moist  vapours  are  by  a  well  propor- 
tioned heat  turned  into  wind  more  easily  than  dry 
exhalations ;  and  many  winds,  besides  those  which  are 
driven  down  and  repelled  from  above,  are  generated 
in  the  lower  region  of  the  air,  and  exhale  from  the 
earth.  Let  us  observe  what  is  the  language  of  the 
things  themselves. 

1.  I  have  mentioned  in  the  article  on  general  winds, 

1  Arist.  Meteorolog.  ii.  4. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  421 

that  the  natural  rotation  of  the  air,  without  any  other 
external  cause,  generates  a  perceptible  wind  within  the 
tropics,  where  the  air  revolves  in  larger  circles. 

2.  Next  to  the  natural  motion  of  the  air,  before  in- 
quiring concerning  the  sun,  which  is  the  principal  par- 
ent of  the  winds,  we  must  observe  whether  anything 
be  due  to  the  moon  and  other  stars,  upon  clear  experi- 
mental evidence. 

3.  Great  and  violent  winds  arise  some  hours  before 
an  eclipse  of  the  moon;  so  that  if  the  moon  is  eclipsed 
at  midnight,  there  are  winds  the  evening  before ;  but 
if  in  the  morning,  there  are  winds  at  midnight. 

4.  Acosta  observes   that  in  Peru,  which  is  a  very 
windy  country,  there  is  most  wind  at  the  full  moon.1 

injunction.  Jt  would  be  well  worth  observing,  what 
effect  the  motions  and  changes  of  the  moon  have 
upon  the  winds,  for  they  certainly  influence  the 
waters.  For  instance,  whether  the  winds  like  the 
tides  are  not  somewhat  higher  at  the  full  and  new 
moon,  than  in  the  quarters.  For  though  it  may  be 
a  convenient  theory,  that  the  moon  has  dominion 
over  the  waters,  and  the  sun  and  stars  over  the 
air ;  yet  it  is  certain  that  water  and  air  are  very 
homogeneous  bodies,  and  that  next  to  the  sun,  the 
moon  has  the  greatest  power  in  every  thing  here 
below. 

5.  Greater  winds  are   observed  to  blow  about  the 
time  of  the  conjunctions  of  planets. 

6.  Winds  and  stormy  weather  are  frequent  at  the 
rising  of  Orion  ; 2  but  we  should  observe  whether  this 
does  not  proceed  from  the  rising  of  that  constellation 
at  a  time  of  year  most  generative  of  winds  ;  so  that  it 

1  Hist,  des  Indes,  ii.  7.  2  Arist.  Problem.  De  Vends.  14. 


422  TRANSLATION  OF   THE 

would  be  rather  a  concomitant  than  a  cause.  And  a 
similar  doubt  might  justly  be  raised  respecting  the 
rains  at  the  rising  of  the  Hyades  and  Pleiades,  or  the 
storms  at  the  rising  of  Arcturus.  And"  so  much  with 
regard  to  the  moon  and  stars. 

7.  The    sun    doubtless  is  the   primary    efficient    of 
many  winds,  as  by  its  heat  it  operates  upon  two  kinds 
of  matter ;  namely,  the  body  of  the  air,  and  -v  apours 
or  exhalations. 

8.  The  sun,  when   powerful,  expands  air,  though 
pure  and  entirely  unmixed,  perhaps  as  much  as  one- 
third,  which  is  no  trifling  difference.     From  this  simple 
expansion  therefore  some  wind  must  arise  in  the  sun's 
paths,  especially  during  great  heats  ;  and  that  rather 
two  or  three  hours  after  sunrise  than  at  daybreak. 

9.  In  Europe,  the  nights  are  more  sultry  ;  in  Peru, 
the  thrco  first  hours  of  the  morning;1  both  from  the 
same  cause,  namely,  the  cessation  of  winds  and  breezes 
at  those  hours. 

10.  In  a  water  thermometer  dilated  air  depresses  the 
water  as  with  a  blast ;  but  in  a  glass  filled  only  with  air 
and  capped  with  a  bladder  the  dilatation  of   the   air 
blows  out  the  bladder  perceptibly,  like  a  wind. 

11.  I  made  an  experiment  of  this  kind  of  wind  in  a 
round  tower  that  was  completely  shut  up  on  every 
side.     A  chafing  dish  of  coals  thoroughly  ignited  so 
that  there  might  be  no  smoke  was  placed  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.     At  one  side  of  this,  but  at  some  dis- 
tance from  it,  I  suspended  a  thread,  with  a  cross  of 
feathers  fastened  to  it  to  make  it  more  susceptible  of 
motion.     After  a  short  time  therefore,  when  the  heat 
had  increased  and  the  air  dilated,  the  cross  of  feathers 

1  Acosta,  Hist,  des  Indes,  ii.  13. 


"HISTORIA    VENTORUM."  423 

with  its  thread  began  to  wave  about,  first  to  one  side 
and  then  to  the  other.  And  further,  when  a  hole  was 
made  in  the  window  of  the  tower,  a  warm  gust  of 
air  passed  out,  not  continuous,  but  intermittent,  and  in 
undulating  currents. 

12.  The  contraction  of  the  air  by  cold  after  it  has 
been  dilated  likewise  creates  a  wind  of  the  same  kind, 
but  weaker,  because   cold  has  less   force.      In    Peru 
therefore  under  any  spot  of  shade  not  only  is  the  cool- 
ness greater  than  is  felt  here  (which  is  the  result  of 
antiperistasis) ,  but  there  is  a  manifest  breeze  from  the 
contraction  of  the  air  as  soon  as  it  comes  under  the 
shade.1     And  so  much  for  wind  caused  by  mere  dila- 
tation and  contraction  of  the  air. 

13.  Winds  rising  from  mere  motions  of  the  air,  with 
no  intermixture  of  vapours,  are  soft  and  gentle.     Let 
us  now  inquire  concerning  vaporous  winds  (or  winds 
generated   from   vapours),    which    may   be    as   much 
stronger  than  the  former,  as  the  expansion  of  a  drop 
of  water  turned  into  air  exceeds  any  expansion  of  air 
already  made ;  which  it  was  shown  to  do  many  degrees. 

14.  The  sun  with  its  proportionate  heat  is  the  effi- 
cient of  vaporous  winds  (which  are  those   that  com- 
monly blow).     The  matter  is  the  vapours  and  exha- 
lations turned  and  resolved  into  air;   I  say  air  (not 
anything  other  than   air),  though   not  quite  pure  to 
begin  with. 

15.  The  sun  when  it  has  little  heat  raises  no  va- 
pours, and  therefore  creates  no  wind. 

16.  The  sun,  when  it  has  a  moderate  heat,  draws 
out  vapours,  but  does  not  immediately  dissipate  them. 
And  therefore,  if  there  be  a  large  quantity  of  them, 

1  Acosta,  ubi  supra. 


424  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

they  collect  into  rain,  either  alone,  or  accompanied 
with  wind.  If  the  quantity  be  small,  they  are  turned 
into  wind  alone. 

17.  The  heat  of  the  sun  on  its  increase  is  more  dis- 
posed to  generate  winds ;  on  its  decrease  to  generate 
rain. 

18.  The  intense  and  continued  heat  of  the  sun  rari- 
fies,  disperses,  and  elevates  vapours,  and  at  the  same 
time  mixes  them  equally  and  incorporates  them  with 
the  air  ;  which  makes  the  air  calm  and  serene. 

19.  The  equal  and  continuous  heat  of  the  sun  is  less 
favourable  than  the  unequal  and  variable  heat  for  the 
generation  of  winds.     Hence  it  is  that  winds  are  less 
troublesome  in  a  voyage  to  Russia  than  in  the  English 
Channel,  by  reason  of  the  long  days.     But  at  the  time 
of  the  equinox  in  Peru,  winds  are  veiy  frequent,  by 
reason  of  the  great  inequality  of  heat  between   day 
and  night. 

20.  In  vapours  both  the  quantity  and  quality  are  of 
importance.     A  small  quantity  produces  gentle  gales ; 
a  moderate  quantity  strong  winds  ;    a   large  quantity 
charges  the  air  and  generates  rain,  either  with  or  with- 
out winds. 

21.  Vapours  arising  from  the  sea,  rivers,  and  inun- 
dations, generate  a  far  greater  quantity  of  winds  than 
do  exhalations  from  the  land.     But  yet  winds  which 
arise  from  the  earth,  and  less  damp  places,  are  more 
fixed  and  continuous  ;    and  these  generally  are  those 
which   are   driven    down    from    above.      The    opinion 
therefore  of  the  ancients  would  not  have  been  totally 
unprofitable  in  this  respect,  had  they  not  chosen  as  it 
were  to  divide  the  inheritance,  and  to  assign  rain&  to 
the  vapours  and  only  exhalations  to  the  winds.     And 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  425 

things  of  this  kind  sound  well  in  words,  but  are  really 
worthless  and  unprofitable.1 

22.  Winds  from  the  melting  of  snow  on  the  moun- 
tains occupy  a  middle   space  between  water  and  land 
winds,  but  incline  rather  to  the  former,  though  they 
are  more  keen  and  active. 

23.  The  melting  of  snow  on   the   snow  mountains 
always,  as  has  been  before  observed,  produces  period- 
ical  winds  from  that  quarter. 

24.  The  anniversary  north  winds  at  the  rising  of 
the  dog-star2  are   supposed  to  come  from  the  frozen 
sea,  and    the    regions  about  the  Arctic  circle,   where 
the  ice  and  snow  are  not  melted  till  summer  is  far 
advanced. 

25.  The  masses  or  mountains  of  ice  which  are  car- 
ried down  towards  Canada  and  Newfoundland  are  more 
generative  of  cold  gales  than  variable  winds. 

26.  The  winds  from  sandy  or  chalky  soils  are  few 
and  dry ;  but  in  hotter  countries  the  same  are  sultry, 
smoky,  and  burning. 

27.  Winds  generated  from  sea-vapours  more  easily 
return  to  rain?  as  the  watery  element  asserts  and  re- 
claims its  right ;  but  if  this  does  not  take  place,  they 
mix  directly  with  the  air,  and  remain  quiet.     But  ter- 
restrial, smoky,  and  unctuous  exhalations  are  less  easily 
resolved,  ascend  higher,  are  more  excited  in  their  mo- 
tion, frequently  penetrate  into  the  middle  region  of  the 
air,  and  make  up  some  of  the  matter  of  fiery  meteors. 

28.  It  is  repoi'ted  in  England  that,  when  Gascony 
was  under  our  dominion,  the  inhabitants  of  Bordeaux 
and  the  neighbourhood  presented  a  petition  to  the  king, 
to  stop  the  burning  of  heather  in  Sussex  and  Hamp- 

i  Arist.  Meteorolog.  ii.  4.  2  Cf.  Pliny,  ii. 


426  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

shire  ;  because  about  the  end  of  April  it  caused  a  wind 
destructive  to  the  vines. 

29.  The  meetings  of  winds  together,  if  the  winds 
be  strong,  produce  violent  whirlwinds  ;  but  if  the  winds 
be  gentle  and  moist,  they  cause  rain  and  a  calm. 

30.  Winds  are  calmed  and  restrained  in  five  ways ; 
namely,  when  the  air  charged  and  agitated  with  va- 
pours is  freed  by  the  vapours  becoming  condensed  into 
rain  ;  or  when  the  vapours  are  ratified  and  dissipated, 
and  are  thus  mixed  with  the  air,  and  agree  well  with 
it,  and  keep  quiet ;  or  when  vapours  or  exhalations  are 
raised  and  exalted  so  high,  that  there  is  a  complete 
freedom  from  them,  till  they  are  either  driven  down 
from  the  middle  region  of  the  air,  or  admitted  into  it ; 
or  when  vapours  collected  into  clouds  are  driven  by 
the  upper  winds  into  other  countries,  and  so  leave  the 
lands  over  which  they  pass  calm  and  undisturbed ;  or 
lastly,  when  the  winds  blowing  from  their  nurseries 
become  feeble  by  reason  of  the  length  of  their  journey 
and  the  want  of  fresh  matter,  and  losing  their  force 
gradually  die  out. 

31.  Showers   generally  allay  the   winds,   especially 
if  they  be  stormy ;  as  on  the  other  hand  winds  often 
keep  off  rain. 

32.  Winds  contract  themselves  into  rain  (which  is 
the  first  and  principal  of  the  five  ways  in  which  they 
are  calmed),  either  when  overcharged  by  the  quantity 
of  vapours,  or  by  reason  of  the  contrary  motions   of 
gentle  winds,  or  by  reason  of  the  opposition  of  moun- 
tains and  headlands,  which  resist  the  shock  of  the  winds 
and  gradually  turn  them   back  on  themselves,  or  by 
reason  of  the  condensation  from  intense  cold. 

33.  The  smaller  and  lighter  winds  generally  rise  in 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  427 

the  morning  and  fall  at  sunset,  as  the  condensation  of 
the  night  air  has  power  enough  to  contract  them.  For 
the  air  will  submit  to  some  compression  without  becom- 
ing agitated. 

34.  The  sound  of  bells  is  supposed  to  dissipate  thun- 
der and  lightning ;  but  this  has  not  come  under  obser- 
vation with  respect  to  winds. 

Admonition.  Consult  here  the  passage  concerning  the 
prognostics  of  winds  ;  for  there  is  some  connection 
between  causes  and  signs. 

35.  Pliny  mentions  that  the  violence  of  a  whirlwind 
is  stopped  by  pouring  vinegar  upon  it.1 

The  Limits  of  Winds. 

with  reference  to       1.  It  is  said  that  the  priests  who  offered 
and  isth  Articles  the  yearly  sacrifices  on  the  altars  at  the  tops 
of  Mont  Athos  and  Olympus  used  to  find 
the  letters  which  they  had  traced  in  the  ashes  of  the 
victims  the  preceding  year  no  way  disarranged  or  oblit- 
erated ;  and  this,  although  the  altars  did  not  stand  in  a 
temple,  but  in  the  open  air.2     This  fully  proved  that 
at  that  elevation  there  had  been  neither  rain  nor  wind. 

2.  It  is  said  that  at  the  top  of  the  Peak  of  Teneriffe, 
and  also  on  the  Andes  between  Peru  and  Chili,  snow 
lies  along  the  cliffs  and  sides  of  the  mountains  ;  but  at 
the  summits  themselves  there  is  nothing  except  a  still 
air,  so  rarified  as  almost  to  stop  respiration,  and  so  acri- 
monious and  pungent  as  to  excite  nausea  in  the  stom- 
ach, and  to  redden  and  inflame  the  eyes.3 

3.  Vaporous  winds  do  not  appear  to  blow  at  any 

1  Pliny,  ii.  49. 

2  Cf.  Arist.  Prob.  xxvi.  39. ;  and  Solinus  Polyhist.  15. 
*  Cf.  Acosta.  iii.  9.  20. ;  and  Purchas,  v.  785. 


428  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

great   elevation,  though  some  of  them  are   probably 
higher  than  most  clouds. 

So  much  for  the  height ;  now  for  the  latitude  of  the 
winds. 

4.  The  winds  certainly  occupy  very  various  spaces  ; 
sometimes  very  extensive,  and  sometimes  very  narrow 
and  confined.    They  have  been  known  to  cover  a  space 
of  100  miles  within  a  few  hours. 

5.  Free  winds  that  range  over  a  wide  space  are  gen- 
erally strong  and  not  mild.     They  last  generally  for 
about  twenty-four  hours,  and  are  not  rainy.     Confined 
winds  on  the  other  hand  are  either  mild  or  stormy,  but 
always  of  short  duration. 

6.  Periodical  winds  are  itinerant,  and  fill  a  very  ex- 
tensive space. 

7.  Stormy  winds    do   not   travel   far,   though    they 
always  spread  beyond  the  limits  of  the  storm  itself. 

8.  Sea  winds  are  much  more  partial  than  land  winds  ; 
so  that  sometimes  at  sea  a  fresh  breeze  may  be  observed 
to  be  curling  and  ruffling  the  water  in  one  direction, 
while  everywhere  else  the  sea  is  as  calm  and  smooth 
as  a  mirror. 

9.  I   have    before  alluded  to  the   small  whirlwinds 
which   sometimes  play  before    persons    on   horseback, 
almost  like  the  blast  from  a  pair  of  bellows. 

I  now  pass  from  the  latitude  to  the  duration  of  the 
winds. 

10.  Very  strong  winds  continue  longest  at  sea,  where 
there  is  a  plentiful  supply  of  vapours.     On  land  they 
scarce  ever  last  more  than  a  day  and  a  half. 

11.  Very  gentle  winds  do  not  blow  continuously  for 
more  than  three  days,  either  on  land  or  sea. 

12.  The  east  wind,  as  has  been  elsewhere  observed, 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  429 

is  of  longer  duration  than  the  west.  And  also  every 
wind  which  springs  up  in  the  morning  is  more  lasting 
than  one  that  rises  in  the  evening. 

13.  It  is  certain  that  winds  (unless  they  are  mere 
storms)  rise  and  increase  gradually,  but  fall  more 
quickly,  and  sometimes  all  at  once. 

The  /Successions  of  Winds. 
with  reference  to       1.  If  the  wind  follows  the  motion  of  the 

the    19th,  20th,  ,1      ,    •     •/«   •,  £  ,1 

and  2ist Articles  sun,  that  is  it  it  move  from  east  to  south, 
from  south  to  west,  from  west  to  north,  from 
north  to  east,  it  does  not  generally  go  back  ;  or  if  it 
does,  it  is  only  for  a  short  time.  But  if  it  move  con- 
trary to  the  motion  of  the  sun,  that  is  if  it  changes 
from  east  to  north,  from  north  to  west,  from  west  to 
south,  from  south  to  east,  it  generally  returns  to  the 
former  quarter,  at  least  before  it  has  completed  the 
entire  circle. 

2.  If  rain  falls  before  the  wind  commences,  the  wind 
will  last  longer  than  the  rain.     But  if  the  wind  blows 
first  and  is  afterwards  laid  by  rain,  it  does  not  often 
rise  again  ;  and  if  it  does,  it  is  followed  by  fresh  rain. 

3.  If  the  wind  shifts  about  for  a  few  hours  as  if  it 
was  trying  the  different  points,  and  then  commences 
to  blow  constantly  from    one  quarter,  that  wind  will 
last  many  days. 

4.  If  a  south  wind  begin   to  blow  for  two  or  three 
days,  a  north  wind  will  sometimes  rise  directly  after- 
wards.    But  if  there   has  been  a  north  wind  for  as 
many  days,  the  wind  will  blow  for  a  short  time  from 
the  east  before  it  comes  from  the  south.1 

5.  Towards  the  end  of  the  year  and  the  commence- 

l  Arist.  Prob.  xxvi.  49. 


430  TRANSLATION    OF    THE 

ment  of  winter,  if  the  south  wind  blow  first  and  be 
succeeded  by  the  north,  it  will  be  a  severe  winter.1 
But  if  the  north  wind  blow  at  the  commencement  of 
winter,  and  be  succeeded  by  the  south,  the  winter  will 
be  mild  and  warm. 

().  Pliny  quoting  Eudoxus  asserts  that  the  same  series 
of  winds  returns  every  four  years ; 2  which  does  not 
appear  to  be  true,  for  the  revolutions  are  not  so  rapid. 
It  has  been  observed  by  the  diligence  of  some  that  tin 
greater  and  more  remarkable  seasons  of  weather,  as 
great  heats,  great  snows,  great  frosts,  warm  winters, 
and  cold  summers,  generally  come  round  in  a  circuit 
of  thirty-five  years. 

The  Motions  of  Winds. 
with  reference         Men  talk  as  if  the  wind  were  a  bodv 

to   the  22nd,  •  •       <••        i  •  «        »  •  i 

23rd,  24th,        of  itself,  which  of  its  own  force  drove  and 

25th,   26th,  and 

27th  Articles       impelled  the  air  before  it.     And  likewise 

of  Inquiry.  i         '  •        i  i  11  •/>     i 

Transition.  when  it  changes,  they  talk  as  it  the  same 
wind  transferred  itself  to  another  place.  And  when 
the  people  talk  in  this  way,  philosophers  prescribe 
no  remedy  for  such  opinions,  but  they  themselves  talk 
confusedly,  without  opposing  these  errors. 

1.  After  the  inquiry  therefore  into  the  local  origins 
of  the  winds,  I  come  next  to  that  concerning  the  rais- 
ing and  directing  of  their  motion.  In  winds  which 
have  the  commencement  of  motion  in  their  first  im- 
pulse, as  those  which  are  driven  from  above,  or  exhale 
from  the  earth,  the  excitation  of  motion  is  manifest. 
The  former  descend,  the  latter  ascend  at  their  com- 
mencements, and  afterwards  acquire  a  winding  motion 
i  Arist  Prob.  xxvi.  48.  2  Pliny,  ii.  48. 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  431 

from  the  resistance  of  the  air,  principally  according  to 
the  angles  of  their  force.  But  the  inquiry  concerning 
the  winds  which  are  stirred  up  everywhere  in  the  lower 
air,  (and  are  the  commonest  winds  of  all,)  is  more  ob- 
scure. And  yet,  as  has  been  observed  in  the  specula- 
tion on  the  eighth  article,  the  thing  itself  is  common 

O  '  O 

and  familiar. 

2.  There  is  some  resemblance  to  this  thing  in  that 
experiment  of  the  close  tower  wrhich  has  been  described 
before.     For  that  experiment  was  varied  in  three  ways. 
The  first  was  that  already  mentioned,  by  means  of  a 
chafing  dish  of  ignited  and  bright  coals.     The  second 
was  by  removing  the  chafing  dish,  and  substituting  a 
kettle  of  boiling  water,  which  made  the  motion  of  the 
cross  of  feathers  slower  and  less  active  than  before  ;  as 
the  heat  was  not  strong  enough  to  prevent  the   dewy 
vapour  of  the  water  from  hanging  in  the  air,  and  could 
not  dissipate  it  into  the  matter  of  wind.     The  third 
was  by  the  use  of  both  the  chafing  dish  and  the  kettle, 
which  most  of  all  agitated  the  cross  of  feathers  ;    so 
that  it  appeared  sometimes  to  be  lifted  up  as  by  a  small 
whirlwind.     For  now  there  was  both  the  wateT  to  sup- 
ply plenty  of  vapour,  and  the  chafing  dish  at  hand  to 
dissipate  it. 

3.  From  this  it  appears  that  the  overcharging  the 
air  by  the  resolution  of  vapour  into  air  is  a  principal 
cause  of  exciting  motion  in  the  winds. 

I  must  now  pass  on  to  the  direction  of  motion,  and 
its  verticity  or  change  of  direction. 

4.  The  direction  of  the  progressive  motion  of  the 
winds  is  controlled  by  the  nurseries,  which  are  to  winds 
what  fountains  are  to  rivers.     Such  are  places  which 
abound  in  vapours  ;  for  there  is  the  native  country  of 


432  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

the  winds.  Now  when  they  have  found  a  current, 
where  the  air  offers  no  resistance,  (as  water  finds  a 
declivity,)  they  unite  with  all  the  homogeneous  matter 
they  find  in  their  course,  and  carry  it  off  with  them,  as 
rivers  do.  Winds  therefore  always  blow  from  the  quar- 
ter where  their  nurseries  lie. 

5.  When  the  winds  have  no  special  nurseries  in  any 
fixed  spot,  they  become  exceedingly  erratic  and  easily 
change  their  current ;  as  may  be  seen  in  the  middle  of 
the  sea  and  in  wide  plains. 

6.  When  the  winds  have  great  nurseries  in  one  spot, 
but  receive   small  accessions  from  the  places  through 
which   they  journey,  they  blow  strongly  at  first,  but 
gradually   slacken.      On   the    other    hand  when    the 
nurseries  are  more  continuous,  the  winds  are  gentler 
at  first,  but  afterwards  increase. 

7.  The  winds  have  movable  nurseries  in  the  clouds, 
which  are   often   transported  by  the  upper  winds  to 
places  far  distant  from  the   nurseries  of  the  vapours 
from  which  those  clouds  were  generated.     But  in  this 
case  there  begins  to  be  a  nursery  of  the  wind  on  that 
side  where  the  clouds  are  first  turned  into  wind. 

8.  The  verticity  of  the  winds  is  not  caused  by  a 
wind  transporting  itself  while  it  is  blowing,  but  by  its 
either  falling  of  itself,  or  being  overpowered  by  another 
wind.     And  all  this  depends  on  the  different  situations 
of  the  nurseries  of  winds,  and  the  different  times  and 
seasons  when  the  vapours  emanating  from  these  nur- 
series are  resolved. 

9.  If  there  be  nurseries  of  winds  on  opposite  sides, 
that  is,  if  one  be  in  the  north,  the  other  in  the  south, 
the  stronger  wind  will  prevail,  and  will  blow  contin- 
uously without  any  contrary  winds,  but  somewhat  dead- 


\ 

"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  433 

ened  and  subdued  by  the  weaker  one  ;  in  the  same 
way  as  the  force  of  the  tide  is  affected  by  the  stream 
of  a  river ;  for  the  motion  of  the  sea  does  prevail,  and 
becomes  the  only  motion,  yet  it  is  somewhat  checked 
by  the  course  of  the  river.  But  if  the  stronger  of 
these  two  contrary  winds  happens  to  fall,  the  wind  will 
at  once  spring  up  from  the  opposite  quarter  whence  it 
before  blew,  though  it  had  been  made  imperceptible 
by  the  power  of  the  stronger. 

10.  For  instance,  if  there  be  a  nursery  of  wind  in 
the  north-east,  the  north-east  wind  will  blow.     But  if 
there  be  two  nurseries,  one  to  the  east,  the  other  to  the 
north,  the  winds  will  blow  separate  for  some  distance 
up  to  the  point  of  confluence  ;  and  then  they  will  set 
in  from  the  north-east,  or  with  an  inclination  in  the 
direction  of  the  stronger. 

11.  If  the  stronger  nursery  of  wind  be  to  the  north, 
twenty  miles  distant  from  any  country,  and  the  weaker 
one  be  to  the  east  only  ten  miles  off,  the  east  wind  will 
blow  for  some  hours  ;  but  soon  afterwards  the  north 
wind  will  arrive  and  supersede  it. 

12.  If  the  north  wind  be  blowing  and  fall  in  with  a 
mountain  on  the  west  side,  it  will  soon  change  to  north- 
east ;  that  is,  to  a  compound  of  the  original  and  reflected 
wind. 

13.  If  there  be  a  land  nursery  of  winds  to  the  north, 
and  the  blast  from  it  go  straight  up,  and  meet  with  a 
cold  cloud  from  the  west  which  drives  it  to  the  oppo- 
site point,  it  will  blow  from  the  north-east. 

Admonition.  The  nurseries  of  the  winds  on  sea  and 
land  are  stationary,  so  that  their  birthplace  and  origin 
may  be  better  discovered.  But  the  nurseries  in  the 
clouds  are  movable,  so  that  the  matter  of  winds  is 

VOL.    IX.  28 


484  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 

supplied  in  one  place,  while  they  are  formed  else- 
where.    And  this  accounts  for  the  direction  of  mo- 
tion in  the  winds  being  more  variable  and  confused. 
These  are  adduced  by  way  of  example ;  but  the  like 
holds  in  like  cases.     And  so  much  for  the  direction  of 
the  motion  of  winds.    But  we  must  see  further  respect- 
ing the  longitude  and  as  it  were  the  voyage  of  winds, 
though  this  may  seem  to  have  been  inquired  into  a  lit- 
tle before  under  the  title  of  latitude.      For  if  winds 
occupy  greater  spaces  latitudinally  than  longitudinally, 
their  breadth  may  be  mistaken  for  their  length. 

14.  If  it  be  true  that  Columbus  on  the  coast  of 
Portugal    inferred    the    existence    of   a   continent   in 
America   from   the    periodical  westerly  winds,   winds 
would  certainly  appear  to  travel  a  very  long  way. 

15.  If  it  be  true  that  the  melting  of  the  snows  about 
the  Arctic  Sea  and  Scandinavia  causes  north  winds  to 
blow  in  Italy  and  Greece  during  the  dog  days,  that 
certainly  is  a  great  distance. 

16.  The  comparative  rapidity  with  which  weather 
travels  in  the  direction  of  the  different  winds  has  not 
as  yet  been  observed ;  for  instance,  how  much  quicker 
a  storm  comes  up  from  the  east  with  an  easterly  wind ; 
how  much  slower  from  the  west. 

And  so  much  for  the  progressive  motion  of  winds ; 
we  must  now  look  to  their  undulation. 

17.  The  undulation  of  winds  is  a  momentary  action  ; 
for  even  a  strong  wind  will  rise  and  fall  alternately  at 
least  a  hundred  times  in  an  hour;  which  shows  how 
unequal  the  force  of  the  winds  is.     For  neither  rivers, 
though  rapid,  nor  currents  at  sea,  though  strong,  have 
any  undulation  at  all,  except  when  the  wind   blows. 
And  this  undulation  of  the  winds  has  no  equality  in 


"HISTORIA   VENTORUM."  435 

it,  but  is  like  the  pulse,  sometimes  double  and  some- 
times intermittent. 

18.  The  undulation  of  the  air  differs  from  that  of 
the  water  in  this ;  in  water  the   waves  rise,  but  fall 
again    spontaneously   to   a  level  ;    so    that  (notwith- 
standing  the  lofty  expressions  of  the  poets  concern- 
ing storms,  "  that  the  waves  rise  to  heaven  and  sink 
to  hell,'')  they  do  not  fall  much  below  the  level  sur- 
face of  the  water.     But  in  the  undulation  of  the  air, 
where  there  is  no  motion  of  gravity,  the  air  is  raised 
and   depressed    almost    equally.      And    so   much   for 
undulation.      We   must   now  inquire    concerning   the 
motion  of  conflict. 

19.  I   have   already  partly  inquired  into  the  con- 
flicts  and   compound   currents    of   the    winds.      It   is 
manifest  that  winds,  especially  the   milder  ones,   are 
ubiquitous  ;    as  is  likewise   proved   by   the  fact   that 
there   are   few  days   or   hours   wherein    some   gentle 
breezes  do  not  blow  in  open  places  ;    and  that  with 
great  irregularity  and  variety.     For  the  winds  which 
do  not  proceed  from  the  larger  nurseries  are  erratic 
and  changeable ;  sometimes  propelling  and  sometimes 
flying  from  one  another,  as  if  in  sport. 

20.  Two  contrary  winds  are  sometimes  observed  to 
meet  together  at  sea ;  as  is  shown  by  the  ruffling  of 
the  surface  of  the  water  on  both  sides,  and  the  still- 
ness between  them.     After  the  collision,  if  the  winds 
break  each  other  equally,  a  general  calm  ensues  ;  but 
if  the    stronger    wind   prevail,    the    agitation    of   the 
water  is  continued. 

21.  It  is  certain  that  in  Peru  winds  often  blow  from 
one  quarter  on  the  mountains,  and  directly  contrary 
in  the  vallies. 


436  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

22.  It  is  likewise  certain  that  with  us  the  clouds 
move  in  a  direction  contrary  to  the  wind  here  below. 

23.  Again,  the  higher  clouds  are  sometimes  seen  to 
scud  over  the  lower ;  so  as  to  pass  in  different  and 
even  contrary  directions,  as  if  driven  by  opposite  cur- 
rents. 

24.  It  is  likewise  certain  that  in  the  upper  air  the 
winds  sometimes  are  neither  distracted  nor  impelled, 
while  half  a  mile  below  they  are  driven  along  in  mad 
fury. 

25.  Contrariwise    also,   there    is  sometimes  a  calm 
below  when   the   clouds   are   moving  rapidly  above ; 
but  this  is  less  common. 

indirect  phe-         In   the   waves    likewise,   sometimes   the 

norueuon.  -111 

water  on  the  top,  sometimes  that  below 
moves  the  quickest ;  and  sometimes  (though 
rarely)  there  are  different  currents  of  wa- 
ter, the  one  above  and  the  other  below. 

26.  We  should  not  altogether  neglect  the  testimony 
of  Virgil,  seeing  he  was  by  no  means  ignorant  of  nat- 
ural philosophy  ;  "  At  once  the  winds  rush  forth,  the 
east,  and  south,  and  south-west  laden  with  storms  ;  "  l 
and  again,  "I  have  seen  all  the  battles  of  the  winds 
meet  together  in  the  air." 2     So  far  then  have  I  in- 
quired concerning  the  motions  of  the  winds  in  nature. 
I  must  now  look  to  their  motion  in  machines  of  human 
invention ;  and  above  all  in  the  sails  of  ships. 

The  Motion  of  Winds  in  the  Sails  of  Ships. 
1.  The  largest  British  ships  (for  I  take  them  as  my 

l  Una  Eurusque  Notusque  ruunt,  creberque  procellis 

Africus.  —  jEn.  \.  85. 
8  Omnia  ventorum  concurrere  praelia  vidi.  —  Georg.  i.  318. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  437 

example)  have  four  and  sometimes  five  masts ;  all 
standing  erect  one  behind  the  other  in  a  straight  line 
drawn  through  the  centre  of  the  vessel. 

2.  The  names  of  these  masts  are ;  the  mainmast  in 
the  centre,  the  foremast,  the  mizenmast  (which  is  some- 
times double),  and  the  bowsprit. 

3.  Each  mast  consists  of  several  parts,  two  or  three 
in  number,  which  may  be  raised,  and  by  certain  knots 
or  joints  fixed  in  their  place,  and  in  like  manner  taken 
down. 

4.  The  bowsprit  from  its  lower  fastening  is  inclined 
towards  the  sea,  from  its  upper  fastening  it  is  erect. 
All  the  other  masts  are  perpendicular. 

5.  These  masts  are  rigged  with  ten  sails,  and  when 
the  mizenmast  is  double,  with  twelve.     The  mainmast 
and  the  foremast  have  three  tiers  of  sails,  which  we  call 
the  mainsail,  the  topsail,  and  the  top-gallantsail.     The 
others  have  only  two  sails,  being  without  the  top-gal- 
lantsail. 

6.  The  sails  are  extended  crossways,  near  the  top  of 
each  joint  of  the  mast,  by  pieces  of  timber  which  we 
call  yards.     To  these  the  upper  part  of  the  sail  is 
stitched,   while   the  lower  part  is  tied  with  ropes  at 
the  corners  only;  and  in  this  fashion  the  mainsail  is 
attached  to  the  sides  of  the  ship,  the  topsail  and  the 
top-gallantsail  to  the  yards  contiguous  to  them.     The 
same  ropes  serve  to  draw  or  turn  them  to  either  side 
at  pleasure. 

7.  The  yard  of  each  mast  stretches  in  a  horizontal 
direction  ;    except   that   of   the    mizenmast,   which   is 
slanted,    with    one    end    elevated   and   the   other   de- 
pressed.    The  rest  are   at  right  angles  to  the  mast, 
like  the  cross  of  the  letter  T. 


438  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

8.  The    mainsails  of   the    mainmast,    foremast   and 
bowsprit,    are    of    a    quadrangular    or    parallelogram 
shape ;  and  the  top  and  top-gal  Ian  tsails  are  somewhat 
sharpened  and  pointed  ;  but  in  the  mi/enmast  the  top- 
sail is  pointed  and  the  mainsail  triangular. 

9.  In  a  ship  of  1100  tons,  112  feet  long  in  the  keel, 
and  40  feet  wide  in  the  hold,  the  mainsail  of  the  main- 
mast was  42  feet  deep  and  87  feet  wide. 

10.  The  topsail  of  the  same  mast  was  50  feet  deep, 
84  feet  wide  at  the  base,  and  42  at  the  top. 

11.  The  top-gallantsail  was  27  feet  deep,  42  feet 
wide  at  the  base,  and  21  at  the  top. 

12.  The  mainsail  of  the  foremast  was  40^  feet  deep, 
and  72  feet  wide. 

13.  The  topsail  was  46i  feet  deep,  69  feet  wide  at 
the  base,  and  36  at  the  top. 

14.  The  top-gallantsail  was  24  feet  deep,  36  feet 
wide  at  the  base,  and  18  at  the  top. 

15.  The  mainsail  of  the  mizenmast  was,  from  the 
upper  point  of  the  yard-arm,  51  feet  deep,  its  width 
where  it  is  joined  to  the  yard-arm  wras  72  feet,  the 
other  part  ending  in  a  point. 

16.  The  topsail  was  30  feet  deep,  57  feet  wide  at 
the  base,  and  30  at  the  top. 

17.  If  there  are  two  mizenmasts,  the   sails  of  the 
hindmost  are  about  one  fifth  less  than  those  of  the 
foremost. 

18.  The  mainsail  of  the  bowsprit  was  28^  feet  deep, 
and  60  feet  in  width. 

19.  The  topsail  was  25£  feet  deep,  60  feet  wide  at 
the  base,  and  30  at  the  top. 

20.  The  proportions  of  sails  and  masts  vary  not  only 
according  to  the  size  of  the  ship,  but  also  according  to 


"  HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  439 

the  various  purposes  for  which  they  are  built,  as 
whether  for  war,  traffic,  speed,  and  the  like.  But  the 
dimension  of  the  sails  is  no  way  proportioned  to  the  ton- 
nage of  the  vessel ;  for  a  vessel  of  500  tons  or  there- 
abouts will  carry  the  mainsail  of  its  mainmast  only  a 
few  square  feet  less  than  that  other  which  was  twice 
the  size.  And  hence  it  is  that  small  vessels  sail  much 
faster  than  large  ones,  not  only  by  reason  of  their  light- 
ness, but  by  reason  of  the  size  of  their  sails  in  compar- 
ison with  the  body  of  the  ship  ;  for  if  this  proportion 
were  kept  in  large  vessels  the  sails  would  be  too  large 
and  unmanageable. 

21.  As  every  sail  is  stretched  out  straight  at  the  top, 
and  only  fastened  by  the  corners  at  the  bottom,  they 
must  necessarily  be  all  swollen  out  by  the  wind ;  es- 
pecially towards  the  bottom  where  they  are  slackest. 

22.  The  swell  is  much  greater  in  the  mainsails  than 
in  the  rest ;  not  only  because  they  are  of  a  parallelo- 
gram shape,  and  the  others  pointed  ;  but  also  because 
the  width  of  the  yard-arm  so  far  exceeds  the  width  of 
the   sides  of  the  vessel,  to  which  they  are  fastened. 
For  this  makes  them  so  slack  as  to  present  a  great 
hold  to  the  wind ;    so  that  in  the  large   vessel  here 
chosen   as  a  model,  the  swell  of  the  sail  inwards  in 
sailing  before   the  wind  may  be  as  much  as  nine  or 
ten  feet. 

23.  From  the  same  cause  likewise  all  sails  swollen 
by  the  wind  become  arched   at   the    bottom,  so   that 
much  of  the  wind  must  necessarily  miss  them.    In  the 
above  mentioned  vessel  this  arch  is  almost  equal  to  the 
stature  of  a  man. 

24.  The  swell  in  the  triangular  sail  of  the  mizen- 
mast  is  necessarily  less  than  in  a  quadrangular  sail  ; 


440  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

both  because  it  is  of  a  less  capacious  shape,  and  be- 
cause in  a  quadrangular  figure  three  sides  are  slack,  in 
a  triangular  one  only  two ;  whence  it  is  more  stiff  for 
the  reception  of  the  wind. 

25.  The  nearer  the  wind's  motion  approaches  to  the 
head  of  the  ship,  the  more  powerful  and  propellent  it 
becomes  ;  because  it  comes  at  a  place  where  the  waves 
are  most  easily  divided,  by  reason  of  the  sharpness  of 
the   bow,  but  principally  because  the   motion   at  the 
head  of  the  vessel  draws  the  ship  along,  the  motion  at 
the  stern  only  pushes  her. 

26.  Ships  are  better  propelled  by  the  motion  of  the 
wind  in  the  upper  than  in  the  lower  tiers  of  sails ;  be- 
cause violent  motion   is  most  powerful  when  furthest 
removed  from   the  resistance  ;  as  is  shown  in  levers 
and  the  sails  of  windmills.     But  it  endangers  the  sink- 
ing or  upsetting  of  the  ship,  and  therefore  these  sails 
are  sharpened  at  the  point,  that  they  may  not  catch 
too  much  wind ;  and  they  are  principally  used  when 
there  is  little  wind. 

27.  When  the  sails  are  placed  in  a  straight  line,  one 
behind  the  other,  if  the  wind  blow  straight  from   be- 
hind, the  hindmost  must  needs  steal  all  the  wind  from 
those  before  them  ;  so  that  if  all  the  sails  were  spread 
at  once,  the  force  of  the  wind  would  be  almost  entirely 
spent  on  the  sails  of  the  mainmast,  with  little  help  from 
die  mainsail  of  the  bowsprit. 

28.  In  a  ship  sailing  straight  before  the  wind,  the 
best  and  most  commodious  disposition  of  the  sails  is  to 
hoist  the  two  lower  sails  of  the  foremast  (for  there  the 
motion  has  been  stated  to  be  most  powerful),  and  also 
the  topsail  of  the   mainmast.     For  there  will  be  space 
enough  left  below  to  allow  the  wind  to  fill  the  afore- 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  441 

mentioned  sails  of  the  foremast,  without  any  consider- 
able loss. 

29.  In  consequence  of  this  stealing  of  the  wind  by 
one  sail  from  another,  a  ship  will  sail  faster  with  a  side 
wind  than  with  a  direct  one.     For  with  a  side  wind 
all  the  sails  may  be  crowded  ;  because  they  all  turn 
their  sides  to  one  another,  without  one  standing  in  the 
way  of  the  other,  or  stealing  the  wind  from  it. 

30.  With  a  side  wind  likewise  the  sails  are  stretched 
tighter  against  the  wind,  which   somewhat  compresses 
it,  and  impels  it  to  that  part  where  it  ought  to  blow ; 
whereby  it   receives    some    additional  strength.     The 
most  favourable    wind  however   is   that  which  blows 
half  way  between  a  fore  wind  and  a   side   one. 

31.  The  mainsail  of  the  bowsprit  can  scarcely  ever 
be  useless  ;  for,  as  it  collects  all  the  wind  that  blows 
everywhere  round  the   sides  of  the  ship  and  beneath 
the  other  sails,  it  does  not  suffer  from  being  robbed. 

32.  In  the  motion  of  winds  in  ships,  both  impulse 
and  direction  are  regarded.     But  direction  by  the  rud- 
der does  not  much  belong  to  the  present  inquiry,  ex- 
cept so  far  as  it  is  connected  with  the  motion  of  winds 
in  the  sails. 

Transition.  As  the  motion  of  impulse  is  greatest  at 
the  head,  so  the  motion  of  direction  is  greatest  at 
the  stern.  And  therefore  the  mainsail  of  the  mizen- 
mast  contributes  most  thereto,  and  supplies  an  auxil- 
iary power  to  the  rudder. 

33.  The  mariner's  compass  being  divided  into  thirty- 
two  points,  and  each  semicircle   containing  sixteen,  a 
vessel  may  sail  straight  forward  (without  tacking,  as  is 


442  TRANSLATION  OF    THE 

usual  when  the  winds  are  directly  contrary),  even 
though  of  these  sixteen  points  ten  are  opposite,  and 
only  six  favourable ;  but  this  navigation  greatly  de- 
pends on  the  mainsail  of  the  mizenmast.  For  the 
points  of  the  wind  which  are  contrary  to  the  ship's 
course,  being  the  stronger  and  beyond  the  control  of 
the  helm  alone,  would  turn  the  other  sails  together 
with  the  ship  itself  into  the  contrary  direction  ;  did  not 
this  sail,  being  tightly  stretched,  act  the  other  way, 
and  by  favouring  and  strengthening  the  motion  of  the 
helm,  turn  and  bring  round  the  head  of  the  vessel  to 
its  right  course. 

34.  All   wind  in  the   sails  somewhat  weighs  down 
and  sinks   the   ship  ;  and  this  the  more,  as  the  wind 
comes  more  from  above.     And  this  is  the  reason  why 
in  heavy  storms  they  first  lower  the  yards,  and  furl  the 
topsails ;  and  then,  if  it  is  necessary  they  take  down 
all  the  rest,  cut  down  the  masts  themselves,  and  throw 
overboard  their  cargo,  guns,  &c.,  to  lighten  the  ship, 
that  she  may  float  and  follow  the  motion  of  the  waves. 

35.  With  a  fresh  and  favourable  breeze,  a  merchant 
vessel  may  sail  120  Italian  miles  in  twenty -four  hours, 
by  means  of  this  motion  of  the  winds  ;  and  some  packet 
bjats  called  caravels,  built  entirely  for  speed,  will  ac- 
complish a  still  greater  distance.     When  the  winds  are 
directly  contraiy,  they  have  this  last  but  feeble  resource 
to  make  some  way ;  which  is,  they  proceed  sideways, 
according  as  the  wind  will  permit,  out  of  their  course, 
and  then  by  an  angular  movement  they  bear  up  again 
into  it ;  and  continuing  this  mode  of  progi'ession  (which 
is  slower  than  that  of  the   serpent,  for  serpents  make 
folds,  whereas  they  make  angles),  they  will  perhaps 
contrive  to  make  15  miles  in  twenty-four  hours. 


"HISTORIA   VENTOKUM."  443 

Major   Observations. 

1.  The  motion  of  winds  in  the  sails  of  vessels  has 
three  principal  heads  and  fountains  of  impulse,  from 
whence  it  springs.     From  these  likewise  we  may  de- 
rive rules  for  increasing  and  strengthening  it. 

2.  The  first  source  is  from  the  quantity  of  wind  re- 
ceived.   For  no  one  doubts  that  much  wind  contributes 
more    than  little ;    and  therefore    a   quantity  of  wind 
must  be  carefully  procured.     This  we  shall  do,  if  like 
prudent  stewards  we  are  economical  and  guard  against 
robbery.     Therefore,  as  far  as  possible,  take  care  that 
no  wind  is  lost,  wasted,  or  stolen. 

3.  The  wind  blows  either  above  the  ship's  sides,  or 
below  them  as  far  as  the  level  of  the  sea.     And  as 
provident  men  are  very  careful  even  about  the  smallest 
matters  (for  there  is  no  one  who  does  not  care  for  the 
larger   ones)  ;  so   we  must  first  observe  these  lower 
winds,  though  indisputably  they  are  less  powerful  than 
the  higher  ones. 

4.  With  regard  to  the  winds  that  play  chiefly  about 
the  sides  and  under  the  sails  of  ships,  it  is  clearly  the 
business  of  the  mainsail  of  the  bowsprit,  which  is  bent 
low  and  slanting,  to  catch  them,  and  so  prevent  any 
loss  or  waste  of  wind.     And  this  is  both  a  help  in  itself, 
and  yet  it  does  not  hinder  the  winds  which  supply  the 
other  sails.     On  this  point  I  do  not  see  how  human  in- 
dustry can  improve  ;  unless  perhaps  the  same  kind  of 
low  sails  were  to  be  used  as  feathers  or  wings  from  the 
centre  of  the  ship ;  two  on  each  side,  when  the  wind 
blows  straight  from  behind. 

5.  With  regard  to  the  prevention  of  robbery  of  the 
foresails  by  the  backsails,  in  sailing  straight  before  the 


444  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 

wind  (for  with  a  side  wind  all  sails  co-operate),  I  do 
not  see  what  human  care  can  do ;  unless  it  be  to  make 
a  kind  of  ladder  of  sails  ;  in  which  the  sails  of  the 
mizenmast  should  hang  lowest,  those  of  the  mainmast 
next,  and  those  of  the  foremast  highest.  For  in  this 
way  one  sail  would  not  hinder  but  rather  assist  an- 
other, by  passing  on  and  transmitting  the-  wind.  Let 
these  observations  then  suffice  for  the  first  fountain  of 
impulse. 

6.  The  second  fountain  of  impulse  springs  from  the 
manner  in  which  the  wind  strikes    the    sail.     For  if 
by  reason  of  the  contraction  of  the  wind  the  blow  be 
sharp  and  quick,  the  motion  will  be  greater ;  but  if  it 
be  dull  and  feeble,  the  motioti  will  be  less. 

7.  And  in  relation  to  this,  it  is  of  very  great  impor- 
tance that  the  sails  should  only  have  a  moderate  swell 
and  extension.     For  if  they  be  stretched  tight,  they 
act  like  a  wall  to  repel  the  wind  ;  if  they  be  slack,  they 
make  the  impulse  feeble. 

8.  With  regard  to  this,  in   some   things  human  in- 
dustry has  acquitted  itself  well,  though  rather  by  ac- 
cident than   by  judgment.     For  in  a  side  wind  they 
draw  in  as  much  as  possible  the  part  of  the  sail  opposite 
to  the  wind  ;  and  thereby  they  drive  the  wind  to  that 
part  where  it  ought  to  blow.     This  indeed  they  do  in- 
tentionally.    But  another  effect  (which  perhaps  they 
do  not  see)  is,  that  the  wind  is  more  contracted  and 
makes  the  impulse  sharper. 

9.  I  do  not  see  what  human  industry  can  add  to  this 
part ;  unless  it  be  to  alter  the  shape  of  the  sails,  and 
make  some  of  them  to  swell,  not  spherically  but  in  the 
shape  of  a  spur  or  triangle  with  a  yard  or  pole  in  the 
vertical  angle ;  so  that  the  wind   may  be   contracted 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  445 

more  to  a  point  and  the  external  air  may  be  cut  more 
powerfully.  And  this  angle  in  my  opinion  ought  not 
to  be  acute,  but  like  a  triangle  with  the  vertex  cut 
off  to  make  it  wide.  Nor  do  I  know  what  advantage 
there  might  be  in  having  a  sail  within  a  sail ;  that  is, 
in  inserting  in  the  middle  of  a  large  sail  a  kind  of 
purse,  not  altogether  slack  of  simple  canvass,  but  with 
ribs  of  wood,  so  as  to  catch  the  wind  in  the  middle  of 
the  sail  and  draw  it  to  a  point. 

10.  The  third  fountain  of  impulse  depends  on  the 
place  where  the  percussion  is  made,  and  is  of  two  kinds. 
For  the  impulse  is  stronger  and  easier  at  the  fore  part 
of  the  vessel  than  at  the  hinder ;  and  from  the  upper 
part  of  the  masts  and  sails  than  from  the  lower. 

11.  Neither  has  this  escaped  the  industry  of  man ; 
for  both  in  sailing  before  the  wind  they  put  the  greatest 
stress  on  the  sails  of  the  foremast,  and  in  calms  they  do 
not  neglect  to  spread  their  top-gallantsails.     Nor  can  I 
think  at  present  of  any  further  improvement  open  to 
human  industry  in  this  point ;  unless  it  be,  in  the  first 
case,  to  put  in  two  or  three  foremasts,  (the  centre  one 
upright,  the    others  inclined)  with   sails   hanging  for- 
ward ;  and  in  the  second  case  to  broaden  the  top-gal- 
lantsails of  the  foremast,  and  make  them  less  pointed 
than  usual.     But  in  both  cases  there  should  be  great 
care  not  to  sink  the  ship  too  much. 

The  Motion  of   Winds  in  other  Machines  of  Human 
Invention. 

1.  There  is  nothing  veiy  intricate  in  the  motion  of 
windmills,  but  yet  it  is  not  generally  well  demonstrated 
or  explained.  The  sails  stand  right  opposite  the  wind 
that  is  blowing  ;  one  side  however  turning  more  to  the 


±46  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

wind,  and  the  other  gradually  inclining  and  receding 
from  it.  The  turning  or  revolving  motion  alwavs  com- 

v 

mences  on  the  lower  side,  that  is,  the  one  furthest  from 
the  wind.  The  wind  rushing  against  the  machine  is 
compressed  by  the  four  sails,  and  compelled  to  make  a 
passage  through  the  four  openings  between  them.  But 
this  confinement  it  does  not  willingly  submit  to ;  so 
that  it  begins  as  it  were  to  jog  the  sides  of  the  sails  and 
turn  them  round,  as  children's  toys  are  set  in  motion 
and  turned  by  the  finger. 

2.  If  the  sails  were  stretched  out  equally,  it  would 
be  uncertain  which  side  they  would  incline,  as  it  is  a 
question  which  way  a  stick  would  fall.     As  however 
the  side  which  meets  the  wind '  throws  off  the  force  of 
the  wind  to  the  lower  side,  and  thence  through  the 
vacant  intervals  ;  and  as  the  lower  side,  like  the  palm 
of  the  hand  or  the  sail  of  a  ship,  receives  the  wind,  the 
rotation  forthwith  commences  from  that  part.     But  it 
should  be  observed  that  the  origin  of  motion  is  not  from 
the  first  impulse  which  is  made  in  front,  but  from  the 
lateral  impulse,  after  compression  has  taken  place. 

3.  I  have  made  several  trials  and  experiments  for 
increasing  this  motion,  both  as  a  token  that  the  cause 
has  been  well  discovered,  and  for  present  use  ;   con- 
triving imitations  of  the  motion  by  means  of  paper  sails 
and  the  wind  from  a  pair  6f  bellows.     Accordingly,  to 
the  lower  side  of  the  sail  I  fastened  an  additional  fold, 
turned  away  from  the  wind,  that  the  wind  being  now 
directed  from  the  side  might  have  a  larger  surface  to 
strike   against.     But  this  did  no  good  ;  for  the  extra 
fold  did  not  so  much  assist  the  percussion  of  the  wind, 
as  it  impeded  the  cutting  of  the  air  by  the  sails.     At 
some  distance  behind  the  sails,  and  the  whole  breadth 


"HISTORIA  VENTOKUM."  447 

of  their  diameter,   I  placed  obstacles,  that  the  wind 
being  more  compressed  might  strike  with  greater  force  ; 
but  this  did  more  harm  than  good,  as  the  repercussion 
deadened  the  primary  motion.     Again  I  made  the  sails 
double  their  former  width,  to  compress  the  wind  more, 
and  make  the  lateral  percussion  stronger.     This  at  last 
was  completely  successful,  for  the   sails  were  turned 
with  a  much  gentler  blast,  and  revolved  much  faster, 
injunctions.       1.  This  increase  of  motion  will  perhaps 
be  produced  more  conveniently  by  eight  sails,  than 
by  four  sails  of  double  breadth ;   unless  by  chance 
the  weight  should  be  so  great  as  to  impede  the  mo- 
tion.    But  of  this  make  a  trial. 

2.  The  length  of  the  sails  likewise  contributes  to 
motion.  For  in  rotations  a  little  force  toward  the 
circumference  is  equal  to  a  far  greater  force  towards 
the  centre.  But  to  this  there  is  one  drawback  : 
namely,  that  the  longer  the  sails  are,  the  further 
are  they  separated  at  the  top,  and  the  less  is  the 
wind  compressed.  It  might  perhaps  answer  to  make 
the  sails  a  little  longer,  but  widening  at  the  top  like 
the  blade  of  an  oar.  But  of  this  I  have  made  no 
experiment. 

Admonition.  If  these  experiments  be  put  in  practice 
in  windmills,  the  whole  machine,  especially  its  foun- 
dations, should  be  strengthened.  For  the  more  the 
wind  is  compressed  (though  it  increase  the  motion 
of  the  sails),  yet  the  more  does  it  shake  the  whole 
machine. 

4.  It  is  said  that  in  some  parts  of  the  world  there 
are  chariots  moved  by  the  wind.  Let  this  be  carefully 
inquired. 

injunction.      Chariots  moved  by  the  wind  cannot  an- 


448  TRANSLATION    OF    THE 

swer,  except  in  open  places  and  plains.  Besides, 
what  is  to  be  done  if  the  wind  drops  ?  It  would  be 
more  reasonable  to  facilitate  the  motion  of  waggons 
and  carriages  by  movable  sails  which  might  spare  the 
strength  of  horses  or  oxen,  than  to  depend  upon  the 
wind  alone  for  creating  motion. 

Prognostics  of  Winds. 
with  reference  to      The  purer  part  of  Divination  should  be 

the  32nd  Article 

of  inquiry.          the  more  received  and  practised,  in  propor- 

Transition.  .  .     .  .  ,          ,  , 

tion  as  it  is  wont  in  general  to  be  corrupted 
by  vanity  and  superstition.  Natural  Divination  is  some- 
times more  certain,  sometimes  more  treacherous,  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  of  the  subject  with  which  it  deals. 
For  if  the  subject  be  of  a  constant  and  regular  nature, 
the  prediction  is  certain  ;  if  it  be  of  a  variable  nature, 
and  compounded  as  it  were  of  nature  and  chance,  the 
prediction  is  uncertain.  But  yet  even  in  a  variable 
subject,  if  rules  are  diligently  framed,  a  prediction  will 
generally  hold  good,  and  will  not  err  much  from  the 
truth,  though  it  does  not  hit  the  exact  point  of  time. 
Again,  some  predictions  will  be  certain  enough  as  to 
the  time  of  fulfilment ;  namely,  such  as  are  taken  not 
from  causes,  but  from  the  thing  itself  having  already 
commenced  but  displaying  itself  sooner  in  a  favourable 
and  well  disposed  matter,  than  in  another ;  as  I  have 
mentioned  before,  in  the  topics  with  reference  to  this 
thirty-second  article.  I  will  now  therefore  propound 
the  prognostics  of  Avinds,  introducing  along  with  them 
some  prognostics  of  rain  and  fair  weather,  which  could 
not  well  be  separated  from  them  ;  though  the  full  in- 
quiry thereof  I  remit  to  their  own  proper  titles. 

1.  If  the  sun  appear  concave  at  its  rising,  the  day 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  449 

will  be  windy  or  showery  ;  windy,  if  the  sun  be  only 
slightly  concave,  and  showery,  if  the  concavity  is  deep. 

2.  The  sun  pale  and  (as  we  call  it)  watery  at  its 
rising  denotes  rain  ;  if  it  set  pale,   wind. 

3.  If  the  body  of  the  sun  appear  blood-red  at  set- 
ting, it  forebodes  high  winds  for  many  days. 

4.  If  the  rays  of  the  sun  on  rising  are  not  yellow, 
but  ruddy,   it  denotes  rain   rather  than   wind.     The 
same  likewise  holds  good  of  the  setting. 

5.  If  either  on  rising  or  setting  the  sun's  rays  appear 
shortened  or  contracted,  and  do  not  shine  out  bright, 
though  there  are  no  clouds,  it  denotes  rain  rather  than 
wind. 

6.  If  rays  precede  the  sunrise,  it  is  a  sign  both  of 
wind  and  rain. 

7.  If  at  sunrise  the  sun  emits  rays  from  the  clouds, 
the  middle  of  his  disk  being  concealed  therein,  it  indi- 
cates rain,  especially  if  these  rays  break  out  downwards, 
so  as  to  make  the  sun  appear  bearded.     But  if  rays 
strike  from  the  centre,  or  from  different  parts  of  the 
sun,  whilst  the  outer  circle  of  his  disk  is  covered  with 
clouds,  there  will  be  great  storms  both  of  wind  and 
rain. 

8.  If  there  be  a  circle  round  the  sun  at  rising,  expect 
wind  from  the  quarter  where  the  circle  first  begins  to 
break  ;  but  if  the  whole  circle  disperses  evenly,  there 
will  be  fine  weather. 

9.  A  white  ring  round  the  sun  towards  sunset  por- 
tends a  slight  gale  that  same  night ;  but  if  the  ring  be 
dark  or  tawny,  there  will  be  a  high  wind  the  next  day. 

10.  Red  clouds  at  sunrise  foretel  wind  ;  at  sunset,  a 
fine  day  for  the  morrow. 

11.  Clouds  collected  near  the  sun  at  sunrise  forebode 
VOL.  ix.  29 


450  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

a  rough  storm  that  same  day ;  but  if  they  are  driven 
from  the  east  and  pass  away  to  the  west,  it  will  be 
fine. 

12.  If  at  sunrise  the  clouds  about  the  sun  disperse, 
some  to  the  north  and  some  to  the  south,  though  the 
sky  round  the  sun  itself  is  clear,  it  portends  wind. 

13.  The  sun  setting  behind  a  cloud  forebodes  rain 
the  next  day ;  but  actual  rain  at  sunset  is  rather  a  sign 
of  wind.     If  the  clouds  appear  as  if  they  were  drawn 
towards  the  sun,  it  denotes  both  wind  and  rain. 

14.  If  at  sunrise   the  clouds  do  not  appear  to  sur- 
round the  sun,  but  to  press  upon  him  from  above  as  if 
they  were  going  to  eclipse  him,  a  wind  will  arise  from 
the  quarter  on  which  the  clouds  incline.     If  this  take 
place  at  noon,  the  wind  will  be  accompanied  by  rain. 

15.  If  clouds  shall  have   shut  in   the   sun,  the  less 
light  there  is  left  and  the  smaller  the  sun's  orb  appears, 
the  more  severe  will  the  storm  prove.     But  if  the  disk 
of  the  sun  appear  double  or  treble,  as  if  there  were 
two  or  three  suns,  the  storm  will  be  much  more  vio- 
lent, and  will  last  many  days. 

16.  The  dispositions  of  the  air  are  shown  by  the  new 
moon,  though  still  more  on  the  fourth  rising,  as  if  her 
newness  were  then  confirmed.    But  the  full  moon  itself 
is  a  better  prognostic  than  any  of  the  days  which  suc- 
ceed it. 

17.  From  long  observation,  sailors  suspect  storms  ou 
the  fifth  day  of  the  moon. 

18.  If  the  new  moon  is  not  visible  before  the  fourth 
day,  the  air  will  be  unsettled  for  the  whole  month. 

19.  If  at  her  birth,  or  within  the  first  few  days,  the 
lower  horn  of  the  moon  appear  obscure,  dark,  or  any 
way  discoloured,  there  will  be  foul  and  stormy  weather 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  451 

before  the  full.  If  she  be  discoloured  in  the  middle, 
it  will  be  stormy  about  the  full ;  but  if  the  upper  horn 
is  thus  affected,  about  the  wane. 

20.  If,  on  her  fourth  day,  the  moon  is  clear,  with 
her  horns  sharp,  not  lying  entirely  flat,  nor  standing 
quite  upright,  but  something  between  the  two,  there  is 
a  promise  mostly  of  fair  weather  till  the   next  new 
moon. 

21.  If  on  that  day  she  rises  red,  it  portends  wind ; 
if  reddish  or  dark  coloured,  rain  ;  but  neither  of  these 
portend  anything  beyond  the  full. 

22.  An  erect  moon  is  almost  always  threatening  and 
unfavourable,  but  principally  denotes  wind.     If  how- 
ever she  appear  with  blunt  and  shortened  horns,  it  is 
rather  a  sign  of  rain. 

23.  If  one  horn  of  the  moon  is  sharp  and  pointed, 
the  other  being  more  blunt,  it  rather  indicates  wind ; 
but  if  both  are  so,  it  denotes  rain. 

24.  A  circle  or  halo  round  the  moon  signifies  rain 
rather  than  wind  ;  unless  the  moon  stands  erect  within 
the  ring,  when  both  are  portended. 

25.  Circles  round  the  moon  always  foretel  wind  from 
the  side  where  they  break ;  and  a  remarkable  brilliancy 
in  any  part  of  the  circle  denotes  wind  from  that  quarter. 

26.  Double  or  treble  circles  round  the  moon  fore- 
shadow rough  and  severe  storms  ;  and  much  more  so, 
if  these  circles  are  not  pure  and  entire,  but  spotted  and 
broken. 

27.  Full  moons,  with  regard  to  colours  and  halos, 
have  perhaps  the  same  prognostics  as  the  fourth  risings  ; 
but  the  fulfilment  is  more  immediate  and  not  so  long 
deferred. 

28.  The  weather  is  generally  clearer  at  the  full  than 


452  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 

at  the  other  ages  of  the  moon ;  but  in  winter  the  frost 
then  is  sometimes  more  intense. 

29.  The  moon  appearing  larger  at  sunset,  and  not 
dim  but  luminous,  portends  fair  weather   for   several 
days. 

30.  Eclipses  of  the  moon  are  generally  attended  by 
wind ;  eclipses  of  the  sun  by  fair  weather  ;  but  neither 
of  them  are  often  accompanied  by  rain. 

31.  Wind  must  be  expected  both  before  and  after 
the    conjunctions    of  all    the    other   planets  with   one 
another,  except  the  sun  ;  but  fair  weather  from  their 
conjunctions  with  the  sun. 

32.  Rains  and  showers  follow  upon  the  rising  of  the 
Pleiades  and  Hyades,  but  without  wind  ;  storms  upon 
the  rising  of  Orion  and  Arctiirus. 

33.  Shooting  stars,  as  they  are  termed,  foretel  imme- 
diate winds  from  the  quarter  whence  they  shot.     But 
if  they  shoot  from  different  or  contrary  quarters,  there 
will  be  great  storms  both  of  wind  and  rain. 

34.  When  small  stars,  like  those  called  Aselli,  are 
not  visible  in  any  part  of  the  sky,  there  will  be  great 
storms  and  rains  within  a  few  days  ;  but  if  these  stars 
are  only  obscured  in  places,  and  are  bright  elsewhere, 
they  denote  winds  only ;  but  sooner. 

35.  A  uniform  brightness  in  the  sky  at  the  new 
moon  or  the  fourth  rising  presages  fair  weather  for 
many  days.  If  the  sky  is  uniformly  overcast,  it  de- 
notes rain  ;  if  irregularly  overcast,  wind  from  the  quar- 
ter where  it  is  overcast.  But  if  it  suddenly  becomes 
overcast  without  cloud  or  fog,  so  as  to  dull  the  bright- 

•ess  of  the  stars,  rough  and  serious  storms  are  immi- 

,ent. 

86.  An  entire  circle  round  any  planet  or  larger  star 


"HISTORIA  VENTOUUM."  453 

forebodes  rain  ;  if  the  circle  be  broken,  there  will  be 
wind  from  the  quarter  where  it  breaks. 

37.  When  the  thunder  is  more  continuous  than  the 
lightning,  there  will  be  great  winds ;  but  if  it  lightens 
frequently  between    the   thunder-claps,   there   will  be 
heavy  showers  with  large  drops. 

38.  Thunder  in  the  morning  denotes  winds ;  at  noon, 
showers. 

39.  Rolling  thunder,  which  seems  to  be  passing  on, 
foretels  wind  ;  but  sharp  and  interrupted  cracks  denote 
storms  both  of  wind  and  rain. 

40.  Lightning  in  a  clear  sky  signifies  the  approach 
of  wind  and  rain  from  the  quarter  where  it  lightens  ; 
but  if  it  lightens  in  different  parts  of  the  sky,  there 
will  be  severe  and  dreadful  storms. 

41.  If  the  lightning  is  in  the  colder  quarters  of  the 
heaven,  as  the  north  and  north-east,  hailstorms  will  fol- 
low ;  but  if  in  the  warmer,  as  the  south  and  west,  there 
will  be  showers,  with  a  sultry  temperature. 

42.  Great  heats  after  the  summer  solstice  generally 
end  in  thunderstorms  ;    but  if  these  do  not  come,  in 
wind  and  rain,  which  last  for  many  days. 

43.  The  ball  of  fire,  called  Castor  by  the  ancients, 
that  appears  at  sea,  if  it  be  single,  prognosticates  a  se- 
vere storrn  (seeing  it  is  Castor  the  dead  brother),  which 
will  be  much  more  severe  if  the  ball  does  not  adhere 
to  the  mast,  but  rolls  or  dances  about.     But  if  there 
are  two  of  them  (that  is,  if  Pollux  the  living  brother 
be  present),  and  that  too  when  the  storm  has  increased, 
it  is  reckoned  a  good  sign.     But  if  there  are  three  of 
them  (that  is,  if  Helen,  the  general  scourge,  arrive), 
the  storm  will  become  more  fearful.     The  fact  seems 
to  be,  that  one  by  itself  seems  to  indicate  that  the  tem- 


454  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

pestuous  matter  is  crude  ;  two,  that  it  is  prepared  and 
ripened  ;  three  or  more,  that  so  great  a  quantity  is  col- 
lected as  can  hardly  be  dispersed.1 

44.  If  the  clouds  appear  to  drive  fast  when  there  is 
no  wind,  expect  wind  from  that  quarter  from  which 
they  are  driven.     But  if  they  gather  and  collect  to- 
gether, on  the  sun's  approach  to  that  part,  they  will 
begin  to  disperse  ;  and  then  if  they  disperse  towards 
the  north  it  prognosticates  wind,  if  towards  the  south, 
rain. 

45.  Black  or  dark  clouds  arising  at  sunset  prognosti- 
cate rain  ;  on  the  same  night,  if  they  rise  in  the  east 
opposite  the  sun  ;  if  close  to  the  sun  in  the  west,  the 
next  day,  accompanied  with  wind. 

46.  If  the  sky  clears  and  the  clouds  commence  to 
break  in  the  quarter  opposite  the  wind,  it  will  be  fine ; 
but  if  it  clear  up  to  windward,  it  indicates  nothing, 
and  leaves  the  weather  uncertain. 

47.  Sometimes  the  clouds  appear  to  be  piled  in  sev- 
eral tiers  or  stories,  one  above  the  other  (Gilbert  de- 
clares 2  that  he  has  sometimes  seen  and  observed  five 
together),  whereof  the  lowest  are  always  the  blackest ; 
though  it  sometimes  appears  otherwise,  as  the  whiter 
most  attract  the  sight.     Two  stories,  if  thick,  portend 
instant  rain  (especially  if  the  lower  one  appear  over- 
charged) ;  many  tiers  denote  a  three  days'  rain. 

48.  Fleecy  clouds,  scattered  over  the  sky,  denoto 
storms  ;  but  clouds  which  rest  upon  one  another  like 
scales  or  tiles  portend  dry  and  fine  weather. 

49.  Feathery  clouds,  like  palm  branches  or  the  fleur- 
de-lis,  denote  immediate  or  coming  showers. 

50.  When  mountains  and  hills   appear   capped  by 
i  Pliny,  ii.  37.  2  Gilbert,  Phys.  iv.  1. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  455 

clouds  that  hang  about  and  embrace  them,  storms  are 
imminent. 

51.  Clouds  before  sunset  of  an  amber  or  gold  col- 
our, and  with  gilt  fringes  after  the  sun  has  sunk  lower, 
foretel  fine  weather. 

52.  Clay-coloured  and  muddy  clouds  portend   rain 
and  wind. 

53.  If  a  little  cloud  suddenly  appear  in  a  clear  sky, 
especially  if  it  come  from  the  west,  or  somewhere  in 
the  south,  there  is  a  storm  brewing. 

54.  If  mists  and  fogs  ascend  and  return  upwards, 
they  denote  rain  ;  and  if  this  take  place  suddenly,  so 
that  they  appear  to  be  sucked  up,  they  foretel  winds  ; 
but  if  they  fall  and  rest  in  the  vallies,  it  will  be  fine 
weather. 

55.  A  white  loaded  cloud,  called  by  the  ancients  a 
white  tempest,  is   followed  in  summer  by  showers  of 
very  small  hail ;  in  winter,  by  snow. 

56.  A  calm   autumn   portends  a  windy  winter  ;    a 
windy  winter  a  wet  spring;   a  wet  spring  a   serene 
summer ;  a  serene  summer  a  windy  autumn  ;  so  that 
the  year,  according  to  the  proverb,  is  seldom  its  own 
debtor,  and  the  seasons  are  never  the  same  two  years 
together. 

57.  Fires  burning  paler  than  usual,  and  murmuring 
within,  are   significant  of  storms.     If  the  flame   shoot 
in  a  twisting  and  curling  form,  it  principally  denotes 
wind  ;    but  fungous  growths   or  excrescences    on   the 
wicks  of  lamps  rather  foreshadow  rain. 

58.  Coals,  when  they  burn  very  bright,  foretel  wind ; 
and  likewise  when  they  quickly  cast  off  and  deposit 
their  ashes. 

59.  When  the  surface  of  the  sea  in  harbour  appears 


456  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 

calm,  and  yet  there  is  a  murmuring  noise  within  it, 
although  there  is  no  swell,  a  wind  is  coming. 

60.  The   shores   sounding  in  a  calm,  and   the  sea 
itself  beating   with   a  moaning   or   echo   louder  and 
clearer  than  usual,  are  signs  of  wind. 

61.  If  foam,  white  circles  of  froth,  or  bubbles  of 
water,  appear  here  and  there  on  a  calm  and  smooth 
sea,  they  prognosticate  wind.     If  these  signs  be  more 
striking,  they  denote  severe  storms. 

62.  Glittering  foam  (called  sea-lungs)  in  a  heavy 
sea  foretels  that  the  storm  will  last  for  many  days. 

63.  The   sea   swelling    silently  and    rising    higher 
than  usual    in    the   harbour,    or   the    tide    coming   in 
quicker  than  ordinary,  prognosticates  wind. 

64.  A    sound    from    the    mountains,    an    increasing 
murmur  in  the  woods,  and  likewise  a  kind  of  crash- 
ing noise  in  the  plains,  portend  winds.     An  extraor- 
dinary noise  in  the  sky,  when  there  is  no  thunder, 
is  principally  due  to  winds. 

65.  Leaves  and  straws  playing  in  the  air  when  no 
breeze  is  felt,  the  down  of  plants  flying  about,  and 
feathers  floating  and  playing  on  the  water,  show  that 
winds  are  at  hand. 

66.  Water-fowl  meeting  and  flocking  together,  but 
especially  sea-gulls  and  coots  flying  rapidly  to  shore 
from    the    sea   or   lakes,    particularly  if  they  scream, 
and   playing   on   the  dry  land,   foreshow  wind  ;    and 
this  is  more  certain  if  they  do  it  in  the  morning. 

67.  On  the  other  hand,  land  birds,  especially  crows, 
when  they  go  to  the  water,  beat  it  with  their  wings, 
throw  it  over  them  and  scream,  foreshow  storms. 

68.  Divers  and  ducks  prune  their  feathers  before  a 
wind  ;  but  geese  seem  to  call  down  the  rain  with  their 
importunate  cackling. 


"HISTORIA    VENTORUM."  457 

69.  A  heron,  when  it  soars  high  so  as  sometimes  to 
fly  above  a  low  cloud,  shows  wind;  but  kites  flying 
high  show  fair  weather. 

70.  Ravens,  when  they  croak  continuously,  denote 
wind ;  but  if  the  croaking  is  interrupted  or  stifled,  or 
at  longer  intervals,  they  show  ram. 

71.  The  whooping  of  an  owl  was  thought  by  the 
ancients  to  betoken  a  change  of  weather,  from  fair 
to  wet,  or  from  wet  to  fair.     But  with  us  an  owl, 
when  it  whoops  clearly  and  freely,  generally  shows 
fair  weather,  especially  in  winter. 

72.  If  birds  that  dwell  in  trees  return  eagerly  to 
their  nests,  and  leave  their  feeding  ground  early,  it 
is  a  sign  of  storms ;  but  when  a  heron  stands  melan- 
choly on  the  sand,  or  a  raven  stalks   about,  it  only 
denotes  rain. 

73.  Dolphins  sporting  in  a  calm  sea  are  thought  to 
prognosticate    wind   from    that   quarter   whence    they 
come  ;  but  if  they  play  in  a  rough  sea,  and  throw  the 
water  about,  it  will  be  fine.     Most  other  kinds  of  fish, 
when  they  swim  at  the  top  of  the  water,  or  some- 
times leap  out  of  it,  foretel  rain. 

74.  Swine  are  so  terrified  and  disturbed  and  dis- 
composed when  the  wind  is  getting  up,  that  country- 
men say,  that  this  animal  alone   sees  the  wind,  and 
that  it  must  be  frightful  to  look  at. 

75.  Spiders  work  hard  and  spin  their  webs  a  little 
before  wind,  as  if  desiring  to  anticipate  it ;  for  they 
cannot  spin  when  the  wind  begins  to  blow. 

76.  The  ringing  of  bells  is  heard  at  a  greater  dis- 
tance before  rain  ;  but  before  wind  it  is  heard  more 
unequally,  the  sound  coming  and  going,  as  we  hear 

Q  it  when  the  wind  is  blowing  perceptibly. 


458  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

77.  Pliny  mentions  it  as  a  fact,  that  trefoil  bristles 
and  erects  its  leaves  against  a  storm.1 

78.  He  likewise  asserts,  that  vessels  containing  eat- 
ables  sometimes   leave   a  sweat   behind   them  in  the 
storerooms  ;  and  that  this  is  a  sign  of  fearful  storms. 

Admonition.  Since  rain  and  winds  are  made  of 
nearly  the  same  matter,  and-  since,  by  reason  of  the 
reception  of  the  new-made  air  into  the  old,  some 
condensation  of  the  air  always  takes  place  before 
wind,  as  is  shown  by  the  moaning  of  the  shores, 
the  high  flight  of  the  heron,  and  other  things ;  and 
since  the  air  is  in  like  manner  condensed  before 
rain  (though  when  the  rain  falls  it  is  afterwards 
more  contracted,  when  the  wind  rises  on  the  con- 
trary it  is  more  expanded),  it  must  needs  be  that 
rains  and  winds  have  many  common  prognostics. 
With  reference  to  these  consult  the  Prognostics  of 
Rains  under  their  own  title. 

Imitations  of  Winds. 
with  reference       If  men  could  only  bring  themselves  not 

to  the  33rd  J  &. 

Article  of  in-    to  fix  their  thoughts    too   intently  on    the 

quiry.  *. 

Transition,  consideration  of  the  subject  before  them, 
rejecting  everything  else  as  irrelevant,  and  not  to  re- 
fine with  endless  and  mostly  unprofitable  speculations 
thereon,  they  would  never  be  so  dull  as  they  are  wont 
to  be,  but  by  a  free  passage  and  transference  of  their 
thoughts  they  would  find  many  things  at  a  distance 
which  near  at  hand  are  concealed.  And  therefore, 
in  the  law  of  nature,  as  well  as  in  the  civil  law,  we 
must  proceed  with  sagacity  of  mind  to  look  for  like 
and  analogous  cases. 

i  Pliny,  xi. 


"HISTORIA  VENTOEUM."  45S 

1.  Bellows    are  with    men  as  the   bags    of  ^Eolus, 
whence  a  man  may  draw  wind,  according  to  the  pro- 
portion of  man.     The  passes  and  interstices  of  moun- 
tains, and  the  winding  passages  of  buildings,  are  like- 
wise   nothing  else    than   large    bellows.     Bellows    are 
principally   used  for  rousing  a  flame,  or  blowing  the 
organ.     The  principle  is,  that  they  suck  in  the  air  to 
prevent  a  vacuum  (as  the  saying  is),  and  drive  it  out 
by  compression. 

2.  Hand-fans  are  likewise  used  to  make  a  wind  and 
to  produce  coolness  by  gently  impelling  the  air. 

3.  I  have  already  made  some  observations  on  cooling 
rooms  in  summer,  in  my  reply  to  the  9th  article  of  in- 
quiry.    But  other  and  more  perfect  methods  may  be 
devised,  especially  by  drawing  the  air  in  at  one  part, 
and  discharging  it  at  another,  after  the  manner  of  bel- 
lows.    The  present  methods  only  relate  to  simple  com- 
pression. 

4.  Winds  in  the  bodies  of  men  and  animals  excel- 
lently correspond  to  the  winds  of  the  greater  world. 
For  they  are  both  generated  from  moisture  and  alter- 
nate with  it,  as  winds  and  rains  do  ;  they  are  like- 
wise dissipated  and  made  to  perspire  by  a  strong  heat. 
And  hence  we  may  transfer  this  observation  to  the 
winds  ;  namely,  that  they  are  produced  from  a  matter 
which  yields  a  tenacious  vapour,  that  is  not  easily  re- 
solved ;   as  beans,  pulse,  and  fruit.      And  this  holds 
good  also  in  the  greater  winds. 

5.  In  distilling  vitriol  and  other  fossils  of  a  flatulent 
nature,  very  large  and  capacious  receivers  are  required; 
as  otherwise  they  would  be  broken. 

6.  The  wind  made  by  the  nitre  mixed  in  gunpow- 
der, that  explodes  and  inflates  the  flame,  not  only  imi- 


460  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

tates  but  exceeds  all  other  winds,  except  those  in  thun- 
derstorms. 

7.  The  force  of  this  wind  is  compressed  in  machines 
made  by  man,  as  guns,  mines,  and  powder  magazines 
when  they  blow  up.     But  whether  a  great  quantity  of 
gunpowder  fired  in  the  open  air  would  likewise  by  the 
commotion  of  the  air  raise  a  wind  that  would  last  for 
many  hours,  has  not  yet  been  tried. 

8.  Quicksilver   contains  a  flatulent   and   expansive 
spirit,  so  that  (as  some   maintain)  it  resembles  gun- 
powder,  and   a  little   of   it   mixed   with   gunpowder 
makes  the  powder  stronger.     Chemists  also  say  that 
gold,  in  certain  preparations  of  it,  makes  dangerous 
explosions,  almost  like  thunder.     But  of  these  things 
I  have  no  experience. 

A  Major  Observation. 

The  motion  of  winds  is  in  most  respects  seen  in  the 
motions  of  water,  as  in  a  mirror.1 

Great  winds  are  inundations  of  the  air,  the  resem- 
blance of  which  we  see  in  inundations  of  the  waters ; 
both  arising  from  an  increase  of  quantity. 

Waters  either  descend  from  above  or  spring  from 
the  earth  ;  and  so  some  winds  are  driven  from  above, 
some  rise  from  below. 

Sometimes  there  are  contrary  motions  in  rivers,  the 
tide  flowing  one  way,  the  stream  of  the  river  the  other ; 
and  yet  there  is  only  one  motion,  because  the  course 
of  the  tide  prevails.  And  so,  when  contrary  winds 
blow,  the  greater  subdues  the  less. 

In  currents  of  the  sea  and  of  some  rivers,  it  some- 
times  happens  that  the  stream  at  the  top  of  the  water 

l  Cf.  Aristot.  Problems,  xxvi.  38.,  and  Meteorol.  i.  13. 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  461 

moves  in  a  contrary  direction  to  that  below.  And  so 
in  the  air,  when  contrary  winds  blow  together,  one 
flies  above  the  other. 

There  are  cataracts  of  rain  confined  in  a  narrow 
space ;  so  are  there  whirlwinds. 

Waters,  if  disturbed,  have  an  undulating  besides  a 
progressive  motion  ;  at  one  time  rising  into  ridges,  at 
another  descending  into  furrows.  And  this  likewise 
happens  to  the  winds,  except  that  they  have  not  tho 
motion  of  gravity. 

There  are  also  other  resemblances,  which  may  be 
observed  from  the  things  already  inquired. 

Provisional  Rules  respecting  the  Winds. 

Transitions.  Rules  are  either  particular  or  general  ; 
but  here  both  kinds  are  provisional.  For  as  yet  I 
do  not  pronounce  certainly  upon  anything.  Partic- 
ular rules  may  be  drawn  or  expressed  from  almost 
every  article ;  certain  general  ones,  but  only  a  few, 
I  shall  myself  select,  and  subjoin. 

1.  Wind  is  merely  air  in  motion  :  nothing  besides  : 
air  put  in  motion  either   by  simple  impulsion,   or  by 
the  mixture  of  vapours. 

2.  Winds  arising  from  the  simple  impulsion  of  the 
air  are  produced  in  four  ways  ;  namely,  by  the  natu- 
ral motion  of  the  air,  by  the  expansion  of  the  air  in 
the  path  of  the  sun,  by  the  contraction  of  the  air  from 
sudden    cold,  or  by  the  compression  of  the  air  from 
external  bodies. 

There  may  also  be  a  fifth  way ;  namely,  by  the  agi- 
tation and  concussion  of  the  air  from  the  stars ; 
but  let  matters  of  this  kind  be  passed  in  silence 


4(32  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

for  the  present,  or  only  listened  to  with  suspi* 
cion. 

3.  The  principal  cause  of  winds  produced  by  the 
mixture  of  vapours  is  the  overcharging  of  the  air  by 
the  air  newly  created  from  vapours  ;  for  thereby  the 
bulk  of  the  air  is  increased  and  requires  more  room. 

4.  A  small  increase  in  the  quantity  of  air  causes  a 
great  swell  in  every  part  of  the  atmosphere  ;  so  that 
this  new  air  from  the  resolution  of  vapours  contributes 
more  to  the  motion  than  to  the  matter  ;  but  the  great 
body  of  wind   is   composed  of  the  former  air.     Nor 
does  the  new  air  drive  the  old  air  before  it,  as  if  they 
were  separate  bodies ;  but  both  being  mixed  together 
require  greater  room. 

5.  Any  other  concurrent   principle  of  motion,  be- 
sides the  surcharge  of  the  air,  acts  as  an  accessory  to 
strengthen  and  increase  the  chief  one.     And  this  is  the 
reason  why  high  stormy  winds  seldom  rise  from  the 
simple  surcharge  of  the  air. 

6.  There  are  four  accessories  to  the  surcharge  of 
the  air  ;  namely,  exhalation  from  below,  precipitation 
from  what  is  called  the  middle  region  of  the  air,  dis- 
persion from  the  formation  of  a  cloud,  and   mobility 
and  acrimony  of  the  exhalation  itself. 

7.  The  motion  of  the  wind  is  almost  always  lateral. 
That  created  by  the  simple  surcharge  of  the  air  is  so 
from  the  very  first ;  that  caused  by  exhalations  from 
the  earth  or  repercussion  from  above  becomes  so  soon 
after  ;  unless  the  eruption,  precipitation,  or  recoil,  are 
extremely  violent. 

8.  The  air  will  submit  to  some  compression  before 
it  is   conscious  of   being  overcharged,  and    before    it 
impels  the  air  contiguous  to  it.     This  will  account  for 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  46«J 

all  winds   being  somewhat  more  condensed  than  air 
at  rest. 

9.  Winds  are  allayed  in  five  ways ;  namely,  by  the 
meeting,  incorporation,  elevation,  transportation,  or  de- 
ficiency of  vapours. 

10.  The  gathering  of  vapours,  and  in  fact  of  the 
air  itself  into  rain,  is  caused  in  four  ways ;  namely,  by 
the  excess  of  quantity,  or  the  condensation  by  cold,  or 
the  compulsion  of  contrary  winds,  or  the  repercussion 
from  obstacles. 

11.  Both  vapours  and  exhalations  are  the  matter  of 
winds.     Rain  is  never  generated  from  exhalations,  but 
winds  most  frequently  proceed  from  vapours.     There 
is  however  this  difference  ;  that  winds  generated  from 
vapours  more  easily  incorporate   themselves  with  the 
pure  air,  are  sooner  calmed,  and  are  not  so  stubborn  as 
those  arising  from  exhalations. 

12.  The  modification  and  different  conditions  of  heat 
have  as  much  to  do  with  the  generation  of  winds,  as 
have  the  quantity  or  conditions  of  matter. 

13.  The  sun's  heat,  in  the  generation  of  winds,  should 
have  just  power  enough  to  raise  them  ;  neither  so  abun- 
dant as  to  collect  them  into  rain,  nor  so  scanty  as  en- 
tirely to  scatter  and  disperse  them. 

14.  Winds  blow  from  the   direction  of   their  nur- 
series.    When  however  these  nurseries  are  situated  in 
different  quarters,   different  winds  generally  blow  to- 
gether, till  the  stronger  either  overpowers  the  weaker, 
or  turns  it  into  its  owrn  current. 

15.  Winds  are  generated  everywhere,  from  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth  to  the  cold  region  of  the  air ;  but  the 
common  winds  are  generated  close  at  hand,  the  stron- 
ger winds  above. 


464  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

16.  Countries  where  the  attendant  winds  are  warm 
are  hotter,  and  countries  where  these  winds  are  cool 
are  colder,  than  in  proportion  to  their  climate. 

A  Map  or  Table  of  Human  Requirements  with  reference 
to  the  Winds  ;  or  Desiderata  with  their  Approximations. 

Desideratum.  1.  A  better  method  of  ordering  and  dis- 
posing the  sails  of  ships,  so  as  to  make  more  way  with 
less  wind  ;  a  thing  very  useful  in  shortening  sea  voy- 
ages, and  saving  expense. 

Approximation.    No  approximation  has  been  hitherto 
invented  which  in  practice  should  exactly  correspond 
to  this  requirement.     But  for  this  consult  the  major 
observations  on  the  26th  article. 
Desideratum.    2.  A    method  of   constructing  windmills 
with  sails,  so  as  to  grind  more  with  less  wind  ;  a  thing 
likewise  useful  and  lucrative. 

Approximation.  Consult  on  this  point  our  experiments 
in  reply  to  the  27th  article,  where  the  thing  appears 
to 'be  almost  done. 

Desideratum.  3.  A  method  of  foreknowing  the  risings, 
fallings,  and  times  of  winds ;  a  thing  useful  in  naviga- 
tion and  agriculture,  but  especially  so  in  selecting  the 
times  for  naval  engagements. 

Approximation.  Many  things  have  been  remarked  in 
the  inquiry  which  bear  upon  this  subject,  but  espe- 
cially the  reply  to  the  32nd  article.  Now  however 
that  the  cause  of  the  winds  is  explained,  the  more 
diligent  observations  of  posterity  (if  it  shall  care  at 
all  about  these  things)  will  discover  more  certain 
prognostics. 

Desideratum.  4.  A  method  of  prognosticating  and  form- 
ing an  opinion  upon  other  things  by  means  of  the 


"HISTORIA  VENTORUM."  465 

winds  ;  for  instance,  whether  in   any  part  of  the  sea 

there  are  continents  or  islands,  or  whether  the  sea  is 

open  ;  a  thing  of  use  in  new  and  unknown  navigations. 

Approximation.    The  observation  about  the  periodical 

winds,  which  Columbus  appears  to  have  used,  is  an 

approximation  to  this. 

Desideratum.  5.  A  method  likewise  of  foretelling,  every 
year,  whether  corn  and  fruit  will  be  abundant  or  scarce ; 
a  thing  useful  and  lucrative  in  speculative  sales  and 
purchases  ;  of  which  an  instance  is  related  in  the  case 
of  Thales  when  he  bought  up  the  olives.1 

Approximation.  Some  observations  under  the  29th  ar- 
ticle of  inquiry,  on  malignant  or  tearing  winds,  and 
the  times  when  they  are  prejudicial,  bear  upon  this 
point. 

Desideratum.  6.  A  method  likewise  of  foretelling  the 
diseases  and  epidemics  for  every  year ;  a  thing  useful 
to  the  reputation  of  physicians,  if  such  things  could  be 
predicted  ;  as  also  for  the  causes  and  cures  of  diseases, 
with  some  other  matters  of  business. 

Approximation.  Some  observations  on  the  30th  article 
of  inquiry  have  likewise  reference  to  this  question. 

Admonition.  For  predictions  from  the  winds  con- 
cerning crops,  fruits,  and  diseases,  consult  the  His- 
tories of  Agriculture  and  Medicines. 
Desideratum.  7.  A  method  of  raising  and  allaying  winds. 
Approximation.  There  are  some  superstitious  and  mag- 
ical ceremonies  connected  with  this  subject,  which  do 
not  appear  worthy  to  be  received  into  a  serious  and 
exact  natural  history.  Nor  does  any  approximation 
at  present  occur  to  me.  It  will  however  be  of  ser- 
vice thereto,  to  inspect  and  inquire  thoroughly  into 

1  Diog.  Laert.  i.  26. 
VOL.  ix.  30 


466     TRANSLATION  OF  THE  "  HISTORIA  VENTORUM." 

the  nature  of  the  air ;  to  see  if  there  be  anything 
which,  on  being  communicated  in  a  small  quantity  to 
the  air,  can  excite  and  multiply  the  motion  of  dilata- 
tion or  contraction  in  the  body  of  the  air.  For  if 
this  could  be  done,  the  raising  and  calming  of  the 
winds  would  naturally  follow  ;  like  Pliny's  experi- 
ment, if  it  be  true,  of  throwing  vinegar  against  the 
whirlwind.1  Another  method  might  be,  by  letting 
out  subterranean  winds  wherever  a  great  quantity 
was  collected,  as  is  told  of  the  well  in  Dalmatia. 
But  it  is  difficult  to  discover  these  places  of  confine- 
ment. 

Desideratum.    8.  Methods  of  performing  many  amusing 
ind  wonderful  experiments  by  the  motion  of  the  winds. 
Approximation.    Such  questions  I  have  no  time  to  con- 
sider.     The   approximation  is   the  common   games 
which  depend  on  the  wind  ;  and,  no  question,  many 
pleasant   things  of  this   kind,  both  with  regard  to 
sound  and  motion,  may  be  invented. 

i  Pliiiy  ii.  49. 


INTRODUCTIONS  TO  THE  TITLES  DESIGNED 
FOE  THE  NEXT  FIVE  MONTHS. 


FOR  THE  INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE  HISTORY  OF  DENSE  AND  RARE, 
SEE  THE  HISTORY. 


468  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 


THE  HISTORY  OF  HEAVY  AND  LIGHT. 


INTRODUCTION. 

THE  motion  of  heavy  and  light  was  distinguished  by 
the  ancients  under  the  name  of  natural  motion.  For 
they  saw  no  external  efficient,  and  no  apparent  resist- 
ance. Moreover  this  motion  'seemed  to  gain  rapidity 
by  its  progress.  To  their  contemplation  or  rather  dis- 
course on  this  subject  they  added  by  way  of  seasoning 
the  mathematical  fancy  that  heavy  bodies  would  adhere 
to  the  centre  of  the  earth  (even  if  a  hole  were  made 
through  it),  together  with  the  scholastic  fiction  of  the 
motion  of  bodies  to  their  own  places.  And  believing 
that  by  these  positions  they  had  settled  the  question, 
they  made  no  further  inquiry,  except  that  there  was 
one  of  them  who  inquired  somewhat  more  diligently 
concerning  the  centre  of  gravity  in  different  figures, 
and  touching  the  things  which  float  on  water.  Nor 
has  one  of  the  moderns  contributed  anything  of  con- 
sequence ;  having  only  added  a  few  mechanical  inven- 
tions, and  even  those  distorted  by  his  demonstrations. 
But  to  speak  direct,  it  is  quite  certain  that  a  body  is 
affected  only  by  a  body ;  and  that  there  is  no  local  mo- 
tion which  is  not  excited  either  by  the  parts  of  the 
body  moved,  or  by  the  adjacent  bodies,  or  by  those 
contiguous  or  proximate  to  it,  or  at  least  by  those 


"  ADITDS  AD  TITULOS,  ETC."  469 

which  lie  within  the  sphere  of  its  activity.  Gilbert 
therefore  has  not  unscientifically  introduced  the  ques- 
tion of  magnetic  force,  but  he  has  himself  become  a 
magnet ;  that  is,  he  has  ascribed  too  many  things  to 
that  force,  and  built  a  ship  out  of  a  shell. 


470  TRANSLATION   OF  THE 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  SYMPATHY  AND 
ANTIPATHY  OF  THINGS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


STRIFE  and  friendship  in  nature  are  the  spurs  of 
motions  and  the  keys  of  works.  Hence  are  derived 
the  union  and  repulsion  of  bodies,  the  mixture  and  sep- 
aration of  parts,  the  deep  and  intimate  impressions  of 
virtues,  and  that  which  is  termed  the  junction  of  actives 
with  passives ;  in  a  word,  the  magnolia  naturae.  But 
this  part  of  philosophy  concerning  the  sympathy  and 
antipathy  of  things,  which  is  also  called  Natural  Magic, 
is  very  corrupt ;  and  (as  is  almost  always  the  case), 
there  being  too  little  diligence,  there  has  been  too  much 
hope.  The  effect  of  hope  on  the  mind  of  man  is  very 
like  the  working  of  some  soporific  drugs,  which  not  only 
induce  sleep,  but  fill  it  with  joyous  and  pleasing  dreams. 
For  first  it  throws  the  human  mind  into  a  sleep  by  the 
recital  of  specific  properties,  and  secret  and  heaven- 
sent virtues ;  whence  men  are  no  longer  wakeful  and 
eager  in  searching  out  real  causes,  but  are  content  to 
rest  in  such  kinds  of  indolence  ;  and  then  it  insinuates 
and  infuses  into  it  innumerable  fancies,  like  so  many 
dreams.  Men  likewise  in  their  folly  expect  to  become 
acquainted  with  nature  from  her  outward  face  and 
mask,  and  by  external  resemblances  to  detect  internal 


"ADITUS  AD  TITDLOS,  ETC."  471 

properties.  Their  practice  also  is  very  like  their  in- 
quiry. For  the  rules  of  natural  magic  are  such,  as  if 
men  expected  to  till  the  ground  and  eat  their  bread 
without  the  sweat  of  their  brow,  and  by  an  easy  and 
indolent  application  of  bodies  to  become  masters  of 
things.  And  they  are  always  talking  of  the  magnet, 
and  the  sympathy  of  gold  with  quicksilver,  and  a  few 
other  things  of  the  kind,  and  appealing  to  them  as 
sureties  to  accredit  other  things  which  are  not  bound 
by  any  similar  contract.  But  God  has  ordained  that 
whatever  is  excellent  shall  be  won  only  by  labours 
both  in  inquiry  and  working.  For  my  own  part,  in 
unravelling  the  law  of  nature,  and  interpreting  the 
relations  of  things,  I  shall  show  somewhat  more  dil- 
igence, not  giving  way  to  marvels  and  wonders,  and 
yet  not  instituting  a  narrow  or  partial  inquiry. 


472  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 


THE  HISTORY  OF  SULPHUR,  MERCURY, 
AND  SALT. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THIS  triad  of  principles  has  been  introduced  by- 
chemists,  and  as  a  speculative  doctrine  it  is  the  best 
discovery  that  they  have  made.  The  deepest  philoso- 
phers amongst  them  maintain  the  elements  to  be  earth, 
water,  air,  and  ether.  But  these  they  regard  not  as 
the  matter  of  things,  but  as  wombs,  wherein  specific 
seeds  of  things  are  generated,  in  the  same  manner  as 
in  the  womb.  But  instead  of  the  First  Matter  (which 
the  schoolmen  call  matter  spoiled  and  indifferent),  they 
substitute  these  three  things,  sulphur,  mercuiy,  and 
salt ;  whereof  all  bodies  are  compounded  and  mixed. 
Their  terms  I  accept,  but  not  their  opinions,  which  do 
not  appear  sound.  It  seems  however  not  to  sort  ill 
with  their  opinion,  that  two  of  these,  namely,  sulphur 
and  mercury  (in  the  sense  in  which  I  take  them),  I 
judge  to  be  the  most  primaeval  natures,  the  most  origi- 
nal configurations  of  matter,  and  among  the  forms  of 
the  first  class  almost  the  principal.  But  these  terms 
of  sulphur  and  mercury  may  be  varied,  and  receive  dif- 
ferent denominations  ;  as,  the  oily,  the  watery,  the  fat, 
the  crude,  the  inflammable,  the  non-inflammable,  and 
the  like.  For  they  appear  to  be  those  two  enormous 


"ADITUS  AD  TITULOS."  473 

tribes  of  things  which  occupy  and  penetrate  the  uni- 
verse. In  the  subterranean  world  we  find  sulphur  and 
mercury,  as  they  are  called ;  in  the  animal  and  vege- 
table world  we  find  oil  and  water;  in  pneumatical 
bodies  of  the  lower  order  we  find  air  and  flame  ;  in  the 
celestial  regions  we  find  starry  body  and  pure  ether. 
But  of  this  last  pair  I  do  not  as  yet  pronounce  deci- 
sively, though  the  concordance  appears  probable.  With 
regard  to  salt,  the  case  is  different.  For  if  by  salt  they 
mean  the  fixed  part  of  a  body,  which  does  not  turn 
either  into  flame  or  smoke,  this  belongs  to  the  inquiry 
of  matter  fluid  and  matter  determinate,  whereof  I  am 
not  now  speaking.  But  if  they  mean  salt  to  be  taken 
in  its  plain  and  literal  signification,  it  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  a  thing  different  from  sulphur  and  mercury, 
seeing  it  is  a  formation  compounded  from  them  both, 
by  means  of  a  strong  spirit.  For  all  salt  has  some  in- 
flammable parts  ;  and  some  parts  which  not  only  do 
not  conceive  flame,  but  strenuously  shrink  from  and 
avoid  it.  However,  since  the  inquiry  concerning  salt 
has  some  connection  with  the  inquiry  into  the  other 
two  things,  and  moreover  is  of  great  use,  —  seeing  that 
salt  comprises  in  itself  the  nature  of  sulphur  and  mer- 
cury, and  is  a  rudiment  of  life  itself,  —  I  have  thought 
good  to  admit  it  likewise  into  this  history  and  inquiry. 
But  meanwhile  I  give  notice  that  I  reserve  the  inqui- 
ries into  those  pneumatical  bodies,  air,  flame,  the  stars, 
and  ether,  for  titles  of  their  own  (as  they  certainly 
merit)  ;  and  that  here  I  only  institute  a  history  of 
sulphur  and  mercury  tangible,  that  is,  either  mineral, 
vegetable,  or  animal. 


FOR  THE  INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE  HISTORY  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH, 

SEE  THE  HISTORY. 


THE  FRAGMENT  OF  A  BACONIAN  BOOK, 


ENTITLED 


THE  ALPHABET  OF  NATURE. 


WHEREAS  so  many  things  are  produced  by  the  earth 
and  water,  so  many  things  pass  through  fhe  air  and 
are  received  by  it,  so  many  things  are  changed  and  dis- 
solved by  fire,  the  other  inquiries  would  be  less  clear 
and  complete,  if  the  nature  of  those  common  masses 
that  occur  so  often  were  not  well  known  and  explained. 
To  these  I  subjoin  inquiries  concerning  the  Heavens 
and  Meteors,  seeing  that  they  also  are  Greater  Masses, 
and  belonging  to  the  Universal. 

Greater  Masses.  Sixty-seventh  Inquiry,  or  that  con- 
cerning the  Earth  ;  denoted  by  r  T  T. 

Greater  Masses.  Sixty-eighth  Inquiry,  or  that  con- 
cerning Water ;  denoted  by  w  v. 

Greater  Masses.  Sixty-ninth  Inquiry,  or  that  con- 
cerning Air  ;  denoted  by  </><£ <£. 

Greater  Masses.  Seventieth  Inquiry,  or  that  con- 
cerning Fire  ;  denoted  by  x  X  X- 

Greater  Masses.  Seventy-first  Inquiry,  or  that  con- 
cerning the  Heavens  ;  denoted  by 


476  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 

Greater   Masses.     Seventy-second  Inquiry,  or  that 
concerning  Meteors ;  denoted  by  o>  w  w. 

Conditions  of  Beings. 

It  remains  to  inquire  in  this  alphabet  into  the  con- 
ditions of  Transcendental  Beings,  which  have  little  con- 
cern with  the  body  of  nature,  but  yet  in  the  method 
of  inquiry  which  I  use  will  give  no  small  light  to  the 
rest.  In  the  first  place  therefore  since,  as  Democritus 
has  well  observed,  the  nature  of  things  is  rich  and  (ac- 
cording to  him)  infinite  in  the  quantity  of  matter,  and 
the  variety  of  individuals ;  but  so  limited  in  combina- 
tions and  species  as  even  to  appear  scanty  and  destitute, 
for  there  are  hardly  enough  species  existing  or  capable 
of  existing'  to  make  up  a  thousand  in  number ;  and 
since  negatives  attached  to  affirmatives  are  of  great  use 
for  the  information  of  the  mind  ;  we  must  institute  an 
inquiry  concerning  Existence  and  Non-Existence,  which 
comes  seventy-third  in  order,  and  is  marked  by  a  a  a  a. 

Conditions  of  Beings  ;  or  concerning  Existence  and 
Non-Existence  ;  denoted  by  a  a  a  a. 

Possibility  and  Impossibility  are  nothing  else  than 
Potentiality  or  Non-Potentiality  of  Being.  Let  the 
seventy-fourth  inquiry  be  on  this  subject,  and  be 
marked  ft  ft  P  ft. 

Conditions  of  Beings.     Concerning  Possibility  and 
Impossibility ;  denoted  by  ft  /3  ft  (3. 

Much  and  Little,  Rare  and  Common,  are  the  Poten- 
tialities of  Being  in  Quantity.  Let  the  seventy-fifth 
inquiry  be  concerning  them,  and  be  marked  by  7  y  y  y. 

Conditions  of  Beings.    Concerning  Much  and  Little  ; 
denoted  by  y  y  y  y. 


"ABECEDAKIUM   NATURAE."  477 

Durable  and  Transitory,  Eternal  and  Momentary, 
are  Potentialities  of  Being  in  Duration.  Let  the  sev- 
enty-sixth inquiry  be  concerning  them,  and  be  marked 
8  8  88. 

Conditions    of  Beings.      Concerning    Durable   and 
Transitory  ;  denoted  by  8  8  8  8. 

Natural  and  Unnatural  are  Potenialities  of  Being, 
according  to  the  course  of  nature,  or  according  to 
deviations  from  it.  Let  the  seventy-seventh  inquiry, 
marked  e  e  e  e,  be  concerning  them. 

Conditions  of    Beings.      Concerning    Natural   and 
Unnatural ;  denoted  by  e  e  e  e. 

Natural  and  Artificial  are  Potentialities  of  Being, 

O' 

without  or  by  means  of  human  assistance.  Let  the 
seventy-eighth  inquiry,  marked  £  £  £  £,  be  concerning 
them. 

Conditions  of  Beings.     Concerning  Natural  and  Ar- 
tificial ;  denoted  by  £  £  £  £. 

Examples  in  explanation  of  the  order  of  the  alphabet 
are  not  adjoined,  because  the  inquiries  themselves  con- 
tain whole  hosts  of  examples.  » 

The  titles  by  which  the  order  of  the  alphabet  is  ar- 
ranged should  by  no  means  have  such  authority  as  to 
be  received  for  true  and  fixed  divisions  of  things.  For 
this  would  be  to  profess  that  we  know  the  things  which 
we  inquire ;  since  no  one  can  divide  things  truly  who 
has  not  a  full  knowledge  of  their  nature.  Let  it  be 
enough  if  the  titles  are  convenient  for  the  course  of 
inquiry,  which  is  our  present  business. 


478  TRANSLATION   OF   THE 


THE    RULE    OF    THE    ALPHABET. 

The  alphabet  is  constructed  and  directed  in  this 
manner.  The  history  and  experiments  occupy  the  first 
place.  These,  if  they  represent  an  enumeration  and 
series  of  particular  things,  are  set  down  in  tables  ; 
otherwise  they  are  taken  separately. 

But  since  history  and  experiments  are  very  often 
deficient,  especially  those  light-giving  and  crucial  in- 
stances which  serve  to  satisfy  the  understanding  as  to 
the  true  causes  of  things  ;  some  injunctions  are  given 
touching  new  experiments,  which  form  a  kind  of  De- 
signed History.  For  what  other  course  is  open  to  us 
who  are  just  entering  on  the  path  ? 

In  the  case  of  any  more  subtle  experiment,  the 
method  which  I  have  employed  is  explained  ;  for  there 
may  be  a  mistake,  and  it  may  stimulate  others  to  devise 
better  and  more  exact  methods. 

Admonitions  and  cautions  are  likewise  interspersed 
respecting  the  fallacies  of  things,  and  the  errors  which 
are  of  frequent  occurrence  in  discovery.  I  attach  also 
my  own  observations  on  the  history  and  experiments, 
that  the  interpretation  of  nature  may  be  in  the  more 
forwardness.  « 

Rules  and  Imperfect  Axioms,  such  as  occur  to  mo 
in  the  course  of  inquiry  (for  I  do  not  pronounce  upon 
anything),  I  set  down  and  prescribe,  but  only  provi- 
sionally. For  they  are  useful  if  not  altogether  true. 

Lastly,  I  sometimes  make  attempts  at  interpretation, 
though  of  a  very  humble  nature,  and  no  way  worthy 
in  my  estimation  to  be  honoured  with  that  name.  For 
what  need  have  I  of  pride  or  imposture,  seeing  that  I 
BO  often  declare  that  we  are  not  furnished  with  so  much 


"ABECEDARIOM  NATURE."  479 

history  and  experiments  as  we  want,  and  that  without 
these  the  interpretation  of  nature  cannot  be  accom- 
plished ;  and  that  therefore  it  is  enough  for  me  if  I  do 
my  part  in  setting  the  thing  on  foot  ? 

For  the  sake  of  clearness  and  order,  some  introduc- 
tions to  the  inquiries  are  submitted  by  way  of  prefaces. 
Likewise,  lest  the  inquiries  should  be  too  abrupt,  tran- 
sitional paragraphs  and  links  are  inserted. 

For  use,  some  reminders  concerning  practice  are 
suggested. 

To  rouse  human  industry,  a  list  of  desiderata,  with 
their  approximations,  is  proposed. 

I  am  well  aware  that  sometimes  the  inquiries  are  so 
mixed  up  with  one  another  that  some  of  the  things 
inquired  fall  under  different  titles.  But  my  method 
shall  be,  as  far  as  possible,  to  avoid  the  weariness  of 
repetitions  and  the  inconveniences  of  rejections ;  yet 
(when  it  is  necessary)  ever  to  hold  these  as  nothing  in 
comparison  to  clearness  of  explanation  in  an  argument 
of  such  obscurity. 

Such  then  is  the  rule  and  plan  of  the  alphabet.  May 
God  the  Maker,  the  Preserver,  the  Renewer  of  the 
universe,  of  his  love  and  compassion  to  man  protect 
and  guide  this  work,  both  in  its  ascent  to  His  glory, 
and  in  its  descent  to  the  good  of  man,  through  His 
only  Son,  God  with  us. 


END  OF  VOL.   IX. 


B 

115 
190 
v. 


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