Bacon's Essays

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P^, / 1^50- TO' ^

ILSR\:;\1^ COLLEGE LIBRiSRY

Q'ivenin S/onor<^
MDCCCCXni

3ir

H

BA-CON'S ESSAYS

WITH

ANNOTATIONS

BT

RICHARD WHATELY, D.D.

ARCHBI8H0F OF DUBLIN.

FOURTH EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED.

LONDON:
JOHN W. PAEZEE AND SON, WEST STRAND.

1858.

/ I". A^,•;s . \ w.

UN'ivH"-:*: Y
LILiRAkY

ionboh:
sayill aitd bdwaads, pbihtbbs, ohardos bt&kbt, t>

OOVEVT OABDUr. !

PREFACE.

TTAVING been accustomed to write down, from time to
-*--*• time, such observations as occurred to me on several of
Bacon's Essays, and also to make references to passages in
various books whicb relate to the same subjects, I have been
induced to lay the whole before the Public in an Edition of
these Essays. And in this I have availed myself of the
assistance of a friend, who, besides offering several valuable
suggestions, kindly undertook the task of revising and arrang-
ing the loose notes I had written down, and adding, in foot-
notes, explanations of obsolete words and phrases. These
Bot^ arc calculatedj I think, to throw light on the language
not only of Bacon's Essays, but also of our Authorized Version
of the Scriptures, which belongs to the same Age. There are,
m that language, besides some few words that are now wholly
obsolete, many times more (as is remarked in the 'Annotations'
on Essay XXIV.) which are now as commonly in use as ever,
but with a change in their meaning, which makes them far more
likely to mislead than those quite obsolete.^

In order to guard f^ainst the imputation of presumption in
venturing to make additions to what Bacon has said on several
subjects, it is necessary to call attention to the circumBtance
that the word ESSAY has been considerably changed in its
application aince the days of Bacon. By an Essay was origi-
nally meant — according to the obvious and natural sense of the
word — a slight sketch, to be filled up by the reader i brief
hiots^ designed to be followed out; loose thoughts on some

* Tb^v w a very luerul Dtde work by the Rev. Mr. Booker, a Vocabolnry of
Uo oil»ail0t« wonk imd pbraseii in oar Version. It is a manual which no reader uf
lh< Bilde oogbl to be witbout.

IV PREFACE.

subjects^ thrown out without much regularity^ but sufficient to
suggest further inquiries and reflections. Any more elaborate,
regular^ and finished composition, suoh as, in our days, often
bears the title of an Essay, our ancestors called a treatise,
tractate, dissertation, or discourse. But the more unpretending
title of ' Essay ' has in great measure superseded those others
which were formerly in use, and more strictly approfNiate.

I haye adverted to this circumstance because it ought to be
rememb^Ted that an Essay, in the original aad strict sense of
the w€Krd,^-ai;i Essay such as Bacon's, and also Montaigne's, —
wa9 deai^ed to be suggestiye of further remarks and reflections,
aod^ io short> to sd the reader a^thinkinff on the subject. It
consisted of observatioas loosely thrown out, as in conversation ;
and inviting, as in conversation, the observations of otl^rs on the
subjeot* With an Essay, in the modem sense of the word, it
is not so^ If the readw of what was designed to be a r^ular
and complete treatise on some sulpect (and which wonid have
been so entitkd by our forefathers) makes adiditional remarks
on that smbject^, he may be undearstood to imply that there is a
defioienqr- and imperfecticm — a something waniing — in the
work b^re him ; whereas, to suggest such further remarks — to
give outlines that the reader shall fill up for himself-^is the very
objeot of an Essay, properly so called — such as those of Bacon.
A commentary to explain or correct, few writings need less :
but they admit of, and call for, expansion and development.
They are gold-ingots^ not needing to be gilt or pohshed, but
requiring to be hammered out in order to display their full
value.

He is, tkroiiighoul;, and especially in his Essays, one of the
most su^estive authors that ever wrote. And it is remarkable
that, compressed and pithy as the Essays are, and consisting
chiefly of brief hints, he has elsewhere condensed into a still
smaller compass the matter of most of them. In his Rhetoric
he has drawn up what he calls ^ Antitheta,' or common-places,
'locos,* i.e. pros and cons, — opposite sentiments and reasons, on

PREFACE. V

Yarioas pointa, most of them the same that are discussed in the
Essays. It is a oompendioos aud clear mode of bringiBg
before the mind the most important points in any question, to
jdaoe in parallel columns, as Bacon has done, whatever can be
plaosiUy urged, fairly, or unfairly, on opposite sides ; and then
jott are in the condition of a judge who has to decide some
cause after baying heard all the pleadings. I have accordingly
attended to most of the Essays some of Bacon's 'Antitheta' on
the same subjects.

Several of these ' Antitheta ' were either adopted by Bacon
from prov«lHal use, or have (through him) become Proverbs.^
Aad, aecordin^y, I prefixed a brief remark (which I here
insert) to> the selection from Bacoa's ' Antitheta ' appended to
the Elemenidi of Rhetoric. For, all the writers on the sub-
jeet that I have met with (several of them learned, ingenious,
and entertaining) have almost entirely overlooked what appears
to me the real character, and proper office, of Proverbs.

'Ckmsidering that Proverbs have been current in all ages and
oooatriea, it is a curious drcumstanee that so much difference
of opinion should exist as to the utility, and as to the design
of them. Some are aecustomed to speak as if Proverbs con-
tained a sort of concentrated essence of the wisdom of all Ages,
which vnll enable any one to judge and act aright on every
emergency. Others, on the contrary, represent them as fit cmly
to famish occasionally a motto for a book, a theme for a
sGhodi-boy'a exercise, or a copy for children learning to
write.

' To me, both these opinions appear erroneous.

' That Proverbs are not generally regarded, by those who use

* There is appended to Prof. Snlllyan's SpelUng-hooh tuperteded, a oollec-
tkiB (winch 18 ako pubUahed separate) of Peovsbbs for Copy-lines, with short
eiphmatioiis annexed* for the nse of young people. As a child can hardly fiiil to
learn by heart, without effort or design, words which he has written, over and oyer,
as an ezerdse in penmanship, if these words contain something worth remembering
Uiit is so nucb dear gain.

VI PREFACE.

them^ as^ Decessarily, propositions of universal and acknow-
ledged trnth, like mathematical axioms^ is plain from the cir«
cumstance that many of those most in use are — ^like these
common-places of Bacon — opposed to each other; as e.g.
' Take care of the pence, and the pounds will take care of
themselves -/ to ' Be not penny- wise and pound-foolish / and
again, ' The more haste, the worse speed -/ or, ' Wait awhile,
that we may make an end the sooner / to ' Take time by the
firelock,' or ' Time and tide for no man bide,' &c.

'It seems, I think, to be practically understood, that a
Proverb is merely a compendious expression of some principle,
which will usually be, in different cases, and with or without
certain modifications, true or false, applicable or inapplicable.
When then a Proverb is introduced, the speaker usually
employs it as a Major-premisey and is understood to imply,
as a Minor, that the principle thus referred to is applicable in
the existing case. And what is gained by the employment of
the Proverb, is, that his judgment, and his reason for it, are
conveyed — through the use of a welUknown form of expression,
clearly, and at the same time in an incomparably shorter space,
than if he had had to explain his meaning in expressions
framed for the occasion. And the brevity thus obtained is
often still further increased by suppressing the full statement
even of the very Proverb itself, if a very common one, and
merely alluding to it in a word or two.

' Proverbs accordingly are somewhat analogous to those
medical Formulas which, being in frequent use, are kept
ready-made-up in the chemists' shops, and which often save
the framing of a distinct Prescription.

' And the usefulness of this brevity will not be thought, by
any one well conversant with Reasoning, to copsist merely in
the saving of breath, paper, or time. Brevity, when it does
7U>t cause obscurity, conduces much to the opposite effect, and
causes the meaning to be far more clearly apprehended than it
would have been in a longer expression. More than half the
cases, probably, in which men either misapprehend what is said.

PREFACE. VU

or confuse one question with another, or are misled by any
Mncy, are traceable in great measure to a want of sufficient
conciseness of expression/

Perhaps it may be thought by some to be a superfluous task
to say anything at all concerning a work which has been in
most people's hands for about two centuries and a-half, and
has, in that time, rather gained than lost in popularity. But
there are some qualities in Bacon's writings to which it is
important to direct^ from time to time, especial attention, on
account of a tendency often showing itself, and not least at the
present day^ to regard with excessive admiration writers of a
completely opposite character ; those of a mystical, dim, half-
intelligible kind of affected grandeur.^

' It is well known what a reproach to our climate is the
pieralence of fogs, and how much more of risk and of incon-
yeniende results from that mixture of light and obscurity
than from the darkness of night. But let any one imagine to
himself, if he can, a mist so resplendent with gay prismatic
colours, that men should forget its inconveniences in their
admiration of its beauty, and that a kind of nebular taste
should prevail, for preferring that gorgeous dimness to vulgar
daylight ; nothing short of this could afford a parallel to the
mischief done to the public mind by some late writers both
in England and America ; — a sort of ' Children of the Mist,'
who bring forward their speculations — often very silly, and not
seldom very mischievous — ^under cover of the twilight. They
have accustomed their disciples to admire as a style sublimely
philosophical, what may best be described as a certain haze of
words imperfectly understood, through which some seemingly
original ideas, scarcely distinguishable in their outlines, loom,
as it were, on the view, in a kind of dusky magnificence, that
greatly exaggerates their real dimensions.'

' The passages tbat follow are chiefly extracted from No. 29 of the CauHonM/or
(U Times; of which I may be permitted to say, — as it was not written by myself
—that a more admirable oompositaoD, both in matter and style, I never met with.

Yin PREFACB.

In Hie October number of the Edinimrgh Review, 1851
(p. 513)^ the reviewer, though evidoitly disposed to regard with
some favour a style of dim and mystical sublimity^ remarks, that
' a strange notion^ which many have adopted of late years^ is that
a poem cannot be profound unless it is^ in whole ot in part,
obscure; the people like thdr prophets to foam and speak
riddles/

But the reviewer need not have confined his remark to
poetry ; a similar taste prevails in reference to prose vrriters
also. ' I have ventured/ says the late Bishop Copleston (in a
letter published in the Memoir of him by his nephew), *to give
the whole class the appellation of the ' magtc-Umthom school,*
for their writings hare the startling effect of that toy ; children
delight in it^ and grown people soon get tired of it/

The passives here subjoined^ from modem works in some
repute, may serve as specimens (and a multitude of such might
have been added) of the kind of style alluded to : —

' In truths then^ the idea (call it that of day or that of
night) is threefold^ not twofold : — day, night, and their rela-
tion. Day is the thesis, night the antithesis, their relation
the mesothesis of the triad, — ^for triad it is, and not a mere
pair or duad, after all. It is the same with all the other
couples cited above, and with all couples, for every idea is a
trinitarian. Positive pole, n^ative one, and that middle term
wherein they are made one ; sun, planet, their relation ; solar
atom, planetary one, their conjunction, and so forth. The term
of relation betwixt the opposites in these ideal pairs is some-
times called the point of indifference, the mesoteric point, the
mid-point. This mid*point is to be seen standing betwixt its
right and left fellow-elements in every dictionary : for example,
men, man, women ; or adjectively, male, human, female. ' So
God created man in His own image : in the image of Qt>d
created He hinl ; male and female created He them.' '

^ Now, this threefold constitution of ideas is universal. As
all things seem to go in pairs to sense, and to the understand-

PREPACE. IX

ing, 80 all are seen in threes by reason. This law of antinomy
is no limited, no planetary law, nor yet peculiarly human ; it is
cosmical, all-embracing, ideal^ divine. Not only is it impossible
for man to think beauty without simultaneously thinking de-
formity and their point of indiflfereuce, justice without injustice
and theirs, unity without multiplicity and theirs, but those
8e?eral theses (beauty, justice, unity, namely) cannot be thought
without these their antitheses, and without the respective
middle terms of the pairs. As the eye of common-sense cannot
ba?e an inside without an outside, nor a solar orb without a
planetary orbicle (inasmuch as it ceases to be solar the instant
it is stript of its planet), so the eye of reason cannot see an
inside without seeing an outside, and also their connexion as
the inside and the outside of one and the same thing, nor a
sun without his planet and their synthesis in a solar system.
In short, three-in-one is the law of all thought and of all
things. Nothing has been created, nothing can be thought,
except upon the principle of three-in-one. Three-in-one is the
deepest-lying cypher of the universe.'*

Again : * The * relativity' of human knowledge, i.e., the meta-
physical limitation of it, implies, we are told, the relation of a
subject knowing to an object known. And what is known
must be qiuilitatively known, inasmuch as we must conceive
every object of which we are conscious, in the relation of a
quality depending upon a substance. Moreover, this qualita-
tively knovm object must be protended, or conceived as existing
in time, and extended, or regarded as existing in space ; while
its qualities are intensive, or conceivable under d^ree. The
thinkable, even when compelled by analysis to make the nearest
approach that is possible to a negation of intelligibility, thus
implies phenomena objectified by thought, and conceived to exist
tn space and time. With the help of these data, may we not

1 Tbifl must have been in the mind of the poet who wrote —
' So, down thy hill, romantic Ashbourne, glides
The Derby Dilly, carrying three inndes.'

X FKEFACE.

discover and define the highest law of intelligence^ and thus
plaoe the key-stone in the metaphysic arch ?'

' If thou hast any tidings ' (says Falstaff to Ancient Pistol)
' prithee deliver them like a man of this world.'

Again : ' Thus to the ancient, well-known logic, which we
might call the logic of identity, and which has for its axiom,
' A thing can never be the contrary of that which it is/ Hegel
opposes his own logic, according to which ^everything is at
once that which it iSy and the contrary of that which it is J* By
means of this he advances a priori ; he proposes a thesis, from
which he draws a new synthesis, not directly (which might be
impossible), but indirectly, by means of an antithesis,^

Again : ' It [Religion] is a mountain air ; it is the embalmer
of the world. It is myrrh, and storax, and chlorine, and rose-
mary. It makes the sky and the hills sublime ; and the silent

song of the stars is it Always the seer is a sayer.

Somehow his dream is told, somehow he publishes it with
solemn joy, sometimes with pencil on canvas, sometimes with
chisel on stone ; sometimes in towers and aisles of granite, his
soul's worship is builded. ...... Man is the wonder-
maker. He is seen amid miracles. The stationariness of re-
ligion j the assumption that the age of inspiration is past, that
the Bible is closed ; the fear of degrading the character of Jesus
by representing him as a man, indicate with sufficient clear-
ness the falsehood of our theology. It is the office of a true
teacher to show us that Grod is, not was — that He speaketh^
not spoke. The true Christianity — a faith like Christ's in the
infinitude of Man — is lost. None believeth in the soul of Man,
but only in some man or person old and departed I In how
many churches, and by how many prophets, tell me, is Man
made sensible that he is an infinite soul ; that the earth and
heavens are passing into his mmd ; and that he is drinking for
ever the soul of God !

' The very word Miracle, as pronounced by christian Churches,
gives a false impression ; it is a monster ; it is not one with the

PREFACE. XI

blowing dorer and the falling rain. . . . Man's life is a miracle^
and all that man doth. ... A trne conversion^ a true Christy
is WiW, as always^ to be made by the reception of beautiful
sentiments. . . . The gift of Qod to the soul is not a vaunting^
OTerpowcring, excluding sanctity^ but a sweet natural goodness
like thine and mine, and that thus invites thine and mine to be,
and to grow."

Now, without presuming to insinuate that such passages as
these convey no distinct meaning to any reader, or to the
writer, it may safely be maintained that to above ninety-nine
hundredths — ^including, probably, many who admire them as
profoundly wise — ^they are very dimly, if at all, intelligible. If
the writers of them were called on to explain their meaning, as
Mr. Bayes is, in The Reheearsal, they might peihaps confess as
frankly as he does, that the object was merely ' to elevate and
Burprise.' Some knowledge of a portion of human nature was
oertamly possessed by that teacher of Rhetoric mentioned by
Qnintitian, whose constant admonition to his pupils was
[<rjcor«roi^] ' darken, darken I' as the readiest mode of gaining
admiration.

One may often hear some writers of the ' magic-lanthom
school ' spoken of as possessing wonderful power, even by those
who regret that this power is not better employed. 'It is
pity,' we sometimes hear it said, ' that such and such an author
does not express in simple, intelligible, unaffected English such
admirable matter as his.' They little think that it is the
strangeness and obscurity of the style that make the power

^ It IS worth obierving that this writer^ as well as very many others of the
noe stampy professes to he a heliever in what he chuses to call Christianity; and
vould, <if«ooiirse, not scrapie to take the oath (so strenuously maintained by some,
« a sB&gnsrd to the christian religion) ' on the trne faith of a Christian/ though
be is farther removed fscim what b commonly meant by < Christianity/ than a Jew
or a Huasolman. And it should be remembered that this case is far different from
tint (with wUdi it is sometimes confounded) of hypocritical profession. He who
ues the word ' Christian' atmoedly in a sense quite different £nom the established
fine, is to be censured indeed for an unwarrantable abuse of language, but is not
gm% of deception,

b %

Xll PREFACE.

displayed seem far greater than it is ; and that much of what
they now admire as originality and profound wisdom^ would
appear, if translated into common language, to be mere com-
mon-place matter. Many a work of this description may
remind one of the supposed ancient shield which had been
found by the antiquary Martinus Scriblerus, and which he
highly prized, incrusted as it was with venerable rust. He
mused on the splendid appearance it must have had in its bright
newness; till, one day, an over-sedulous house-maid having
scoured off the rust, it turned out to be merely an old pot-lid.

^ ' It is chiefly in such foggy forms that the metaphysics and
theology of Germany, for instance, are exercising a greater in-
fluence every day on popular literature. It has been zealously
instilled into the minds of many, that Germany has something
far more profound to supply than anything hitherto extant in
our native literature ; though what that profound something is,
seems not to be well understood by its admirers. They arc,
most of them, willing to take it for granted, with an implicit
faith, that what seems such hard thinking, must be very accu-
rate and original thinking also. What is abstruse and recondite
they suppose must be abstruse and recondite wisdom ; though,
perhaps, it is what, if stated in plain English, they would throw
aside as partly trifling truisms, and partly stark folly.

' It is a remark which I have heard highly applauded, that a
clear idea is generally a little idea j for there are not a few
persons who estimate the depth of thought as an unskilful eye
would estimate the depth of water. Muddy water is apt to be
supposed to be deeper than it is, because you cannot see to the
bottom I very clear water, on the contrary, will always seem
less deep than it is, both from the well-known law of refraction,
and also because it is so thoroughly penetrated by the sight.
Men fancy that an idea must have been always obvious to
every one, when they find it so plainly presented to the mind
that every one can easily take it in. An explanation that is

^ This passage is from the Cautions for the Times, No. 29.

PREFACE. XUl

perfectly clear, satisfactory, and simple, often causes the unre-
flecting to forget that they had needed any explanation at all.
And truths that are, in practice, frequently overlooked, they
will deride as ' vapid truisms ' if very plainly set forth, and will
bonder that any one should think it worth while to notice
them.'

Accordingly, if there should be two treatises on some science,
one of them twice as long as the other, but containing nothing
of much importance that is not to be found in the other (ex-
cept some positions that are decidedly untenable), but in a style
much more diffuse, and less simple and perspicuous, with a
tone of lofty pretension, and scornful arrogance, many persons
viU consider this latter as far the more profound and philoso-
phical work, and the other as containing merely 'beggarly
elements,' fit only for the vulgar.

^Now, Bacon is a striking instance of a genius who could
think so profoundly, and at the same time so clearly, that an
ordinary man understands readily some of his wisest sayings,
and, perhaps, thinks them so self-evident as hardly to need
mention. But, on re-consideration and repeated meditation,
you perceive more and more what extensive and important
application one of his maxims will have, and how often it
has been overlooked : and on returning to it again and again,
fresh views of its importance will continually open on you.
One of his sayings will be like some of the heavenly bodies
that are visible to the naked eye, but in which you see con
tinually more and more, the better the telescope you apply to
them.

' The 'dark sayings/ on the contrary, of some admired writers,
niay be compared to a fog-bank at sea, which the navigator at
first glance takes for a chain of majestic mountains, but which,
when approached closely, or when viewed through a good glass,
proves to be a mere mass of unsubstantial vapours.'

A large proportion of Bacon's works has been in great
measure superseded, chiefly through the influence exerted by

XIV PBEFACE.

those works themselyes ; for, the more satis&ctory and effectual
is the refutation of some prevailing errors, and the establish-
ment of some philosophical principles that had been overlooked,
the less need is there to resort, for popular use, to the argu-
ments hy which this has been effected. They are like the
trenches and batteries by which a besieged town has been
assailed, and which are abandoned as soon as the capture has
been accomplished.

' I have been labouring,' says some writer who had been
engaged in a task of this kind (and Bacon might have said the
same) — ' I have been labouring to render myself useless.'
Great part, accordingly, of what were the most important of
Baoon's works are now resorted to chiefly as a matter of curious
and interesting speculation to the studious few, whUe the effect
of them is practically felt by many who never read, or perhaps
even heard of them.

But his Essays retain their popularity, as relating chiefly to
the concerns of every-day life, and which, as he himself expresses
it, 'come home to men's business and bosoms.'

' In the Pure and in the Physical Sciences,' says an able
writer in the Edinburgh Review,^ 'each generation inherits
the conquests made by its predecessors. No mathematician
has to redemonstrate the problems of Euclid; no phpio-
logist has to sustain a controversy as to the circulation of
the blood ; no astronomer is met by a denial of the princi{de
of gravitation. But in the Moral Sciences the ground seems
never to be incontestably won ; and this is peculiarly the case
with respect to the sciences which are subsidiary to the arts of
administration and legislation. Opinions prevail, and are acted
on. The evils which appear to result fix>m their practical
application lead to inquiry. Their erroneousness is proved by
philosophers, is acknowledged by the educated Public, and at
length is admitted even by statesmen. The policy founded on

1 See Edinburgh Seview, July, 1843, No. 157.

PREFACE. XV

the refuted error is relaxed^ and the evils which it iaflicted^ so
far as they are capable of remedy, are removed or mitigated.
After a time, new theorists arise, who are seduced or impelled
by some moral or intellectual defect or error to reassert the
exploded doctrine. They have become entangled by some
logical &llacy, or deceived by some inaccurate or incomplete
assumption of facts, or think that they see the means of ac-
quiring reputation, or of promoting their interests, or of grati-
fying their political or their private resentments, by attacking
the altered policy. All popular errors are plausible ; indeed, if
they were not so, they would not be popular. The plausibility
to which the revived doctrine owed its original currency, makes
it acceptable to those to whom the subject is new ; and even
among those to whom it is familiar, probably ninety-nine out
of every hundred are accustomed to take their opinions on such
matters on trust. They hear with surprise that what they
sapposed to be settled is questioned, and often avoid the trouble
of inquiring by endeavouring to believe that the truth is not to
be ascertained. And thus the cause has again to be pleaded,
heCote judges, some of whom are prejudiced, and others will
not readily attend to reasoning founded on premises which they
think unBUsceptible of proof.

To treat fully of the design and character of Bacon's greater
works^ and of the mistakes — which are not few or unimportant
-—that prevail respecting them, would be altogether unsuited to
this Work. But it may be worth while to introduce two brief
remarks on that subject.

(i.) The prevailing fault among philosophers in Bacon's time
and long before, was hasty, careless, and scanty observation,
and the want of copious and patient experiment. On supposed
&cts not carefully ascertained, and often on mere baseless con-
jecture, they proceeded to reason, often very closely and inge-
niously ; foi^tting that no architectural skill in a superstructure
will give it greater firmness than the foundation on which it

XVI PREFACE.

rests; and thus they of course failed of arriving at true con-
clusions ; for, the most accurate reasoning is of no avails if
you have not well-established facts and principles to start
from.

Bacon laboured zealously and powerfully to recall philosophers
from the study of fanciful systems, based on crude conjectures,
or on imperfect knowledge, to the careful and judicious investi-
gation, or, as he called it, 'interrogation' and 'interpretation
of nature ;' the collecting and properly arranging of well-ascer-
tained facts. And the maxims which he laid down and enforced
for the conduct of philosophical inquiry, are universally admitted
to have at least greatly contributed to the vast progress which
physical science has been making since his time.

But though Bacon dwelt on the importance of setting out
from an accurate knowledge of facts, and on the absurdity of
attempting to substitute the reasoning-process for an investi-
gation of nature, it would be a great mistake to imagine that
he meant to disparage the reasoning-process, or to substitute
for skill and correctness in that, a mere accumulated knowledge
of a multitude of facts. And any one would be far indeed
from being a follower of Bacon, who should despise logical ac-
curacy, and trust to what is often called experience; meaning,
by that, an extensive but crude and undigested observation.
For, as books, though indispensably necessary for a student, are
of no use to one who has not learned to read, though he dis-
tinctly sees black marks on white paper, so is all experience and
acquaintance with facts, unprofitable to one whose mind has not
been trained to read rightly the volume of nature, and of human
transactions, spread before him.

When complaints are made — often not altogether without
reason — of the prevailing ignorance of facts, on such or such
subjects, it will often be found that the parties censured, though
possessing less knowledge than is desirable, yet possess more
than they know what to do with. Their deficiency in arranging
and applying their knowledge, in combining facts, and correctly

PREFACE. XVU

deducings and rightly employing, general principles, will be
perhaps greater than their ignorance of facts. Now, to attempt
remedying this defect by imparting to them additional know-
ledge, — ^to confer the advantage of wider experience on those who
have not skill in profiting by experience, — is to attempt enlarging
the prospect of a short-sighted man by bringing him to the
top of a hill. Since he could not, on the plain, see distinctly
the objects before him, the wider horizon from the hill-top is
utterly lost on him.

In the tale of Sandford and Merton, where the two boys are
described as amusing themselves with building a hovel, they lay
poles horizontally on the top, and cover them with straw, so as
to make a flat roof; of course the rain comes through ; and
Master Merton proposes then to lay on more straw. But Sand-
ford, the more intelligent boy, remarks, that as long as the
roof is flat, the rain must sooner or later soak through; and
that the remedy is, to alter the building, and form the roof
sloping. Now, the idea of enlightening incorrect reasouers by
additional knowledge, is an error analogous to that of the flat
roof: of course knowledge is necessary ; so is straw to thatch
the roof; but no quantity of materials will be a substitute for
understanding how to build.

But the unwise and incautious are always prone to rush from
an error on one side into an opposite error. And a reaction
accordingly took place from the abuse of reasoning, to the undue
neglect of it, and from the fault of not sufficiently observing
£au;ts, to that of trusting to a mere accumulation of ill-arranged
knowledge. It is as if men had formerly spent vain labour in
threshing over and over again the same straw, and winnowing
the same chaff, and then their successors had resolved to discard
those processes altogether, and to bring home and use wheat
and weeds, straw, chaff, and grain, just as they grew, and with-
out any preparation at all.^

^ Lectures oji Political Economy, Icct. ix.

XVlll PREFACE.

If Bacon had lived in the present day, I am convinced he
would have made his chief complaint against unmethodised
inquiry, and careless and illogical reasoning ; certainly he would
not have complained of Dialectics as corrupting philosophy.
To guard now against the evUs prevalent in his time, would be
to fortify a town against battering-rams instead of against
cannon.

(a.) The other remark I would make on Bacon's greater
works is, that he does not rank high as a ' Natural-philosopher.'
His genius lay another way ; not in the direct pursuit of Phy-
sical Science, but in discerning and correcting the errors of
philosophers, and laying down the principles on which they
ought to proceed. According to Horace's illustration, his office
was not that of the razor, but the hone, ^ acutum reddere quse
ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi.'

The poet Cowley accordingly has beautifully compared Bacon
to Moses,

• Who did upon the very border stand
Of that fair promised land;'

who had brought the Israelites out of Egypt, and led them
through the wilderness, to the entrance into the ' land flowing
with milk and honey,' which he was allowed to view from the
hill-top, but not himself to enter.

It requires the master-mind of a great general to form the
plan of a campaign, and to direct aright the movement-s of great
bodies of troops : but the greatest general may perhaps fall far
short of many a private soldier in the use of the musket or the
sword.

But Bacon, though £u* from being without a taste for the
pursuits of physical science, had an actual inaptitude for it, as
might be shewn by many examples. The discoveries of Coper-
nicus and Galileo, for instance, which had attracted attention
before and in his own time, he appears to have rejected or
disregarded.

But one of the most remarkable specimens of his inaptitude

PREFACE. XIX

for praetically carrying out his own principles in matters con-
nected with Physical Science^ is bis speculation concerning the
well-known plant called mis8d|x>. He notices the popular
belief of his own time, that it is a true plant, propagated by
its berries, which are dropped by birds on the boughs of other
trees; a fact alluded to in a Latin proverb applicable to those
who create future dangers for themselves; for, the ancient
Bonuuks prepared birdlime for catching birds from the misselto
thus propagated. Now this account of the plant, which has
bug since been universally admitted, Bacon r^ects as a vulgar
enor, and insists on it that misselto is not a true plant, but an
excreso^aoe fiom the tree it grows on 1 Nothing can be con-
eeived mora remote from the spirit of the Baconian philosophy
than thus to substitute a random conjecture for careful investi-
gation : and that, too, when there actually did exist a prevailing
belief and it was obviously the first step to inquire whether
this were or were not well-founded.

The matter itself, indeed, is of little importance ; but it
indicates^ no less than if it were of the greatest, a deficiency in
the application of his own principles. For, one who takes
ddibenite aim at some object, and misses it, is proved to be a
bad nuurksman, whether the object itself be insignificant or not.

But rarely, if ever, do we find any such failures in Bacon's
speculations on human character and conduct. It was there
that his strength lay ; and in that department of philosophy it
may safely be said that he had few to equal, and none to excel
him.

In several instances I have treated of subjects respecting
which erroneous opinions are current ; and I have, in other
works, sometimes assigned this as a reason for touching on
thoie subjects. Hence, it has been inferred by more than one
critic, that I must be at variance with the generality of mankind
in most of my opinions ; or, at least, must wish to appear so,
for the sake of claiming credit for originality. But there seems
DO good ground for such an inference. A man might, conceiv-

XX PREFACE.

ably, agree with the generality on nineteen points out of twenty,
and yet might see reason, when publishing is in question, to
treat of the one point, and say little or nothing of the nineteen.
For it is evidently more important to clear up diflSculties, and
correct mistakes, than merely to remind men of what they knew
before, and prove to them what they already believe. He may
be convinced that the sun is brighter than the moon, and that
three and two make five, without seeing any need to proclaim
to the world his conviction. There is no necessity to write a
book to prove that liberty is preferable to slavery, and that in-
temperance is noxious to health. But when errors are afloat
on any important question, and especially when they are plausi-
bly defended, the work of refuting them, and of maintaining
truths that have been overlooked, is surely more serviceable to
the Public than the inculcation and repetition of what all men
admit.

I have inserted in the ' Annotations,' extracts from several
works of various authors, including some of my own. If I had,
instead of this, merely given references, this would have been to
expect every reader either to be perfectly familiar with all the
works referred to, or at least to have them at hand, and to take
the trouble to look out and peruse each passage. This is what
I could not reasonably calculate on. And I had seen lament-
able instances of an author's being imperfectly understood, and
sometimes grievously misunderstood, by many of his readers
who were not so familiar as he had expected them to be, with
his previous works, and with others which had been alluded to,
but not cited.

Cavillers, however — ^persons of the description noticed in the
* Annotations ' on Essay XL VII. — will be likely to complain of
the reprinting of passages from other books. And if the opposite
course had been adopted, of merely giving references to them,
the same cavillers would probably have complained that the
reader of this volume was expected to sit down to the study of
it with ten or twelve other volumes on the table before him.

PREFACE. XXI

and to look out each of the passages referred to. Again^ if an
author^ in making an extract from some work of his own^ gives
a reference to it, the caviller will represent him as seeking to
puif his own productions : if he omit to give the reference, the
same caviller will charge him with seeking to pass off as new
what had been published before. And again, a reader of
this character, if he meet with a statement of something he
was already convinced of, will deride it as a truism not worth
mentioning j while anything that is new to him he will
censure as an extravagant paradox. For ^ you must think this,
look you, that the worm will do his kind.'*

I chose, then, rather to incur the blame of the fault — if
it he one — of encumbering the volume with two or three addi-
tional sheets, which, to some readers, may be superfluous, than to
nm the risk of misleading, or needlessly offending, many others,
by omitting, and merely referring to, something essential to the
argument, which they might not have seen, or might not dis-
tinctly remember.

The passages thus selected are, of course, but a few out of
many in which the subjects of these Essays have been treated
of. I have inserted those that seemed most to the purpose,
without expecting that all persons should agree in approving the
selections made. But any one who thinks that some passages
from other writers contain better illustrations than those here
given, has only to edit the Essays himself with such extracts as
he prefers.

To the present edition some additions have been made;
one of which — a short 'Annotation' on Essay XL VI. — has
been printed separate, for the use of purchasers of the former
editions, and may be had of the Publishers.

' Aiitofiy and Cleopatra, Act v.

I

CONTENTS.

«8SAT PAGE

^ I. OP TBTITH I

g, H. O? DEATH • 14

i III. OF UNITY IN RELIGION 20

^ IV, OF REVENGE ^^•

^ V, OF ADVERStTY 6t

^^< OF SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION .... 72

tV«. O? PARENTS AXL> CHILDREN 82

VTTI. OF MA II Kl age: ANO SINGLE LIFE ...... 86

U IX, OF ENVY . , , 91

X. OF LOVE lOJ

-^) OF GREAT PLACE 10^

^ xn- OF BOLiiNEsa 124

- Jtlll* OF GOODNESS, AND GOODNESS OF NATURE . . . 127

Xm OF NOBIHTY I ^^

UXV. OF SEDITION'S AND TROUBLES I40

ITK OF ATHEISM 1^6

X. 3n*ll. OF srPERSTITlON 1 70

aCVIlI* OF TRAVEL , 19^

^XOt. OF EMPIRE 2-01

&^^ OF COUNSEL 210

XXK OF DELAYS 219

V XXII* OF CUNNING 226

t X^flQ OF WISDOM FOR A MAN^S SELF 24 1

^ XtIT* or INNOVATIONS 248

L XVi. OF DlSPATCe 269

t IX Vl, OF SEEMING WISE 275

tXTII. OF FBtENDSHIP 282

I

XXIV CONTENTS.

ESSAY PAOB

XXVIII. OP EXPENSE 3OO

I

XXIX. OF THE TRUE GREATNESS OF KINGDOMS AND

ESTATES 307

XXX. OF REGIMEN OF HEAI.TH 326

XXXI. OP SUSPICION ^ . . . . 332

^ XXXII. OP DISCOURSE 346

XXXIII. OF PLANTATIONS 355

XXXIV. OP RICHES 368

XXXV, OF PROPHECIES 379

L. ^XXyi) OP AMBITION 386

XXXVII. OP MASQUES AND TRIUMPHS 39O

^ XXXVIII. OP NATURE IN MEN 394

►- XXXIX. OP CUSTOM AND EDUCATION 399

XL. OP FORTUNE 4I3

XLI. OF USURY 418

XLII. OP YOUTH AND AGE 425

XLIII. OF BEAUTY 435

XLIV. OF DEFORMITY 437

XLV. OF BUILDING 439

XtVI. OP GARDENS 444

^XLVII. OP NEGOTIATING 453

kXLVIII. OP FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS 467

^ XLIX- OF SUITOR 471

"^ L. OP STUDIES 474

^^^OF FACTION 514

V-LU. OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS 52 1

W LIII. OF PRAISE 525

V LIV. OP VAIN GLORY 538

'v LV. OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION 543

LVI. OF JUDICATURE 55 1

LVII. OP ANGER 560

% LVIII. OF VICISSITUDES OF THINGS 566

A FRAGMENT OF AN ESSAY ON FAME 572

THE PRAISE OP KNOWLEDGE 576

4

BACONS ESSAYS.

ESSAY I. OF TRUTH.

'TTTHAT is truth ?^ said jesting Pilate, and would not stay
^^ for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in
giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix a belief — afiecting^
free-will in thinking, as well as in acting — and, though the
•sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain
certain discoursing* wits which are of the same veins, though
there be not so much blood in them as was in those of the
ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and labour which
men take in finding out of truth ; nor again, that, when it is
found, it imposeth' upon men^s thoughts, that doth bring lies
in favour ; but a natural, though corrupt love of the lie
itself. One of the later schools of the Grecians examineth the
matter, and is at a stand to think what should be in it, that
men should love lies, where neither they make for pleasure, as
with poets, nor for advantage, as with the merchant, but for
the lie's sake. But I cannot tell : this same truth is a naked
and open daylight, that doth not show the masques, and mum-
meries, and triumphs of the world, half so stately and daintily*
88 candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a
pearl, that showeth best by day ; but it will not rise to the

1 Aifect. To mm at; endeavour after *

'This proud man affects imperial sway.' — Dtyden,
' Difooarsiiig. Ditcwrswe; rambling.

* We, through madness.
Form strange conceits in our discoursing brains.
And prate of things as we pretend they were.' — Ford,
* Impose upon. To lay a restraint upon, (Bacon's Latin original is, * Cogita-
taooibiis imponitur captivitas.')

' UnreaBonable impositions on the mind and practice.' — Watts.
^ Dainlaly. Elegantly,

'The Duke exceeded in that Ins leg was daintily formed.'— Wotton,

B

• 2 Of Truth. [Essay i.

price of a diamond or carbuncle that showeth best in varied
lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any
man doubt^ that if there were taken out of men's minds vain
opinions^ flattering hopes^ false valuations^ imaginations as one
would/ and the like, but it would leave the minds of a number
of men poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposi-
tion, and unpleasing^ to themselves ? One of the fathers, in
great severity, called poesy 'vinum dsemonum,'* because it
fiUcth the imagination, and yet is but with the shadow of a
lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but
the lie that sinketh in and settleth in it that doth the hurt,
such as we spake of before. But howsoever* these things are
thus in men's depraved judgments and affections, yet truth,
which only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth,
which is the love-making, or wooing of it — the knowledge of
truth, which is the presence of it — and the belief of truth,
which is the enjoying of it — ^is the sovereign good of human
nature. The first creature of God, in the works of the days,
was the light of the sense, the last was the light of reason,
and his Sabbath work, ever since, is the illumination of his
spirit. First he breathed light upon the face of the matter, or
chaos, then he breathed light into the face of man ; and still he
breatheth and inspireth light into the face of his chosen. The
poet,* that beautified the sect,® that was otherwise inferior to the
rest, saith yet excellently well, 'It is a pleasiurcto stand upon
the shore, and to see ships tost upon the sea ; a pleasure to
stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the
adventures^ thereof below ; but no pleasure is comparable to the
standing upon the vantage ground of truth (a hill not to be

' As one would. Atpleatures unrestrained,
^ Unpleasing. UnpUcuant; dietaetefkl.

' How dares thy tongue
Sonnd the unpleasing news ?*-~^hahespere,
' ' Wine of demons.' — Augustine.

* Howsoever. Although,

* The man doth fear Gk)d, hotosoever it seems not in him.' — Shakespere.
^ Lncretius, iL

* The Epicureans.

7 Adventures. Ibrtunes,

* She smiled with silver cheer.
And wished me fair adventure for the yeuJ^^Jhydem,

Essay i.] Of Truth. 3

commanded, and where the air is always clear and serene), and
to see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in
the vale below -^ so^ always that this prospect be with pity, and
not with swelling or pride. Certainly it is heaven upon earth
to have a man^s mind move in charity, rest in providence, and
turn upon the poles of truth.

To pass from theological and philosophical truth to the
truth of civil business, it wiU be acknowledged, even by those
that practise it not, that clear and round^ dealing is the honour
of man's nature, and that mixture of falsehood is like alloy in
coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal work the
better, but it embaseth^ it; for these winding and crooked
courses are the goings of the serpent, which goeth basely upon
the belly, and not upon the feet. There is no vice that doth
so cover a man with shame as to be found false and per-
fidious; and therefore Montaigne saith prettily, when he in-
quired the reason why the word of the lie should be such a
disgrace, and such an odious charge, ' If it be well weighed, to
say that a man lieth, is as much as to say that he is brave
towards God, and a coward towards man ; for a lie faces God,
and shrinks from man.'* Surely the wickedness of falsehood
and breach of faith cannot possibly be so highly expressed as in
that it shall be the last peal to call the judgments of Grod upon
the generations of men : it being foretold, that when ' Christ
Cometh,' he shall not ^ find faith upon earth.'

' So. Provided, *So that the doctrine be wholesome and edifying, a want
of oaxAsijen in the manner of speech may be overlooked.' — Atterbury.
' Boond. I^lain ; fcUr i candid,

* I will a rowndf anvamished tale deliver.' — Shakespere,

' Embose. To vitiate ; to. alloy. * A pleasure, high, rational, and angelic ; a
plcaflire embayed by no appendant f^Ti%*-~^ouih,
* Eflsais, fiv. ii. chap, xviii.

B %

0/ Trvih. [Essay i.

ANNOTATIONS.

^ ' What is truth ?' said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for

an answer.*

Any one of Bacon's acuteness, or of a quarter of it, might
easily have perceived, had he at all attended to th« context of
the narrative, that never was any one less in a jesting mood*
than Pilate on this occasion. He was anxious to release Jesus /
which must have been from a knowledge of the superhumr/L
powers of Him he had to do with. A man so unscrupulous
as Pilate is universally admitted to have been, could not have
felt any anxiety merely from a dislike of injustice ; and there-
fore his conduct is one confirmation of the reality of the nu-
merous miracles Jesus wrought. They, and they only, must
have filled him with dread of the consequences of doing any
wrong to such a person, and probably, also, inspired him with
a hope of furthering some ambitious views of his own, by
taking part with one whom he (in common with so many
others) expected to be just about to assume temporal dominion,
and to enforce his claim by resistless power. He tries to make
Him proclaim Himself a King ; and when Jesus does this, but
adds that his kingdom is not of this world, still Pilate catches
at the word, and says, ' Art thou a king, then V Jesus then
proceeds to designate who should be his subjects : ' Every one
tliat is of the Truth heareth my words :' as much as to say, ' I
claim a kingdom, not over the Israelites by race ; not over all
whom I can subjugate by force, or who will submit to me
through fear or interest ; but over the votaries of truth, — those
who are ' of the truth,' ' — those who are willing to receive what-
ever shall be proved true, and to follow wherever that shall
lead. And Pilate is at a loss to see what this has to do with
his inquiry. ' I am asking you about your claims to empire,
and you tell me about truth : what has truth to do with the
question ?'

Most readers overlook the drift of our Lord^s answer, and
interpret the words as a mere assertion (which every teacher
makes) of the truth of what He taught; as if He had said,
* Every one that heareth my words is of the Truth.'

Essay i.] Annotations. 5

And commentators usually satisfy themselves with such an
interpretation as makes the expression intelligible in itself,
without considering how far it is pertinent, A mere assertion
of the truth of his teaching would not have been at all relevant
to the inquiry made. But what he did say was evidently a
description of the persons who were to be the subjects of the
kingdom that ' is not of this world/

Much to the same eifect is his declaration that those who
should be his disciples indeed should ^ know the Truth/ and the
' Truth should make them free / and that .' if any man will do^
[is willing to do] ' the will of the Father, he shall know of
the doctrine/ Men were not to become his disciples in con-
sequence of their knowing and perceiving the truth of what He
taught, but in consequence of their having sufiBcient candour
to receive tli6 evidence which his miracles afforded, and being
so thoroughly ' of the Truth,' as to give themselves up to follow
wherever that should lead, in opposition to any prejudices or
inclinations of their own; and then knowledge of the Truth
was to be their reward. There is not necessarily any moral
virtue in receiving truth ; for it may happen that our interest,
or our wishes, are in the same direction ; or it may be forced
upon us by evidence as irresistible as that of a mathematical
demonstration. The virtue consists in being a sincere votary
of Truth j — what our Lord calls being ' of the Truth,' — ^rejecting
'the hidden things of dishonesty,' and carefully guarding against
every undue bias. Every one wishes to have Truth on his side;
bnt it is not every one that sincerely wishes to be on tJie side
of Truth.

' The inquiry of truth, which is the love-making or
wooing of it J ^

This love-making or wooing of Truth implies that first step
towards attaining the establishment of the habit of a steady
thorough-going adherence to it in all philosophic, and espe-
cially religious, inquiry — ^the strong conviction of its value. To
this must be united a distrust of ourselves. Men miss truth

* The dnef part of what foUows, I have taken the liberty to extract from the
^Snof on Truth (and Series), The different senses of the word * truth' are treated
cCm the 'EUmeid* ofLo^ic, app. L

6 Of Ti^th. [Essay i.

more often from their indifference about it than from intellec-
tual incapacity. A well-known statesman is reported to have
said that ' no gentleman would ever change his religion/ And
an author of some note^ a professed Protestant Christian^ has
been heard to declare that he thought very ill of any one who
did so ; ^ unless it were,' he said, ' one man in a million, — some
person of surpassing genius/ And this sentiment (which
implies a total indifference to truth and falsehood) has been
cited with approbation.

Some men, again, from supposing themselves to have found
truth, take for granted that it was for truth they were seeking.
But if we either care not to be lovers of Truth, or take for
granted that we are such, without taking any pains to acquire
the habit, it is not likely that we ever shall acquire it.

Many objections have been urged against the very effort to
cultivate such a habit. One is, that we cannot be required to
make Truth our main object, but happiness ; .that our ultimate
end is not the mere knowledge of what is /ni6, but the attain-
ment of what is good to ourselves and to others. But this,
when urged as an objection to the maxim, that Truth should be
sought for its own sake, is evidently founded on a mistake as
to its meaning. It is evident, in the first place, that it does
not mean the pursuit of all truth on all subjects. It would be
ridiculous for a single individual to aim at universal knowledge,
or even at the knowledge of all that is within the reach of the
human faculties and worthy of human study. The question is
respecting the pursuit of truth in each subject on which each
person desires to make up his mind and form an opinion. And
secondly, the purport of the maxim that in these points truth
should be our object, is, that not mere barren knowledge with-
out practice — ^truth without any ulterior end, should be sought,
but that truth should be sought and followed confidently, not
in each instance, only so far as we perceive it to be expedient,
and from motives of policy, but with a full conviction both that
it is, in the end, always expedient, with a view to the attain*
ment of ulterior objects (no permanent advantage being attain-
able by departing from it), and also, that, even if some end,
otherwise advantageous, covid be promoted by such a departure,
that alone would constitute it an evil ; — ^that truth, in short, is
in itself, independently of its results, preferable to error ; that

i.] Annotations. 7

honesty claims a preference to deceit, even without taking into
account its being the best policy.

Another objection, if it can be so called, is that a perfectly
candid and unbiassed state of mind — a habit of judging in each
case entirely according to the evidence — ^is unattainable. But
the same may be said of every other virtue : a perfect regula-
tion of any one of the human passions is probably not more
attainable than perfect candour; but we are not therefore to
give a loose to the passions ; we are not to relax our eflforts for
the attainment of any virtue on the ground that, after all, we
shall &11 short of perfection.

Another objection which has been urged is, that it is not
even desirable, were it possible, to bring the mind into a state
of perfectly unbiassed indifference, so as to weigh the evidence
in each case with complete impartiality. This objection arises,
I conceive, from an indistinct and con&sed notion of the sense
of the terms employed. A candid and unbiassed state of mind,
which is sometimes called indifference^ or impartiality, i. e., of the
judgment, does not imply an indifference of the tjMl — an absence
of all wish on either side, but merely an absence of aU influence
of the wishes in forming our decision, — aU leaning of the judg-
ment on the side of inclination, — all perversion of the evidence
in consequence. That we should wish to find truth on one side
rather than the other, is in many cases not only unavoidable,
but commendable ; but to think that true which we wish, with-
out impartially weighing the evidence on both sides, is undeni-
ably a folly, though a very common one. If a mode of effectual
and speedy cure be proposed to a sick man, he cannot but wish
that the result of his inquiries concerning it may be a well-
grounded conviction of the safety and efficacy of the remedy
prescribed. It would be no mark of wisdom to be indifferent
to the restoration of health ; but if his wishes should lead him
(as is frequently the case) to put implicit confidence in the
remedy without any just grounds for it, he would deservedly be
taxed with folly. '

In like manner (to take the instance above alluded to), a
good man will indeed wish to find the evidence of the christian
religion satisfactory, but will weigh the evidence the more care-
fdlly, on account of the importance of the question.

But indifference of the will and indifference of the judgment

8 Of Truth. [Essay i.

are two very distinct things that are often confounded. A
conclusion may safely be adopted, though in accordance with
inclination, provided it be not founded upon it. No doubt the
judgment is often biassed by the inclinations ; but it is possible,
and it should be our endeavour, to guard against this bias.
And by the way, it is utterly a mistake to suppose that the
bias is always in favour of the conclusion wished for;, it is often
in the contrary direction. There is in some minds an unrea-'
sonable doubt in cases where their wishes are strong — a morbid
distrust of evidence which they are especially anxious to find
conclusive. The proverbial expression of * too good news to be
true' bears witness to the existence of this feeling.* Each of us
probably has a nature leaning towards one or the other (often
towards both, at diflFerent times) of these infirmities ; — the over-
estimate or under-estimate of the reasons in favour of a conclu-
sion we earnestly desire to find true. Our aim should be, not
to fly from one extreme to the other, but to avoid both, and to
give a verdict according to the evidence, preserving the indiffe-
rence of the judgment even when the will cannot^ and indeed
should not, be indifferent.

There are persons, again, who, in supposed compliance with
the precept, ' Lean not to thine own understanding,' regard it
as a duty to suppress all exercise of the intellectual powers, in
every case where the feelings are at variance with the conclusions
of reason. They deem it right to * consult the heart more
than the head ;' that is, to surrender themselves, advisedly, to
the bias of any prejudice that may happen to be present; thus
deliberately, and on principle, burying in the earth the talent
entrusted to them, and hiding under a bushel the candle that
God has lighted up in the soul. But it is not necessary to
dwell on such a case, both because it i& not, I trust, a common
one, and also because those who are so disposed are clearly
beyond the reach of argument, since they think it wrong to
listen to it.

It is not intended to recommend presumptuous inquiries into
things beyond the reach of our faculties, — attempts to be wise
above what is written, — or groundless confidence in the cer-
tainty of our conclusions ; but unless reason be employed in
ascertaining what doctrines are revealed, humility cannot be
exercised in acquiescing in them ; and there is surely at least

L] Annotations. 9

as much presumption in measuring everything by our own
feelings, fancies^ and prejudices, as by our own reasonings.
Such voluntary humiliation is a prostration, not of ourselves
before God, but of one part of ourselves before another part,
and resembles the idolatry of the Israelites in the wilderness :
* The people stripped themselves of their golden ornaments,
and cast them into the fire, and there came out this calf/ We
ought to remember that the disciples were led by the dictates of
a sound understanding to say, ' No man can do these miracles
that thou doest, except Grod be with him / and thence to believe
and trust, and obey Jesus implicitly; but that Peter was led
by his heart (that is, his inclinations and prejudices) to say, ^Be it
far from thee, Lord ! there shall no such thing happen unto thee/
It is to be remembered also that the intellectual powers are
sometimes pressed into .the service, as it were, of the feelings,
and that a man may be thus misled, in a great measure, through
his own ingenuity. ' Depend on it,^ said a shrewd observer, when
inquired o^ what was to. be expected, from a certain man who
had been appointed to some high office, and of whose intelligence
he thought more favourably than of his uprightness, — ' depend
on it, he will never take any step that is bad, without having a
very good reason to give for it/ Now it is common to warn
men — and they are generally ready enough to take the warning
— ^against being thus misled by the ingenuity of another ; but a
person of more than ordinary learning and ability needs to be
carefully on bis guard against being misled by ^^t^ otvn.
Though conscious, perhaps, of his own power to dress up spe-
doQsly a bad cause, or an extravagant and fanciful theory, he
is conscious also of a corresponding power to distinguish sound
reasoning from sophistry. But this wiU not avail to protect
him from convincing himself by ingenious sophistry of his own,
if he has allowed himself to adopt some conclusion which pleases
his imagination, or favours some passion or self-interest. His
own superior intelligence will then be, as I have said, pressed
into the service of his inclinations. It is, indeed, no feeble
blow that win suffice to destroy a giant ; but if a giant resolves
to commit suicide, it is a giant that deals the blow. .

When, however,. we have made up our minds as to the im-
portance of seeking in every case for truth with an unprejudiced
mind, the greatest difficulty still remains ; which arises from

lo Of Truth. [Essay i.

the confidence we are apt to feel that we have already done this^
and have sought for truth with success. For every one must of
course be convinced of the truth of his own opinion^ if it be
properly called his opinion; and yet the variety of men's
opinions furnishes a proof how many must be mistaken. If
any one^ then, would guard against mistake, as far as his intel-
lectual faculties will allow, he must make it the first question
in each, ' Is this true V It is not enough to believe what you
maintain ; you must maintain what you believe, and maintain
it because you believe it ; and that, on the most careful and
impartial view of the evidence on both sides. For any one may
bring himself to believe almost anything that he is inclined to
believe, and thinks it becoming or expedient to maintain. Some
persons, accordingly, who describe themselves — in one sense,
correctly — as ^follovAng the dictates of conscience,* are doing so
only in the same sense in which a person who is driving in a
carriage may be said to foUow his horses, which go in whatever
direction he guides them. It is in a determination to ^ obey
the Truth,' and to follow wherever she may lead, that the
genuine love of truth consists; and. this can be realized in
practice only by postponing all other questions to that which
ought ever to come foremost — ' What is the truth V If this
question be asked only in the second place, it is likely to receive
a very different answer from what it would if it had been asked
in the first place. The minds of most men are preoccupied by
some feeling or other which influences their judgment (either
on the side of truth or of error, as it may happen) and enlists
their learning and ability on the side, whatever it may be,
which they are predisposed to adopt.

I shall merely enumerate a fewi of the most common of
these feelings that present obstacles to the pursuit or propaga-
tion of truth : — ^Aversion to doubt — desire of a supposed happy
medium — ^the love of system — ^the dread of the character of in-
consistency — the love of novelty — ^the dread of innovation —
undue deference to human authority — the love of approbation,
and the dread of censure — ^regard to seeming expediency.

The greatest of all these obstacles to the habit of following
truth is the last mentioned — the tendency to look, in the first
instance, to the expedient. It is this principle that influences
men to the reservation, or to the (so-called) development, but
real depravation, of truth ; and that leads to pious frauds in

Essay i.] Annotations. 1 1

one or other of the two classes into which they naturally fall, of
positive and negative — ^the one, the introduction and propagation
of what is false ; the other, the mere toleration of it. He who
propagates a delusion, and he who connives at it when already
existing, doth alike tamper with truth. We must neither lead
nor kave men to mistake £Edsehood for truth. Not to unde-
ceive is to deceive. The giving, or not correcting, false reasons
for right conclusions — ^false grounds for right belief — ^false prin-
ciples for right practice j the holding forth or fostering false
consolations, false encouragements, and false sanctions, or con-
niving at their being held forth or believed, are all pious frauds.
This springs from, and it will foster and increase, a want of
veneration for truth ; it is an affront put on ' the Spirit of
Truth :' it is a hiring of the idolatrous Syrians to fight the
battles of the Lord God of Israel. And it is on this ground
that we should adhere to the most scrupulous fairness of state-
ment and argument. He who believes that sophistry will
always in the end prove injurious to the cause supported by it, is
probably right in that belief; but if it be for that reason that
he abstains from it, — ^if he avoid fallacy, wholly or partly, through
fear of detection, — ^it is plain he is no sincere votary of truth.

It may be added that many who would never bring them-
selves to say anything positively false, yet need to be warned
against the falsehood of suppression or extenuation; — against
the un£umess of giving what is called a one-sided represen-
tation. Among writers (whether of argumentative works or
of fictions), even such as are far from wholly unscrupulous,
there are many who seem to think it allowable and right to set
forth all the good that is on one side, and all the evil on the
other. They compare together, and decide on, the gardens of
A and of B, after having culled from the one a nosegay of the
choicest flowers, and from the other all the weeds they could
spy. And those who object to this, are often regarded as
trimmers, or lukewarm, or inconsistent. But to such as deal
evenhanded justice to both sides, and lay down Scylla and
Charybdis in the same chart, — ^to them, and, generally speak-
ing, to them only, it is given to find that the fair course,
whidi they have pursued because it is the fair course, is also,
in the long run, the most expedient.

On the same principle, we are bound never to countenance any
erroneous opimon, however seemingly beneficial in its results —

la Of Truth. [Essay i.

never to connive at any salutary delusion (as it may appear),
but to open the eyes (when opportunity oflFers, and in propor-
tion as it offers) of those we are instructing, to any mistake they
may labour under, though it may be one which leads them
ultimately to a true result, and to one of which they might
otherwise feil. The temptation to depart from this principle is
sometimes excessively strong, because it will often be the case
that men will be in some danger, in parting with a long-
admitted error, of abandoning, at the same time, some truth
they have been accustomed to connect with it. Accordingly,
censures have been passed on the endeavours to enlighten the
adherents of some erroneous Churches, on the ground that
many of them thence become atheists, and many, the wildest
of fanatics. That this should have been in some instances the
case is highly probable ; it is a natural result of the pernicious
effects on the mind of any system of blind, uninquiring acqui-
escence; such a system is an Evil Spirit, which we must expect
wiU cruelly rend and mangle the patient as it comes out of
him, and will leave him half dead at its departure. There will
often be, and oftener appear to be, danger in removing a mis-
take ; the danger that those who have been long used to act
rightly on erroneous principles may fail of the desired conclu-
sions when undeceived. In such cases it requires a thorough
love of truth, and a firm reliance on divine support, to adhere
steadily to the straight course. If we give way to a dread of
danger fix)m the inculcation of any truth, physical, moral, or
religious, we manifest a want of faith in God's power, or in his
will to maintain his own cause. There may be danger attend-
ant on every truth, since there is none that may not be per-
verted by some, or that may not give offence to others ; but, in
the case of anything which plainly appears to be truth, every
danger must be braved. We must maintain the truth as we
have received it, and trust to Him who is ' the Truth * to prosper
and defend it.

That we shall indeed best further his cause by fearless per-
severance in an open and straight course, I am firmly persuaded;
but it is not only when we perceive the mischiefs of falsehood
and disguise, and the beneficial tendency of fairness and candour,
that we are to be followers of truth ; the trial of our faith is
when we cannot perceive this : and the part of a lover of Truth
is to follow her at all seeming hazards, after the example of

Essay i.] Annotations. 13

Him who ' came into the world that he should bear witness to
the Truth/ This straightforward course may not, indeed,
obtain * the praise of men/ Courage, liberality, activity, and
other good qualities, are often highly prized by those who do
not possess them in any great degree ; but the zealous, thorough-
going love of truth is not very much admired or liked, or indeed
understood, except by those who possess it. But Truth, as
Bacon says, 'only doth judge itself/ and, 'howsoever these
things are in men's depraved judgments and affections, it teacheth
that the inquiry of Truth, which is the love-making or wooing
of it — the knowledge of Truth, which is the presence of it — and
the belief of Truth, which is the enjoying of it — ^is the sovereign
good of human nature/

' There is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame, as to be
found false and perjidiotis.'

This holds good when falsehood is practised solely for a
man's private advantage : but, in a zealous and able partisan,
falsehood in the cause of the party will often be pardoned, and
even justified. We have lived to see the system called ^phe^
nakism/ ' double-floctrine/ or ' economy/ — that is, saying some-
thing quite different from what is inwardly believed,* not only
practised, but openly avowed and vindicated, and those who
practise it held up as models of pre-eminent holiness, not only
by those of their own party, but by others also.

When men who have repeatedly brought forward, publicly,

heavy charges against a certain Church, afterwards openly

declare that those charges were what they knew, at the time, to

be quite undeserved, they are manifestly proclaiming their own

insincerity. Perhaps they did beUeve — and perhaps they believe

still — that those charges are just; and if so, their present

disavowal is a falsehood. But if, as they now profess, the

chaises are what they believed to be calumnious falsehoods,

uttered because the same things had been said by some eminent

divines, and because they were ' necessary for our position'

then, they confess themselves 'false and perfidious/ and yet

they are not * covered with shame/

^ See an excellent discourse on 'Reflcrve,* Vy Archdeacon West. Sec also
Omniums for the Timei,^o. Jin. See also the Essay on ' Simulation.'

ESSAY 11. OF DEATH.

"|l TEN fear death as children fear to go into the dark ; and
-LtX as that natural fear in children is increased with tales^
so is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of deaths as the
wages of sin, and passage to another world, is holy and reli-
gious ; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature, is weak.
Yet in religious meditations there is sometimes mixture of
vanity and of superstition. You shall read in some of the
friars' books of mortification, that a man should think with
himself what the pain is, if he have but his finger's end
pressed, or tortured, and thereby imagine what the pains of
death are when the whole body is corrupted and dissolved;
when many times death passeth with less pain than the torture
of a limb— for the most vital parts are not the quickest of
sense : and by him that spake only as a philosopher and natural
man, it was well said, ^ Pompa mortis magis terret quam mors
ipsa.'* Groans, and convulsions, and a discoloured face, and
friends weeping, and blacks, and obsequies, and the like, show
death terrible.

It is worthy the observing, that there is no passion in the
mind of man so weak, but it mates^ and masters the fear of
death; and therefore death is no such terrible enemy when
a man hath so many attendants about him that can win
the combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death: love
slights it ; honour aspireth to * it ; grief flieth to it ; fear
pre-occupateth' it; nay, we read, after Otho the emperor
had slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest of affections) pro-

^ ' The pomp of death is more terrible than death itself.' Probably sttg^geeted
by a letter of Seneca to Lncilins, 24.

2 Mate. To subdue; vanquuhi overpower,

'The Frenchmen he hath so nwted
And their conrage abated^
That they are but half meiL'^^SleeHon,

* My sense she has maied'^^ShaJceapere.
So to give checkHitafe.
' Preoocupate. To anticipate,

' To provide so tenderly by preoccupation.
As no spider may suc^ poison out of a rose.' — Garnet,

Essay ii.] 0/ Death. 15

Tokcd* many to die out of mere compassion to their sovereign,
and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, Seneca adds, niceness
and satiety: * Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris; mori velle, non
tantnm fortis, aut miser, sed etiam fastidiosus potest/ ' ' A man
would die, though he were neither valiant nor miserable, only
upon a weariness to do the same thing so oft over and over/ It
is no less worthy to observe, how little alteration in good spirits
the approaches of death make ; for they appear to be the same
men till the last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a compli-
ment : ' Livia, conjugii nostri memor vive, et vale.' ' Tiberius
in dissimulation, as Tacitus saith of him, ' Jam Tiberium vires
et corpus, non dissimulatio, deserebant / ^ Vespasian in a jest,
sitting upon the stool, 'Ut puto Deus fio/ Galba with a
sentence, ' Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani,' * holding forth his
neck: Septimus Severus in dispatch, ^Adeste, si quid mihi
restat agendum,' ^ and the like. Certainly the Stoics bestowed
too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations made
it appear more fearful. Better, saith he, ' qui finem vitse ex-
tremum inter munera ponat naturse.'' It is as natural to die
as to be bom ; and to a little infant, perhaps, the one is as
painful as the other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is
Uke one that is wounded in hot blood ; who, for the time, scarce
feels the hurt ; and therefore a mind fixed and bent upon some-
what that is good, doth avert the dolours" of death : but, above
all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is, ' Nimc dimittis,'' when a
man hath obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath
this also, that it openeth the gate to good fame^ and extin-
goisheth envy: ' Extinctus amabitur idem.'"*

^ Provoke. To excUe; to move (to exertion or fueling of any kind, not, as now,
merely to anger). ' Your zeal hath provoked very many.' — 2 Cor, ix. 2.
* Ad LtieU. 77.

' ' LiTJa, mindfhl of oar wedlock, live, and £&rewelL' — Suet. Aug, Viet c. 100.
* ' His powers and bodily strength had abandoned Hberios, but not his diaamn-
)a&m:^A3mal, vL 5a
' ' strike, if it be for the benefit of the Itoman people.'— Tadt. SiH, i. 41.
' ' Hasten, if anything renuuns for me to do/ — Dio. Cos, ^6, ad fin,
^ ' Bb who aoeoonts &e dose of life among the boons of natnre.' — Juv. Sett, 357.
'Bdonrs. PoMt.

* He drew the dolourt from the woonded part.'— Pope's Sbmer,
* 'T^ow letAest thoa thy servant depart.' — Luke ii. 39.
^ 'The Bune man shall he beloved when dead.'

i6 Of Death. [Essay ii.

ANTITHETA ON DEATH.

Pbo. Contra.

'Noninvenias inter hamanoB affectum 'Pnestat ad omnia, etiam ad virtu-

tarn pusillum, qui si intendatur paulo tern, curriculum longum, quam breve,
vehementius, non mortis metum superet. ' In all things, even in virtue, a long

* There is no human passion so weak race is more conducive to success than a
and contemptible, that it mag not easilg short one,*
he so heightened as to overcome the fear

of death,* 'Absque spatiis vitae majoribus, nee

perfioere datur, nee perdiscere, nee
poenitere.

* It is onlg in a long life thai time is
afford^ us to complete anything, to
learn anything thoroughly, or to reform
oneself.*

ANNOTATIONS.

^ There is no passion in the mind of man so weak bui it mates
and masters the fear of death.*

Of all the instances that can be given of recklessness of life^
there is none that comes near that of the workman employed
in what is called rfry-pointing ; the grinding of needles and of
table-forks. The fine steel-dust which they breathe brings oa a
painful disease of which they are almost sure to die before forty.
And yet not only are men tempted by high wages to engage in
this employment, but they resist to the utmost all the con-
trivances devised for diminishing the danger ; through fear that
this would cause more workmen to ofier themselves, and thus
lower wages !

The case of sailors, soldiers, miners, and others who engage
in hazardous employments, is nothing in comparison of this;
because people of a sanguine temper hope to escape the dangers.
But the dry-pointers have to encounter, not the risk, but the
certainty, of an early and painful death. The thing would seem
incredible, if it were not so fiilly attested. All this proves that
avarice overcomes the fear of death. And so may vanity : 'witness
the many women who wear tight dresses, and will even employ
washes for the complexion which they know to be highly dan-
gerous and even destructive to their health.

ii.] Annotations. 17

* Certainly the contemplation of death, as the wages of sin and
the passage to another world, is holy and religioiis/

It is when considered as the passage to another world that
the contemplation of death becomes holy and religious ; — that
is^ calculated to promote a state of preparedness for our setting
out on this great voyage,— our departure from this world to
enter the other. It is manifest that those who are engrossed
with the things that pertain to this life alone ; who are devoted
to worldly pleasure, to worldly gain, honour, or power, are cer-
tainly not preparing themselves for the passage into another :
while it is equally manifest that the change of heart, of desires,
wishes, tastes, thoughts, dispositions, which constitutes a meet-
ness for entrance into a happy, holy, heavenly state, — the hope
of which can indeed ' mate and master the fear of death,' —
must take place here on earth; not after death.

There is a remarkable phenomenon connected with insect
life which has often occurred to my mind while meditating on
the subject of preparedness for a future state, Us presenting a
curioos analogy.

Most persons know that eveiy butterfly (the Greek name for
which, it is remarkable, is the same that signifies also the Soul, —
Psyche) comes firom a grub or caterpillar ; in the language of
naturalists called a larva. The last name (which signifies lite-
rally a mask) was introduced by Linnseus, because the cater-
pillar is a kind of outward covering, or disguise, of the future
butterfly within. For, it has been ascertained by curious micro-
loopic examination, that a distinct butterfly, only undeveloped
and not full-grown, is contained within the body of the cater-
pillar ; that this latter has its own organs of digestion, respira-
tion, &c., suitable to its larva-life, quite distinct firom, and inde-
pendent of, the future butterfly which it encloses. When the
proper period arrives, and the life of the insect, in this its first
stage, is to dose, it becomes what is called a pupa, enclosed in
a chrysalis or cocoon (often composed of silk ; as is that of the
dlkworm which supplies us that important article), and lies
torpid for a time within this natural coflSn, firom which it
isaoes, at the proper period, as a perfect butterfly.

But sometimes this process is marr^. There is a numerous
tnbe of insects well known to naturalists, called Ichneumon-

c

i8 Of Death. [Essay ii.

flies; which in their larva-state ^xe parasitical ; that is, inhabit,
and feed on, other larvae. The ichneumon-fly, being provided
with a long sharp sting, which is in fact an ovipositor (egg-
layer), pierces with this the body of the caterpillar in several
places, and deposits her eggs, which are there hatched, and
feed, as grubs (larvse) on the inward parts of their victim. A
most wonderful circumstance connected with this process is, that
a caterpillar which has been thus attacked goes on feeding,
and apparently thriving quite as well, during the whole of its
larva-life, as those that have escaped. For, by a wonderful
provision of instinct, the ichneumon-grubs within do not injure
any of the organs of the larva, but feed only on the future
butterfly enclosed within it. And consequently, it is hardly
possible to distinguish a caterpillar which has these enemies
within it from those that are untouched, — But when the period
arrives for the close of the larva-life, the diflference appears.
You may often observe the common cabbage-caterpillars retiring,
to undergo their change, into some sheltered spot, — such as the
walls of a summer-house; and some of them — those that have
escaped the parasites, — assuming the pupa-state, from which
they emerge, butterflies. Of the unfortunate caterpillar that
has been preyed upon, nothing remains but an empty skin. The
hidden butterfly has been secretly consumed.

Now is there not something analogous to this wonderfiil
phenomenon, in the condition of some of our race ? — ^may not
a man have a kind of secret enemy within his own bosom, de-
stroying his soul, — Psyche, — ^though without interfering with his
well-being during the present stage of his existence; and whose
presence may never be detected till the time arrives when the
last great change should take place?

' Death hath this also, that it openeth the gate to good fame, and
extingvisheth envy^

Bacon might have added, that the generosity extended to
the departed is sometimes carried rather to an extreme. To
abstain from censure of them is fidr enough. But to make
an ostentatious parade of the supposed admirable qualities of
persons who attracted no * notice in their life-time, and again
(which is much more common), to publish laudatory biographies
{to say nothing of raising subscriptions for monumental testi-

Essay ii.] Annotations, ig

monials) of persons who did attract notice in a disreputable
way, and respecting whom it would have been the kindest thing
to let them be forgotten, — this is surely going a little too far.

But private fnends and partizans are tempted to pursue this
course by the confidence that no one will come forward to con-
tradict them: according to the lines of Swift, —

< De mortais nil nisi bonnm ;
When scoundrels die, let aU bemoan 'em.'

Then, again, there are some who bestow eulogisms that are
really just, on persons whom they had always been accustomed
to revile, calumniate, thwart, and persecute on every occasion ;
and this they seem to regard as establishing their own cha-
racter for eminent generosity. Nor are they usually mistaken
in their calculation ; for if not absolutely commended for their
magnanimous moderation, they usually escape, at least, the
well-deserved reproach for not having done justice, during his
life, to the object of their posthumous praises, — for having been
occupied in opposing and insulting one who — by their own
showing — deserved quite contrary treatment.

It may fairly be suspected that the one circumstance respect-
ing him which they secretly dwell on with the most satisfaction,
though they do not mention it, is that he is dead; and that
they delight in bestowing their posthumous honours on him,
chiefly because they are posthumom ; according to the conclud-
ing couplet in the Verses on the Death of Dean Swift : —

' And since yon dread no further Icuhe^,
Methinks yon may forgive his ashes.'

But the public is wonderfully tolerant of any persons who
wiD but, in any way, speak favourably of the dead, even when
by 80 doing they pronounce their own condemnation.

Sometimes, however, the opposite fault is committed. Strong
party feeling will lead zealous partizans to misrepresent the con-
duct and character of the deceased, or to ignore (according to the
modem phrase) some of the most remarkable things done by him.*

But then they generally put in for the praise of generosity
by eulogizing some very insignificant acts, and thus ' danm with
&mt praise.'

^ See an instance of this alluded to in the Eemaina of Bishop Copletton,
» 89-93.

C 2

ESSAY III. OF UNITY IN RELIGION.

RELIGION being the chief bond of human society, it is a
happj thing when itself is well contained within the true
bond of unity. The quarrels and divisions about religion were
evils unknown to the heathen. The reason was, because the
religion of the heathen consisted rather in rites and ceremonies
than in any constant belief; for you may imagine what kind
of faith theirs was, when the chief doctors' and fathers of their
church were the poets. But the true God hath this attribute,
that He is a jealous Gt)d f and therefore his worship and reli-
gion will endure no mixture nor partner. We shall therefore
speak a few words concerning the unity of the Church ; what
are the fruits thereof; what the bonds; and what the means.

The fruits of unity (next unto the well-pleasing of God,
which is all in all) are two ; the one towards those that are
without the Church, the other towards those that are within.
For the former, it is certain, that heresies and schisms are of
all others the greatest scandals, yea, more than corruption of
manners ; for as in the natural body a wound or solution of
continuity' is worse than a corrupt humour, so in the spiritual :
so that nothing doth so much keep men out of the Church, and
drive men out of the Church, as breach of unity; and, there*
fore, whensoever it cometh to that pass that one saith, ' Ecce
in deserto,'* another saith, 'Ecce in penetralibus,^ * — that is,
when some men seek Christ in the conventicles of heretics, and
others in an outward face of a Church, that voice had need
continually to sound in men's ears, * Nolite exire." The Doctor
of the Gentiles (the propriety' of whose vocation' drew him to

' Doctors. Teachert, ' Sitting in the midst of the <2oe^«.'— XdEre ii. 46.

• Exodvs XX. 5.

• Solution of continuity. The dettmcHan of the texUtre, or eohenon qf the part *
of an animal hody, * The solid parts may be contracted by dissolving their ron-
timUty.* — Arbuthnot.

^ < Lo ! in the desert' " Lo ! in the sanctuary.' — M<Ut, zxiv. 36.

• * Go not out.' ' Propriety. Peculiar quality ; property.

« Vocation. CaUiny ; Hate of life and duties of the embraced profession, * That
every member of thy holy church in his vocation and ministry.'— Co^^^c^/ar Good
Friday. 1

I

iii.] Of Unity in Religion* 2i

hare a special care of those without) saith^ ' If a heathen come
in, and hear you speak with several tongues^ will he not say
that you are mad?'^ and certainly it is little better: when
atheists and profane persons do hear of so many discordant and
contiury opinions in religion, it doth avert' them firom the Church,
and maketh them ' to sit down in the chair of the scomers/

It is but a light thing to be vouched in so serious a matter,
but yet it expresseth well the deformity; there is a master
of scoffing, that in his catalogue of books of a feigned library,
sets down this title of a book, The Morris Dance of Heretics :'
for, indeed, every sect of them hath a diverse^ posture, or
cringe,* by themselves, which cannot but move derision in
worldlings and depraved politics,' who are apt to contemn holy
things.

As for the firuit towards those that are within, it is peace,
which containeth infinite blessings; it establisheth faith; it
kindleth charity; the outward peace of the Church distilleth
into peace of conscience, and it turneth the labours of writing
and reading controversies into treatises of mortification^ and
devotion.

Concerning the bonds of unity, the true placing of them
importeth^ exceedingly. There appear to be two extremes ; for
to certain zealots all speech of pacification is odious. ' Is it
peace, Jehu ?' ' What hast thou to do with peace ? turn thee

' I Oor. xiv. 33.

* Arert. To repd ; to turn away, * Even cot themselyes off from all oppor«
tanities of proflelyting others by avertinff them from their company/ — Venn.

' Rabelais. Pantag. iL 7.

* Diverse. Difflereni, * Four great beasts came up from the sea, diverse one
from another.' — Daniel vii. 3.

* Ciinge. A bow. Seldom used as a substantive.

* Far from me
Be &wning eringe, and fahie dissembling looks.' — Phillips,
* He is the new coort-goii, and weU applyes
With sacrifice of knees, of crooks, and cringe.* — Ben Jonson,

* Politics. PolUieians, ' That which time severs and poUUcs do for earthly
advantsigeR, we will do for spiritnaL' — Bishop Hall,

' Mortification. The subduing of sinful propensities, (Onr modem use never
ceeors in iScriptnre, where the word always means < to put to death.') ' You see
w» real mortificoHon, or self-deniaL or eminent charity in the common lives of
vtanstiaiis.' — Laws,

• Import. To he of weight or consequence.

* What else more serious
I»porfe«itheeto know— this bears.'— i5Aa*«pertf.

22 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iiL

behind me/' Peace is not the matter, but following and party.
Contrariwise, certain Laodiceans and lukewarm persons think
they may accommodate^ points of religion by middle ways, and
taking part of both, and witty^ reconcilements, as if they would
make an arbitrement^ between God and man. Both these
extremes are to be avoided ; which will be done if the league of
Christians, penned by our Saviour Himself, were in the two
cross clauses thereof soundly and plainly expounded : ' He that
is not with us is against us/ and again, 'He that is not
against us is with us ;' that is, if the points fundamental, and
of substance in religion, were truly discerned and distinguished
from points not merely* of faith, but of opinion, order, or good
intention. This is a thing may seem to many a matter trivial,
and done already ; but if it were done less partially, it would
be embraced more generally.

Of this I may give only this advice, according to my small
model. Men ought to take heed of rending Grod^s Church by
two kinds of controversies ; the one is, when the matter of the
point controverted is too small and light, nor worth the heat and
strife about it, kindled only by contradiction ; for, as it is noted
by one of the Mhers, Christ^s coat indeed had no seam, but the
Churches vesture was of divers colours; whereupon he saith, ' In
veste varietas sit, scissura non sit,^' — they be two things, unity,
and imiformity ; the other is, when the matter of the point
controverted is great, but it is driven to an over-great subtilty
and obscurity, so that it becometh a thing rather ingenious than
substantial.' A man that is of judgment and understanding
shall sometimes hear ignorant men differ, and know well within
himself that those which so differ mean one thing, and yet they
themselves would never agree : and if it come so to pass in that

* I Kings ix. 13.

^ Aooommodate. To reconcile what seems inconnsteni. 'Part know how to
accommod<ite St James and St. Panl better than some late reooncilen.' — Norrit.

* Witty. Ingenious; inventive,

* The deep-revolving witty Bnckingham.*— iS'AaiSrefptfrtf.
^ Axbitrement. Final decision; judgment,

* We of the offending side
Moat keep aloof from strict arbitrements,*'-^Shakespere.

* Merely. Absolutely; purely; unreservedly (from the Latin mervts),

' We are merely cheated of onr lives by dmnkards.' — Shakespere,
^ ' Let there be variety in the robe» but let there be no rent.'

Essay iii.] OJ Unity in Religion, 23

distance of jodgment wbicli is between man and man^ shall we
not think that Grod above, that knows the heart, doth not
discern that frail men, in some of their contradiction^, intend
the same thing, and accepteth^ of both ? The nature of such
controversies is excellently expressed by St. Paul, in the warning
and precept that he giveth concerning the same, ' Devita pro-
ianas vocum novitates et oppositiones falsi nominis scientiae/^
Men create oppositions which are not, and put them into new
terms so fixed ; as^ whereas the meaning ought to govern the
term, the term in ejBfect governeth the meaning.

There be also two false peaces, or unities : the one, when
the peace is grounded but upon an implicit ignorance ; for all
colours will agree in the dark : the other, when it is pieced up
upon a direct admission of contraries in fundamental points; for
truth and falsehood in such things are like the iron and clay in
the toes of Nebuchadnezzar's image^ — they may cleave but they
will not incorporate.

Concerning the means of procuring unity, men must beware,
that in the procuring or muniting* of religious unity, they do
not dissolve and deface the laws of charity and of human society.
There be two swords amongst Christians, the spiritual and the
temporal, and both have their due o£Bce and place in the main-
tenance of religion ; but we may not take up the third sword,
which is Mahomet^s sword, or like unto it — that is, to propagate
religion by wars, or by sanguinary persecutions to force con-
sciences — except it be in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or
intermixture of practice against the state ; much less to nourish
seditions ; to authorise conspiracies and rebellions ; to put the
sword into the people's hands, and the like, tending to the
subversion of all government, which is the ordinance of God ;

' Accept of. To approve; receive favowably, * I wiU appease him with the
prewat that goeth before me, . . . peradventure he will accept of me* — Oen, xxzii.
^ ' Avoid pro&ne and vain babblings, and oppositions of science fiUsely so called.'
— I Km. vL 20.

' Aa. That {denoting consequence), ' The mariners were so oonqnered by the storm
«• they thought it best with stricken suls to yield to be governed by it.' — Sidney,
^ Daniel vL 33.

* Mmuting. The defending ; fortifying, * By protracting of tyme. King Henry
VB^t fbrti^ and mmf^ie all dangerous places and passages.' — RaU, ' All that
fight against her and her mwUtions,* — Jer. xxix. 7.
* The arm our soldier.
Our steed the leg, the ton^e our trumpeter,
With other munimente and petty hel^'-^Skakespere.

24 Oj Unity in Beliffion. [Essay iii.

for this is but to dash the first table against the second ; and
so to consider men as Christians^ as' we forget that they
are men, Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of Aga-
memnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his own daughter,
exclaimed : —

'Tantrnn religio potuit snadere malomm.''

What would he have said, if he had known of the massacre in
France, or the powder treason of England? He would have
been seven times more epicure* and atheist than he was ; for as
the temporal sword is to be drawn with great circumspection in
cases of religion, so it is a thing monstrous to put it into the
hands of the common people ; let that be left to the anabaptists
and other furies. It was great blasphemy when the devil said,
' I will ascend and be like the Highest ;* but it is greater
blasphemy to personate God, and bring him in saying, ' I will
descend and be like the prince of darkness -/ and what is it
better, to make the cause of religion to descend to the cruel
and execrable actions of murdering princes, butchery of people,
and subversion of states and governments ? Surely this is to
bring down the Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove,
in the shape of a vulture or raven ; and to set out of the bark
of a CHiristian church, a fiag of a bark of pirates and assassins :
therefore it is most necessary that the Church, by doctrine and
decree, princes by their sword, and all learning, both christian
and moral, as by their mercury rod to damn and send to hell
for ever, those facts and opinions tending to the support of the
same, as hath been already in good part done. Surely in
councils concerning religion, that counsel of the Apostle should
be prefixed, ' Ira hominis non implet justitiam Dei /* and it was
a notable observation of a wise father, and no less ingenuously
confessed, that those which held and persuaded* pressure of
consciences, were commonly interested therein themselves for
their own ends.

^ As. Th<tt, See page 23.

^ • So many evils oould religion induce.' — Lucret. i. 95.

'Epicure. JEpicurean ; a follower of Spicurus. ' Here he describeth the fury
of the Epicures, which is the highest and deepest mischief of all ; even to contempae
the very God.' * Isaiah ziv. 14.

^ ' The wrath of man worketh not the rigfateonsneas of God.' — James L 20.

' Persuade. To inculcaie. ' To children afraid of vain images, we persuade
confidence by making them handle and look near such things.'— ^wAop Taylor*

Sssay iii.] Aimotatiora. 25

ANNOTATIONS.

^ It is a happy thing when Religion is well contained within the
true bond of unity J^

It is, therefore, very important to have a clear notion of the
nature of the christian unity spoken of in the Scriptures, and
to understand in what this ' true bond of unity ' consists, so
often alluded to and earnestly dwelt on by our Sacred Writers.
The unity they speak of does not mean agreement in doctrine.
nor yet concord and mutual good will ; though these are strongly
insisted on by the Apostles. Nor, again, does it mean that all
Christians belong, or ought to belong, to some one society on
earth. This is what the Apostles never aimed at, and what
never was actually the state of things, from the time that the
christian religion extended beyond the city of Jerusalem. The
Church is undoubtedly OTie, and so is the human race one ; but
not as a society or community, for, as such, it is only ovie when
considered as to its future existence.' The teaching of Scrip-
ture clearly is, that believers on earth are part of a great society
{church or congregation), of which the Head is in heaven, and
of which many of the members only * live unto God,' or exist
in his counsels, — some having long since departed, and some
being not yet bom. The universal Church of Christ may there-
fore be said to be ONE in reference to HIM, its supreme Head
in heaven ; but it is not one community on earth. And even
80 the human race is one in respect of the One Creator and
Govemcr ; but this does not make it one family or one state.
And though all men are bound to live in peace, and to
be kindly disposed towards every feDow creature, and all bound
to agree in thinking and doing whatever is right, yet they
are not at all bound to live under one single government,
extending over the whole world. Nor, again, are all nations
bound to have the same form of government, regal or repub-
lican, &c. That is a matter left to their discretion. But all
are bound to do their best to promote the great objects for
which all government is instituted, — good order, justice, and
public prosperity.

^ Great part of wbat follows is extracted from a Charge of some years back.
* See Bishop Hind's History of the Origin of Christianity. See also Cautions
JWtteK««f,Ko.a.

26 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

And even so the Apostles founded cliristian churches^ all
based on the same principles, all sharing common privil^es, —
' One Lord, one faith, one baptism,' — and all having the same
object in view, but all quite independent of each other. And
while, by the inspiration of Him who knew what was in Man,
they delineated those christian principles which man could not
have devised for himself, each Church has been left, by the
same divine foresight, to make the application of those princi-
ples in its symbols, its forms of worship, and its ecclesiastical
regulations; and, while steering its course by the chart and
compass which his holy Word supplies, to regulate for itself the
sails and rudder, according to the winds and currents it may
meet with.

Now, I have little doubt that the sort of variation resulting
from this independence and freedom, so far from breaking the
bond, is the best preservative of it. A number of neighbouring
families, living in perfect unity, will be thrown into discord as
soon as you compel them to form one family, and to observe in
things intrinsically indifferent, the same rules. One, for in*
stance, likes early hours, and another late ; one likes the windows
open, and another shut ; and thus, by being brought too close
together, they are driven into ill-will, by one being perpetually
forced to give way to another. Of this character were the dis-
putations which arose (though they subsequently assumed a
different character) about church music, the posture of the com-
municants, the colours of a minister's dress, the time of keeping
Easter, &c.

This independence of each Church is not to be confounded
with the error of leaving too much to individual discretion of
the minister or members of each Church. To have absolutely
no terms of communion at all, — no tests of the fitness of any
one to be received as a member^ or a member of each Church
respectively, — would be to renounce entirely the character of a
christian Church ; since of such a body it is plain that a Jew,
a Polytheist, or an Atheist might, quite as consistently as a
Christian, be a member, or even a governor. And though the
Scriptures, and the Scriptures only, are to be appealed to for a
decision on questions of doctrine, yet to have (as some have
wildly proposed) no test of communion but the very words of
Scripture^ would be scarcely less extravagant than having no

Essay iii.] Annotations. ay

test at all^ since there is no one professing Christianity who
does not maintain that his sentiments are in accordance with
the true meaning of Scripture^ however absurd or pernicious
these sentiments may really be. For it is notorious that
Scripture itself is at least as liable as human formularies (and
indeed more so) to have forced interpretations put on its
language.

Accordingly, there is no christian community which does
not, in some way or other, ^PP^y ^^^ other test besides the
very words of Scripture. Some churches, indeed^ do not
reduce any such test to writing, or express it in any fisped
form, so as to enable every one to know beforehand precisely
how much he will be required to bind himself to. But, never-
theless, these Churches do apply a test, and very often a much
more stringent, elaborate, and minute test than our Liturgy and
Articles. In such communities, the candidate pastor of a
congregation is not, to be sure, called on to subscribe in writing
a definite confession of faith, drawn up by learned and pious
persons after mature deliberation, and publicly set forth by
common authority, — but he is called upon to converse with the
leading members of the congregation, and satisfy them as to the
soundness of his views; not, of course, by merely repeating
texts of Scripture — which a man of any views might do, and do
honestly ; but by explaining the sense in which he understands
the Scriptures. Thus, instead of subscribing the Thirty-nine
Articles J he subscribes the sentiments of the leading members —
for the time being — of that particular congregation over which
he is to be placed as teacher.'

And thus it is that tests of some kind or other, written or
unwritten (that is, transmitted by oral tradition), fixed for the
whole Body, or variable, according to the discretion of par-
ticular governors, are, and must be, used in every christian
Church. This is doing no more than is evidently allowable
amd expedient. But it is quite otherwise when any Church,
by an imwarradtable assumption, requires all who would claim

* Cmdiontfor the Times, p. 45 1. I have known, acoordinglj, a minister of a
eontinental Protestant Chnrch atrongly object to all subscriptions to Articles, say-
ing, that a man ihoold only be called on to profess his belief in Jesus Christ ; and
yet, a few minutes afterwards, denouncing as a ' Rationalist' another Protestant

aS Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

the christian name to assent to her doctrines and conform to
her worship, whether they approve of them or not, — to renounce
all exercise of their own judgment, and to profess belief in what-
ever the Church has received or may hereafter receive.

' The religion of the heathen constated rather in rites and cere*
monies than in any constaitt religums belief • • • But the
true God hath this attribute/ 8fc.

Bacon here notices the characteristic that distinguishes the
christian religion from the religion of the heathen. The reli-
gion of the heathen not only was not true, but was not even
supported as true; it not only deserved no belief, but it
demanded none. The very pretension to truth — ^the very de-
mand of faith — were characteristic distinctions of Christianity.
It is truth resting on evidence, and requiring belief in it, on
the ground of its truth. The first object, therefore, of the
adherents of such a religion must be that Truth which its divine
Author pointed out as defining the very nature of his kingdom,
of his objects, and of his claims. ' For this cause came I into
the world, that I might bear witness unto the truth. Every one
that is of the truth heareth my voice/* And if Truth could be
universally attained. Unity would be attained also, since Truth
is one. On the other hand. Unity may conceivably be attained
by agreement in error ; so that while by the universal adoptiou
of a right faith, unity would be secured, incidentally, the attain-
ment of unity would be no security for truth.

It is in relation to the paramount claim of truth that the
view we have given of the real meaning of Church Unity in
Scripture is of so much importance ; for the mistake of repre-
senting it as consisting in having one community on earth, to
which all Christians belong, or ought to belong, and to whose
government all are bound to submit, has led to truth being
made the secondary, and not the paramount, object.*

What the Romanist means by renouncing 'pmvate judgment*
and adhering to the decisions of the Church, is, substantially^
what many Protestants express by saying, ' We make truth the
first and paramount object, and the others, unity/ The two

* John xvui. 37. • See Charge on the CleUnu of Troth and of Unity.

iii.] Annotations. 29

expressions^ when rightly understood, denote the same; but
they each require some explanation to prevent their being
understood incorrectly, and even imfairly.

A Roman Catholic does exercise private judgment, once for
all, if (not through carelessness, but on Earnest and solemn deli-
beration) he resolves to place himself completely under the
guidance of that Church (as represented by his priest) which he
judges to have been divinely appointed for that purpose. And
in so doing he considers himself, not as manifesting indifference
about truth, but as taking the way by which he will attain
either complete and universal religious truth, or at least a
greater amount of it than could have been attained otherwise.
To speak of such a person as indifferent about truth, would be
not only uucharitable, but also as unreasonable as to suppose a
man indifferent about his health, or about his property, because,
distrusting his own judgment on points of medicine or of law,
he places himself under the direction of those whom he has
judged to be the most trustworthy physician and lawyer.

On the other hand, a Protestant, in advocating private judg-
ment, does not, as some have represented, necessarily maintain
that every man should set himself to study and interpret for
himself the Scriptures (which, we should recollect, are written
in the Hebrew and Greek languages), without seeking or accept-
ing aid from any instructors, whether under the title of trans-
lators (for a translator, who claims no inspiration, is, manifestly,
a human instructor of the people as to the sense of Scripture),
or whether called commentators, preachers, or by whatever
other name. Indeed, considering the multitude of tracts,
commentaries, expositions, and discourses of various forms, that
have been put forth and assiduously circulated by Protestants
of all denominations, for the avowed purpose (be it well or ill
executed) of giving religious instruction, it is really strange
that such an interpretation as I have alluded to should ever
have been put on the phrase 'private judgment.' For, to
advert to a parallel case of daily occurrence, all would recom-
mend a student of mathematics, for instance, or of any branch
of natural philosophy, to seek the aid of a well-qualified pro-
fessor or tutor. And yet he would be thought to have studied
in vain, if he should ever think of taking on trust any mathe-
matical or physical truth on the word of his instructors. It is,

30 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

on the contrary, their part to teach him how — by demonstration
or by experiment — to verify each point for himself.

On the other hand, the adherents of a Church claiming to be
infallible on all essential points, and who, consequently, pro-
fess to renounce private judgment, these (besides that, as has
been just said, they cannot but judge for themselves as to one
point — ^that very claim itself) have also room for the exercise of
judgment, and often do exercise it, on questions as to what
points are essential, and for which, consequently, infallible recti-
tude is insured. Thus the Jansenists, when certain doctrines
were pronounced heretical by the Court of Rome, which con-
demned Jansenius for maintaining them, admitted, as in duty
bound, the decision that they were heretical, but denied that
they were implied in Jansenius's writings ; and of this latter
point the Pope, they said, was no more qualified or authorised
to decide than any other man. And we should be greatly
mistaken if we were to assume that all who have opposed what
we are accustomed to call ' the Reformation ' were satisfied that
there was nothing in their Church that needed reform, or were
necessarily indifferent about the removal of abases. We know
that, on the contrary, many of them pointed out and complained
of, and studied to have remedied, simdry corruptions that had
crept into their Church, and which were, in many instances,
sanctioned by its highest authorities.

Sincere, one must suppose, and strong, must have been the
conviction of several who both did and suflered much in labour-
ing after such remedy. And it would be absurd, as well as
uncharitable, to take for granted that Erasmus, for instance,
and, still more, Pascal, and all the Jansenists, were withheld
merely by personal fear, or other personal motives, from revolt-
ing against the Church of Rome. But they conceived, no
doubt, that what they considered Church-Unity was to be pre-
served at any cost ; that a separation from what they regarded
as the Catholic (or Universal) Church, was a greater evil than
all others combined. If, without loss of unity, they could suc-
ceed in removing any of those other evils, for such a reform
they would gladly labour. But, if not, to Unity anything and
everything was to be sacrificed.

Such seems to have been the sentiment of a Roman Catholic
priest, apparently a man of great simplicity of character, who.

Essay iii.] Annotations. 31

about three or four years ago, had interviews, at his own desire,
with several of our bishops. He spoke very strongly of the
unseemingly and lamentable spectacle (and who could not but
agree with him in thinking it ?) of disunion and contention
among Christ's professed followers ; and he dwelt much upon
the duty of earnestly praying and striving for unity.

In reference to this point, it was thought needful to remind
him, that two parties, while apparently agreeing in their prayers
and endeavours for unity, might possibly mean by it different
things; the one imderstanding by it the submission of all
Christians to the government of one single ecclesiastical com-
mumty on earth ; the other, merely mutual kindness and agree-
ment in &ith. Several passages of Scripture were pointed out
to him, tending to prove that the churches founded by the
Apostles were all quite independent of each other, or of any
one central Body. To one among the many passages which go
to prove this, I directed his especial attention ; that in which
Paul's final interview (as he believed it) with the elders of
Miletus and Ephesus is recorded [Acts xx.). Foreseeing the
dangers to which they would be exposed, even from false teachers
amongst themselves, and of which he had been earnestly warn-
ing them for three years, it is inconceivable that he should not
have directed them to Peter or his successors at Rome or else-
where^ if he had known of any central supreme Church, pro-
vided as an infisdlible guide, to whose decisions they might
safely refer when doubts or disputes should arise. It follows
therefore inevitably that he knew of none. But all Christiana
were exhorted to ' keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of
peace/ Such unity, he was reminded (for he was formerly a
minister of omr Church), is the subject of a special petition in
onr Prayer for all Conditions of Men, and in several others.

It was remarked to him, that Truth had a paramount claim
to be the first object ; and that since Truth is one, all who
reach Truth will reach Unity ; but that men may, and often
do, gain Unity without Truth.

He was reminded, moreover, that agreement among Chris-
tians, though an object we should wish for, and endeavour by
all allowable means to promote, must, after all, depend on others
as much as on ourselves ; and our endeavour may be com-
pletely defeated through their fault : whereas truth is a benefit

32 Of Unity in Religion, [Essay iii.

— and a benefit of the first importance — ^to those who receive it
themselves^ even though they should have to lament its rejection
by many others.

And it was pointed out to him, that to pray and strive for
truth; and to be ever open to conviction, does not (as he seemed
to imagine . (imply a wavering faith, and an anticipation of
change. When any one prints from moveable types, this does
not imply that he has committed, or that he suspects, typogra-
phical errors, any more than if he had employed an engraved
plate. The types are not moveable in the sense of being loose
and liable to casual change. He may be challenging all the
world to point out an error, showing that any can be corrected
if they do detect one ; though, perhaps, he is fully convinced
that there are none.

He was, in conclusion, reminded that ' no man can serve
two masters;' not because they are necessarily opposed, but
because they are not necessarily combined, and cases may arise
in which the one must give way to the other. There is no
necessary opposition even between ' God and Mammon/ if by
* Mammon' we understand worldly prosperity. For it will
commonly happen that a man will thrive the better in the
world from the honesty, frugality, and temperance which he
may be practising from higher motives. And there is not even
anything necessarily wrong in aiming at temporal advantages.
But whoever is resolved on obtaining wealth in one way or
another {' si poesis, recte ; si non, quocunque modo, rem') will
occasionally be led to violate duty ; and he, again, who is fully
bent on ^ seeking first the kingdom of Gk>d and his righteous-
ness,' will sometimes find himself called on to incur temporal
losses. And so it is with the occasionally rival claims of Truth,
and of Unity, or of any two objects which may possibly be, in
some instance, opposed. We must make up our minds which
is, in that case, to give way. One must be the supreme, — ^must
be the ' master.'

'Either he will love the one and hate the other.' This
seems to refer to cases in which a radical opposition between
the two does exist: 'or else he wiU cleave to the one,
and despise (i. e. disr^ard and neglect) the other.' This
latter seems to be the description of those cases in which
there is no such necessary opposition ; only, that cases will

Essay iii.] Annotations. 33

sometimes arise^ iu which the one or the other must be dis-
regarded.

* When Atheists and prof ane persons do hear of so many and
contrary opinions in religion, it doth avert them from the
Church:

One may meet with persons, not a few, who represent reh*-
gious differences as, properly speaking, designed by the Most
High, and acceptable to Him. (See the extract from the
tragedy of Tamerlane in the Annotations on Essay XVI.)

Thus, in a very popular children's book (and such books
often make an impression which is,iinconsciously,retained through
life), there is a short tale of a father exhibitiug to his son the
diversities of worship among Christians of different denomina-
tions, and afterwards their uniting to aid a distressed neigh-
bour. The one, he tells the child, is ' a thing in which men
are bom to differ ; and the other, one in which they are born
to agree.* Now it is true that persons of different persuasions
may, and often do, agree in practising the duties of humanity.
But that they do not often differ, and differ very widely, not
only in their natural conduct, but in their principles of conduct,
is notoriously untrue. The writer of the tale must have over-
looked (or else meant his readers to overlook) the cruel abomi-
nations of Paganism, ancient and modern, — ^the human sacri-
fices offered by some Pagans — the widow-burning and other
atrocities of the Hindus i and (to come to the case of pro-
fessed Christians) the ^ holy wars* against the Huguenots and
the Yaudois, the Inquisition, and all the other instances of
persecution practised as a point of christian duty. Certainly,
in whatever sense it is true that men are ' born to differ* in
religion, in the same sense it is true that they are ^ bom to
differ* in their moral practice as enjoined by their religion.

Somewhat to the same purpose writes the author of an able
article in the Edinburgh Review, and also of an article on this
Tolume, in the North British (Aug. 1857, p. 6), with whom I
partly agree and partly not.

This writer maintains (i) that all, or nearly all, the divisions
ihat have existed among Christians relate to points of a pro-
foundly mysterious, and purely speculative character.

34 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

(2.) That on these points the language of Scripture is so
obscure or ambiguous^ that we must infer the Author of the
revelation to have designed that it should receive diflFerent
interpretations ; while^ on all matters of practical morality^ the
language is too plain to admit of doubt or difference of opinion.

(3.) That the dissent and schisms arising from diversity of
interpretations of Scripture are on the whole beneficial ; because,
the union of great masses of men in one community does not
tend to their improvement, but the contrary.

(4.) That the inexpediency of persecution may be demon-
strated by an argument of universal application, — one to which
a Mahometan or a Pagan must yield) as well as a Roman
Catholic or a Protestant ; namely, the impossibility of demon-
strating that what is persecuted is really error.

With all this, as I have said, I partly concur, and partly
not.

(I.) It is very true, and is a truth which I have most ear-
nestly dwelt on in many publications, that what is practical in
the christian revelation is clearly, and fully, and frequently set
forth ; and that, on matters more of a speculative character,
we find in Scripture only slight and obscure hints.^

But nevertheless it cannot be admitted that no passages of
a practical character have been variously interpreted ; or that
all, or nearly all, or all the most important, of the differences
that have divided Christians, relate to questions purely specu-
lative. Take, as one instance, that very early and very wide-
spread heresy, of the Gnostics ; most of whom were rank
Antinomians, teaching that they, as ^ knowing the GospeF —
(whence their name), — ^were exempt from all moral duty, and
would be accounted righteous by imputation, without * doing
righteousness.^^

These, John in his Epistles manifestly had in view ; and no
doubt Peter also, when he speaks of those who ' wrest the
Scriptures,* especially Paul's Epistles, 'to their own destruc-
tion.' They, doubtless, as well as their successors (for, imder
various names Antinomians have always arisen from time to

^ This oircomstance is pointed out ag characteristic of our religion, in the Essay
(ist Series) on the ' Practical Character of Mevelation,' and ako in the Lectures
on * A Future State.'

' See John, Epis. L

Essay iii.] Annotations. 35

time, down to this day'), interpreted in their own way PauPs
doctrine that we ' are justified by faith, without the works of
the law/ Considering how earnestly that Apostle dwells on
the necessity of ' denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, and
living soberly and righteously,' it may seem very strange that
his language should have been thus ' wrested f and that he
should have been thought to be speaking of himself individually,
in his then-state, as being ' carnal, sold under sin,' when he
had just before been congratulating his hearers on being ^ made
free from sin,' and just after, speaks of his walking ^ not after
'the flesh, but after the spirit/'

But the fact, however strange, cannot be denied. And it is
as to the matter oifact that the question now is. For if it be
said that such and such passages are not ' susceptible of various
interpretations' according to reasonable principles^ this is what
most of the contending parties will be disposed to say, each, of
the texts they appeal to. They usually maintain, that to a fair
and intelligent judge they do not admit of any interpretation
but that which they themselves adopt. We can only reply,
that, in point of fact they have been variously interpreted. It
is probable, indeed, that, in very many instances, the various
interpretations of Scripture have been not the cause^ but the
effect of men's differences; and that, having framed dfertain
theories according to their own inclinations or fancies, they
have then sought to force Scripture into a support of these.
Bat still the fact remains, that men have differed in their
interpretations of Scripture, on the most important practical
questions.

Again, those Anabaptists who taught community of goods,
and who were thus striking at the root of all civil society, made
their appeal to Scripture.' So also do those who teach the
doctrine of complete non-resistance ; the consequence of which,
if adopted by any one nation, would be to give up the peace-
able as a prey to their unscrupulous neighbours. And so again
do those who advocate vows of celibacy.*

Again, the Scripture-exhortations to ' unity ' have been inter-
preted by some as requiring all Christians to live under a single

* See CoMiMmfor the Times, No. a6. ' Rom. yiii.

' Aett iv., xix., Mottt, xxiv., and MarJc x. 31.

^ Matt, xix. I3» and i Cor. vii.

D %

36 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

ecclesiastical government; and the passages relating to the
Church/ and to the powers conferred on the Apostles, as
obliging ns to renounce all private judgment, and submit
implicitly to whatever is decreed by the (supposed) Catholic
Church. Now this is most emphatically a practical question,
since it involves, not this or that particular point of practice,
but an indefinite number. Those who adopt the above inter-
pretations must be prepared to acquiesce, at the bidding of
their ecclesiastical rulers, in any the most gross superstitions
and the most revolting moral corruptions, however disapproved
by their own judgment, rather than exclude themselves (as they
think) altogether from the Gospel-covenant.

And the diflFerence between Christians as to this point,
which for so many ages has divided so many millions, may be
considered as not only the most important of all the divisions
that have ever existed, but even greater than all the rest put
together.

It cannot, therefore, be admitted that the practical precepts
of Scripture have never admitted of various interpretations ; or
that the questions of doctrine on which Christians have been
opposed are of a purely speculative character.

The diflTerence, again, between the Christians and the unbe-
lieving Jews, which is, emphatically, on a practical point, turns
on the interpretations of the Scripture-prophecies ; which the
Jews of old (as at this day also) interpreted as relating to a
Messiah who should be a great temporal prince and deliverer.
And it was on that ground that they put to death the Lord
Jesus as a blasphemous impostor. Indeed, a modern writer
(speaking, we may presume, in bitter irony, and meaning a scoff
at Christians) represents that murder as ' no crime ^ because by
the sacrifice of Christ mankind were redeemed.

However clear to us may be the prophecies of a suffering
Messiah, it cannot be said, looking to the facty that ' they
admit of no differences of interpretation.' And it is conceivable
that they might have been so expressed as to force all men into
the reception of Jesus ; if, at least, there had been also such
' signs firom Heaven' as they looked for; — ^if, that is. He had been
seen descending from the clouds, accompanied by Moses and

^ Matt, zvi. 18, and zviii. 17.

Essay lii.] Annotations. 37

Elias, in the splendour ivhich He displayed to three Apostles at
the Transfiguration; — ^and if He had always appeared sur-
rounded by a supernatural light (called a olory) as painters are
accustomed to represent Him^ and as He appeared to John the

But as it is^ 'because they knew Him not^ nor yet the
voices of the prophets, which are read every Sabbath day, they
fulfilled them in condemning Him/^

(II.) I most fully admit that, in things confessedly beyond
human reason, we ought to acquiesce in the scanty and obscure
intimations given us in Revelation ; not presuming to frame, on
such points, explanations of what Scripture has left unexplained;
nor (much less) to condemn, as unhappily has so often been
done, our fellow-Christians who may reject those explanations ;
and on such grounds to create hostile separation.

But it is surely rash to pronounce that such separations were,
properly speaking, designed; or, on any point, to draw inferences
as to the Divine Will from conjectures of our own, based on
the events that actually take place. For, in a certain sense, it
may be said that whatever happens must be according to the
Will of the Most High, since He does not interpose to prevent
it. But ' in our doings ' (as is expressed in the ijth Article)
* that Will of God is to be followed which is expressly declared
in Scripture.'

' It must needs be,' says our Lord, ' that offences come ; but
woe unto that man by whom the oflence cometh.' And Paul,
nho tells his converts, that ^ there must be heresies, that they
who are approved may be made manifest,' bids them, neverthe-
less, ' reject a man that is an heretic'

As for the analogy of a prince or master who, the reviewer
says, always endeavours to give unmistakable directions, Bishop
Butler has touched it very well when he says,^ ^ The reason
why a prince would give his directions in this plain manner is,
that he absolutely desires such an external action should be
done, without concerning himself with the motive or principle
OQ which it is done : i.e., he regards only the external event,
or the thing's being done, and not at all the doing it, or the
action. Whereas, the whole of morality and religion consisting

' Acts xiii. 37.
* Analogy, part ii. chap. vL p. 247, Fitizgcrald'g edition.

38 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

merely in action itself, there is no sort of parallel between the
cases. But if the prince be supposed to regard only the action,
— i.e., only to desire to exercise, or in any -way prove, the
understanding or loyalty of a servant, he would not always give
his orders in such a plain manner/

But as for the question why a state of trial does exist — ^why
earth is not heaven — ^why any evil is permitted in the universe,
— Bishop Butler had too much sense and modesty to attempt
any solution.

(III.) I fully concur with the reviewer in disapproving of the
union of vast masses of mankind under one government, eccle-
siastical or civil. And in some instances, where men were so
wedded to the erroneous view above alluded to, of the character
of Christian ' unity,^ as to think that the combining of all
Christians in a single community on earth is a thing to be
aimed at, their doctrinal disagreements, which prevented this,
may have incidentally proved a benefit. But it is a mistake
to suppose that there is no alternative but such a combination,
or else, hostile separation and opposition. Considering, indeed,
how many religious Bodies of Dissenters there are among us,
and that all Protestants are dissenters from the Church of
B>ome — ^revolted subjects who have renounced their subjection, —
it is not, perhaps, to be wondered that the two ideas, of
independent distinctness, and of disagreement, which have no
necessary connexion, should have become associated in men^s
minds.^ But the Apostles, who certainly did not encourage
diversities of doctrine, founded numerous distinct Churches,
several even in the same province ; which, though not at all at
variance, were not placed under any common authority on earth,
except that of the individual Apostle who founded them. And
in the earliest ages the christian Churches were reckoned by
hundreds. It was in later times, and very gradually, that the
claims of Rome, and of Constantinople, to universal supremacy,
were admitted.

And in the present day, the American Episcopalian Church
Is kept apart from our own, not by difference of doctrine, but
simply by being American. The Churches of Sweden and of
Denmark, again, and of some other Protestant States, are not,

^ I have treated fVdly of this point in the Leuont on UeligiouM Worthip,
lesson X.

Essay iii.] Annotations. 39

I believe, at all at variance with each other, though not subject
to any common government.

(IV.) I am as fully convinced as the reviewer that no unin-
spired man can justly pretend to infallible certainty as to what
opinions are erroneous. But (i) no argument drawn from
man's fallibility can at all avail to repress persecution, except
with those who acknowledge fallibility. And it is well known
that Churches comprising a majority of the christian world do
lay claim to an unerring certainty in matters of doctrine. So
that, with them, the argument which it is alleged all must
admit, would have no force at all. To tell a Roman Catholic
to admit that his Church can have no certainty as to what is or
is not an error, would be simply telling him to cease to be a
Roman Catholic.

If, however, all that is meant is that, however certain we
may be, ourselves, we cannot always demonstrate to others — to
the very persons in error — ^that their opinions are wrong, the
persecutor would answer that since he' cannot convince them,
he must be content to make sure, in some way, whether by
their death, banishment, incarceration, or otherwise, that they
shall be eflfectually prevented from propagating their errors.

But {7) even if a ruler admits himself to be not completely
infallible, still the above argument will not preclude persecu-
tion. As I observed in a former work,' ' In protesting against
the claim of the civil magistrate to prescribe to his subjects
what shall be their religious faith, I have confined myself to
the consideration that such a decision is beyond the province of
a secular ruler ; instead of dilating, as some writers have done,
on the impossibility of having any ruler whose judgment shall
be infallible. That infallibility cannot be justly claimed by
uninspired Man, is indeed very true, but nothing to the present
purpose. A man may claim — as the Apostles did — ^infallibility
in matters of faith, without thinking it allowable to enforce
conformity by secular coercion ; and, again, on the other hand,
he may think it right to employ that coercion, without thinking
himself infallible. In fact, all legislators do this in respect of
temporal concerns; such as confessedly come within the pro-
vince of human legislation. Much as we have heard of religious

* Euay oil iha Dangeri to Chritiicm Faith, eeay v. § 1 1. Third edition.

40 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

infallibility, no one^ I conceive, ever pretended to nniversal
legislative infallibility. And yet every legislature enforces
obedience, under penalties, to the laws it enacts in civil and
criminal transactions; not, on the ground of their supposing
themselves exempt from error of judgment ; but because they
are bound to legislate — though conscious of being fallible —
according to the best of their judgment j and to enforce obe-
dience to each law till they shall see cause to repeal it. What
should hinder them, if religion be one of the things coming
within their province, from enforcing (on the same principle)
conformity to their enactments respecting that ? A lawgiver
sees the expediency of a uniform rule, with regard, suppose, to
weights and measures, or to the descent of property ; he frames,
without any pretensions to infallibility, the best rule he can
think of; or, perhaps, merely a rule which he thiuks as good
as any other; and enforces uniform compliance with it: this
being a matter confessedly within his province. Now if reli-
gion be so too, he may feel himself called on to enforce
uniformity in that also ; not believing himself infallible either
in matters of faith or in matters of expediency ; but holding
himself bound, in each case alike, to frame such enactments as
are in his judgment advisable, and to enforce compliance with
them ; as King James in his prefatory proclamation respecting
the Thirty-nine Articles, announces his determination to allow
of ^no departure from them whatever.^ I do not con-
ceive that he thought himself gifted with infallibility; but
that he saw an advantage in religious uniformity y and there-
fore held himself authorized and bound to enforce it by the
power of the secular magistrate. The whole question therefore
turns, not on any claim to infallibility, but on the extent of
the province of the civil magistrate, and of the applicability of
legal coercion, or of exclusion from civil rights.^ — [pp. 157, 8.]
And it may be added that (as I have elsewhere remarked)^
a rules who believed in no religion, as probably was the case
with many of the ancient heathen lawgivers, might yet, like
them, think the established religion a useful thing to keep the
vulgar in awe, and might, on grounds of expediency, enforce
conformity.

1 See Essay i. On the Kingdom of ChrUt,

1

Essay iii.] Annotations. 41

' // is certain, that heresies and schisms are, of all others, the

greatest scandals*
' Nothing doth so much keep men out of the Church, and drive

men out of tfie Church, as breach of unity.*

If proof of the truth of Bacon^s remark were needed, it might
be found in the fact, that among the more immediate causes of
the stationary, or even receding, condition of the Reformation,
for nearly three centuries, — a condition so strangely at variance
with the anticipations excited in both friends and foes by its
first rapid advance, — the one which has been most frequently
remarked upon is the contentions among Protestants, who, soon
after the first outbreak of the revolt from Rome, began to
expend the chief part of their energies in contests with each
other ; and often showed more zeal, and even fiercer hostility,
against rival-Protestants, than against the systems and the
principles which they agreed in condemning. The adherents of
the Church of Rome, on the contrary, are ready to waive all
internal diflFerences, and unite actively, as against a common
enemy, in opposing the Greek Church, and all denominations
of Protestants. They are like a disciplined army under a single
supreme leader; in which, whatever jealousies and dissensions
may exist among the individual officers and soldiers, every one
is at his post whenever the trumpet gives the call to arms, and
the whole act as one man against the hostile army. Protestants,
on the contrary, labour under the disadvantages which are well
known in military history,, of an allied army — a host of confe-
derates, — who are often found to forget the common cause, and
desert, or even oppose one another.

Hence, it is continually urged against the Reformed Churches,
'See what comes of allowing private judgment in religion.
Protestants, who profess to sacrifice everything to truth, do not,
after all, attain it, for if they did, they would all (as has been
just observed) be agreed. The exercise of their private judg-
ment does but expose them to the disadvantages of divisions,
without, after all, securing to them an infallible certainty of
attaining truth ; while those who submit to the decisions of one
supreme central authority, have at least the advantage of being
xuiited against every common adversary.*

And this advantage certainly does exist, and ought not to be

42 Of Unity in Reliffion. [Essay iii.

denied, or kept out of sight. The principle is indeed sound,
of making truth, as embraced on sincere conviction, the first
object, and unity a secondary one ; and if Man were a less im«
perfect Being than he is, all who adhered to that principle
would, as has been said, be agreed and united ; and truth and
rectitude would have their natural advantages over their oppo-
sites. But as it is, what we generally find, is truth mixed with
human error, and general religion tainted with an alloy of
human weaknesses and prejudices. And this it is that gives a
certain degree of advantage to any system — whether in itself
true or false — ^which makes union, and submission to a supreme
authority on earth, the first point.

If you exhort men to seek truth, and to embrace what, on
deliberate examination, they are convinced is truth, they may
follow this advice, and yet — considering what Man is — may be
expected to arrive at different conclusions. But if you exhort
them to agree, and with that view, to make a compromise, —
each consenting (like the Roman Triumvirs of old, who saciificed
to each other^s enmity their respective friends) U) proscribe some
of their own convictions, — then, if they follow this advice, the
end sought will be accomplished.

But surely the advantages, great as they are, of union, are
too dearly purchased at such a price ; since, besides the possi-
bility that men may be united in what is erroneous and wrong
in itself, there is still this additional evil — and this should be
remembered above all, — that whatever absolute truth there may
be in what is assented to on such a principle, it is not truth to
those who assent to it not on conviction, but for union's sake.
And what is in itself right to be done, is wrong to him who
does it without the approbation of his own judgment, at the
bidding of others, and with a view to their co-operation. On
the other hand, the unity — whether among all Christians, or
any portion of them — which is the result of their all holding
the same truth, — this unity is not the less perfect firom its being
incidental, and not the primary object aimed at, and to which
all else was to be sacrificed. But those who have only inci-
dentally adhered to what is in itself perfectly right, may be them-
selves wrong ; even to a greater degree than those who may have
fallen into error on some points, but who are on the whole
sincere votaries of truth.

Essay iii.] Annotations. 43

Another disadvantage that is to be weighed against the
adyantages of an unity based on implicit submission to a certain
supreme authority, is that the adherents of such a system are
deprived of the character of witnesses.

When a man professes, and we are unable to disprove the
sincerity of the profession, that he has been, on examination,
convinced of the truth of a certain doctrine, he is a witness to
the force of the reasons which have convinced him. But those
who take the contrary course give, in reality, no testimony at
all, except to the fact that they have received so and so firom
their guide. They are like copies of some printed document
(whether many or few, makes no difference), struck off from the
same types, and which consequently can have no more weight as
evidence, than one. So also, the shops supply us with abun-
dance of busts and prints of some eminent man, ' all striking
likenesses — of each other.*

If there were but a hundred persons in all the world who
professed to have fiiUy convinced themselves, independently of
each other's authority, of the truth of a certain conclusion, and
these were men of no more than ordinary ability, their declara-
tion would have incalculably more weight than that of a hun-
dred millions, even though they were the most sagacious and
learned men that ever existed, maintaining the opposite con-
clusion, but having previously resolved to forego all exercise
of their own judgment, and to receive implicitly what is dictated
to them. For, the testimony (to use a simple and obvious
illustration) of even a small number of eye-witnesses of any
transaction, even though possessing no extraordinary powers of
vision, would outweigh that of countless millions who should
have resolved to close their eyes, and to receive and retail the
report they beard from a single individual.

So important in giving weight to testimony, is the absence of

all concert, or suspicion of concert, that probably one of the

causes which induced the Apostles, under the guidance of the

Holy Spirit, to found several distinct and independent Churches,

instead of a single community under one government on earth,

was, the increased assurance thus afforded of the doctrines and

of the Canon of Scripttu-e received by all. For, it was not — as

some have imagined — any General Council or Synod of the

Universal Church, that determined what books and what doc-

44 Q/* Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

trines should be received. No one of the early General Coun-
cils did more than declare what had been already received by
the spontaneous decision of each of many distinct Churches, —
"vrhich had thus borne, long before, their independent testimony
to the books and the doctrines of Christ^s inspired servants.

So well is all this understood by crafty controversialists,
that they usually endeavour to represent all who chance to
agree in maintaining what they would oppose, as belonging to
some School, Party, or Association of some kind, and in some
way combined, and acting in concert; and this when there is no
proof, or shadow of proof, of any such combination, except co-
incidence of opinion. They are represented (to serve a purpose)
as disciples of such and such a leader. But ' there are three
senses in which men are sometimes called ' disciples' of any
other person; (i.) incorrectly, from their simply maintaining
something that he maintains, without any profession or proof
of its being derived from him. Thus, Augustine was a predesti-
narian, and so was Mahomet ; yet no one supposes that the one
derived his belief from the other. It is very common, however,
to say of another, that he is an Arian, Athanasian, Socinian, &c.,
which tends to mislead, unless it is admitted, or can be proved,
that he learnt his opinions from this or that master. (2.) When
certain persons avow that they have adopted the views of
another, not however on his authority, but from holding them
to be agreeable to reason or to Scripture ; as the Platonic, and
most other philosophical sects : the Lutherans, Zuinglians, &c.
(3.) When, like the disciples of Jesus, and, as it is said, of the
Pythagoreans, and the adherents of certain Churches, they
profess to receive their system on the authority of their master
or Church; to acquiesce in an ' ipse-dixit ;' or, to receive all
that the Church receives. These three senses should be carefully
kept distinct.'*

One of the earliest of the assailants of Bishop Hampden's
Bampton Lectures (a writer who afterwards seceded openly to
Rome) distinctly asserted that Dr. H., Dr. Arnold, Dr. Hinds,
Mr. Blanco W^hite, and Archbishop W^hately were ' united in the
closest bonds of private friendship, as well as of agreement in doc-

^ Eden's Theol, Diet., Art. 'Disciples.'

Essay iii.] Annotations. 45

trine/ Whether this was a known falsehood^ or a mere random as-
sertion, thrown out without any knowledge at all about the matter,
one cannot decide. But the fact is, that Dr. Arnold never had any
close intimacy with Dr. Hampden; and with Dr. Hinds, and Mr.
B. White, — he had not so much as a visiting acquaintance !^

Now though the alleged ' private friendship* — ^had it existed
—would have been nothing in itself blameable, one may easily
see the purpose of the fabrication. That purpose evidently was,
to impair in some degree the independent testimony of the
persons mentioned, as to the points wherein they coincided, by
insinuating that they had conspired together to found some
kind of school or party ; and that, in furtherance of such a
plan, they might possibly have been biassed in their several
judgments, or have made something of a compromise.

How very probable such a result is, was strikingly shown,
shortly after, by the formation of the ' Tract-party.' Of the
persons who (deliberately and avowedly) combined for the pur-
pose of advocating certain principles, some — ^as they themselves
subsequently declared — disapproved of much that was put forth
in several of the Tracts for the Times, yet thought it best
to suppress their disapprobation, and to continue to favour the
publication, till the advocacy of unsound views had reached an
alarming height.

The ingenuity displayed in many of those Tracts has given
currency to doctrines in themselves open to easy refutation ;
and the high character for learning of some of the writers,
doubtless contributed to their success ; but their being known
to have combined together (' conspired/ is the term used by one
of themselves) for the propagation of certain doctrines agreed
upon, took off just so much of the weight of their authority.

And when ministers of the Church of England, and Mora-
vians, and Lutherans, Presbyterians, Methodists, and Congrega-
tionalists, &c., are, all and each, tvUhout any concert, teaching
to their respective congregations certain fundamental Chris-
tian doctrines, this their concurrence furnishes a strong
presumption in favour of those doctrines. Of these religious
oommunities, some coincide on all fundamental points, while

^ See Letter on the Church and the Univer$i(ies,

46 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

others, unhappily, are, on many important points, opposed to
each other : but as long as they are independent of each other,
their spontaneous coincidence, where they do coincide, gives
great weight to their testimony. But if they formally combine
together (in an Association, Alliance, Party, or whatever else it
may be called), and pledge themselves to each other to pro-
pagate these doctrines, the presumption is proportionably
weakened.

It is very strange, that some persons, not deficient, generally,
in good sense, should fail to perceive the consequences of thus
setting up what is in reality, though not in name, a new Church.
Besides that, under a specious appearance of promoting union
among Christians, it tends to foster {ft«-union and dissension in
each Church, between those who do, and who do not, enrol
themselves as members — ^besides this, the force of the spon-
taneous and independent testimony of members of distinct
Churches, is, in great measure, destroyed, by the unwise means
for strengthening it.

It is important that we should be fully aware, not only of
the advantages which undoubtedly are obtained by this kind of
union, but also of its disadvantages ; for neither belong exclu-
sively to any particular Church, or other community, but to
every kind of Party, Association, Alliance, or by whatever other
name it may be called, in which there is an express or under-
stood obligation on the members to give up, or to suppress,
their own convictions, and submit to the decisions of the leader
or leaders imder whom they are to act.

This principle of sacrificing truth to unity, creeps in gradually.
The sacrifice first demanded, in such cases, is, in general, not a
great one. Men are led on, step by step, from silence as to
some mistake, to connivance at fallacies, and thence to suppres-
sion, and then to misrepresentation, of truth; and ultimately to
the support of known falsehood.

It is scarcely necessary to say that I do not advocate the
opposite extreme, — the too common practice of exaggerating
difierences, or setting down all who do not completely concur
in all our views as ' infidels,' as ' altogether heterodox,' &c. The
right maxim is one that we may boirow from Shakespere:
^ Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.' But it is
worth remarking, that what may be called the two opposite

Essay iii.] Annotations. 47

extremes, in this matter, are generally found together. For it is
the tendency of party spirit to pardon anything in those who
heartily support the party, and nothing in those who do not.

' Men ought to take heed of rending God's Church by two kinds
of controversies/

Controversy^ though always an evil in itself, is sometimes a
necessary evil. To give up anything worth contending about,
iu order to prevent hurtful contentions, is, for the sake of extir-
pating noxious weeds, to condemn the field to perpetual sterility.
Yet, if the principle that it is an evil only to be incurred when
necessary for the sake of some important good, were acted upon,
the two classes of controversies mentioned by Bacon would
certainly be excluded. The first, controversy on subjects too
deep and mysterious, is indeed calculated to gender strife. For,
in a case where correct knowledge is impossible to any, and
where all are, in fact, in the wrong, there is but little likeli-
hood of agreement; like men who should rashly venture to
explore a strange land in utter darkness, they will be scattered
into a thousand devious paths. The second class of subjects
that would be excluded by this principle, are those which relate
to matters too minute and trifling. For it should be remem^
bered that not only does every question that can be raised lead
to differences of opinion, disputes, and parties, but also that the
violence of the dispute, and the zeal and bigoted spirit of the
party, are not at all proportioned to the importance of the
matter at issue. The smallest spark, if thrown among very
combustible substances, may raise a formidable conflagration.
Witness the long and acrimonious disputes which distracted the
Church concerning the proper time for the observance of Easter,
and concerning the use of leavened or unleavened bread at the
Lord's Supper. We of the present day, viewing these contro-
versies from a distance, with the eye of sober reason, and
perceiving of how little consequence the points of dispute are
in themselves, provided they be so fixed as to produce a deisent
nniformity, at least among the members of each Church, can
hardly bring ourselves to believe that the most important
doctrines of the Gk)spel were never made the subject of more
eager contentions than such trifles as these ; and that for these

48 Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

the peace and unity of the Church were violated, and Christian
charity too often utteriy destroyed. But we should not forget
that human nature is still the same as it ever was ; and that
though the controversies of one age may often appear ridiculous
in another, the disposition to contend about trifles may remaiu
unchanged.^

Not only, however, should we avoid the risk of causing
needless strife by the discussion of such questions as are in
themselves trifling, but those also are to be regarded tis to ns
insignificant, which, however curious, sublime, and interesting,
can lead to no practical result, and have no tendency to make
us better Christians, but are merely matters of speculative
curiosity. Paul is frequent and earnest in his exhortations to
his converts to confine themselves to such studies as tend to
the edification of the Church, — the increase of the fruits of the
Spirit, — the conversion of infidels, — and the propagation of the
essential doctrines of the Grospel. And these doctrines are all
of a practical tendency. While all the systems framed by
human superstition, enthusiasm, and imposture, whether Pagan,
Romish, or Mahometan, abound, as might be expected, in mytho-
logical fables and marvellous legends, it is one of the most
remarkable characteristics of the true religion, that it reveals
nothing that is not practically important for us to know with a
view to our salvation. Our religion, as might no less be
expected of one which comes not from man, but from God,
reveals to us, not the philosophy of the human mind in itself,
nor yet the philosophy of the divine Nature in itself, but (that
which is properly religion) the relation and connection of the
two Beings ; — what God is to us, — what He has done, and will
do for us, — and what we are to be and to do, in regard to
Him.

Bacon, doubtless, does not mean to preclude all thought or
mention of any subject connected with religion, whose practical
utility we are unable to point out. On the contrary, he else-
where urges us to pursue truth, without always requiring to
perceive its practical application. But all controversy^ and
everything that is likely, under existing circumstances, to lead
to controversy, on such points, must be carefully avoided.

^ See Lestons on EeUgiom Worship,

Essay iiij Annotations. 49

When once a flame is kindled, we cannot tell how far it may
extend. And since, though we may be allowed, we cannot be
bound in duty to discuss speculative points of theology, the
blame of occasioning needless dissension must lie with those
who 80 discuss them as to incur a risk that hostile parties may
arise out of their speculations.

'Men create oppositions which are not, and put them into new
terms so fixed, as whereas the meaning ought to govern the
term, the term in effect govemeth the meaning.'

So important are words in influencing our thoughts, and so
common is the error of overlooking their importance, that we
cannot give too much heed to this caution of Bacon as to our
use of language in religious discussion. The rules most im-
portant to be observed are, first, to be aware of the ambiguity
of words, and watchful against being misled by it ; since the
same word not only may, but often must, be used to express
different meanings ; and so common a source of dissension is
the mistake hence arising of the meaning of others, that the
word misunderstanding is applied to disagreements in general :
secondly (since, on the other hand, the same meaning may be
expressed by different words), to guard against attaching too
great importance to the use of any particular term : and lastly,
to avoid, as much as possible, introducing or keeping up the
use of any peculiar set of words and phrases, any ' fixed terms,'
as Bacon calls them, as the badge of a party.

A n^lect of this last rule, it is obvious, must greatly pro-
mote causeless divisions and all the evi][s of party-spirit. Any
system appears the more distinct from all others, when provided
with a distinct, regular, technical phraseology, like a corporate
Body, with its coat of arms and motto. By this means, over
and above all the real differences of opinion which exist, a fresh
cause of opposition and separation is introduced among those
who would perhaps be found, if their respective statements were
candidly explained, to have in their tenets no real ground of
dismuon. Nor will the consequences of such divisions be as
trifling as their causes ; for when parties are once firmly esta-
blished and arrayed against each other, their opposition will
usually increase ; and the differences between them, which were

E

50 Of Unity in ReUgion. [Essay iii.

originally little more than imaginary^ may in time become
serious and important. Experience would seem to teach us
that the technical terms which were introduced professedly for
the purpose of putting down heresies as they arose, did but
serve rather to multiply heresies. This, at least, is certain,
that as scientific theories and technical phraseology gained
currency, party animosity raged the more violently. Those
who, having magnified into serious evils by injudicious opposi-
tion, heresies in themselves insignificant, appealed to the mag-
nitude of those evils to prove that their opposition was called
for : like unskilful physicians, who, when by violent remedies
they have aggravated a trifling disease into a dangerous one^
urge the violence of the symptoms which they themselves have
produced, in justification of their practice. They employed that
violence in the cause of what they believed to be divine truth,
which Jesus Himself and his Apostles expressly forbade in the
cause of what they knew to be divine truth. * The servant of
the Lord,' says Paul, ' must not strive, but be gentle unto all
men, in meekness instructing them that oppose themselves, if
God, peradventure, will give them repentance to the acknow-
ledging of the truth.**

On the whole, there is nothing that more tends to deprave
the moral sense than Party, because it supplies that sympathy
for which Man has a natural craving. To any one unconnected
with Party, the temptations of personal interest or gratification
are in some degree checked by the disapprobation of those
around him. But a partizan finds himself surrounded by
persons most of whom, though perhaps not unscrupulous in
their private capacity, are prepared to keep him in countenance
in much that is unjustifiable, — to overlook or excuse almost
anything in a zealous and efScient partizan, — and even to applaud
what in another they would condemn, so it does but promote
some party-object. For, Party corrupts the conscience, by
making almost all virtues flow, as it were, in its own channeL
Zeal for truth becomes, gradually, zeal for the watchword— the
shibboleth — of the party ; justice, mercy, benevolence, are all
limited to the members of that party, and are censured if ex-
tended to those of the opposite party, or (which is usually even

* 2 Tim, XI, 25.

Essay iii.] Annotations. 51

more detested) those of no party. Candour is made to consist
in putting the best construction on all that comes from one
side, and the worst on all that does not. Whatever is wrong,
in any member of the party, is either boldly denied, in the face
of all evidence, or vindicated, or passed over in silence ; and
whatever is, or can be brought to appear, wrong on the opposite
side, is readily credited, and brought forward, and exaggerated.
The principles of conduct originally the noblest, — disinterested
self-devotion, courage, and active zeal, — Party perverts to its
own purposes : veracity, submissive humility, charity — ^in short,
every christian virtue, — ^it enlists in its cause, and confines
within its own limits ; and the conscience becomes gradually so
corrupted that it becomes a guide to evil instead of good. The
Might that is in us becomes darkness.^ '

' We may not take up Mahomefs staord, or like unto it ; that is,
to propagate religion by wars, or by sanguinary persecutions
to force consciences/

Although Bacon thus protests against the ^ forcing of men's
consciences,' yet I am not quite sure, whether he fully embraced
the principle that all secular coercion, small or great, in what
regards religious faith, is contrary to the spirit of Christianity ;
and that a man's religion, as loug as he conducts himself as a
peaceable and good citizen, does not fall within the province of
the dvU magistrate. Bacon speaks with just horror of ' san-'
guinary persecutions.' Now, any laws that can be properly
called ' sanguinary' — any undue severity — should be deprecated
in all matters whatever ; as if, for example, the penalty of death
should be denounced for stealing a pin. But if religious truth
does properly fall within the province of the civil magistrate, —
if it be the office of government to provide for the good of the
subjects, universally, including that of their souls, the rulers
can have no more right to tolerate heresy, than theft or murder.
They may plead that the propagation of false doctrine — ^that is,
what is contrary to what they hold to be trtfe, — ^is the worst
kind of robbery, and is a murder of the soul. On that supposi-
tion, therefore, the degree of severity of the penalty denounced

' See AimotationB on Essay XXXIX.

E %

5a Of Unity in Religion. [Essay iii.

against reli^ous offences^ whether it shall be deaths or exile^ or
fine, or imprisonment, or any other, becomes a mere political
question, just as in the case of the penalties for other crimes/ *
But if, on the contrary, we are to understand and comply
with, in the simple and obvious sense, our Lord's injunction to
* render to Csesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the
things that are Grod's / and his declaration that his ' kingdom
is not of this world ;' and if we are to believe his Apostles
sincere in renouncing, on behalf of themselves and their fol-
lowers, all design of propagating their faith by secular force, or
of monopolizing for Christians as such, or for any particular
denomination of Christians, secular power and political rights,
then, all penalties and privations, great or small, inflicted on
purely religious grounds, must be equally of the character of
persecution (though all are not equally severe persecution), and
all alike unchristian. Persecution, in short, is not wrong
because it is cruel, but it is cruel because it is wrong/ *

^ The following is an extract from a Protestant book, published a few years
ago : — ' The mag^trate who restrains, coerces, or punishes one who is propagating*
a true religion, opposes himself to God, and is a persecutor ; but the magistrate
who restrains, coerces, or punishes one who is propagating a false religion, obeys
the command of God, and is not a pertecwtor*

This is a doctrine which every persecutor in the world would fully admit.

^ See Essay ' On Persecution,' 3rd Series.

ESSAY IV. OF EEVENGE.

REVENGE is a kind of wild justice, which the more Man's
nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out ; for as
for the first wrong, it does but offend the law ; but the revenge
of that wrong putteth the law out of office. Certainly, in taking
revenge a man is but even with his enemy, but in passing it
over he is superior ; for it is a prince's part to pardon : and
Solomon, I am sure, saith, ' It is the glory of a man to pass by
an offence/^ That which is past is gone and irrecoverable, and
wise men have enough to do with things present and to come ;
therefore they do but trifle with themselves, that labour in past
matters. There is no man doth a wrong for the wrong's sake,
but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour,
or the like ; therefore why should I be angry with a man for
loving himself better than me ? And if any man should do
wrong, merely out of ill-nature, why, yet it is but like the thorn
or brier, which prick and scratch, because they can do no other.
The most tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which
there is no law to remedy : but then, let a man take heed the
revenge be such as there is no law to punish ; else a man's
enemy is still beforehand, and it is two for one.

Some, when they take revenge, are desirous the party should
know whence it oometh : this is the more generous ; for the
delight seemeth to be not so much in doing the hurt, as in
making the party repent : but base and crafty cowards are like
the arrow that flieth in the dark.

Cosmos, Duke of Florence, had a desperate saying against
perfidious or neglecting^ friends, as if those wrongs were un-
pardonable. ' You shall read,' saith he, ' that we are com-
manded to forgive our enemies, but you never read that we
are commanded to forgive our friends.' But yet the spirit of
Job* was in a better tune : ' Shall we,' saith he, ' take good at
God's hands, and not be content to take evil also ?' and so of
friends in a proportion. This is certain, that a man that studieth
revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would

J?rw€rh9 Jdx. u. 2 Neglecting. NesUctful} nesligent, • Job ii. 10.

54 Q^ Revenge. [Essay iv.

heal and do well. Public revenges are for the most port fortu-
nate ; as that for the death of Csesar; for the death of Pertinax ;
for the death of Henry III. of France ; and many more. But
in private revenges it is not so ; nay^ rather vindictive persons
live the life of witches^ who^ as they are misehievous^ so end
they unfortunate.

ANTITHETA ON REVENGE.

Pbo. CoirrBA.

' Ylndicta privata, jostitia agrcstis. ' Qni ii^jnriam feat, prindpium malo

' Private revenue is toUdjuHice,* dedit ; qui reddidit, modum abstulit.

* Se who hag committed an injury
' Qni vim rependit, legem tantnm has made a heginning of evil ; he who

violat, non hominem. retwme U, hag taken away aU limit

* He who returns violenoefir violence, Jrom it/
offends against the law only — not

against the individual.' 'Yindicta, quo m&gis natuiills, eo

magis ooeroenda.
' Utilis metiu nltionis privatae ; nam ' l%e more natural revenge is to man,

leges nimiam sepe dormiunt. the more it should be repressed.'

* Private vengeance inspires a salu*

targfear, as the laws too often stum- ' Qui &cile injuriam reddit, \b fbrtasso

ber/^ tempore, non volantate posterior erat.

* Me who is ready in returning an
injury, has, perhaps, been anticipated
by his enemy only in time,'

ANNOTATIONS.

' Some, when tJiey take revenge^ are desirous the party shaidd
know whence it cometh.'

It is certainly, as Bacon remarks, ' more generous' — or less
ungenerous — ^to desire that the party receiving the punishment
should ' know whence it cometh.' Aristotle distinguishes opyti
— (' B/Csentmenf or ' Anger*) firom Mccroc^ — ' Hatred,' (and
when active, ' Malice') — ^by this. The one who hates, he says,
wishes the object of his hatred to suffer, or to be destroyed, no
matter by whom; while Resentment craves that he should know
from whom, and /or what, he suffers. And he instances Ulysses
in the Odyssey, who was not satisfied with the vengeance he had

^ See, in Ouy Mannering, Pleydell's remark, that if yon have not a regular
chimney for the smoke, it will find its way through the whole house.

Essay iv.] Annotations, 55

taken^ under a feigned name, on the Cyclops, till he had told
him who he really was.

So Shakespere makes Macduff, in his eager desire of Ten-
geauce on Macbeth, say,

' If thon be Blain, and with no sword of mine,
Mjr wife'a and children's ghosts will haunt me still.'

' In taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy ; but in
passing it over he is superior/ ^c.

Baoon, in speaking of the duty, and of the difficulty, of for-
giving injuries, might have remarked that some of the things
hardest to forgive are not what any one would consider injuries
{ue.y wrongs) at all.

Many would reprobate the use, in such a case, of the word
forgive. And the word ought not to be insisted on ; though
tliat most intelligent woman. Miss Elizabeth Smith, says (in her
commonplace-book, from which posthumous extracts were pub-
lished) that ' a woman has need of extraordinary gentleness and
modesty to be forgiven for possessing superior ability and learn-
ing/ She would probably have found this true even now, to a
certain degree ; though less than in her time.

Bat not to insist on a word, say, instead of ' foi^ye,' that it
IS hard to 'judge fairly or and to ' feel kindly towards,'

(i.) One who adheres to the views which were yours, and
which you have changed. This was, doubtless, one of the
Apostle Paul's trials. But in his case the miracle he had
experienced, and the powers conferred on himself, could leave
fto doubt on his mind. But the trial is much harder when you
hear arguments used against you which you had yourself for-
merly employed, and which you cannot now refute ; and when
you rest on reasons which you had formerly shown to be futile,
and which do not quite satisfy you now ; and when you know
that you are suspected, and half-suspect yourself, of being in
some way biassed. Then it is that you especially need some one
to keep you in oountenance ; and are tempted to be angry with
those who will not, however they may abstain from reproaching
you with apostasy.

Of course there is a trial on the opposite side also ; but it is
&r less severe. For, a change implies error y first or last ; and
this is galling to one's self-esteem. The one who had adhered

^6 Of Revenue. [Essay iv.

to his system^ sect^ or opinion^ may Iiug himself on his (so-called)
' consistency ;' and may congratulate himself — ^inwardly, if not
openly, — on the thought that at least he may be quite right all
through ; whereas the other must have been wrong somewhere.
* I stand/ he may say to himself, ' where he was ; I think as
he thought, and do what he did ; he cannot at any rate tax me
with fickleness; nor can he blame anything in me which he
was not himself guilty of/ All this is as soothing to the one
party, as the thought of it is irritating to the other.

(2.) One who has proved right in the advice and warning he
gave you, and which you rejected.

' I bear you no ill will, Lizzy' (says Mr. Bennet, in Miss
Austen's Pride and Prejudice), 'for being justified in the warn-
ing you gave me. Considering how things have turned out, I
think this shows some magnanimity.'

(3.) One who has carried off some prize from you; whether
the woman you were in love with, or some honour, or situation,
— especially if he has attained with little exertion what you had
been striving hard for, without success.

This is noticed by Aristotle {Bhetoric, book ii.) as one great
ground of envy (^Ooi^oc).

(4.) One who has succeeded in some undertaking whose
failure you had predicted : such as the railroad over Chat Moss,
which most of the engineers pronounced impossible; or the
Duke of Bridgewater's aqueduct, which was derided as a castle
in the air.

Again, with some minds of a baser nature, there is a diffi*
culty, proverbially, in forgiving those whom one is conscious of
having injured : and, again, those (especially if equals or infe-
riors) who have done very great and important services, beyond
what can ever receive an adequate return. B>ochefoucault even
says that ' to most men it is less dangerous to do hurt than to
do them too much good.' But then it was his system to look
on the dark side only of mankind.

Tacitus, also, who is not very unlike him in this respect, says
that ' benefits are acceptable as far as it appears they may be
repaid ; but that when they far exceed this, hatred takes the
place of gratitude.' It is only, however, as has been said, the
basest natures to whom any of these last-mentioned trials can
occur, as trials.

Essay iv.] Annotations. 57

In all these and some other such cases, there is evidently no
injury; and some will, as has been just said^ protest against the use
of the word ' foi^ve/ when there is no wrong to be forgiven.

Then avoid the word, if you will ; only do not go on to ima-
gine that you have no need to keep down, with a strong effort,
just the same kind of feelings that you wovld have had if there
had been an injury. If you take for granted that no care is
needed to repress such feelings, inasmuch as they would be so
manifestly unreasonable, the probable result will be, that you
will not repress but indulge them. You will not, indeed,
acknowledge to yourself the real ground (as you do in the case
of an actual injury) of your resentful feeling; but you will
deceive yourself by finding out some other ground, real or ima-
ginary. ' It is not that the man adheres to his original views,
bat that he is an uncharitable bigot -! ^ It is not that I grudge
him his success, but that he is too much puffed up with it:'
' It is not that I myself was seeking the situation, but that he
is unfit for it/ &c.

He who cultivates, in the right way, the habit of forgiving
injuries, will acquire it. But if you content yourself with this,
and do not cultivate a habit of candour in such cases as those
above alluded to, you will be deficient in that ; for it does not
grow wUd in the soil of the human heart. And the unreason-
ableness and injustice of the feelings which will grow wQd there,
is a reason not why you should neglect to extirpate them, but
why you should be the more ashamed of not doing so.

It is worth mentioning, that your judgment of any one's
character who has done anything wrong, ought to be exactly
the same, whether the wrong was done to you or to any one
else. Any one by whom you have yourself been robbed or
assaulted, is neither more nor less a robber, or a ruffian, than
if he had so injured some other person, a stranger to you. This
is evident ; yet there is great need to remind people of it ; for,
as the very lowest minds of all regard with far the most disap-
probation any wrong from which they themselves suffer, so,
those a few steps, and only a few, above them, in their dread of
such manifest injustice, think they cannot bend the twig too
iSwr the contrary way, and are for regarding (in theory, at least,
if not in practice) wrongs to oneself as no wrongs at all. Such
a person will reckon it a point of heroic generosity to let loose

58 Of Revenffe. [Essay ir.

on society a rogue who has cheated him, and to leave uncen-
sured and unexposed a liar by whom he has been belied ; and the
like in other cases. And if you refuse favour and countenance
to those unworthy of it, whose misconduct has at all afiected you,
he will at once attribute this to personal vindictive feelings ; as
if there could be no such thing as esteem and disesteem. One
may even see tales, composed by persons not wanting in intelli-
gence, and admired by many of what are called the educated
classes, in which the virtue held up for admiration and imitation
consists in selecting as a bosom friend, and a guide, and a model
of excellence, one who had been guilty of manifest and gross
injustice ; because the party had suffered personally from that
injustice.

It is thus that ' fools mistake reverse of wrong for right.'
The charity of some persons consists in proceeding on the sup-
position that to believe in the existence of an injury is to
cherish implacable resentment; and that it is impossible to
foi^ive, except when there is nothing to be forgiven. It is
obvious that these notions render nugatory the Grospel-precepts.
Why should we be called upon to render good for evil, if we
are bound always to explain away that evil, and call it good ?
Where there is manifestly just ground for complaint, we should
accustom ourselves to say, * That man owes me a hundred
pence !' thus at once estimating the debt at its just amount,
and recalling to our mind the parable of him who rigorously
enforced his own claims, when he had been forgiven ten
thousand talents.

There is a whole class of what may be called secondary
vulgar errors, — errors produced by a kind of re-action from those
of people who are the very lowest of all, in point of intellect, or
of moral sentiment, — errors which those fall into who are a few,
and but a very few, steps higher.

Any one who ventures a remark on the above error, will be
not unlikely to hear as a reply, ' Oh, but most men are far more
disposed to judge too severely than too favourably of one who
has injured themselves or their friends.' And this is true ; but
it is nothing to the purpose, unless we lay down as a principle,
that when one fault is more prevalent than another, the latter
need not be shunned at all. ' Of two evils, chuse the less,' is a
just maxim, then, and then only, when there is no other alter*

Essay ir.] Annotations. 59

native^ — ^when we must take the one or tlie other : but it is mere
folly to incur either^ when it is in our power to avoid both.
Those who speak of ' a fault on the right side/ should be
reminded that though a greater error is worse than a less^ there
is no right side in error. And in the present case^ it is plain
oar aim should be to judge of each man's conduct /otr/^ and
impartially^ and on the same principles^ whether we ourselves^
or a stranger^ be the party concerned.

It may be added, that though the error of unduly glossing
over misconduct when the injury has been done to oneself, is
&r less common than the opposite, among the mass of mankind,
who have but little thought of justice and generosity, it is the
error to which those are more liable who belong to a superior
class,— those of a less coarse and vulgar mind ; and who, if they
need admonition less, are more likely to profit by it, because they
are striving to act on a right principle. The Patriarch Joseph,
for instance, whose generous foi^veness of his brethren is
justly admired, went into a faulty extreme when he told them
(Gen. xlv. 5) * not to be angry with themselyes,' inasmuch as
God had over-ruled for good the crime they had committed.
If they were thence induced to feel no sorrow and shame, he
had not done them any real benefit.

And a person of the disposition alluded to, will be liable to
analogous errors in other matters also. For instance, he will
perhaps show too little deference, — for fear of showing too much
—for the judgment of those he highly esteems; and will do
injostice to a friend, in some cause he has to decide, through
over-dread of partiality. And perhaps he will under-rate the
evidence for a religion he wishes to believe, from dread of an
nndue bias in its favour.'

An actual case has been known of a person most of whose
relatives were accustomed to speak of him much less favour-
ably than they really thought ; not firom want of good-will, but
from dread of being thought partial. And the impression thus
produced was such as might have been expected. It was sup-
posed—very naturally — that they were giving the most favour-
able picture they could, when the contrary was the fact.
. What ought to have been taken at a premium, was taken at a

^ See SlemeiUi of Logic, app. i., article Indtffhrencg,

6o OfBevenge. [Essay iv.

discount, and vice versd: so that they damaged unfairly the
reputation of one to whom they wished well.

It may be thought superfluous to warn any one against an
excess of self-distrust. But in truths there is the more danger
of this^ from the very circumstance that men are 7u>t usually
warned against it^ and fancy themselves quite safe from it.
We should remember, — besides all other distrust, — to distrust
our own self-distrust.

ESSAY V. OF ADVERSITY.

IT was a high speech of Seneca (after the maimer of the
Stoics), that the 'good things which belong to prosperity
are to be wished, but the good things that belong to adversity
are to be admired^ — ' Bona rerum secundarum optabilia, adver-
sarum mirabilia/ ^ Certainly, if miracles be the command over
nature, they appear most in adversity. It is yet a higher
speech of his than the other (much too high for a heathen),
* It is true greatness to have in one the frailty of a man, and
the security of a God' — 'Vere magnum habere fragilitatem
hominis, securitatem Dei/ ^ This would have done better in
poesy,' where transcendencies^ are more allowed ; and the poets,
indeed, have been busy with it — for it is in effect the thing
which is figured in that strange fiction of the ancient poets,
which seemeth not to be without mystery ;* nay, and to have
some approach to the state of a Christian, ' that Hercules, when
he went to unbind Prometheus (by whom human nature is re-
presented), sailed the length of the great ocean in an earthen
pot or pitcher, lively describing christian resolution, that saileth
in the frail bark of the flesh through the waves of the world.'
But to speak in a mean,' the virtue of prosperity is temper-
ance, the virtue of adversity is fortitude, which in morals is the
more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old
Testament, adversity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth
the greater benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's

1 Sen. AdLmsU. 66. * Sen. J[/i LwsU. 53.

' Pbesy. Pottry.

' Mosick and JPoesy
To quicken you.* — Shaketpere.
* TraiiBoendendeB. FUghUs soarings.
' Mjiteiy. A secret meaning ; am emblem.

' Important truths still let your fables hold.
And moral mysteries with art enfold.'— (Trofiot/Ztf.
* ApoUod. Dear, Orig, 11.
'Kean. Mediinm.

'Temperance, with golden square.
Betwixt them both can measure out a mean*^S%akesjpere,

6z Of Adversity. [Essay v.

favour. Yet even in the Old Testament, if you listen to
David's harp, you shall hear as many heatse-like airs as carols ;
and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in de-
scribing the afflictions of Job than the felicities^ of Solomon.
Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes ; and adver-
sity is not without comforts and hopes- We see in needleworks
and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work
upon a sad ^ and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melan-
choly work upon a lightsome ground : judge, therefore, of the
pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly
virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant where they are in-
censed • or crushed ; for prosperity doth best discover vice, and
jidversity doth best discover virtue.

ANNOTATIONS.

Some kinds of adversity are chiefly of the character of trials,
and others of discipline. But Bacon does not advert to this
difference, nor say anything at all about the distinction between
discipline and trial ; which are quite different in themselves, but
often confounded together.

By ' discipline' is to be understood, anything — ^whether of
the character of adversity or not — that has a direct tendency
to produce improvement, or to create some qualification that
did not exist before ; and by trial, anything that tends to ascer^
tain what improvement has been made, or what qualities exist.
Both effects may be produced at once ; but what we speak of
is, the proper character of trial, as such, and of discipline, as
such.

A college tutor ^ for instance, seeks to make his pupils good
scholars; an examiner, to ascertain how far each candidate t^
such. It may so happen that the Tutor may be enabled to

* Felicities (rarely med in the plural). ' The feUeiiiea of her wonderful reign.*

' Sad. Dark-coloured, * I met him accidentally in London, in tfoJ-odlonrcd
clothes, for from heing costly/ — Walton's Xiiwt.
' Incensed. Set on fire; burned*

Essay v.] Annotations, 63

form a judgment of the proficiency of the pnpils ; and that a
candidate may learn something from the Examiner. But what
is essential in each case^ is incidental in the other. For^ no one
woidd say that a course of lectures was a failure^ if the pupils
were well iuBtructed^ though the teacher might not have ascer-
tained their proficiency; or that an examination had not an-
swered its purpose^ if the qualifications of the candidates were
proved^ though they might have learnt nothing from it.

A corresponding distinction holds good in a great many
other things : for instance, what is called ^proving a gun/ that
is, loading it up to the muzzle and firing it — does not at all
tend to increase its strength, but only proves that it is strong.
Proper hammering and tempering of the metal, on the other
hand, tends to make it strong.

These two things are, as has just been said, very likely to be
confounded together : (i.) because very often they are actually
combined; as e.g., well-conducted exercise of the body, both
displays, and promotes, strength and agility. The same holds
good in the case of music, and various other pursuits, and in
none more than in virtuous practice.

(4.) Because fix)m discipline and firom trial, and anything
analogous to these, we may often draw the same inference,
though by different reasonings : e.g., if you know that a gun-
barrel has gone through such and such processes, under a skil-
ful metallurgist, you conclude d priori that it will be a strong
one; and again you draw the same inference from knowing that
it has been ^proved/ This latter is an argument from a sign ;
the other, from cause to effect} So also, if you know that
a man has been under a good tutor, this enables you to form
an h priori conjecture that he is a scholar; and by a different
kind of argument, you infer the same firom his having passed
an examination.

Great evils may arise from mistaking the one of these things

for the other. For instance, children's lives have been sacrificed

by the attempt to make them nardy by exposing them to cold,

and wet, and hardship. Those that have been so exposed are

(as many of them as survive) hardy ; because their having gone

through it proves that they were of a strong constitution, though

1 JEthetoric, part i. chap. ii.

64 Of Adversity. [Essay v.

it did not make them so. The ' proving ' of a gun is the cause,
not of its being strong, but of our knomnff it to be strong.
And it is wonderful how prevalent in all subjects is the tendency
to confound these two things together : e.^., Balak says to
Balaam, ' I wot that he whom thou blessest is blessed, and he
whom thou cursest is cursed.' And this must have been true,
if Balaam was a true prophet ; but the mistake was, to suppose
that his curse or blessing brought on these results, when, in
truth, it brought only the knowledge of the divine designs and
sentences.

Different kinds of adversity, and also of prosperity, (for both
are equally trials, though it is only adversity that is usually
called such,) differ in this respect from each other, some being
more of the character of discipline, and others of trial.

Generally speaking, a small degree of persecution and oppres-
sion is more of a discipline for humanity than very great and
long-continued. It is everywhere observed that a liberated
slave is apt to make a merciless master, and that boys who have
been cruelly fagged at school are cruel faggers. Sterne intro-
duces a tender-hearted negro girl, of whom it is remarked that
'she had suffered oppression, and had learnt mercy,' as if
this was a natural consequence. It would have been more
true to have said, ' Although she had suffered much oppres-
sion,' &c.

Most of the early Reformers were intolerant. Most bitter
was the persecution, in the Low Countries, of the Arminians by
the Calvinists, who had very recently been delivered from perse-
cution themselves.^ And a people who have been so long and
so severely persecuted as the Vaudois, and yet retain, as they
do, a mild and tolerant character, give strong evidence of the
domination of a real christian principle.

The celebrated ' Pilgrim Fathers,' who fled from the tyranny
of Laud and his abettors, to America, and are described as
having ' sought only freedom t^ worship God/ had no notion
of allowing the same freedom to others, but enacted and
enforced the most severe penalties against all who differed from

1 See, iu Mr. Macaulay's JSistoty, a case of most atrocioos craelty perpetrated
by Presbyterians who had witnessed cruel persecution of themselves or their fathers.
—Vol. iv. p. 781.

'.] Annotations. 6j

them^ and compelled the ever-venerated Koger Williams, the
great champion of toleration, to fly from them to Rhode Island,
where he founded a colony on his own truly christian system.
One of the principal founders of the New England colony re-
monstrated with these persecutors, saying (in a letter given in
a late number of the Edinburgh Review),^ * Reverend and dear
sirs, whom I unfeignedly love and respect, it doth not a little
grieve my spirit to hear what sad things are reported daily of
your tyranny and persecution in New England, as that you fine,
whip, and imprison men for their consciences. First, you
compel such to come into your assemblies as you know will not
join you in your worship ; and when they show their dislike
thereof, or witness against it, then you stir up your magistrates
to punish them, for such, as you conceive, their public affronts.
Truly, friends, this your practice of compelling any, in matters
of worship, to that whereof they are not fully persuaded, is to
make them sin ; for so the Apostle {Romans xiv. 23) tells us ;
and many are made hypocrites thereby, conforming in their
outwards acts for fear of punishment. We pray for you, and
wish you prosperity every way ; hoping the Lord would have
given you so much light and love there, that you might have
been eyes to God^s people here, and not to practise those courses
in a wildemess which you went so far to prevent/ They replied,
* Better be hypocrites than profane persons. Hypocrites give
God part of his due — the outward man ; but the profane person
giveth God neither outward nor inward man. You know not
if you think we came into this wildemess to practise those
courses which we fled from in England. We believe there is
a vast difference between men^s inventions and God's institu-
tions : we fled from men's inventions^ to which we else should
have been compelled ; we compel none to men's inventions.'

About the same time Williams sent a warm remonstrance to
his old friend and governor, Endicott, against these violent
proceedings. The Massachusetts theocracy could not complain
that none showed them their error : they did not persevere in

the system of persecution without having its wrongfulness fully

pointed out.

* Had Bunyan,' says the Reviewer/ * opened his conventicle in

* Oct. 1855, p. 564. « F>ige 510.

7

66 ' Of Adversity. [Essay v.

Boston^ he would have heen banished^ if not whipped ; had Lord
Baltimore appeared there, he would have bfeen liable to perpetual
imprisonment. If Penn had escaped with either of his ears,
the more pertinacious Fox would, doubtless, have ended by
mounting the gallows with Marmaduke Stephenson or William
Leddra. Yet the authors of these extremities would have had
no admissible pretext. They were not instigated by the dread
of similar persecution, or by the impulse to retaliate. There
was no hierarchy to invite them to the plains of Armageddon ;
there was no Agag to hew in% pieces, or kings and nobles to
bind with links of iron. They persecuted spontaneously, deli-
berately, and securely. Or rather, it might be said, they were
cruel under difficulties. They trod the grapes of their wine-
press in a city of refuge, and converted their Zoar into a house
of Egyptian bondage ; and, in this respect, we conceive they
are without a parallel in history.'

On the other hand, a short or occasional oppression is a good
discipline for teaching any one not very ill disposed to feel for
others.

Mr. Macaulay beautifully illustrates this from the tale of the
Fisherman and the Grenie, in the Arabian Nights. * The genie
had at first vowed that he would confer wonderful gifts on
any one who should release him from the casket in which he
was imprisoned ; and during a second period he had- vowed a
still more splendid reward. But being still disappointed, he
next vowed to grant no other favour to his liberator than to
chuse what death he should suffer. Even thus, a people who
have been enslaved and oppressed for some years are most
grateful to their liberators ; but those who are set free after
very long slavery are not unlikely to tear their liberators to
pieces.'

Sickness is a kind of adversity which is both a trial and a
discipline ; but much more of a discipline when short, and of a
trial when very long. The kindness of friends during sickness
is calculated, when it is newly called forth, to touch the heart,
and call forth gratitude ; but the confirmed invalid is in danger
of becoming absorbed in self, and of taking all kinds of care
and of sacrifice as a matter of course.

Danger of death is another kind of adversity which has both
characters; but it is much more of a wholesome discipline

£s8ay v.] Annotations. 6j

vfhen the danger is from a storm^ or from any other external
cause than from sickness. The well-known proverh, * the Devil
was sick/ &c., shows how generally it has been observed that
people, when they recover, forget the resolutions formed during
sickness. One reason of the difference — and perhaps the chief
—is, that it is so much easier to recall exactly the sensations
felt when in perfect health and yet in imminent danger, and to
act over again, as it were, in imagination, the whole scene, than to
recall fully, when in health, the state of mind during some sick-
ness, which itself so much affects the mind along with the body.

But it is quite possible either to improve, or to fail to im-
prove, either kind of aflBiiction.

And, universally, it is to be observed that, though, in other
matters, there may be trials which are nothing but trials, and
have no tendency to improve the subject tried, but merely to
test it (as in the case of the proving of a gun alluded to above),
this can never be the case in what relates to moral conduct.
Every kind of trial, if well endured, tends to fortify the good
principle. There are, indeed, many things which are more
likely to hurt than to improve the moral character ; and to such
trials we should be unjustifiable in exposing ourselves or others
unnecessarily. But these, if any one does go through them
well, do not merely prove the moral principle to be good, but
will have had the effect of still further fortifying it.

And the converse, unhappily, holds good also. Every kind
of improving process — ^religious study, good example, or what-
ever else, — ^if it does not leave you the better, will leave you
the worse. Let no one flatter himself that anything external
will make him wise or virtuous, without his taking pains to
kcoTH wisdom or virtue from it. And if any one says of any
affliction, ' No doubt it is all sent for my good,' he should be
reminded to ask himself whether he is seeking to get any good
out of it. ' Sweet,' says the poet, ' are the uses of adversity /
but this is for those only who take care to make a good use
of it.

Most carefolly should we avoid the error of which some
parents, not (otherwise) deficient in good sense, commit, of im-
posing gratuitous restrictions and privations, and purposely
inflicting needless disappointments, for the purpose of inuring

68 Of Adversity, [Essay v.

cbildren to the pains and troubles they will meet with in after-
life. Yes, be assured they will meet with quite enough, iu
every portion of life, including childhood, without your strewing
their paths with thorns of your own providing. And often
enough will you have to limit their amusements for the sake of
needful study, to restrain their appetites for the sake of health,
to chastise them for faults, and in various ways to inflict pain
or privations for the sake of avoiding some greater evils. Let
this always be explained to them whenever it is possible to do
80 j and endeavour in all cases to make them look on the parent
as never the voluntary giver of anything but good. To any
hardships which they are convinced you inflict reluctantly, and
to those which occur through the dispensations of the All- Wise,
they will more easily be trained to submit with a good grace,
than to any gratuitous sufferings devised for them by fallible
men. To raise hopes on purpose to produce disappointment, to
give provocation merely to exercise the temper, and, in short,
to inflict pain of any kind merely as a training for patience and
fortitude — this is a kind of discipline which Man should not
presume to attempt. If such trials prove a discipline not so
much of cheerful fortitude as of resentful aversion and suspicious
distrust of the parent as a capricious tyrant, you will have only
yourself to thank for this result.

* Since the end of suffering, as a moral discipline,' says an
excellent writer in the Edinburgh Review (January, 1847), on
the Life of Pascal, ' is only to enable us at last to bear unclouded
happiness, what guarantee can we now have of its beneflcial
effect on us, except by partial experiments of our capacity of
recollecting and practising the lessons of adversity in intervals
of prosperity ? It is true that there is no more perilous ordeal
through which Man can pass — np greater curse which can be
imposed on him, as he is at present constituted — ^than that of
being compelled to walk his life long in the sunlight of unshaded
prosperity. His eyes ache with that too untempered brilliance
— ^he is apt to be smitten with a moral coup de soleil. But it
as little follows that no sunshine is good for us. He who made
us, and who tutors us, alone knows what is the exact measure
of light and shade, sun and doud, storm and calm, firost and heat,
which will best tend to mature those flowers which are the

Essay v.] Annotations, 5^

object of this celestial husbandry; and which, when transplanted
into the paradise of God, are to bloom there for ever in
amaranthine loveliness. Nor can it be without presumption
that we essay to interfere with these processes; our highest
wisdom is to fall in with them. And certain it is that every
man will find by experience that he has enough to do, to bear
. with patience and fortitude the real afflictions with which God
may visit him, without venturing to fill up the intervals in
which He has left him ease, and even invites him to gladness,
by a self-imposed and artificial sorrow. Nay, if his mind be
well constituted, he will feel that the learning how to apply, in
hours of happiness, the lessons which he has learned in the
school of sorrow, is not one of the least difficult lessons which
sorrow has to teach him ; not. to mention that the grateful
reception of God's gifts is as true a part of duty — and even
a more n^lected part of it — ^than a patient submission to his
chastisements.

' It is at our peril, then, that we seek to interfere with the
discipline which is provided for us. He who acts as if God had
mistaken the proportions in which prosperity and adversity should
be allotted to us — and seeks by hair shirts, prolonged abstinence,
and self-imposed penance, to render more perfect the discipline
of suffering, — only enfeebles instead of invigorating his piety ;
and resembles one of those hypochondriacal patients — the plague
and torment of physicians — ^who having sought advice, and
being supposed to follow it, are found not only taking their
physician^s well-judged prescriptions, but secretly dosing them*
selves in the intervals with some quackish nostrum. Thus it
was even with a Pascal — and we cannot see that the experiment
was attended in his case with any better effects.'

' Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament ; Adversity is
the blessing of the New J

The distinguishing characteristic of the Old Covenant, of the
Mosaic Law, was that it was enforced by a system of temporal
retcards and jtidgments, administered according to an extra-
ordinary [miraculous] providence. The Israelites were promised,
as the reward of obedience, long life, and health, and plentiful
harvests^ and victory over their enemies. And the punishments

70 Of Adversity. [Essay v.

threatened for disobedience were pestilence, famine, defeat, and
all kinds of temporal calamity. These were the rewards and
punishments that formed the sanction of the Mosaic Law. But
the New Covenant, the Gospel, held out as its sanction rewards
and punishments in the next world, and those only. The
former kingdom of God was a kingdom of this world. The
Lord Jesus, on the contrary, declared that the new kingdom of
God, His kingdom, ' was not of this world.' And so far from
promising worldly prosperity to his followers as a reward of
their obedience to Him, He prepared them for suflTering and
death in his cause, even such as He endured Himself; and pro-
nounced them ^ blessed when men should hate and persecute'
them in his cause, saying, 'great is your reward in Heaven.'
The Disciples were indeed taught, and through them all
Christians in every age are taught, that the painful trials sent
to them were among the ' things that work together for good
(that is, spiritual and eternal good) to them that love Grod ;' and
that they ought not to think it ' strange concerning the fiery
trial which was to try them, as though some strange thing
happened unto them,' but to look to the example of the Lord
Jesus, and ' rejoice in Him always.'

Under the christian dispensation, therefore, chastisement is
for a very different purpose from retribution ; the allotment of
good and evil, according to the character of each man (which is
properly retribution), is reserved for the next world. The Apostle
Paul points out as one of the characteristics of the Gospel, that
in it God has ' commanded all men everywhere to repent, inas-
much as He has APPOINTED A DAY in which He will judge
the world in righteousness.'

The novelty and peculiarity of this announcement consisted,
not in declaring the Deity to be the Judge of the world (for
this the Jews knew, and most of the Pagans believed), but ia
declaring that He had appointed a day for that judgment, before
Christ's tribunal in the nea^t world. They were henceforth to
look for a retribution, not, as before with the Jews, r^ular, and
with other nations occasionally, but prepared for all men accord-
ing to the character of each ; not, as before, immediate in the
present life, but in the life to come.

It is true that some men, who are nearly strangers to such
a habit, may be for a time more alarmed by the denunciation

Essay v.] Annotations. 71

of immediate temporal judgments for their sins^ than by any
considerations relative to ' the things which are not seen and
which are eternal/ And when snch denunciations rest not on
uncertain predictions^ but on an undeniable and notorious con-
nexion of cause with effect^ — ^as^ for instance^ of intemperance
with disease^ or of prodigality with penury — a salutary alarm
Biay be created in some who are unmoved by higher considera-
tions. But such an alarm should be regarded merely as a first
step ; — as a scaffolding which is to be succeeded by a building
of better foundation. For, the eflEect thus produced, if we trust
to that alone, is much less likely to be lasting, or while it lasts
to be salutary, because temporal alarm does not tend to make
men spiritually-minded, and any reformation of manners it may
have produced, will not have been founded on christian prin-
ciples. A man is not more acceptable in the sight of God than
before, though more likely to attain the temporal objects he
aims at, if he is acting on no higher motive than the goods and
evils of the present world can supply. * Verily I say unto you,
they have their reward.'

But to look for temporal retribution, is surely inconsistent
with the profession of a religion whose Founder was persecuted
and orucified, and whose first preachers were exposed to ' hunger,
and thirst, and cold, and nakedness,' and every kind of hard-
ship, and were ' made the offscouring of aU things f so that
they declared that ' if in this life only they had hope in Christ,
they were of aU men most miserable.' We should consider, too,
that those very sufferings were a stumblingblock to the unbe-
lieving Jews ; not merely from their being unwilling to expose
themselves to the like, according to the forewamings of Jesus,
such as ' In this world ye shall have tribulation ;' but still more
firom their regarding these sufferings as a mark of divine dis^
pkasure, and consequently a proof that Jesus could not have
come firom (xod. Because He was ' a man of sorrows and ac-
quainted with grief,' they ' did esteem Him stricken, SMITTEN
OF GOD, and afiBiicted,' and they ' hid their face from Him.'

And it should be remembered, that the Jews, who had been
brought up under a dispensation sanctioned by temporal rewards
and punishments, were less inexcusable in this their error, than
those Christians who presume to measure the divine favour and
disfavour by temporal events.

ESSAY VL OF SIMULATION^ AND DIS-
SIMULATION.

DISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of policy, or wisdom
— for it asketh a strong wit and a strong heart to know
when to tell truth, and to do it — therefore it is the weaker sort
of politicians that are the greatest dissemblers.

Tacitus saith, * Li via sorted ' well with the arts of her hus-
band, and dissimulation of her son/ ' attributing arts of policy
to Augustus, and dissimulation to Tiberius ; and again, when
Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take arms against Yitellius,
he saith, 'We rise not against the piercing judgment of Augustus,
nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius/ ^ These pro-
perties of artSy or policy, and dissimulation, and closeness, are
indeed habits and faculties several,' and to be distinguished ;
for if a man have that penetration of judgment as* he can
discern what things are to be laid open, and what to be secreted,
and what to be showed at half-lights, and to whom and when
(which indeed are arts of state, and arts of life, as Tacitus well
calleth them), to him a habit of dissimulation is a hindrance
and a poorness. But if a man cannot obtain to^ that judgment,
then it is left to him generally to be close, and a dissembler ;
for where a man cannot choose or vary in particulars, there it
is good to take the safest and wariest way in general, like the
going softly by one that cannot well see. Certainly the ablest
men that ever were, have had all an openness and frankness of
dealing, and a name of certainty and veracity ; but then they
were like horses well managed, for they could tell passing well
when to stop or turn, and at such times when they thought the

^ Simnlation. The pretending that to be which is not. ' The feigning to be
what one is not by gesture, action, or behaviour, is called simuUUion.* — South,
' Sort. To Jit; euit,

' It sorts well with your fierceness.' — Shdkespere.
3 Tacit. AnndL v. i. < Tacit. Sist. ii. 76.

* Several. Different: distinct.

' Foot several armies to the field are led.
Which, high in equal hopes, four princes lead.' — Dryden,

• As. That. See page 23. ' Obtain to. Attain to.

Essay vi.] Of Simulation and Dissimulation, 73

case indeed required dissimulation, if then they used it, it came
to pass that the former opinion, spread abroad, of their good
faith and clearness of dealing, made them almost invisible.

There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of a man's
self: the first, closeness, reservation, and secrecy, — when a man
leaveth himself without observation, or without hold to be taken,
what he is ; the second, dissimulation in the negative, — when a
man lets fall signs and arguments that he is not that he is ;
and the third, simulation in the affirmative, — ^when a man indus-
triously and expressly feigns and pretends to be that^ he is not.

For the first of these, secrecy, it is indeed the virtue of a
confessor; and assuredly the secret man heareth many con-
fessions, for "who will* open himself to a blab or a blabber?
Bat if a man be thought secret, it inviteth discovery, as the
more dose air sucketh in the more open ; and as in confessing,
the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a man's
heart; so secret men come to the knowledge of many things
in that kind, while men rather discharge their minds than impart
their minds. In few words, mysteries are due to secrecy.
Besides (to say truth) nakedness is uncomely, as well in mind
as in body ; and it addeth no small reverence to men's manners
and actions, if they be not altogether open. As for talkers,
and futile* persons, they are commonly vain and credulous
withal; for he that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk
what he knoweth not ; therefore set it down, that a habit of
secrecy is both politic and moral ; and in this part it is good
that a man's face give his tongue leave to speak ; for the dis-
covery of a man's self, by the tracts* of his countenance, is a
great weakness and betraying, by how much it is many times
more marked %nd believed than a man's words.

For the second, which is dissimulation, it foUoweth many
times upon secrecy, by a necessity ; so that he that will be
secret, must be a dissembler in some degree, — ^for men are too

^ Th&t. What; that which, 'To do always that is righteous in thy sight.'—
E^glith LUurgy,

' Futile. TaUcaHve; loquaeUmt, * The parable (Pror. zxix. 2\ it seems, espe-
oaily oorrects not Mae futility of Yune persons which easily utter as well what may
^^ spoken as what should be secreted ; not garmlity whereby they fill others, even
to a surfeit} bat the government of speech.' — On Learning, By G. Watts.

' Tracts. Traitt {traiets) ; features.

74 Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi,

cunning to suflfer a man to keep an indifferent ^ carriage between
both, and to be secret, without swaying the balance on either
side. They will so beset a man with questions, and draw him on^
and pick it out of him, that, without an absurd silence, he must
show an inclination one way ; or if he do not, they will gather
as much by his silence as by his speech. As for equivocations,
or oraculous ^ speeches, they cannot hold out long ; so that no
man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of dissi-
mulation, which is, as it were, but the skirts or train of secrecy.

But for the third degree, which is simulation and false pro-
fession, that I hold more culpable, and less politic, except it be
in great and rare matters ; and, therefore, a general custom of
simulation (which is this last degree) is sr vice rising either of
a natural falseness, or fearfiilness, or of a mind that hath some
main faults, which, because a man must needs disguise, it
maketh him practise simulation in other things, lest his hand
should be out of use.

The advantages of simulation and dissimulation are three —
first, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise ^ for where a
man^s intentions are published, it is an alarm to call up all that
are against them : the second is, to reserve to a man^s self a
fair retreat ; for, if a man engage himself by a manifest declara-
tion, he must go through, or take a fall : the third is, the better
to discover the mind of another ; for to him that opens himself,
men will hardly show themselves averse, but will (fair*) let him
go on, and turn their freedom of speech to freedom of thought;
and therefore it is a good shrewd proverb of the Spaniard, ' Tell
a lie and find a troth,^ as if there were no way of discovery but
by simulation. There be also three disadvantages to set it even :
the first, that simulation and dissimulation commonly carry
with them a show of fearfiilness, which, in any business, doth
spoil the feathers of round^ flying up to the mark ; the second,

* Indifferent. Impartial, ' That they may truly and indifferently minister
justice.' — Prayer for the Church Militant,

' Oraculous. Oraculctr,

* He spoke oreuiuUme and sly ;
He'd neither grant the question, nor deny.' — E^ng,
' Fair (adverb). Complaieantly.

' Thus/air they parted till the morrow's dawn.* — Dryden,

* Bound. Direct.

' Let her be round with hinu* — Shakeapere.

Essay vi.] Annotations. 75

that it pazzleth and perplexeth the conceits^ of many^ that
perhaps would otherwise co-operate with him^ and makes a man
walk almost alone to his own ends ; the thirds and greatest^ is^
that it depriveth a man of one of the most principal instruments
for action^ which is trust and belief. The best composition
and temperature^ is^ to have openness in fame and opinion ;
secrecy in habit ; dissimulation in seasonable use ; and a power
to feign, if there be no remedy.

ANTITHETA ON SIMULATION AND DISSIMULATION.

Peo. Contba.

' IKflaimiiktio, oompendiaria 8a|nen- 'Qmbus artes civiles sapra oaptnm

tia. ingenii sont, iis dusimulatio pro pru-

' 2!ltf ari qfeoneeaUng it a short cut dentia erit.
to the most important part of practical 'Those whose minds can/not grasp

wisiom,' poUtieal sagacity, substitute dissianUo'

tionfor prudence,*

'Sepes oonnliomm, (Ussimulatio.

' ConcetUment is the hedge of our ' Qni dissimulat, pnecipno ad agen-

designs,' dam instrumento se privat — i,e.,Me,

* Me who practises concealment de-

'Qaiindinimalanter omnia agit, seque prices himself of a most important in-

dedpit; nam plurimi^ ant non capiont, strumeutofaetion'-'namely, confidence*
ant non credunt.

'Ee who acts in all things operdy < Dissimulatio dissimnlationem invitat.
does not deceive the less; for most ' Dissimulation inmtes dissimulation,*
persons either do not understand, or do
not believe him*

ANNOTATIONS.

' Of Simulation/

It is a pity that our language has lost the word ' simulation /
80 that we are forced to make ' dissimulation' serve for both

senses.

' Id qaod abeat, simulat, dimitnnlat quod adest."

' The ablest men have all had an openness and frankness/ &c.

There is much truth in Bacon's remark in the Antitheta,
that those whose whole conduct is open and undisguised deceive

^ Conceita. Conceptions — as :

' You hare a noble and a true conceit
Of godlike amity.' — Shakespere.
' Temperature. Constitution, 'Memory depends upon the temperature of the
hnun.'— TTo^e*.
* * Simulatf that which 11 not ; dissimulates that which is.'

76 Of Simulation and Dissimulation, [Essay tI.

people not the less^ because the generality either do not under«
stand them^ or do not believe them. And this is practically
the case when those you have to deal with are of a crafty cha-
racter. They expend great ingenuity in guessing what it is
you mean^ or what you design to do^ and the only thing that
never occurs to them is just what you have said.

It is to be observed, however, that some persons, who are not
really frank and open characters, appear such from their want
of delicacy and of refined moral taste. They speak openly of
things pertaining to themselves (such as most people would
suppress), not from incapacity for disguise, or from meaning to
make a confidant of you, but from absence of shame. And
such a person may be capable of much artifice when it suits his
purpose. It is well, therefore, that the inexperienced should
be warned against mistaking shamelessness for sincerity of
character.

Those who are habitually very reserved, and (as Miss Edge-
worth expresses it in one of her tales) * think that in general it
is best not to mention things,' will usually meet with fewer
tangible failures than the more communicative, unless these
latter possess an unusual share of sagacity ; but the latter will
(unless excessively imprudent) have a greater amount oriUccess,
on the whole, by gaining many advantages which the others
will have missed.

' They vnll so beset a man with questions,'

There is, as Bacon observes, a great diflSculty in dealing with
such persons ; for a true answer to their impertinent questions
might do great mischief; and to refuse an answer would be
understood as the same thing. ' Pray, do you know the author
of that article ? Is it your friend Mr. So-and-so?' or, 'Is it
true that your friend Such-a-one has had heavy losses, and is
likely to become insolvent ?' or, ' Is he concealed in such-and-
such a place?' &c. If you reply, 'I do not chuse to answer/
this will be considered as equivalent to an answer in the affir-
mative.

It is told of Dean Swift, that when some one he had lampooned
came and asked him whether he was the writer of those verses,
he replied, that long ago he had consulted an experienced

Essay Ti.] Annotations, ^7

lawyer what was best to be done when some scoundrel who had
been showni up in a satire asked him whether he were the
author ; and that the lawyer advised him always, whether he had
written it or not, to deny the authorship, — and, ' accordingly/
said he, ' I now tell you that I am not the author.'

Some similar kind of rebuke ib, perhaps^ the best answer to
give.

A well-known author once received a letter frorn a peer with
whom he was slightly acquainted, asking him whether he was
the author of a certain article in the Edinburgh Remew. He
replied that he never made communications of that kind, except
to intimate friends, selected by himself for the purpose, when
he saw fit. His refusal to answer, however, pointed him out —
which, as it happened, he did not care for — as the author. But
a case might occur, in which the revelation of the authorship
might involve a friend in some serious difficulties. In any such
case, he might have answered something in this style : ' I have
received a letter purporting to be from your lordship, but the
matter of it induces me to suspect that it is a foi^ery by some
mischievous trickster. The writer asks whether I am the
author of a certain article. It is a sort of question which no
one has a right to ask ; and I think, therefore, that every one
is bound to discourage such inquiries by answering them —
whether one is or is not the author — with a rebuke for asking
impertinent questions about private matters. I say * private,'
because, if an article be libellous or seditious, the law is open,
and any one may proceed against the publisher, and compel
him either to give up the author, or to bear the penalty. If,
again, it contains &lse statements, these, coming from an
ananymou3 pen, may be simply contradicted. And if the
arguments be unsound, the obvious course is to refute them.
But icAo wrote it, is a question of idle or of mischievous
cimosity, as it relates to the private concerns of an individual.

* If I were to ask your lordship, ' Do you spend your income ?
or lay by ? or outrun? Do you and your lady ever have .an
altercation ? Was She your first love ? or were you attached
to some one else before V If I were to ask such questions,
your lordship^s answer would probably be, to desire the footman
to show me out. Now, the present inquiry I regard as no less
imjustifiablej and relating to private concerns : and, therefore, I

78 Of Simulation and Dissimulation. [Essay vi.

think every one bound, when so questioned, always, whether he
is author or not, to meet the inquiry with a rebuke.

' Hoping that my conjecture is right, of the letter's being a
forgery, I remain,' &c.

In any case, however, in which a refusal to answer does not
convey any information, the best way, perhaps, of meeting im-
pertinent inquiries, is by saying, * Can you keep a secret V and
when the other answers that lie can, you may reply, ' Well, so
can 1/

* Openness in fame and opinion,'

' Everybody (says one of Miss EdgewortVs characters) says
that my mother is the most artful woman in the world : and I
should think so, if everybody did not say it ; for if she was, you
know, nobody would ever find it out/ There is certainly no
point in which the maxim is more applicable, that 'it is a
matter of Art to conceal the Art/

' 7%c power to feign when there is no remedy J

This power is certainly a dangerous one to possess, because
one will be tempted to say, again and again, and on slighter and
slighter occasions, ' Now, there is no remedy ; there is nothing
for it but to feign */ that is, perhaps, there is no other mode of
effecting the object you have in view.

Certainly it is a nobler thing to have the power and not to
use it, than to abstain from feigning, through incapacity. But
there are few cases, and to most people none, in which it is
justifiable. It is indeed quite allowable for a general to deceive
the enemy by stratagems (so called from that very circumstance),
because where no confidence is reposed, none can be violated.
And again it is a kind of war that is carried on between police-
men and thieves. In dealing with madmen, again, there is no
more fraud in deceiving them than in angling for trout with aa
artificial fly ; because you are not really dealing with fellow-
men. For, though an insane patient considered as to his own
proper self apart from his malady, is, of course, entitled to
justice and kindness, he is, in his present state, what is usually
(and not incorrectly) called * one beside Idmself — ^not himself'
— ' out of his mind -/ and is regarded as not responsible for his
acts, on the very ground that they are not properly his own
acts, but those of an irrational being.

Essay vi.] Annotations. 79

But with the exception of such cases^ feigning cannot be
justified.

A pleader is greatly exposed to temptations to this practice.
He has indeed a right to urge all that can be fairly said in his
client's favour^ and to expose any flaws in the opposite evidence.
But it will often serve his cause, to protest solemnly his own
sincere conviction, when he feels none ; to tax with falsehood
the opposed witnesses, when there is no ground for it ; and to
bring forward fallacious arguments, and mis-statements of facts.
[See the Essay on Judicature.'] And perhaps he salves his
conscience by the consideration that no one is bound to believe
him ; though it is evident he says what he does say, in the hope
of being beUeved.

How little there is in the world of a really scrupulous re-
verence for truth, one may see but too many proofs every day.
The sentiment expressed by an author of some repute (noticed
in the Annotations on Essay I.), implies not only an ntter dis-
regard for truth, in what pertains to religion, but also a convic-
tion (founded {Mrobably on some knowledge of the world) that
the open avowal of this was not likely to do him any discredit.
We see journalists, again, admitted — so they do but write ably
— to be guides of public opinion, even when it is manifest and
notonQUs that they have no principle but that of writing what
will seii best, and are ready to pander to any popular prejudice,
and to contradict to-day what they said yesterday, without the
least regard for truth and justice, or for the public welfare, or
even for decent consistency, when gain is in prospect.

And we may see men admired not only as eminently pious,
bat as ducere, who have openly professed and vindicated the
system of ^ reserve,' (or ' economy,') that is, the concealment of
their own real sentiments, and the deliberate suppression of
portions of God's revealed truth ; which are to be kept back, it
seems, froim the mass of mankind. But then, what these men
da teach, is^ we are told, the truth, though not the whole
trnth : as if the omission of one portion did not materially
affect, in practice, the character of the rest*. It has been

k

^ The reader is referred to Archdeacon West's Diseowrse on Beserve ; to the
CUm^e on InxlmdMn in the Scriptures (1857), sec 7, and to that nsefnl and
bsivcff^Aiit work, the Index to the TracUfor the Times.

8o Of Simulation and Dissimulation, pBssay vi.

remarked that in a marble statue^ every particle remains in
exactly the same position in which it existed in the block ; the
sculptor has merely removed the other portions, and thus dis-
covered the statue. Yet he is generally considered to have
made a graven image.

Then again, these same Divines have found a mode of inter-
preting ^ in a non-natural sense/ the Articles and other formu-
laries of the Church to which they profess adherence ; holding
it allowable to take words in any sense they can be brought to
bear, in open disregard of the sense in which the writers
designed and knew them to be understood.^

And the same principle is sometimes acted on by persons of
quite a different school. These have been known, for instance,
to maintain that our Lord^s declaration, ' My kingdom is not
of this world,^ may be interpreted as relating to the then-present
time only, and does not imply that his kingdom — though ' not
of this world,^ then, was not to become such, hereafter ! He
however must have known that his words could not have been
so understood; else He would have been pleading guilty to the
charge brought against Him. For, the very design imputed to
Him and his followers, and which they always disavowed, was
that of designing hereafter to subvert existing governments,
and monopolize temporal power. K therefore they had
cherished such a design, while they expressed themselves ambi-
guously, so as to be understood to disclaim it, then, most fairly
might the most firaudulent of the Jesuits call themselves ' com-
panions of Jesus I^

It is really painful to be compelled to impute disingenuous-
ness to persons who manifest much religious zeal. But when
men are found using such arguments, and maintaining such
principles, on some points, as, on others, they reprobate; —
setting up, for instance, to serve a purpose, a tradition more
recent by several centuries* than any of the Romish ones which
they deride, — it is impossible to give them credit for sincerity
in the means resorted to, however sincere may be their belief ia
the goodness of their end.

1 See Tract XC», reprinted by Messrs. Hope, London,
s See THouffhtt on the SdbhaiK

Essay vi.] Annotations. 8i

' Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy.'

What Bacon says of the inexpediency of all insincere proceed-
ings is very true. Nothing but the right can ever be the expedient,
since that can never be true expediency which would sacrifice a
greater good to a less, — ' For what shall it profit a man, if he
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul/ It will be
found that all frauds, like the 'wall daubed with untempered
mortar,' with which men think to buttress up an edifice, tend to
the decay of that which they are devised to support. This truth,
however, will never be steadily acted on by those who have no
moral detestation of falsehood. It is not given to those who
do not prize straightforwardness for its own sake to perceive
that it is the wisest course. The maxim that * honesty is the
best policy' is one which, perhaps, no one ever is habitually
guided by in practice. An honest man is always before it, and a
knave is generally behind it. He does not find out, till too late,

< What a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive.'

No one, in &ct, is capable of fully appreciating the ultimate
expediency of a devoted adherence to Truth, save the divine
Being, who is ' the Truth f because He alone comprehends the
whole of the vast and imperfectly-revealed scheme of Providence,
and alone can see the inmost recesses of the human heart, and
alone can foresee and judge of the remotest consequences of
human actions.

ESSAY VIL OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN.

THE joys of parents are secret, and so are their griefs and
fears ; they cannot utter the one, nor they will not* utter
the other. Children sweeten labours, but they make misfor-
tunes more bitter; they increase the cares of life, but they
mitigate the remembrance of death. The perpetuity by genera-
tion is common to beasts ; but memory, merit, and noble works,
are proper to men — and surely a man shall see the noblest
works and foundations have proceeded from childless men,
which have sought to express the images of their minds, where
those of their bodies have failed — so the care of posterity is
most in them that have no posterity. They that are the first
raisers of their houses are most indulgent towards their chil-
dren, beholding them as the continuance, not only of their kind,
but of their work ; and so both children and creatures.

The difference in affection of parents towards their several
diildren is many times unequal, and sometimes unworthy^
especially in the mother; as Solomon saiib, 'A wise son re-
joiceth the father, but an ungracious son shames the mother.' ^
A man shall see, where there is a house foil of children, one or
two of the eldest respected, and the youngest made wantons ;
but in the midst some that are as it were forgotten, who, many
times, nevertheless, prove the best. The illiberality of parents,
in allowance towards their children, is a harmfiil' error, and
makes them base, acquaints them with shifts, makes them sort^
with mean company, and makes them surfeit more when they
come to plenty ; and therefore the proof is best when men keep
their authority towards their children, but not their purse. Men
have a foolish manner (both parents, and schoolmasters, and ser-
vants), in creating and breeding an emulation between brothers

" Nor they will not. Nor will they, » JPravorhs x. i.

* HannfoL Femieiow,

* Sleepy poppies ham^ haryests yield.' — Drjfden,

* Sort. To (issociate with; to contort, * Metala »ort and herd with other
pietals in the earth.'— TFbodtoare^.

Essay vii.] Annotations. 83

during childhood, which many times sorteth * to discord when
they are men^ and disturbeth families. The Italians make
little difference between children and nephews, or near kinsfolk ;
but 80 they be of the lump they care not, though they pass not
through their own body — and, to say truth, in nature it is
much a like matter : insomuch that we see a nephew some-
times resembleth an uncle, or a kinsman, more than his own
parents, as the blood happens. Let parents chuse betimes the
vocations and courses they mean their children should take,
for then they are most flexible ; and let them not too much
apply themselves to the disposition of their children, as think-
ing they will take best to that which they have most mind to.
It is true, that if the affection,' or aptness, of the children be
extraordinary, then it is good not to cross it ; but generally the
precept is good, ' Optimum elige, suave et facile illud faciet
consuetudo.^^ Younger brothers are commonly fortunate, but
seldom or never where the elder are disinherited.

L

ANNOTATIONS.

'Lei parents chuse betimes the vocations and courses they mean
ihtir children should take. . . . And let them not too
much apply themselves to the dispositions of their children.^

It 13 only in very rare and extreme cases that Bacon allows
the ioclinatiou of children to be followed in the choice of a
profession. But he surely makes too little allowance (and,
perhaps, the majority of parents do so) for the great diversity
of natural faculties. It is not only such marvellous geniuses
as occur but in five out of a million, that will succeed in one
course far better than in any other. Numbers of men who
would never attain any extraordinary eminence in anything, are

' Sort* Tq muB ia (from aortir).

^ All my puns is torted to no ^rooV'-^ Shakeapere,
' Affection, Strontf imelinatum to, ' AU the precepts of Chrigtiamty command
'oi to tenoper om QJfection* towards aU things below.' — Temple.
* * Chnse the bert, imd costom will render it agreeable and easy.'

G 2,

84 Of Parents and Children. [Essay vii.

yet so constituted as to make a very respectable figure in the
department that is suited for them^ and to fall below mediocrity
in a different one.

The world has been compared by some one to a board covered
with holes of many various shapes^ and pegs fitted for each^ but
which are scattered about at random^ so that it is a mere chance
whether a peg falls into the hole that fits it.

A. B. was the son of a schoolmaster who had a great love of
literature. The son had a perfect hatred of it, and was a mere
dunce at his book. Various attempts were made, which proved
perfect failures, to train him to some of what are called the
learned professions; and he was, to all appearance, turning
out what they call a ' ne'er-do-weel.^ As a last resource he
was sent out to a new colony. Th6re he was in his element;
for, when at school, though dull at learning and soon forgetting
what he had read, he never saw a horse nor a carriage, once,
that he did not always recognise ; and he really understood all
that belonged to each. In the colony he became one of the
most thriving settlers ; skilful in making roads, erecting mills,
draining, cattle-breeding, &c., and was advanced to a situation
of trust in the colony. And it is worth remarking that he be-
came a very steady and well-conducted man, having been before
the reverse. For it adds greatly to a young man's temptations
to fall into habits of idleness and dissipation, if he is occupied
in some pursuit in which he despairs of success, and for which
he has a strong disinclination.

C. D., again, was at a imiversity, and was below the average
in all academical pursuits ; but he was the greatest mechanical
genius in the university, not excepting the professors. He never
examined any machine, however complex, that he could not
with his own hands construct a model of it, and sometimes with
improvements. He would have made a first-rate engineer ; but
family arrangements caused him to take Orders. He was a
diligent and codscientious clergyman, but a dull and common-
place one ; except that, in repairing, and altering, and fitting up
his parsonage and his church, he was unrivalled. In this sense
no one could be more edifying.

When, however, a youth is supposed to have, and believes
himself to have, a great turn for such and such a profession, you
should make sure that he understands what the profession is^

Essay vii.] Annotations. 85

and lias faculties for what it really does require. A youth^ e.ff,,
who is anxious to enter the Navy, and thinks only of sailing
about to various countries, having an occasional brush with an
enemy, and leading altogether a jolly life, without any notion of
the study, and toils, and privations he will have to go through,
should have his views corrected.

E. F. was thought by his friends to have made this mistake ;
and when, at his earnest entreaty, he was sent to sea, they
secretly begged the captain to make his life as unpleasant as
possible, being anxious to sicken him. He was accordingly
snubbed, and rated, and set to the most laborious duties, and
never commended or encouraged. But he bore all, and did all,
with unflinching patience and diligence. At last the captain
revealed the whole to him, saying, ^ I can carry on this disguise
no longer ; you are the finest young man I ever had under me,
and I have long admired your conduct while I pretended to
scold you.' But perhaps part of his good conduct may have
sprung from the cause which Bacon alludes to in the last
sentence of his Essay on ' Marriage.'

G. H., who had, as a youth, a vehement longing to go to sea,
was positively interdicted by his father. Hence, though pos-
sessing very good abilities, and not without aspirations after
excellence, he never could be brought to settle down steadily to
anything, but broke off from every promising pursuit that he
was successively engaged in, in pursuit of some phantom.

It is observable that a parent who is unselfish, and who is
never thinking of personal inconvenience, but always of the
children's advantage, will be likely to make them selfish ; for
she will let that too plainly appear, so as to fiU the child with
an idea that everything is to give way to him, and that his
concerns are an ultimate end. Nay, the very pains taken with
him in strictly controlling him, heightens his idea of his own
vast importance ; whereas a parent who is selfish will be sure to
accustom the child to sacrifice his own convenience, and to
understand that he is of much less importance than the parent.
This, by the way, is only one of many cases in which selfishness
is caught from those who have least of it.

H

ESSAY yill. OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE

E that hath wife and children hath given hostages to ju^.
fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, f'^' '^,
either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of ^''^ '*
greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried
or childless men, which, both in affection and means, have
married and endowed the public. Yet it were great reason that
those that have children should have greatest care of future
times, unto which they know they must transmit their dearest
pledges. Some there are, who, though they lead a single life,
yet their thoughts do end with themselves, and account future
times impertinencies;^ nay, there are some other that accoimt
wife and children but as bills of charges ; ' nay, more, there are
some foolish rich covetous men that take a pride in having no
children, because they may be thought so much the richer ; for,
perhaps, they have heard some talk, * Such a one is a great rich
man,^ and another except to it, ' Yea, but he hath a great charge
of children,' as if it were an abatement to his riches. But the
most ordinary cause of a single life is liberty, especially in
certain self-pleasing and hm]feS*6us ' minds, which are so sensible
of every restraint, as * they will go near to think their girdles
and garters to be bonds and shackles. Unmarried men are best
friends, best masters, best servants, but not always best subjects.

' Impertinencies. Thinffg wholUf irrelevant ; tMnga of little or no importance.
' O matter and impertinence mixed.
Reason and madness.' — Shakeepere.
* There are many subtle impertinences learnt in schools.'— FTi^.
^ Charges. Coet ; expense,

< 111 he at charges for a looking-glass,
And entertain a score or two of tsAkm^-^SkaJpespere.
' Humorous. Governed by one*s own fancy or predominant inclination,
* I am known to he a himorous patridan.' — ShaJcespere.
' He that would learn to pass a just sentence upon man and things, must beware
of a firndful temper, and a humorous conduct in affiurs.' — Watts,

'Or self-conceited, play the humorous Platonist.' — Drayton,
^ As. That, See page 23.

Essay viii.] Of Marriage and Single Life. 87 ^^

for they are light to run away^ and almost all fug^jtixes-ave of '
ttotcgadition. A single life doth well with "churchmen, for
cnSity^will hardly water the ground where it must first fill a
pool. It is indifferent for judges and magistrates ; for if they
be facile and corrupt^ you shall have a servant five times worse
than ft J^fe* For soldiers, I find the generals commonly, in
their hortmvS, put men in mind of their wives and children :
and I think the despising of marriage among the Turks maketh
the vulgar soldier more base. Certainly wife and children are
a kind of discipline of humanity : and single men, though they
be many times more cfiantable, because their means are less.,
exhaust,' yet, on the other side, they are more cruel and hard-
hearted (good to make severe inquisitors), because their tender-
ness is not so oft called upon. G^ave natures, led by custom,
and therefore constant, are commonly loving husbands, as was
said of Ulysses, ' Vetulam suam OTaetjditj^jppoLOr^itatiy'* 9^*^*^ ^
women are often proud and frowara, as presuming upon the
merit of their chastity. It is one of the best bonds, both of Jt
chastity and obedience, in the wife, if she thinks her husbands
wise, which she will never do if she find him jealous. Wives
are young 'men^s mistresses, companions for middle age, and old
men's nurses, so as a man may have a quarrel ' to marry when
he will ; but yet he was reputed one of the wise men that made
answer to the question when a man should marry — ' A young
man not yet, an elder man not at all.' ^ It is often seen that
bad husbands have very good wives; whether it be that it
raiseth the price of their husband's kindness when it comes, or
that the wives take a pride in their patience ; but this never
&il9, if the bad husbands were of their own chusing, against
thdr fiiends' consent ; for then they will be sure to make good
their own folly.

' Exhaoit. JSxhamHed.

'The wealth
Of the Canaries was ««Aiiiw^» the health
Of his good Miy'esty to oelehrate.' — Habin^ton^

* * He pfrefened his old woman to immortality.' — ^Plut. OtyU. I.

* Qoarrel. A reat<m; a plea, (Perhaps, from Qoare, wherefore, used in law
for a plea in trespass.) Or periiaps this oldest use of it for reason or plea, is the
niginai meamng of querela, retained in querulous— putting forth a pitiful plea.
■ He tboQght he had a good quarrel to attack huxL'^SoUnshed.

^ tlialea. Fid. 2>iog. Laert. i. a6.

88 Of Marriage and Singk Life. [Essay viii.

ANTITHETA ON WIFE AND CHILDREN.

Pro. Contra.

* Chai*ita8 reipublicsB incipit a familia. ' Qui nxorem duxit, et Uberos snacepit^

* The love of country has its rise in obsides fortunas dedlt.

family ejection' * He that has a toife and children

• has given hostages to fortune*

* Uxor et liberi diBciplina qnedam hu-

xnanitatis ; at ceelibes tetrici et seyeri. ' Brntornm eternitas soboles; virormn

' A wife aohd children are a sort of fama» merita, et instituta.
training in courtesy and kindliness; * The perpetuation of brutes is off-
while single men, on the other hand, are spring; but that of man is their glory,
hard and severe.* their deserts, and their institutions.*

'Cselibatns et orlntas ad nil aliad ' (Economicss rationes publicas pie-

conferunt, qnam ad fugam. runque evertunt.

* Celibacy and absence of kindred are * Family considerations often over-
a qualification only for flight.* throw public ones.*

ANNOTATIONS.

It is remarkable that Bacon does not at all advert to the
notion of the superior holiness of a single life, or to the enforced
celibacy of the Roman-Catholic clergy.

It is hardly necessary to remark — much less to prove — ^that,
even supposing there were some spiritual advantage in celibacy,
it ought to be completely voluntary from day to day, and not
to be enforced by a life-long vow or rule. For in this case,
even though a person should not repent of such a vow, no one
can be sure that there is not such repentance. Supposing that
even a large majority of priests, and monks, and nuns, have no
desire to marry, every one of them may not unreasonably be
suspected of such a desire, and no one of them, consequently,
can be secure against the most odious suspicions. It has been
alleged, in reply to this, that the like reasoning would apply to
the case of the marriage contract, since no one can be sure that
a married couple may not repent of their union. To the most
rightminded persons, the answer would at once occur, that there
is a wide difference between any merely human institution, and
one that has an express divine sanction : ^ what God hath joined
together, let not Man put asunder.' This distinction, however,
would not be recognised by those who put the decrees of a
(supposed) infallible Church on a level with Scripture. But
even these may perceive that the permanence of the marriage-tie

Essay viii.] Annotations. 89

is necessary for the due care of oflfspring — for the comfort of
married life itself — ^and for the morality and welfEire of society.
And that there is no such necessity for the enforced celibacy
of the clergy, is proved, not only by the experience of all
Churches except that of Borne, but by the admission of that
very Church itself; since it dispenses with the rule in favour
of the clergy of the Eastern Churches.

No doubt there are many Roman-Catholic clergymen (as
there are Protestant) who sincerely prefer celibacy. But, in
the one case we have a ground of assurance of this, which is
wanting in the other. No one can be sure, because no proof
can be given, that a vow of perpetual celibacy may not some
time or other be a matter of regret. But he who continues to
hve single "v^hile continuing to have a &ee choice, gives a fair
evidence of a continued preference for that life.*

Accordingly, many of the most intelligent of the Roman-
Cathohc laity are very desirous of having the law of celibacy
removed. It is not reckoned an article of the faith, but merely
a matter of discipline. And accordingly, those of the Greek and
Armenian Churches who have consented to acknowledge Romish
supremacy, have been allowed to retain their own practice as to
this matter; the Armenian Church allowing the marriage of
their priests, and the Greek Church requiring the parish priests
to be married.

When this was urged by an intelligent Roman-Catholic
layman, to the late Archbishop Murray, he replied that but few
Armenian priests do avail themselves of their privilege. This,
answered the other, is a strong reason on my side ; for the

' It is worth observing, by the way, that if any one should maintain that enforced
<x£baey of the clergy is essential to sndi an unrestricted intercoarse as is, on religious
groonds, deurable between the pastor and the females of his flock, and should
iillege timt a clergyman to whom marriage is permitted coold not have any con-
ddential commanication with them, for fear of exciting rumours of some matri-
BKNiial designs — if any one should maintain this, he would hardly be thought
serious. He would be answered — if, indeed, he were considered worth an answer —
that the reasonable inference is the very opposite. Any groundless rumours of a
tender attachment between parties who were/re0 to marry, would be put an end
to by thdr not marrying. But if their marriage were prohibited by law, it would
be neeessary to avoid any such intimacy as might possibly lead to the existence, or
to the suspicion, of that sort of attachment which would naturally lead to matri-
mony. But it is remarkable that many persons to whom all this is quite dear, yet
ott, in a precisely parallel case, the very same kind of reasoning which, in this
case^ they would deride.— See BemaiiM of Bishop Copleslon, p. 42.

90 Of Marriage and Single Life. [Essay viii.

advantage which you think there is in an unmarried priesthood
is secured in a great majority of instances, with the very great
additional advantage that their celibacy is there understood to
be completely voluntary.

But doubtless Uie Romish hierarchy have been much in-
fluenced by the consideration which Bacon mentions, that
^ single men are the best servants.' It was wished to keep the
clergy, who are the employed servants of the Boman Churchy
as distinct as possible from the Body of the people.

In the Greek Church, though every parish priest must be a
married man, the bishops never are, being always taken from
among the monks. The result of this is (i.) that the parish
priests, since they cannot rise any higher, are regarded as an
inferior order of men ; and, according to the testimony of all
travellers, are a very low set. And (2.) the bishop who has to
govern, through the medium of the priests, all the parishes of
his diocese, is necessarily a person destitute of all experience.
It is as if the command of a fleet were given (as is sometimes
done by the Russians) to a military officer.

A parish priest in the Greek Church, if his wife dies, is per-
manently suspended. For none can officiate who is not
married ; and he is not allowed to marry again. It is thus they
interpret, as some Protestant divines also have done (besides
Doctor Primrose), the rule that he is to be ' the husband of
one wife.'

The rule is manifestly and confessedly of doubtful inter-
pretation; some understanding it of a prohibition merely of
polygamy ; and others, as relating merely to conjugal fidelity.
This last has more to be said in its favour than would appear
from our translation, on account of the double meaning in
the original Fvyti and also of Ai/17/0 in Greek, and Yir in
Latin.

It has been urged agaixjst this interpretation, that such a
rule would have been superfluous ; but surely the same might
be said against the rule that the deacon shoidd be ^ no striker/
and ' not given to much wine.'

ESSAY IX. OF ENVY.

THERE be none of the affections which have been noted to
fiiscinate or bewitch, but love and envy; they both have
vehement wishes^ they frame themselves readily into imagina-
tions and su^estions^ and they come easily into the eye^ espe-
cially npon the presence of the objects, which are the points
that conduce to fascination, if any such thing there be. We
see, likewise, the Scripture calleth envy an evil eye, and the
astrologers call the evil influences of the stars evil aspects, so
that still there seemeth to be acknowledged, in the act of envy,
an ejaculation^ or irradiation of the eye ; nay, some have been
80 curious' as to note, that the time when the stroke or per-
cussion of an envious eye doth most hurt, are when the party
envied is beheld in glory or triumph, for that sets an edge upon
envy; and, besides, at such times, the spirits of the person
envied do come forth most into the outward pacts, and so meet
the blow.

But leaving these curiosities' (though not unworthy to be
thought on in fit place), we wiU handle ^ what persons are apt
to envy others; what persons are most subject to be envied
themselves; and what is the difference between public and
private envy.

A man that hath no virtue in himself ever envieth virtue in
others — for men^s minds will either feed upon their own good,
or upon others' evil ; and who* wanteth the one wiU prey upon

' Ejacnlation. The act of throwing or darting ovt. * Which brief prayers of
oar Sftviour (Matt. xxvi. 39) are probably such as we call ejaculation — an elegant
•JmilitudB £ram the ghootiiig or throwing oat a dart or tarow/'^South,
* Its active rays efaculated thenoe,
Irradiate all the wide circamference.'*-.S/ac2rf}K>r0.
' Cmioiis. Subtle ; miimteUf inquiring ; accurate ; precise, * Both these senses
onhnoe thdr objects with a more eurioue discrimination.' — Holden. * Having
inpiired of the curiouteet and most observing makers of soch tools.'— 2^oy20.

' For eurioue I cannot be with you.' — Shakeepere,
Xngenioue. ' To devise curious works.' — Sxodus xxxv. 32.

' Cariosities. Niceties, * Equalities are so weighed, that euriositg in neither
can make chotoe of either's moiety.' — Shakespere.
* Handle. To treat; to discuss,

' He left nothing fitting for the purpose
Untouched or slightly handled in discourse.'— /SioArMp^rtf.
' Who. Ee who, * Who talks much, must talk in vain.' — Qajf,

92 Of Envy. [Essay ix.

the other ; and whoso* is out of hope to attain another's virtue,
will seek to come at even hand^ by depressing another's fortune.

A man that is busy and inquisitive is commonly envious ;
for to know much of other men's matters cannot be because all
that ado ' may concern his own estate ; therefore it must needs
be that he taketh a kind of play-pleasure in looking upon the
fortunes of others ; neither can he that mindeth but his own
business find much matter for envy ; for envy is a gadding
passion^ and walketh the streets^ and doth not keep home;
' Non est curiosus, quin idem sit malevolus/ '

Men of noble birth are noted to be envious towards new men
when they rise : for the distance is altered ; and it is like a
deceit of the eye, that when others come on they think them-
selves go back.

Deformed persons and eunuchs, and old men and bastards,
are envious ; for he that cannot possibly mend his own case,
will do what he can to impair another's ; except these defects
light upon a very brave and heroical nature, which thinketh to
make his natural wants part of his honour ; in that it should be
said, ^ That an eunuch, or a lame man, did such great matters /
affecting* the honour of a miracle : as it was in Narses the
eunuch, and Agesilaus and Tamerlane, that were lame men.

The same is the case of men who rise after calamities and
misfortunes ; for they are as men fallen out with the times, and
think other men's harms a redemption of their own sufferings.

They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity
and vain glory, are ever envious, for they cannot want work —
it being impossible but many, in some one of those things,
should surpass them ; which was the character of Adrian the
emperor,' that mortally envied poets and painters, and artificers
in works wherein he had a vein* to excel.

Lastly, near kinsfolks and fellows in office, and those that

* WhoBO. Whoever, * Whoso offereth praise glorifieth me.' — Fs. 1. 23.

^ Ado. Bustle — really the infinitive mood of a verb equivalent to tlie ex-
pression ' to do.' — Used in the plural adoe* in the old Scottish Acts of Parliament.
— 2Z«). H, Cotton,

* Let's follow, to see the end of this ado,'

* Much Ado about Nothing.' — Shakespere,

3 ' There is none curious that is not also malevolent J — Cf. Flut. de Curios, i.

* Affecting. See page 1. ' Spartian. Vit, Adrian. 15.
® Vein. Hwnour ; fancy.

* Thou troublest me; I am not in the vein.*^Shakespere,

Essay ix.] Of Envy. 93

are bred together^ are more apt to envy their equals when they
are raised ; for it doth upbraid unto them their own fortunes^
and pointeth at them^ and cometh oftener into their remem-
brance, and incurrety likewise more into the note of others ;
and envy ever redoubleth from speech and fame. Cain's envy
was the more vile and malignant towards his brother Abel, be-
cause^ when his sacrifice was better accepted^ there was nobody
to look on. Thus much for those that are apt to envy.

Concerning those that are more or less subject to envy.
First, persons of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, are
less envied, for their fortune seemeth but due unto them ; and
no man envieth the payment of a debt, but rewards and libe-
rality rather. Again, envy is ever joined with the comparing
of a man's self; and where there is no comparison, no envy —
and therefore kings are not envied but by kings. Nevertheless,
it is to be noted, that unworthy persons are most envied at
their first coming in, and afterwards overcome it better ; whereas,
contrarywise,' persons of worth and merit are most envied when
their fortune continueth long ; for by that time, though their
virtue be the same, yet it hath not the same lustre, for fresh
men grow up to darken it.

Persons of noble blood are less envied in their rising, for it
seemeth but right done to their birth : besides, there seemeth
not much added to their fortune ; and envy is as the sunbeams,
that beat hotter upon a bank, or steep rising ground, than upon
a fiat ; and, for the same reason, those that are advanced by
d^rees are less envied than those that are advanced suddenly,
and 'per saltum.'"

Those that have joined with their honour great travels, cares,
or perils, are less subject to envy; for men think that they
earn their honours hardly, and pity them sometimes, and pity
ever healeth envy : wherefore you shall observe, that the more
deep and sober sort of politic persons, in their greatness, are
ever bemoaning themselves what a life they lead, chanting a
' qnanta patimur -/* not that they feel it so, but only to abate

^ Incur. To pretg on. ' The mind of man is helped or hindered iir its opera-
tioitt aooofrding to the different quality of external objects that incur into the
aensei/ — South.

* Contrarywise. On the eonirary. • • At a bonnd.'

* * How much we suffer I*

94 Of Envy. [Essay ix.

the edge of envy : but this is to be understood of business that
is laid upon men^ and not such as they call unto themselves ;
for nothing increaseth envy more than an unnecessary and
ambitious engrossing of business — and nothing doth extinguish
envy more than for a great person to preserve all other inferior
officers in their full rights and pre-eminences of their places ;
for^ by that means^ there be so many screens between him and
envy.

Above all^ those are most subject to envy which carry the
greatness of their fortunes in an insolent and proud manner —
being never well but while they are showing how great they are,
either by outward pomp, or by triumphing over all opposition
or competition : whereas wise men will rather do sacrifice to
envy, in suffering themselves, sometimes of* purpose, to be
crossed and overborne in things that do not much concern
them. Notwithstanding, so much is true, that the carriage of
greatness in a plain and open manner (so it be without arro-
gancy ^ and vain-glory), doth draw less envy than if it be in a
more crafty and cunning fashion ; for in that course a man doth
but disavow fortune, and seemeth to be conscious of his own
want in worth, and doth but teach others to envy him.

Lastly, to conclude this part, as we said in the beginning that
the act of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft, so there is no
other cure of envy but the cure of witchcraft ; and that is, to
remove the lot (as they call it), and to lay it upon another ; for
which purpose, the wiser sort of great persons bring in ever
upon the stage somebody upon whom to derive ' the envy that
would come upon themselves ; sometimes upon ministers and
servants, sometimes upon colleagues and associates, and the
like ; and, for that turn, there are never wanting some persons
of violent and undertaking^ natures, who, so they may have
power and. business, will take it at any cost.

Now, to speak of public envy. There is yet some good in

* Of. By; ofpwr^oM; hy desiffn; inietUionaUy. 'They do q/^ right belong
to you.' — TiUoUon.

* Arrogancy. Arroyance. • Let not arroyancy come out of your month.' —
I Samuel xL

* Deriye. To divert ; to turn the eawree of. * Company abates the torrent of a
common odium by deriviny it into many channels.' — South,

* Undertaking. Enterpritiny. ' Men of renown, that is, of undertakiny and
adYentorous nature8.'^-i&^ W'<Uter Raleiyh,

Essay ix.] Of Envy. 95

public envy, whereas in private there is none; for public envy
is as an ostracism, thai eclipseth men when they grow too great ;
and therefore it is a bridle also to great ones to keep within
bounds.

This envy, being in the Latin word ' invidia/ goeth in the
modem languages by the name of discontentment^ of which we
shall speak in handling sedition. It is a disease in a State
like to infection; for as infection spreadeth upon that which is
sound, and tainteth it, so, when envy is gotten once into a
State, it traduceth even the best actions thereof, and tumeth
them into an ill odour ; and therefore there is little won by
intermingling of plausible^ actions ; for that doth argue but a
weakness and fear of envy, which hurteth so much the more ;
as it is likewise usual in infections, which, if you fear them,
yon call them upon you.

This public envy seemeth to bear chiefly upon principal
officers or ministers, rather than upon kings and States them-
selves. But this is a sure rule, that if the envy upon the
minister be great, when the cause of it in him is small, or if
the envy be general in a manner upon all the ministers of an
estate, then the envy (though hidden) is truly upon the State
itself. And so much of public envy or discontentment, and the
difference thereof from private envy, which was handled in the
first place.

We vriU add this in general, touching the affection of envy,
that of all other affections it is the most importune^ and con-
tinual ; for of other affections there is occasion given but now
and then ; and therefore it was well said, ' Invidia festos dies
nan agit^'' for it is ever working upon some or other. And it
is also noted, that love and envy do make a man pine, which
other afiections do not, because they are not so continual. It
is also the vilest affection, and the most depraved ; for which
cause it is the proper attribute of the Devil, who is called ' The

' Flaiiflible. Deterving to meet with applaute. * I hope they will plcMtihl^
reeeire otir attempt/ — Brawn.
* Intportane. Importwuatej tranhletomeframfl^qtieney,
' Hare shall thj penitent a^ha, his endless mercy please
Than their iutportwte salts which dreame that words Qod's wrath appease/-^

Surrey,
» 'Envy keeps ao boUdays.'

95 Of Envy, [Essay ix.

envious man, that soweth tares among the wheat by night / as
it always cometh to pass, that envy worketh subtilely, and in
the dark, and to the prejudice of good things, such as is the
wheat.

ANTITHETA ON ENVY.

Peo. Cohtba..

'Invidia in rebuspublicis, tanquam 'Nemo virtuti invidiam recondlia-

salubris ostracismus. yerit prseter mortem.

* In public affairs, envy acts the part ' Nothing can reconcile envy to virtue

of a wholesome ostracism? hut death*

'Invidia virtates laboribus exercet,
ut Juno Hercalem.

*Envy acts towards the virtues as
Juno did towards Hercules; she con^
demns them to toilsome labours.'

ANNOTATIONS.

* There seemeih to be acknowledged, in the act of envy, an
ejaculation or irradiation of the eye,^

There is a curious passage on this subject in a very able
article in the North British Review (Aug. 1857), which I will
take the liberty of citing.

' We once, in Cairo, conversed on this superstition with an
intelligent Cairene, who described it as the great curse of his
country.

* ' Does the mischievous influence of the evil eye,' we asked,
' depend on the will of the person whose glance does the
mischief?'

' ' Not altogether,' he answered. ' An intention to harm may
render more virulent the poison of the glance ; but envy, or the
desire to appropriate a thing, or even excessive admiration, may
render it hurtful without the consciousness, or even against the
will, of the ofTender. It injures most the thing that it first hits.
Hence the bits of red cloth that are stuck about the dresses of
women, and about the trappings of camels and horses, and the
large spots of lamp black which you may see on the foreheads
of children. They are a sort of conductors. It is hoped that
they will attract the glance, and exhaust its veqom.'

Essay ix.] Annotations. 97

''A fine house, fine fomitare, a fine camel^ and a fine horse,
are all enjoyed with fear and trembling, lest they should excite
envy and bring misfortune. A butcher would be afraid to
expose fine meat, lest the evil eye of passers-by, who might
covet it^ should taint it, and make it spoil, or become unwhole-
some/

' ' Children are supposed to be peculiarly the objects of desire
and admiration. When they are suffered to go abroad, they
are intentionally dirty and ill-dressed ; but generally they are
kept at home, without air or exerdse, but safe from admiration.
This occasions a remarkable difference between the in&nt mor-
tality in Europe and in Egypt. In Europe it is the children of
the rich who live ; in Egypt, it is the children of the poor. The
children of the poor cannot be confined. They live in the
fields. As soon as you quit the city, you see in every clover
field a group, of which the centre is a tethered buffalo, and
round it are the children of its owner, with their provision of
luread and water, sent thither at sunrise and to remain there till
sunset, basking in the sun, and breathing the air from the
desert. The Fellah children enter their hovels only to sleep
and that only in the winter. In summer, their days and nights
are passed in the open air ; and, notwithstanding their dirt and
their bad food, they grow up healthy and vigorous. The children
erf the rich, confined by the fear of the evil eye to the ' hareem,'
are puny creatures, of whom not a fourth part reaches adoles-
cence. Achmed Pasha Tahir, one of the governors of Cairo
under Mehemet AK, had aSo children ; only six survived him.
Mehemet Ali himself had 87; only ten were living at his
deatk'

' ^ I believe/ he added, 'that at the bottom of this superstition
ifl an enormous prevalence of envy among the lower Egyptians.
You s^ it in all their fictions. Half of the stories told in the
coffee*Bhops by the professional story-tellers, of which the
Aira^Uin Nights are a specimen, turn oa malevolence. , Malevo-
lence, not attributed, as it would be in European fiction, to
some insult or injury inflicted by the person who is its object,
bat to mere envy : envy of wealth, or of the other means of
GDJojment, honourably acquired and UberaUy used.' * (P&gea

lO-II.)

liL Adam Smith's Theory of Moral SmtimenU, the following

98 Of Envy. [Essay ix,

admirable remarks are made on the envy that attends a sudden
rise: —

' The man who, by some sadden revolution of fortune, is
lifted up all at once into a condition of life greatly above what
he had formerly lived in, may be assured that the congratula-
tions of his best friends are not all of them perfectly sincere.
An upstart, though of the greatest merit, is generally disagree-
able, and a sentiment of envy commonly prevents us from
heartily sympathizing with his joy. If he has any judgment,
he is sensible of this, and instead of appearing to be elated with
his good fortune, he endeavours, as much as he can, to smother
his joy, and keep down that elevation of mind with which his
new circumstances naturally inspire him. He affects the same
plainness of dress, and the same modesty of behaviour, which
became him in his former station. He redoubles his attention
to his old friends, and endeavours more than ever to be humble,
assiduous, and complaisant. And this is the behaviour which
in his situation we must approve of; because, we expect, it
seems, that he should have more sympathy with our envy and
aversion to his happiness, than we have with his happiness.
It is seldom that with all this he succeeds. We suspect the
sincerity of his humility, and he grows weary of this constraint.
In a little time, therefore, he generally leaves all his old friends
behind him, some of the meanest of them excepted, who may,
perhaps, condescend to become his dependents: nor does he
always acquire any new ones ; the pride of his new connections
is as much affronted at finding him their equal, as that of his
old ones had been by his becoming their superior : and it requires
the most obstinate and persevering modesty to atone for this
mortification to either. He generally grows weary too soon,
and is provoked, by the sullen and suspicious pride of the one,
and by the saucy contempt of the other, to treat the first with
neglect, and the second with petulance, till at last he grows
habitually insolent, and forfeits the esteem of all. If the chief
part of human happiness arises fit>m the consciousness of being
beloved, as I believe it does^ those sudden changes of fortune
seldom contribute much to happiness. He is happiest who
advances more gradually to greatness ; whom the Public destines
to every step of his preferment long before he arrives at it ; in
lyhom, upon that account, when it comes, it can excite no ex-

^^7 ix.] Annotations. 99

travagant joy, and with regard to whom it cannot reasonably
create either any jealousy in those he overtakes, or any envy in
thoBc he leaves behind/*

^Perions of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, are less

envied,'

Bacon might have remarked that, in one respect a rise by
merit exposes a man to more envy than that by personal favour,
through family connection, private friendship, &c. For, in this
latter case, the system itself of preferring private considerations
to public, is chiefly blamed, but the individual thus advanced is
^^cgarded much in the same way as one who is bom to an
estate or a title. But when any one is advanced on the score
of desert sjid qualifications, the system is approved, but the
individual is more envied, because his advancement is felt as an
&ffiK)nt to all who think themselves or their own friends more
worthy. * It is quite right to advance men of great merit ; but
by this rule, it is I, or my friend So-and-so that should have
been preferred/ When, on the other hand, a bishop or a
minister appoints his own son or private friend to some office,
every one else is left free to think ' If it had gone by merit, I
should have been the man/

When any person of really eminent virtue becomes the object
of envy, the clamour and abuse by which he is assailed, is but
the sign and accompaniment of his success in doing service to
the Public. And if he is a truly wise man, he will take no
more notice of it than the moon does of the howling of the
dogs. Her only answer to them is * to shine on.'

* This public envy seemeth to bear chiefly upon principal officers
or ministers, rather than upon kings/

This is a very just remark, and it might have suggested an
excellent argument (touched on in the Lessons on the British
Constitution^ in favour of hereditary Royalty. It is surely a
good thing that there should be some feeling of loyalty unalloyed
hy envy, towards something in the Government. And this

^ Adam Smith's Theory of Moral SenHmewU, cbap. y.
' See IMrodmctortf Letsont on the British ContUtution, lewon L

H 4

icx> Of Envy. [Essay ix.

feeling ooncentrates itself among ns^ upon the Sovereign. But
in a pure Republic, the abstract idea of the State— the Common-
vealth itself— is too vague for the vulgar mind to take hold of
with any loyal affection. The President^ and every one of the
public officers, has been raised from the ranks ; and the very
circumstance of their having been so raised on the score of
supposed fitness, makes them (as was observed above) the more
obnoxious to envy, becaiise their elevation is felt as an affront
to their rivab.

An hereditary Sovereign, on the other hand, if believed to
possess personal merit, ia r^arded as a Gt)dsend; but he does
not hold his place by that tenure.

In Aristotle^s Bhetoric, there is a Dissertation on Envy,
Emulation, and Indignation (Nemesis), well worthy of Bacon ;
who certainly was carried away into an undue neglect and dis-
paragement of Aristotle by the absurd idolatry of which he had
been made the object.

* Concnkator enim oopide nimis ante metatnm.'

ESSAY X. OF LOVE.

THE stage is more beholding* to love than the life of Man ;
-'- ibr as to the stage^ lore is even matter of comedies^ and
BOW and then of tragedies ; but in life it doth much mischief,
sometimes like a syren, sometimes like a fiiry. You may
observe, that amongst all the great and worthy persons (whereof
the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent), there is not
one that hath been transported to the mad d^ee of love ; which
shows that great spirits and great business do keep out this
weak passion. You must except, nevertheless, Marcus Antonius,
the half-partner of the empire of Eome, and Appius Claudius,
the decemvir and lawgiver ; whereof the former was indeed a
Toluptuous man, and inordinate, but the latter was an austere
And wise man : and therefore it seems (though rarely) that love
can find entrance, not only in an open heart, but also into a
heart well fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor
saying of Epicurus, ' Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus,^*
^as if a Man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and all
noble objects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol,
and make himself a subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts
we), yet of the eye, which was given him for higher purposes.

It is a strange thing to note the excess of this passion, and
how it braves the nature and value of things by this, that the
speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but in
love ; neither is it merely in the phrase ; for whereas it hath
been well said, ' That the arch flatterer, with whom all the petty
flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self:' certainly the lover
is more ; for there was never a proud man thought so absurdly
^ell of himself as the lover doth of the person loved ; and
therefore it was well said, ' That it is impossible to love and be
^ise.'* Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and
not to the party loved, but to the loved most of all, except the

^ BehoUQsg. Beholden.

' Tbanks, lovely Virg^xii^ now might we but know
To whom we had been beholden for this love.' — Ford,
' ' We are a mfficiently great spectacle to each other.'
> « Amare et sapere vix Deo OQnoeditar.'— Pah. Syr. Sent. 15.

loa Of Love, [Essay X.

love be reciprocal; for it is a true rule, that love is ever
rewarded either with the reciprocal, or with an inward or secret
contempt ; by how much more then, men ought to beware of this
passion, which looseth not only other things, but itself. As
for the other losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them :
' That he that preferreth Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and
Pallas ;' for whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous afiection,
quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion hath its floods
in the very times of weakness, which are great prosperity and
great adversity ; though this latter hath been less observed ;
both which times kindle love, and make it more fervent, and
therefore show it to be the child of folly. They do best who,
if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarter,^ and
sever it wholly from their serious aJGfairs and actions of life ; for
if it cheeky once with business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and
maketh men that they can no ways' be true to their own ends.
I know not how, but martial men are given to love : I think it
i^, but as they are given to wine, for perils commonly ask to be
paid in pleasures.* There is in man's nature a secret inclination
and motion towards love of others, which, if it be not spent
upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards
many, and maketh men become humane and charitable, as it
is seen sometimes in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind ;
friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and
embaseth'^ it.

1 Qaarter. Ftoper place (rarely tued in the ringular).

' Swift to thoir sereral quartert hasted then
The combroni elements/ — Milton.
' Check with. To interfere voith ; to clcuh with. * It was not comely or fitting
that in prayers we should make a God or Saviotir of any Sunt in heaven ; neither
was it fitting to make them check with our Saviour.' — 8trype, 1535.

' No ways. In any wUe s by no means. ' And being no ways a match for the
fleet, we set sail to Athens.' — Swift.

* It is remarked by Aristotle in his Polities that warlike nations are those who
pay the highest regard to women. And this he suggests may have given rise to
the fable of the love of Mars and Venus.
^ Embase. Degrade.

« Love did embase him
Into a kitchen-drudge.'— -OU BaUad, 13th century.

Essay x.] Annotations. X03

ANNOTATIONS.

^Men ought to beware of this passion, which loseth not only,
other things, but itself.' . . . ' Whosoever esteemeth
too much of amorous affection, quitteth both riches and
wisdom.'

The following passage is extracted firom an aticle on Miss
Austen's novels, in the Quarterly Review (No. 24, p. 374)
which was reprinted — through a mistake — ^in the Remains of
Sir W. Scott, though it was not written by him.

' Bacon, in these days, would hardly have needed to urge so
strongly the dethronement of the God of Love. The prevailing
&alt is not now, whatever it may have been, to sacrifice ^1 for
love : —

' Venit enim magnum donandi parca juyentua.
Nee tantun Veneris quantum studiooa culinte.'

Mischievous as is the extreme of sentimental enthusiasm, and
a romantic and uncalculating extravagance of passion, it is not
the one into which the young folks of the present day are the
most likely to run. Prudential, calculations are not indeed to be
excluded in marriage : to disregard the advice of sober-minded
friends on an important point of conduct is an imprudence we
would by no means recommend; indeed, it is a species of
selfishness, if, in listening only to the dictates of passion, a man
sacrifices to its gratification the happiness of those most dear to
him as weU as his own ; though it is not now-a-days the most
prevalent form of selfishness. But it is no condemnation of a
sentiment to say, that it becomes blameable when it interferes
with duty, and is uncontrouled by conscience. The desire of
riches, power, or distinction, — ^the taste for ease and comfort, —
are to be condemned when they transgress these bounds ; and
love, if it keep within them, even though it be somewhat tinged
with enthusiasm, and a little at variance with what the worldly
call prudence, — ^that is, regard for pecuniary advantage, — ^may
afford a better moral discipline to the mind than most other
passions. It will not, at least, be denied, that it has often
proved a powerful stimulus to exertion where others have
feiiled, and has called forth talents unknown before, even to the

J04 Of Love. [Essay X.

possessor. What though the pursuit may be fruitless^ and the
hopes visionary? The result may be a real and substantial
benefit, though of another kind ; the vineyard may have been
cultivated by digging in it for the treasure which is nev«r to be
found. What though the perfections with which imagination
has decorated the beloved object, may, in fact, exist but in a
slender degree ? Still they are believed in and admired as
real ; if not, the love is such as does not merit the name ; and
it is proverbially true that men become assimilated to the cha-
racter (that is, what they think the character) of the Being they
fervently adore. Thus, as in the noblest exhibitions of the
stage, though that which is contemplated be but a fiction, it
may be realized in the mind of the beholder; and, though
grasping at a cloud, he may become worthy of possessing a real
godded. Many a generous sentiment, and many a virtuous
resolution, have been called forth and matured by admiration of
one, .who may herself, perhaps, have been incapable of either.
It matters not what the object is that a man aspires to be
worthy of, and proposes as a model of imitation, if he does but
believe it to be excellent. Moreover, all doubts of success (and
they are seldom, if ever, entirely wanting) must either produce
or exercise humility; and the endeavour to study another's
interests and inclinations, and prefer them to one^s own, may
promote a habit of general benevolence which may outlast the
present occasion. Everything, in short, which tends to abstract
a man in any degree, or in any way, from self — ^from self-
admiration and self-interest, — ^has, so far at least, a beneficial
influence on character.'

The effect of mere familiar intercourse in dispelling the
illusions of a fancy-founded love, is well described by Crabbe in
one of the Tales of the Hall, the 'Natural Death of Love.'
A like effect, resulting from a wider acquaintance with the
world, and intercourse with superior persons, is described in a
still better poem (which if not by Crabbe also, is a most admi-
rable imitation of him in his happiest vein), entitled, ' A
Common Tale,' which appeared first in a periodical called
The True Briton, and afterwards in a little book called the
Medley,^

^ Published by Messrs. Smith, in the Strand.

ESSAY XI. OF GREAT PLACE.

■jlllEN in great place are thrice servants — servants of the
iu. sovereign or State^ servants of fame, and servants of busi-
ness; so as* they have no freedom, neither* in their persons,
nor* in their actions, nor in their times. It is a strange desire
to seek power and to lose liberty, or to seek power over others,
and to lose power over a man^s self. The rising nnto place is
laborious, and by pains men come to greater pains ; and it is
sometimes base and by indignities' men come to dignities. The
standing is slippery, aud the regress is either a downfall, or at
least an eclipse, which is a melancholy thing : 'Cum non sis qui
fiieris, non esse cur velis vivere.'* Nay, men cannot retire when
they would, neither will they when it were reason,* but are im-
patient of privateness,' even in age and sickness, which require
the shadow;^ like old townsmen, that will be still sitting at
their street door, though thereby they offer age to scorn. Cer-
tainlj great persons had need to borrow other men^s opinions to
think themselves happy, for if they judge by their own feeling;,
they cannot find it ; but if they think with themselves what
other men think of them, and that other men would fain be as
they are, then they are happy as it were by report, when,
perhaps, they find the contrary within; for they are the first
that find their own griefs, though they be the last that find
their own faults. Certainly, men in great fortunes are strangers
to themselves, and while they are in the puzzle of business, they
have no time to tend their health, either of body or mind : ' HU

> Ab. ThcU, See page 33. ' Neither, nor — ^for either, or,

' Indignity. Meanness.

' Fie on the pelf for which good name is sold.
And honour with indigmfy dehased.' — Spenser,
* ' Since thoa art no longer what thoa wast, there is no reason why thou shonldst
wish to live-'

' Reason, Biffht ; reasonable, * It b not reason that we should leave the word
of God, and aerye tables.' — Aots vi. 2.

• Privateneam, Privacy ; retirement, * He drew him into the fatal circle from
a resolved prU^atsnets at his house^ when he would weU have bent his mind to a
retired oofurse.* — WoUon,
7 SbiKloir. Skade.

* Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
For your good host.'— iS%a^«per«.

io6 Of Great Place. [Essay xi.

mors gravis incabat^ qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus moritur
sibi/* In place there is licence to do good and evil, whereof
the latter is a curse ; for in evil, the best condition is not to
will/ the second not to can.' But power to do good is the
true and lawful end of aspiring ; for good thoughts, though God
accept* them, yet towards men are little better than good
dreams, except they be put in act, and that cannot be without
power and place, as the vantage and commanding ground.
Merit and good works is the end of man^s motion, and con-
science^ of the same is the accomplishment of man's rest; for if
a man can be a partaker of God's theatre, he shall likewise be
partaker of God's rest : ' Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera,
qu« fecerunt manus sure, vidit quod omnia essent bona nimis -^
and then the Sabbath. In the dischai^e of thy place set before
thee the best examples, for imitation is a globe' of precepts ;
and after a time set before thee thine own example, and ex-
amine thyself strictly whether thou didst not best at first.
Neglect not also the examples of those that have carried them-
selves ill in the same place ; not to set off thyself by taxing
their memory, but to direct thyself what to avoid. Reform,
therefore, without bravery* or scandal of former times and
persons ; but yet set it down to thyself, as well to create good
precedents as to follow them. Reduce things to the first
institution, and observe wherein and how they have degene^
rated; but yet ask counsel of both times — of the ancient

' * Death fallB heavily upon him, who, too well known to all men, dies unac-
quainted with himself.'— Senec Thyett, zL 401.

' To will. To be wilUng ; to desire, ' If any man wiU do his will, he shall
know of the doctrine, whether it he of God.' — John vii. 17.

' To can. To be able ; to have power,

* Mecsnas and Agrippa who ea» most with Caesar.' — Drjfden,

* Accept. To regard favourably. * In every nation, he that feareth Him and
worketh righteousness is accepted with Uim.' — Acts x. 35.

* Conscience. Conecioueness, * The reason why the simpler sort are moved
with authority is the conscience of their own ignorances.' — Hooker,

' ' When God turned to behold the works which his hand had made. He saw
that they were all very good.' — Genesis L
7 Globe. A body.

' Him around
A fflobe of fiery seraphim enclosed.' — 3iilton,

* Bravery. Bravado ; parade of defiance,

* By Ashtaroth, thou shalt ere long lament
These braveries in iron.' — Milton.

Essay xi.] Of Great Place. 107

time what is best, and of the latter time what is fittest. Seek
to make thy course regular, that men may know beforehand
what they may expect ; but be not too positive and peremptory,
and express thyself well when thou digressest from thy rule.
Preserve the right of thy place^ but stir not questions of juris-
diction; and rather assume thy right in silence, and defacto^
than voice ' it with claims and challenges. Preserve likewise the
rights of inferior places, and think it more honour to direct in
chief than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps and
adnoes touching the execution of thy place ; and do not drive
away such as bring thee information, as meddlers, but accept of
them in good part.

The vices of authority are chiefly four : delays, corruption,
roughness, and facility. For delays, give easy access; keep
times appointed ; go through with that which is in hand, and
interlace not business but of necessity. For corruption, do not "
only bind thine own hands or thy servants' hands from taking, -
but bmd the hands of suitors also from offering ; for int^rity
used doth the one, but integrity professed, and with a manifest /
detestation of bribery, doth the other ; and avoid not only thej ^ ,
feult, but the suspicion. Whos oever is fouiid variable, and A ^ "^
change^jEuaniffistly-^ifithuut mani fo o t e au B 0i «ffge fe suspicio u of ,- \ ^ ^<^
corroptionj therefore, always, when thou changest thine opinion ^

orSuweTprofess it plainly, and declare it, together with the
reasons that move thee to change, and do not think to steal' it.
A servant or a favourite, if he be inward,^ and no other appa-
rent cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way to
close corruption. For roughness, it is a needless cause of
discontent: severity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth
hate. Even reproofs from authority ought to be grave, and
not taunting. As for facility, it is worse than bribery, for bribes

^ In hdt, SeaHy; ffirtwUly.
' Yoloe. 2b asserts to declare.

* When I shaU iBoice alond liow good
• He is, how great should be.' — Lovelace,

' Steid. To do secretly.

"Twere good to steal onr munitige.''- Skakespere.

* Inward. Intimate.

'Who is moat inward with the noble dvike.*^»8hakespere.

* AH uy inward friends abhorred me.' — Job xix. 19.

io8 Of Great Place. [Essay xL

come but now and then ; but if importunity or idle respects^
lead a man^ he shall never be without ; as Solomon saith^ ' To
respect persons it is not good^ for such a man will transgress
for a piece of bread.'

It is most true what was anciently spoken — ' A place showeth
the man ; and it showeth some to the better^ and some to the
worse/ ' Omnium consensu, capax imperii, nisi imp^rasset/ *
saith Tacitus of Galba ; but of Vespasian he saith, ^ Solus
imperantium, Yespasianus mutatus in melius ' ' — ^though the one
was meant of sufficiency, the other of manners and afifectibn/
It is an assured sign of a worthy and generous spirit, whom
honour amends — for honour is, or shoidd be, the place of virtue
—and as in nature things move violently to their place, and
calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is violent, in au->
thority settled and calm. All rising to great place is by a
winding stair; and if there be factions, it is good to side a
man^s self whilst he is in the rising, and to balance himself
when he is placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor fairly
and tenderly; for if thou dost not, it is a debt will surely be
paid when thou art gone. If thou have colleagues, respect
them ; and rather call them when they look not for it, than
exclude them when they have reason to look to be called. Be
not too sensible or too remembering of thy place in conversa-
tion and private answers to suitors ; but let it rather be said,
^ When he sits in place, he is another man.'

ANTITHETA ON GRKAT PLACE.

FBOb Comnu.

* Dum honoreB appefcimu^, Ubertatem
• • • • eraimus.

« WhUe «M are nekinff for greai
place, we are eUipping oureelvee qf
liberty.'

^Respects. ConHderations ; moHves, * WhatBoeyer secret refp^dv were likely
to move them.' — Hooker,

' I would have doflTd all other reepeoteJ-^Shakeepere,
' ' One whom all would have congidered jBt for rule, if he had not ruled.'
' ' Alone of all the emperors, VespaBian was dianged for the hotter.' — ^Tacit.
Sist, i. 9, 5a
* Afibction. JHepoeitions general state of mind*
' There grows
In my most ill composed aff'ection, such
A stanchless avarice/ — Shakeepere,

Essay xl.]

Annotations.

109

PBa

' HonoreB f%unant et yirtntes et vitia
eonspicaa; itaqne illas provoeant, hiec

* Great place makee hoik virtuee and
meet eonepieuout ; aceordinglif it is an
iMoeutwe to the one and rettraine ike
oiker.*

'Non noYit qmaqnam, qnantnm in
Tirtatis cona proifecerit; niu honores ei
cunpam probeant apertom.

'No one knows kow far ke has ad'
eaneed on tke road of virtue, unless
pehUe qfflce affords Urn a field for
action/

Coimu..

* Honores dant fere potestatem earum
reram, quas optima conditio est nolle»
prozima non powe.

'The things which are placed in a
man's power hy high oj/toe, are, for the
most part, suck as ii would be the best
thing to want the wish, and the next
best to want the power to do*

*Hononim asoensns ardans, statio
Idbrica, reg^ressns prsBceps.

• The asoentto high office is steep, the
summit slippery, the descent precipitous.'

* Qui in honore sunt, vnlgi opinionem
mntoentar oportet» at seipsoe beatos
patent.

'T^se who hold high office must
borrow the view which the vulgar take
of them^ in order to think themsehee
happy.'

ANNOTATIONS.

A work entitled The Bishop (bj the late Dr. Cooke Taylor, bat withoot his name),
eontuns so many apprt^ate remarks, that I take the liberty of giving several
qootations from it It oonsists of letters professed to be addressed to a
xeoently-appcnnted Bishop.

' Power to do good is the true and laurfvl end of a8piri$ig/

' Two classes of men occupy high station ; those whose time

has been spent in thinking how it could be attained ; and those

who have mainly bestowed their attention on the use that should

be made of it when attained. Were there no world but this^

the conduct of the latter would justly be reckoned preposterous;

they would be regarded as * seers of visions and dreamers of

dreams/ "When, however, they do by chance find themselves

preferred^ they are not only well disposed but ready qualified to

Qse their advantages rightly ; for the art of true obedience is

the best guide to the art of true command. On the contrary,

he who has thought only of the means by which he might climb,

however good his intentions^ is generally somewhat abroad

▼hen he has completed the ascent. He is like those whom we

fi^uently meet, that have spent the best part of their life in

no Of Great Place. [Essay xi.

making a fortune, and then do not know what to do with it.
Eager to get up^ they forget to determine the nature of the
ground on which they stand, and they consider not how it is
related to that which they desire to attain : when they have
ascended, their former station is at too great a distance to be
surveyed accurately, and the reciprocal influences cannot be
understood, because one side is removed beyond the reach of
observation/ (Page 329.)

'JJter a time set before thee thine own example,'

' There is a strong temptation to sacrifice the consciousness
of individuality for the sympathy of the multitude. The peril
of being seduced from our proper orbit is not less great, when
we seek to join, than when we try to avoid others. There are
those who are willing to err with Plato, and there are those
who are unwilling to go right with Epicurus. A cause is not
necessarily good because some good men have favoured it, nor
necessarily bad because bad men have supported it ; yet we all
know that many well-meaning men voted against the abolition
of the slave-trade, because it was advocated by some partisans
of the French Revolution '

* It might at first sight appear that the absurdities of party,
so obvious to every thinking man, would render the adoption of
a right course a matter of no very great diflSculty ; indeed, an
aphorism is already provided for our guidance, which apparently
is as simple and easy as the rule of party itself: ' Steer dear of
both parties ; hold the middle course/ But simple and sound
as the maxim may appear, its validity will be greatly weakened
by a close examination. Both parties are not absolutely wrong ;
each is partially wrong and partially right ; to keep always
equidistant from both is to keep away firom the truths as well
as from the falsehoods, and to expose yourself to the chance, or
rather to the certainty, of being influenced by each in turn.

' It is impossible for a man to realize the fable of Moham-
med's coflSn, and remain for ever balanced between equipollent
attractions, but he may oscillate like a pendulum between the
two extremes. In such a case, he will yield to both psCrties, be
duped by both, and be despised by all. The truly independent
course is to act as if party had no existence ; to follow that
which is wisest and best in itself, irrespective of the side which

Essay xi.] Annotations. m

makes the loudest daim to the monopoly of goodness. No
doubt^ such a course will often approach^ or rather be ap-
proached by, the orbit of one party at one time, and the other
at another, just as each of them chances to come the nearer to
what is really right. Nay more, as each party does possess
some truth mingled with its falsehoods, it is perfectly possible
to be identified with one of two bigoted and opposed parties on
some special question, and to be similarly identified with the
other party on a different question

' These coincidences may be called the Nodes of the different
orbits ; and when they occur, the proper movements are most
subject to disturbing influences. The attraction of party varies
inversely as the square of the distance ; when you are brought
near a powerful and organized mass, there is a strong tempta-
tion to pass over the intervening space.' (Pages 46-48.)

' The demand on a great man's liberality is greatly increased
if he holds himself aloof from party ; for this offence forgiveness
can only be purchased by a very lavish system of disbursements;
and, after all, he must be prepared to find that every shUling

bestowed by party-men is equivalent to his pound

It is not necessary to dilate on the merits of prudent economy,
but assuredly nowhere is such a virtue more indispensably
required than when demands on expenditure are regulated, not
by realities, but by imaginations.

' Great as is the evil of having your expenditure of money and
time measured by the imagination of persons who do not trouble
themselves to investigate realities, the evil is fearfully aggravated
by the diversity of objects to which each set of imaginings refers.
Those who surround you seem to act literally on Swift's advice
to servants, each of whom is recommended to do his best in his
own particular department, to spend the whole of his master's
property. Thus it is with your money and time ; every person
teems to expect that both should be bestowed on his favourite
project to their extreme amount, and no one is disposed to take
into account that there are other claims and demands which
should not be abridged in their fair proportions. There will be
a combination to entrap you into a practical exemplification of
' the sophism of composition ;' men will say, you can afford this,
that, or the other expense : forgetting that all together will ruin
you.' (Page 84.)

112 Of Great Place. fEssay xi.

' Reform, therefore, without bravery or scandal of former times
and persons ; but yet set it dovm to thysejf, as weU to create
good precedents as to follow them/

* To warn a pubUc man (says the aathor of The Bishop) of
ordinary sense^ against innovation^ is just as idle as to warn him
against taking physic; he will have recouise to neither one nor
the other^ unless forced by necessity. The thing to be feared
in both cases is^ that he will delay the a^qpUcation of alteratives
tmtil the disease can only be cored by violent remedies. One
of the finest milk in our manufacturing districts is also one of
the oldest ; the machinery in it has always kept abreast with
the progress of modem invention, but it has never been closed
a single day for the purpose of renovation or repair. I asked
its proprietor the explanation of so remarkable a phenomenon ;
he gave it in one sentence, * I am always altering, but never
changing.^ Men sometimes deal with institutions as Sir John
Cutler did with his stockings; they dam them with worsted
until, &om silken, they are changed into woollen, while the stupid
owners persist in asserting their continued identity. The cry
of ' innovation' belongs exclusively to the Duncery ; but re-
luctance to change is a feeling shared with them by sensible
people.

^ Among the many fiollacies of the day that pass unquestioned,
there is none more general nor more fallacious than that inno-
vation is popular ; the tmth is, that a judicious innovator is
likely to be, at least for a time, the most unpopular man in the
universe ; he will be hated by those who are satisfied with old
evils ; he will be disliked by the timid and the la8y> who dread
the peril and the trouble of change; and he will receive little
favour from those most conscious of the evil, because his
remedies will not act as a charm, and remove in an instant the
accumulated ills of centuries

' Some persons are not aware of the fact, that in all men the
love of ease is far superior to the love of change; in the serious
concerns of life, novelty is never desired for its own sake ; then,
habit becomes a second nature, and it is only the positive pres-
sure of evil that can drive us to alteration. We do find men
occasionally rash and insatiable in changing; but this is only

Essay xi.] Annotations. 1 13

£rom their being impatient under the sense of real evils^ and in
error as to remedies. The violent vicissitudes of the first
French Revolution were not the result of a mad love of experi-
ments; they were produced by the national bankruptcy of
France and the starving condition of the people of Paris. An
ignorant man suffering under painful disease will try the pre-
scription of every mountebank^ and without waiting to see how
one quack medicine operates^ will have recourse to another. A
fevered nation, like a feverish patient, turns from side to side —
not through love of change, but because, while the disease
continues, any fixed posture must be painful. The physician
who superintends his condition knows that his restlessness and
impatience are symptoms of the disease : it would be well if
those who superintend our political and ecclesiastical state,
while they justly regard discontents and disturbances as evils in
themselves, would abo look upon them as certain signs that
there is something wrong somewhere.' (Pages 315-318.)

' Embrace and invite helps and advices touching the execution of

thy office/

' The dread of unworthy imputations of undue influence may
often drive a worthy man into a perilous course. The fear of
being deemed an imitator is scarcely less dangerous than that
of being supposed to be led. We frequently see those who re-
gard the comrse of a wise and good man with mingled affection
and veneration, influenced by his example for the worse rather
than for the better, by indulging their ruling passion for origin-
ality, and by their abhorrence of being regarded as followers
and imitators. . To avoid coincidences becomes the great labour
of their lives, and they take every opportunity of ostentatiously
declaring the originality and independence of their course. Nay,
they will not only declare their originality, but they will seek
to make or find opportunities of exhibiting it, though the course
they adopt in consequence may be contrary to their own secret
judgment. A man who yields to this weakness, which is far
more rife than the world generally believes, is the slave of any
one who chuses to work upon his foible. The only thing
requisite to make him commit any conceivable folly, is to dare
him to depart from his friend's counsel or example. Misa

114 Of Great Place. [Essay xi.

Edgeworth, in her Juvenile Tales, has admirably illustrated the
consequence of yielding to such fears ; Tarlton in vain strove to
persuade the weak Lovett to break bounds by appeals to his
courage^ but when he hinted that his refusal would be attributed
to his dependence on the strong-minded Hardy^ the poor boy
sprang over the wall with nervous alacrity. This dread of
imitation often leads to the neglect of valuable suggestions
which might be derived firom the tactics and example of
adversaries. ^ Fas est et ab hoste doceri/ is a maxim more
frequently quoted than acted on, and yet its wisdom is con-
firmed by every day^s experience. A casual remark made long
ago to me by your Lordship contains the rationale of the whole
matter — 'It is ignorance, and not knowledge, that rejects
instruction; it is weakness, and not strength, that refuses
co-operation.' (Page 77.)

'In bestowing office, and in selecting instruments, a man
anxious to do his duty must take into account both the kind
and degree of fitness in the candidates. Of the degrees of intel-
ligence the world is a very incompetent judge, and of the difier-
ences in kind, it knows little or nothing. "With the vulgar
everything is good, bad, or middling ; and if three persons are
worthy and intelligent men, you will find that the preference
you show to any one of them is considered to be the result of
mere caprice. For instance, you know that the clerical requi-
sites for an agricultural parish are different from those necessary
in a manufacturing district, and that both are dissimilar to the
qualifications for a chaplaincy to a collegiate institution, or for
a prebendal stall. Your choice will be guided by these con-
siderations ; but, beyond doubt, you will find very few who can
appreciate or even understand such motives. . . . Now,
this want of discriminating power and knowledge in the spec*
tators of your career, will by no means induce them to suspend
the exercise of their £Edlacious judgment ; on the contrary,
opinions will be pronounced most positively by those who are
most wanting in opportunity to discover, and in capacity to
estimate, your motives. But the erroneous judgments of others
must not lead you to be suspicious of your own ; the value of
the tree will be finally known by its fruits, — ^it would be folly
to neglect its training, or to grub it up, because people ignorant
of the adaptations of soil to growth, tell you that another tree

Essay xi.] Annotations, 115

in the same place would be more useful or more ornamental.
You know both the soil and the plant — the vast majority of
your censurers will know nothing of the one, and marvellously
little of the other/ (Page 1 74.)

' IVhen thou changest thine opinion or course, profess it plainhj,
and declare it, together with the reasons that moved thee to
change/

Considering that the course Bacon here recommends is not
only the most ingenuous and dignified, but also the most pru-
dent with a view to men's approbation, it is wonderful hnw
often this maxim is violated. Many persons will rather back
out of an opinion or course of conduct, by the most awkward
shifts, than frankly acknowledge a change of mind. They seem
I to dread nothing so much as a suspicion of what they call
1 'inconsistency/ that is, owning oneself to be wiser to-day than
I yesterday.

It has been pointed out in the Elements of Rhetoric,^ that
there is no inconsistency (though the term is often improperly
80 applied) in a change of opinion, provided it be frankly
avowed ; since this is what any sensible man, conscious of be^ng
&llible, holds himself always ready for, if good reasons can ba
shown. Indeed, any one who, while not cl aiminj^, i4afellibili ty^
yet resolves n ever ,to_alter his opinion, is, in that^ mamfes^tly
inconsistent. For, real inconsistency^ is the holdiiig^^itUer_
^itrasly or impKcdlj— two opposite minions at the same time ;
W,"1of ^instance^ proclaiming the natural right of all men l£o
freedom, and yet maintaining a system of slavery ; or condemn--
ing disingenuous conduct in one party, which, in the opposite
party, you vindicate; or confessing yourself fallible, and yet
resolving to be immutable.

It is remarkable that a change is sometimes falsely imputed
to a man in high office, or otherwise influential, as a device of
party-crafty or to cover a change in the way of treating him.
When some Party has been vainly trying to hunt down (as the
phrase is) by calumny and vexatious opposition, one who refuses
to join them, and they find that their assaults instead of prevail-

^ Fftrt u. chap. uL soc 5.

I Z

1 15 Of Great "Place, [Essay xi.

ing, rather recoil on themselves, or perhaps that he may be a
useful help to them in some object^ the most crafty of them
will sometimes give out that he has changed^ and is converted^
— or in a fair way to be converted — ^to their party : — that he
has ' modified his views/ and is becoming (suppose) ' Conserva-
tive/ or ' Liberal/ or * Orthodox/ or ' Evangelical/ &c., as the
case may be. Thus they escape the shame (as the vulgar ac-
count it) of frankly owning that they were wrong in their
former persecution. And, moreover, they perhaps hope actually
to win him to their Party ; or at least, to persuade the multi-
tude that they have done so ; and thus enlist at least the influ-
ence of his name in their cause.

^A servant or a favourite, if he be inward, and no other apparent
cause of esteem, is commonly thought but a by-way to close
corruption.*

* If the relations you form with your subordinates, particu-
larly those whose position brings them into frequent and imme-
diate contact with you, be founded on intellectual sympathies,
and common views of great principles, efforts will be made to
sow discord between you, by representing him as the juggler,
and you as the puppet. In this case calumny disguises its
imputation by flattery, and compliments your heart at the
expense of your head. ' He is,' the maligners vrill say, * a very
worthy, well-meaning man, but he sees only with A. B.'s eyes,
and acts only on A. B.'s suggestions ; he is a very good and
clever man, but he thinks by proxy.'

* If you are a student, — ^if you have acquired any reputation
for scholarship or literature, — but, above all, if you have ever
been an author, this imputation will be circulated and credited ;
for one of .the most bitter pieces of revenge which readers take
on writers, is to receive implicitly the aphorism of the block-
heads, that studious habits produce jbji inaptitude for the busi-
ness of active life.

' The imputation of being led is not very pleasant, but it may
very safely be despised ; in the long run men will learn to judge
of your actions from their nature, and not from their supposed
origin. But the nature of this calumny deserves to be more
closely investigated, because there is nothing more injurious to

Essay xi.] Annotations. 117

public men than the jealousy of subordinate strength which it
is designed to produce. The cases are, indeed, very rare, of an
upright, sensible man being led either by a kndve or a fool ; but
there are countless examples of a weak man being led by a
weaker, or a low-principled man by a downright rogue. Now,
in most of these cases, it will be found that the subjugation
arose from trusting to the impossibility of being led by one of
obviously inferior strength. Cunning is the wisdom of weak-
ness, and those who chuse the wea^ for their instruments,
expose themselves to its arts.' (Pages 68-70.)

And here it is to be observed that it is (as Dr. Taylor hints
in the passage above) a common artifice of those who wish to
disparage some person of too high character to be assailed
openly, to profess great esteem and veneration for him, but to
lament his being ' in bad hands / — misled by evil counsellors,
' who make him think and do whatever they will. This is just
; the manifesto put forth by most rebels 3 who honour, forsooth,
J their king, but rise in arms to drive away his bad advisers.
Now, though Belittle boymsLj be on the whole a promising child,
— notwithstanding that he may have been seduced or bullied
into something wrong, by naughty seniors, a man, and one in.
high station, if he really does allow himself to be led blindfold
by weak or wicked men, is evidently good-for-nothing. And such
therefore must be the opinion really entertained of a person to
whom this is imputed, how much soever of esteem and venera-
tion may be professed.

^As for facility, it is worse than bribery.^

f * It is scarcely necessary to dwell on the necessity of caution
in bestowing confidence ; it is the highest &vour in your power
to confer^ and deliberation enhances an act of kindness just as
mnch as it aggravates an act of malice. ' Favours which seem
1 to be dispensed upon an impulse, with an unthinking facility,
1 are reoeiTed like the liberalities of a spendthrift, and men thank
\God for them.' It is of more importance to observe that even
a greater degree of caution is necessary in suspending or with-
drawing confidence ; gross indeed should be the treachery, and
unquestionable the proofs, that would justify such a course.
The world generally wiU blame your original choice ; your dis-

ii8 Of Great Place. [Essay xi.

cw*ded« adherent will be lowered in his own esteem, and conse-
quently will thus far have made a sad progress in moral
degradation ; and your own mind will not escape scatheless ; for
greater proneness to suspicion will of necessity develope itself
in your character. Most of all is caution required in restoring
confidence ; constitutional changes are wrought in every moral
principle during its period of suspended animation; though
the falling-out of lovers be proverbially the renewal of love, it
is questionable whether the suspended confidence of friends
is ever wholly efifaced in its influences. Had Caesar recovered
from the stab which Brutus gave him, he might, with his usual
clemency, have pardoned the crime; but he would not have
been the Caesar I take him for, if he did not ever after adopt
the precaution of wearing armour when he was in company
with Brutus. The hatred of an enemy is bad enough, but no
earthly passion equals in its intensity the hatred of a friend.'
(Page 72.)

* There are people who believe that the voice of censure
should never be heard in an interview, and that you have no
right to rebuke presumption, check interference, or make men
conscious of their weakness. You are to afifect a humility, by
which you tacitly confess yourself destitute of moral judgment.
But you must remember that, in interviews connected with your
official station, you appear for the most part as an adjudicator;
an appeal is made to you, as holding the balance of justice, and
also as wielder of its sword. ' A righteous humility,' says the
author of the Statesman, ^ will teach a man never to pass a
sentence in a spirit of exultation: a righteous courage will
teach him never to withhold it from fear of being disliked.
Popularity is commonly obtained by a dereliction of the duties
of censure, under a pretext of humility.' (Page 256.)

* There is great danger of praise from men in high place
being identified with promise, and compliment tortured into
grounds of hope, — ^not always hope of promotion, but hope of
influencing promotion. Your approbation warmly expressed
will be deemed to have a value beyond the mere expression of
your opinion, and though you expressly guard against expecta-
tions, you will nevertheless raise them. A late chancellor, to
whom more books were sent and dedicated than he could
possibly read if his life was prolonged to antediluvian duration^

Essay xi.] Annotations. 119

by the complimentary answers he sent to the authors, gathered
ronnd him a host of expectants, and produced a mass of suffering
which would scarcely be credited save by those who were per-
soDally acquainted with it. Kindness and cordiality of manner
are scarcely less pleasing to the feelings than express compli-
ment, and they are the more safe for both parties, since they
afford no foundation for building up expectations ; a species of
architecture sufficiently notorious for the weakness of the foun-
dations that support an enormous superstructure/ (Page 163.}

' Severity breedeth fear J

[ * It may be doubted whether it is politic, where a man has

wholly lost your esteem, and has no chance of regaining it, to

let him know that his doom is fixed irrevocably. The hope of

recovering his place in your estimation may be a servicealitle

check on his conduct; and if he supposes you to be merely

angry with him (a mistake commonly made by vulgar minds),

\ he may hope and try to pacify you by an altered course, trusting

\ that in time you will forget all. In such a case you need not

I do or say anything deceitful ; you have only to leave him in his

," error. On the other hand, if he finds that you have no reseot-

; ment, but that your feeling is confirmed disesteem, and that the

absence of all anger is the very consequence of such a feelinj^^^

! for you cannot be angry where you do not mean to trust again

1 — he may turn out a mischievous hater.

'On the whole, however, the firank, open-hearted course is
the more politic in the long run. If you use towards all whom
you really esteem, a language which in time will come to be
fully understood by all, from its being never used except where
you really esteem, then, and then only, you will deserve and
obtain the full reliance of the worthy. They will feel certain
that they possess your esteem, and that if they do anything by
which it may be forfeited, it will be lost for ever. To establish
such a belief is the best means of preserving the peace and
purity of your circle, and it is worth while risking some enmity
to effect eo desirable an object.

' It must, however, be observed that it is equally politic and
Christian-like to avoid breaking with anybody : while you pur-
cha^ no man's forbearance by false hopes of his regaining your

J 20 Of Great Place. [Essay xi.

esteem, yon must not drive him into hostility through fear of
your doing him a mischief. The rule of Spartan warfare is not
inapplicable to the conduct of a christian statesman ; never give
way to an assailing enemy, — never pursue a flying foe further
than is necessary to secure the victory. Let it be always
understood that it is safe to yield to you, and you will remove
the worst element of resistance, despair of pardon/ (Pages
72-76.)

' Be not too remembering of thy place in conversation and private
answers to suitors.*

There may, however, be an error on the opposite side. —
' Men are often called aflable and no way proud,' says Dr. Cooke
Taylor in the work already quoted, ' who really exhibit a vulgar
sort of pride in taking liberties, and talking to their inferiors
with a kind of condescending familiarity which is gratifying to
mean minds, but which to every person of delicacy, is the most
odious form of insolence. If you wish to be familiar with an
inferior, let him rather feel that you have raised him to your
own level than that you have lowered yourself to his. You
may see the propriety of this aphorism unfortunately manifested
in books written by clever men for the use of the humble
classes, and for children. Many of these are rejected as ofien-
sive, because the writers deem it necessary to show that they
are going down to a low level of understanding ; their familiarity
becomes sheer vulgarity, and their affected simplicity is puzzle-
headed obscurity. The condescension of some great people is
like the ' letting down' in such authors ; they render themselves
more ridiculous than Hercules at the court of Omphale, for
they assume the distaff without discarding the dub and lion's
skin. It is also very unfair ; for those who go to admire the
spinning, or to be amused at its incongruity, are exposed to
the danger of getting an awkward knock from the dub.'
(Page 180.)

Essay xi.] Annotations. 121

* Certainly, men in great fortunes are strangers to themselves, and
while they are in the puzzle of business they have no time to
tend their health either of body or mind.*

The following passage from The Bishop bears upon this en-
grossment in public business : — * There are two opposite errors
into which many public men have fallen ; on the one hand^
^allowing family concerns to intermingle with public business,
|on the other, sacrificing to their station all the enjoyments of
private life. The former interference is rare ; it is so obviously
a source of perplexity and annoyance, that it soon works its own
cure ; but the latter ' grows by what it feeds upon/ Unless you
habitually court the privacy of the domestic circle, you will find
that you are losing that intimate acquaintance with those who
compose it which is its chief charm, and the source of all its
advantage. In your family alone can there be that intercourse
of heart with heart which falls like refreshing dew on the soul
when it is withered and parched by the heats of business and
the intense selfishness which you must hourly meet in public
life. Unless your affections are sheltered in that sanctuary,
they cannot long resist the blighting influence of a constant
repression of their development, and a compulsory substitution
of calculation in their stead. Domestic privacy is necessary, not
only to your happiness, but even to your efl&ciency ; it gives the
rest necessary to your active powers of judgment and discrimi-
nation ; it keeps unclosed those well-springs of the heart whose
flow is necessary to float onwards the determination of the head.
It is not enough that the indulgence of these affections shoidd
fill up the casual chinks of your time ; they must have their
allotted portion of it, with which nothing but urgent necessity
should be allowed to interfere. These things are the aliments
of his greatness ; they preserve within him that image of moral
beauty which constant intercoiu'se with the public world — that
is, the world with its worst side outwards — ^is too likely to
efTace. ' If our clergy had been permitted to marry,' said an
intelligent Romanist, * we never should have had inquisitors.' '
(Page 327.)

122 0/ Great Place. [Essay xi.

^ A place showeth the man: and it showeth some to the better,
and some to the worse.*

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

* Two children once, at eventide,
Tlins prattled by their parents' ade :-*
' See, mother, see that stormy doud 1
What can its inky bosom shroud ?
It looks so black, I do declare
I shudder quite to see it there.'
' And father, father, now behold
Those others, all of pink and ^1d !
How beautlM and bright thdr hue !
I wish that I were up there too :
For, if they look so fine from here, *

What must they be when one is near I'
' Children,' the smiling sire replied,
* I've climbed a mountain's lofty side.
Where, lifted 'mid tbe clouds awhile.
Distance no longer could beguile :
And closer seen, I needs must say
That all the clouds are merely grey ;
Differing in tihade from one another.
But each in colowr like his brother.
Those clouds you see of gold and pink,
To others look as black as ink ;
And that same cloud, so black to you.
To some may wear a golden hue.
E'en so, my children, they whom fate
Has planted in a low estate,

! See Fourth Book of the Letwnsfor the Use qf I^aiumal Schools, p. 49.

Essaj xi.] Annotations. 123

Viewing their rulers from afar.

Admire what prodigies they are.

O ! what a tyrant ! dreadful doom !

His crimes have wrapped oar land in gloom' !

A tyrant ! nay, a hero this,

The glorious source of all our hliss !

But they who haunt the magic sphere.

Beholding then its inmates near.

Know that the men, hy some adored.

By others flouted and ahhorred.

Nor sink so low, nor rise so high.

As seems it to the vulgar eye.

The man his party deems a hero.

His foes^ a Judas, or a Nero-«

Patriot of superhuman worth.

Or Yilest wretch that onmhers earth.

Derives his bright or murky hues

From distant and from party views ;

Seen dose, nor black nor gold are they.

But every one a whergrey* *

ESSAY XIL OF BOLDNESS.

IT is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy a wise
man^s consideration : question was asked of Demosthenes,^
what was the chief part of an orator ? He answered, action :
what next ? action : what next again ? action. He said it that
knew it best, and had by nature himself no advantage in that he
commended. A strange thing, that that part of an orator which
is but superficial, and rather the virtue of a player, should be
placed so high above those other noble parts, of invention, elo-
cution, and the rest ; nay, almost alone, as if it were all in all.
But the reason is plain. There is in human nature generally
more of the fool than of the wise; and therefore those faculties
by which the foolish part of men^s minds is taken, are most
potent. Wonderful like is the case of boldness in civil busi-
ness; what first? boldness: what second and third? boldness.
And yet boldness is a child of ignorance and baseness, far infe-
rior to other parts : but, nevertheless, it doth fascinate, and
bind hand and foot those that are either shallow in judgment or
weak in courage, which are the greatest part, yea, and prevaileth
with wise men at weak times ; therefore we see it hath done
wonders in popular States, but with senates and princes less —
and more, ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into
action, than soon after ; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise.
Surely, as there are mountebanks for the natural body, so there
are mountebanks for the politic' Body — men that undertake
great cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two or three ex-
periments, but want the grounds of science, and therefore cannot
hold out. Nay, you shall see a bold fellow many times do
Mahomet^s miracle. Mahomet made the people believe that
he would call a hill to him, and from the top of it ofier up his
prayers for the observers of his law. The people assembled ;
Mahomet called the hill to come to him again and again;
and when the hill stood still, he was never a whif abashed, but

' Pint. Vit.BemoHh, 17, 18. ' Politic PoUHeal; eiuU.

' Whit. The leatt degree ; the smaUeH particle, * Not %whU behind the very
chiefest Apostles.'— 2 Cor. xi. 5.

Essay xii.] Annotations. laj

said, ^ If the hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go
to the hill/ So these men, when they have promised great
matters, and failed most shamefully, yet, if they have the per-
fection of boldness, they will but slight it over,' and mnke a
turn, and no more ado/ Certainly, to men of great judgmeat,
bold persons are sport to behold — nay, and to the vulgar also
boldness hath somewhat of the ridiculous : for, if absurdity ht
the subject of laughter, doubt you not but great boldness is
seldom without some absurdity : especially it is a sport to see
when a bold fellow is out of countenance, iFor that puts hh face
into a most shrunken and wooden posture, as needs it must —
for in bashfulness the spirits do a little go and come — but witli
bold men, upon like occasion, they stand at a stay;^ like a stale
at chess, where it is no mate, but yet the game cannot stir ; but
this last were fitter for a satire than for a serious observation.
This is well to be weighed, that boldness is ever blind, for it
seeth not dangers and inconveniences: therefore it h ill in
counsel, good in execution; so that the right use of bold
persons is, that they never command in chief, but be seconds,
and under the direction of others ; for in counsel it is good to
see dangers, and in execution not to see them, except they he
very great.

ANNOTATIONS.

' Boldness is a child of ignorance and baseness far inferior to

other parts J

Bacon seems to have had that over-estimate of those ^vho
are called the ' prudent ' which is rather common. One cause
of the supposed superiority of wisdom often attributed to tlie
over-cautious, reserved, non-confiding, non-enterprising cliarac*

^ Slight over. To treat carelessly,

* HiB death, and your deliverance,
Were themes that ought not to he slighted over* — Dryden^
' Ado. ' Much Ado ahoat Nothing.' — Shakespere,
' Stay. Btaftd ; cessation of progression.
* Never to decay
Until his revolution was at stay.' — Milton.

k^

126 Of Boldness. [Essay xii.

ters^ as compared with the more open^ free*spoken^ active^ and
daring, is the tendency to over-rate the amount of what is
distinctly known. The bold and enterprising are likely to
meet with a greater number of tangible failures than the over-
cautious : and yet if you take a hundred average men of each
description, you will find that the bold have had, on the whole,
a more successful career. But the failures — ^that is, the non-
success — of the over^cautious, cannot be so distinctly traced.
Such a man only misses the advantages— often very great —
which boldness and &ee-speaking might have gained. He who
always goes on foot will never meet with a fall &om a horse, or
be stopped on a journey by a restive horse ; but he who rides,
though exposed to these accidents, will, in the end, have accom-
plished more journeys than the other. He who lets his land
lie fallow, will have incurred no losses firom bad harvests; but
he will not have made so much of his land as if he had ven-
tured to encounter such risks.

The kind of boldness which is most to be deprecated — or at
least as much so as the boldness of ignorance — is daring, un-
accompanied by firmness and steadiness of endurance. Such
was that which Tacitus attributes to the Gauls and Britons;
' Eadem in deposcendis periculis audacia; eadem in detrectandis,
ubi advenerint, formido/^ This character seems to belong to
those who have — ^in phrenological language — Hope, and Com-
bativenessy large, and Firmness small.

^ * The nme daring in ruahmg into dangers, and the same timidil^ in shrinking
from them when they come.'

ESSAY XIII. OF GOODNESS, AND GOODNESS
OF NATURE.

I TAKE goodness in this sense, — ^the affecting* of the weal
of men, which is that the Grecians call Philanthmpia ;
and the word humanity, as it is used, is a little too light to
express it. Gbodness, I call the habit, and goodness of nature
the inclination. This, of all virtues and dignities of the mitid,
is the greatest, being the character of the Deity; and without
it, man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing, no better tliau
a kind of vermin. Goodness answers to the theological virtue.
Charity, and admits no excess but error. The desire of power
m excess caused the angels to fall — ^the desire of knowledge in
excess caused Man to fall ; but in charity there is no excess^
neither can angel or Man come in danger by it. The inclina-
tion to goodness is imprinted deeply in the nature of Man;
insomuch, that if it issue not towards men, it will take unto
other living creatures; as it is seen in the Turks, a cruel peoplej
who, nevertheless, are kind to beasts, give alms to dogs and
birds; insomuch as Busbechius' reporteth, a christian boy in
Constantinople had liked to have been stoned for gagging, in a
waggishness, a long-billed fowl. Errors, indeed, in this virtue,
in goodness or charity, may be committed. The Italians have of
it an ungracious proverb, ' Tanto buon che val niente,'' and one
of the doctors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel, had the confidence to
put in writing, almost in plain terms, ' That the christian faith
had given up good men in prey to those who are tyrannical and
unjust ^ which he spake, because, indeed, there was never law,
or sect^ or opinion, did so much magnify goodness as the
christian religion doth; therefore, to avoid the scandal, and the
danger both, it is good to take knowledge ^ of the errors of a
habit so excellent. Seek the good of other men, but be not in

' AHeetiDgv The being desirous of; aiming at. See page i.
* Buabechinm. A learned Flemiog of the i6th oentury, in Ida Traoels in ih0
£asf.

* * 80 good tbat be is good for nothing.'

* Take knowledge ot Take cognizance of. 'Tbejiook knowledge of tbeni^
that thej bad been wHh Jesoa.'— .ic^ iv. 13.

128 Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii.

bondage to their faces or fancies ; for that is but facility or
softness, which taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither give
thou jEsop's cock a gem, who would be better pleased and
happier if he had a barley-corn. The example of God teacheth
the lesson truly: * He sendeth his rain, and maketh his sun to
shine upon the just and the unjust/ but he doth not rain wealth
nor shine honour and virtues upon men equally: common
benefits are to be communicated with all, but peculiar benefits
with choice. And beware how in making the portraiture thou
breakest the pattern ; for divinity maketh the love of ourselves
the pattern — ^the love of our neighbours but the portraiture :
* Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me;' but
sell not all thou hast, except thou come and follow me — ^that is,
except thou have a vocation' wherein thou mayest do as much
good with little means as with great — for otherwise, in feeding
the streams thou driest the fountain.

Neither is there only a habit of goodness directed by right
reason ; but there is in some men, even in nature, a disposi-
tion towards it, as, on the other side, there is a natural
malignity; for there be that in their nature do not afiect
the good of others. The lighter sort of malignity tumeth
but to a crossness, or frowardness, or aptness to oppose, or
difi&dleness,' or the like; but the deeper sort to envy, and
mere mischief. Such men, in other men's calamities, are, as
it were, in season, and are ever on the loading^ part — ^not
so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus' sores, but like flies
that are still buzzing upon anything that is raw — misanthropi
[men-haters], that make it their practice to bring men to the
bough, and yet never have a tree for the purpose in their
gardens, as Timon^ had: such dispositions are the very errors of
human nature, and yet they are the fittest timber to make great
politics* of — like to knee-timber,* that is good for ships that are
ordained to be tossed, but not for building houses that shall
stand firm.

* Vocation. See page 20.

3 Diffidleness. Difficulty to he persuaded, * The Cardinal, finding the Pope
difficile in granting the dispensation.' — Bacon, Kewry VII,
^ Loading. Loaden ; burdened.

* See an account of Timon in Plutarch's Life of Mare Antony,
•Politics. Politicians, Seepage 21.

' Knee-timher. A timber cut in the shape of the knee when lent.

Essay xiii.] Annotations, 129

The parts and signs of goodness are many. If a man be
gracious and courteous to strangers^ it shows he is a citizen of
the world, and that his heart is no island cut off from other
lands, but a continent that joins to them, — if he be compas-
sionate towards the affliction of others, it shows that his heart
is like the noble tree that is wounded itself when it gives the
balm, — if he easily pardons and remits offences, it shows that
his mind is planted above injuries, so that he cannot be shot, —
if he be thankful for small benefits, it shows that he weighs
men's minds, and not their trash ; but, above all, if he have St.
Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be an anathema from
Christ,' for the salvation of his brethren, it shows much of a
divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ himself.

ANNOTATIONS.

' Goodness admits no excess, but error.*

Bacon is speaking of what is now called benevolence and
beneficence ; and his remark is very just, that it admits of no
excess in quantity, though it may be misdirected and erroneous.
For if your liberality be such as to reduce your family to
poverty, or — like the killing of the hen that laid the golden
eggs — such as to put it out of your power hereafter to be liberal
at all j or if it be bestowed on the undeserving ; this is rather
to be accounted an unwise and misdirected benevolence than
an excess of it in quantity. And we have here a remarkable
instance of the necessity of keeping the whole character and
conduct, even our most amiable propensities, under the control
of right principle guided by reason ; and of taking pains to un-
derstand the subject relating to each duty you are called on to
perform. Por there is perhaps no one quality that can produce
a greater amount of mischief than may be done by thoughtless
good-nature. For instance, if any one out of tenderness of

^ Homatu iz. 3.

130 Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii.

heart and reluctance to punish or to discard the criminal and
worthless, lets loose on society, or advances to important offices,
mischievous characters, he will have conferred a doubtful benefit
on a few, and done incalculable hurt to thousands. So, also,
to take one of the commonest and most obvious cases, that
of charity to the poor, — a man of great wealth, by freely
relieving all idle vagabonds, might go far towards ruining
the industry, and the morality, and the prosperity, of a whole
nation. ^ For there can be no doubt that careless, indiscri-
minate alms- giving does far more harm than good; since it
encourages idleness and improvidence, and also imposture. If
you give freely to ragged and filthy street-beggars, you are
in fact hirin/; people to dress themselves in filthy rags, and go
about begging with fictitious tales of distress. If, on the
contrary, you carefully inquire for, and relieve, honest and
industrious persons who have fallen into distress through un-
avoidable misfortune, you are not only doing good to those
objects, but also holding out an encouragement, generally, to
honest industry.

' You may, however, meet with persons who say, ' as long
as it is my intention to relieve real distress, my charity is
equally virtuous, though the tale told me may be a false one.
The impostor alone is to be blamed who told it me ; I jacted on
what he said ; and if that is untrue, the fault is his, and not
DMne.'

' Now this is a fair plea, if any one is deceived after making
careful inquiry : but if he has not taken the trouble to do this,
regarding it as no concern of his, you might ask him how he
would act and judge in a case where he is thoroughly in earnest
— ^that is, where his own interest is concerned. Suppose he
employed a steward or other agent, to buy for him a house, or
a horse, or any other article, and this agent paid an exorbitant
price for what was really worth little or nothing, giving just
tlie same kind of excuse for allowing his employer to be thus
cheated; saying, 'I made no careful inquiries, but took the
seller's word; and his being a liar and a cheat, is his fault, and
not mine/ the employer would doubtless reply, 'The seller
indeed is to be condemned for cheating ; but so are you, for
your carelessness of my interests. His being greatly in fault
does not clear you ; and your merely intending to do what was

Essaj xiii.] Annotations. 13 r

right, is no excuse for your not taking pains to gain right in-
formation/

* Now on such a principle we ought to act in our charities :
regarding ourselves as stewards of all that Providence lias
bestowed, and as bound to expend it in the best way possible,
and not shelter our own faulty negligence under the miscouduct
of another/'

It is now generally acknowledged that relief afforded to want,
as mere want, tends to increase that want; while the relief
afforded to the sick, the infirm, and the disabled, has plainly no
tendency to multiply its own objects. Now it is remarkable,
that the Lord Jesus employed his miraculous power in healing
the sick continually, but in feeding the hungry only twice;
while the power of multiplying food which He then manifested,
as well as his directing the disciples to take care and gatlicr up
the fragments that remained that nothing might be lost^ served
to mark that the abstaining from any like procedure on other
occasions was deliberate design. In this, besides other objects^
our Lord had probably in view to afford us some instruetion,
from his example, as to the mode of our charity. Certain it is,
that the reasons for this distinction are now, and ever must be,
the same as at that time. Now to those engaged in that im-
portant and inexhaustible subject of inquiry, the internal evi-
dences of Christianity, it will be interesting to observe here, one
of the instances in which the super-human wisdom of Jesus fore-
stalled the discovery of an important principle, often overlgoked^
not only by the generality of men, but by the most experienced
statesmen and the ablest philosophers, even in these later ages
of extended human knowledge, and development of mental power,

'// is good to take knowledge of the errors of a hubii m
excellent^

As there are errors in its direction, so there are mistakes
concerning its nature. For instance, some persons have a cer-
tain nervous hprror at the sight of bodily pain, or death, ox
blood, which they and others mistake for benevolence \ VThicli
may or may not accompany it. Phrenologists have been dei

^ See iMtrodMdory Letsom an Morals, Lesson xvi. p. T39..

K 2

J3Z Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii.

ricled for attributing lai^e destructiveness (which, however, is
not inconsistent with large benevolence, though more promi-
nently remarkable when not so combined) to a person who had
never killed anything but a flea, or to one who could not bear
to crush a wasp or fly that was keeping him awake all night ;
as if they had meant ' the organ of killing/ And yet such a
person would, according to their own accounts of their own
system, bear out their sentence, if he was harsh in admonishing
or rebuking, bitter in resentment, trampUng without pity on
the feelings and the claims of others, &c.

^Ve should not confound together physical delicacy of nerves,
and extreme tenderness of heart and benevolence and gentle-
nem of character. It is also important to guard against mis-
taking for good nature, what is properly good humour — a
cheerful flow of spirits, and easy temper not readily annoyed,
T^hich is compatible with great selfishness.

It is curious to observe how people who are always thinking
of their own pleasure or interest, will often, if possessing con-
siderable ability, make others give way to them, and obtain
evei^j'thing they seek, except happiness. For, like a spoiled
childj who at length cries for the moon, they are always dissa-
tisfied. And the benevolent, who are always thinking of others,
and sacrificing their own personal gratifications, are usually the
happiest of mankind. There is this great advantage also, that
the benevolent have over the selfish, as they grow old: the
latter, seeking only their own advantage, cannot escape the
painful feeling that any benefit they procure for themselves can
last but a short time; but one who has been always seeking
the good of others, has his interest kept up to the last, be-
cause he of course wishes that good may befed them after he is
gone,

' The Turks, a cruel people, are nevertheless kind to beasts*

In the article formerly mentioned, in the North British
Jttiiew (Aug. 1857), occurs a curious confirmation of Bacon's
remark. And I will accordingly take the liberty of extracting
the passage.

* The European cares nothing for brute life. He destroys
the bwer animals without scruple, whenever it suit* his con-

Essay xiii.] Annotations. 133

yenience, his pleasure, or his caprice. He shoots his favourite
horse and his favourite dog as soon as they become too old for
service. The Mussulman preserves the lives of the lower animals
soUcitously. Though he considers the dog impure, and never
makes a friend of him, he thinks it sinful to kill him, and
allows the neighbourhood and even the streets of his towns to
be infested by packs of masterless brutes, which you would get
rid of in London in one day. The beggar does not venture to
destroy his vermin: he puts them tenderly on the ground, to
be swept up into the clothes of the next passer-by. There are
hospitals in Cairo for superannuated cats, where they are fed at
the public expense.

' But to human life he is utterly indifferent. He extinguishes
it with much less scruple than that with which you shoot a horse
past his work. Abbas, the late Viceroy, when a boy, had Lis
pastry-cook bastinadoed to death. Mehemet Ali mildly reproved
him for it, as you would correct a child for killing a butterfly.
He explained to his little grandson that such things ought not
to be done without a motive.^

Bacon slightly hints at a truth most important to be kept
ip mind, that a considerable endowment of natural bene-
volence is not incompatible with cruelty; and that, consequently,
we must neither infer absence of all benevolence from such
conduct as would be called ferocious, or ' ill-natured,' nor again
calculate, from the existence of a certain amount of good nature,
on a man's never doing anything cruel.

When Thurtell, the murderer, was executed, there was a
shout of derision raised against the phrenologists for saying that
his oi^an of benevolence was large. But they replied, that there
was also large destructiveness, and a moral deficiency, which
would account for a man goaded to rage (by having been
cheated of almost all he had by the man he killed) committing
that act. It is a remarkable confirmation of their view, that a
gentleman who visited the prison where Thurtell was confined
(shortly after the execution) found the jailors, &c., full of pity
and affection for him. They said he was a kind, good-hearted
fellow, so obhging and friendly, that they had never had a pri-
soner whona they so much regretted. And such seems to have
been his general character, when not influenced at once by the
desire of revenge and of gain.

i

'^34 Q/* Goodness^ and Goodness of Nature. [Essay xiii,

Again^ there shall be^ perhaps^ a man of considerable bene«
Tolence^ but so fond of a joke that he will not be restrained by
any tenderness for the feelings of others —

' Dam modo risam
Ezcutiat nbi non hie caiqaam parcit amioo.'^

And he may be^ perhaps^ also so sensitive himself as to be
enraged at any censure or ridicule directed against himself; and
also so envious as to be very spiteful against those whom he
finds in any way advanced beyond him. Yet this same man
may, perhaps^ be very kind to his friends and his poor neigh-
bours^ as long as they are not rivals^ and do not at all affiront
him, nor afford any food for his insatiable love of ridicule.

A benevolent disposition is^ no doubt, a great help towards a
course of uniform practical benevolence ; but let no one trust to
it, when there are other strong propensities, and no firm good
principle.

^ * So he can but have his joke« he will spare no friend.'

ESSAY XIV. OF NOBILITY.

TT7E will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate^'
' ' then as a condition of particular persons. A monarcby
where there is no nobility at all, is ever a pure and absolute
tyranny, as that of the Turks; for nobility attempers sove-
reignty, and draws the eyes of the people somewhat aside from
the line royal : but for democracies, they need it not, and they
are commonly more quiet, and less subject to sedition thnu
where there are stirps' of nobles — for men's eyes are upon the
business, and not upon the persons ; or, if upon the persona, it
is for the business^ sake, as fittest, and not for flags and pedigree*
We see the Switzers last well, notwithstanding their diversity
of religion and of cantons ; for utility is their bond, and not
respects.' The United Provinces of the Low Countries in their
government excel ; for where there is an equality, the consulta-
tions are more indifierent,* and the payments and tributes more
cheerful. A great and potent nobility addeth majesty to a
monarch, but diminisheth power; and putteth life and spirit
into the people, but presseth their fortune. It is well %\ hen
nobles %re not too great for sovereignty, nor for justice; and
yet maintained in that height, as the insolency* of infcniors
may be broken upon them before it come on too fast upon the
majesty of kings. A numerous nobility causeth poverty and
inconvenience in a State ; for it is a surcharge of expense ; and
besides, it being of necessity that many of the nobility full ia
time to be weak in fortime, it maketh a kind of disprojiortioTi
between honour and means.

As for nobility in particular persons, it is a reverend thing
to see an ancient castle or building not in decay, or to see a
fair timber tree sound and perfect ; how much more to behold
an ancient noble family, which hath stood against the waves

' Estate. SliUe ; a political body ; a oommowoeaUh,

* The estate is g^een and yet ungovemed.* — Shahespere,

' Stirpa. S^ce ; family, * Sundry nations got footing on that land^ of tho
which there yet remain divers g^reat families and stirps* — Spenser,

' Respects. Personal considerations. See page to8*

^ Indifierent. Impartial, See page 74.

* Insolency. Insolence, * The insolencies of traitors, and the violences of s-sheli.'
— JBi*Aop Taylor.

136 Of Nobility. pissay xiv.

•
and weathers of time! — for new nobility is but the act of power,

but ancient nobility is the act of time. Those that are first
raised to nobility, are commonly more virtuous, but less inno-
cent, than their descendants — for there is rarely any rising but
by a commixture of good and evil arts, — ^but it is reason^ the
memory of their virtues remain to their posterity, and their
feults die with themselves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth
industry ; and he that is not industrious, envieth him that is :
besides, noble persons cannot go much higher; and he that
standeth at a stay' when others rise, can hardly avoid motions'
of envy. On the other side, nobility extinguisheth the passive
envy from others towards them, because they are in possession
of honour. Certainly, kings that have able men of their nobility
shall find ease in employing them, and a better slide into their
business ; for people naturally bend to them as bom in some
sort to command.

ANTITHETA ON NOBILITY,
Pro. Contba.

• • • • * Raro ex virtute nobilitaa : rariuB ex
' Nobilitas laurea, qua temptu homines nobilitate virtoB.

ooronat. * NobUily hat seldom sprung from

* Migh birth is the wreath with which virtue : virtue still more rarelg from
men are crowned bg time,* nobUitg*

* Antiquitatem etiam in mortuis mo- ' Nobiles majorum depreAtione, ad
nnmentu veneramur: quanto magis in veniam, sffipius utiintur, quam suiSra-
▼ivis P gatione, ad honores.

* We reverence antiquity even in life' * Persons of high birth oflener resort
less monuments ; how much move in liv- to their ancestors as a means of escaping
ing ones V punishment than as a recommendation

• • • • tohighposU:

* Nobilitaa virtatem iuvidisB subducit,

graties tradit. ' Tanta aolet esse indnstria hominnm

* Nobility withdraws virtue from ewvg, novorum, ut nobiles pne illis tanquam
and commends it to favour* status videantur.

' Such is the activitg of upstarts that
men of high birth seem statues in com^
parison*

'Nobiles in stadio respectont nimis
8»pe; quod mali cursoris eat.

* Inrunning their race^ men of birth
look back too often / which is the mark
of a bad runner.*

^ Reason. Xteasonahle; right. See page lOg.

* Stay. Check; cessation of progress. See page 125.

^ Motions. Internal action ; feelings s impulses, 'The motions of fin, which
were by the law.* — Romans viL 5.

Essay xiv.] Annotations. 137

9

ANNOTATIONS.

' fFe will speak of nobility first as a portion of an estate/

In reference to nobility as an institution, it is importaut to
remark bow great a difference it makes whetber tbe ortlcr of
nobles sball include — as in Germany and most otber countries
— all tbe descendants of noble families, or, as in ours, only the
eldest; tbe rest sinking down into commoners. Tbe former
system is very bad, dividing society into distinct castes, r J most
bke those of the Hindus. Our system, through the numerous
younger branches of noble families, shades off, as it were, the
distinction between noble and not-noble, and keeps up the con-
tinuity of the whole frame.

' As for nobility in particular persons,^

In reference to nobility in individuals, nothing was ever
better said than by Bishop Warburton — as is reported — in the
House of Lords, on the occasion of some angry dispute which
had arisen between a peer of noble family and one of a new
creation. He said that, ' high birth was a thing which he never
knew any one disparage, except those who had it not ; and he
never knew any one make a boast of it who had anything else
to be proud of. This is worthy of a place among Bacon's * Pros
and Cons/ though standing half-way between the two : * Nobili-
tatem nemo contemnit, nisi cui abest ; nemo jactitat, nbi eui
nihil aliud est quo glorietur.^

It is curious to observe, however, that a man of high fumily
will often look down on an upstart who is exactly such a ix.n'soii
in point of merit and achievements as the very founder of liis own
&mily ; — ^the one from whom his nobility is derived : as if it
were more creditable to be the remote descendant of an emiucot
man, than to be that very man oneself.

It is also a remarkable circumstance that noble birth is re-
garded very much according to the etymology of the word, from
* nosco :' for, a man's descent from any one who was much
known, is much more thought of than the moral worth of his

138 Of Nobility. [Essay xiv.

«

ancestors. And it is curious that a person of so exceptionable

a character that no one would like to have had him for a father ^
may confer a kind of dignity on his great-great-great-grand-
children. An instance has been known of persons, who were
the descendants of a celebrated and prominent character in the
Civil War, and who was one of the Regicides, being themselves
zealous royalists, and professing to be ashamed of their ancestor.
And it is likely that if he were now living, they would renounce
all intercourse with him. Yet it may be doubted whether they
would not feel mortified if any one should prove to them that
they had been under a mistake, and that they were in reality
descended from another person, a respectable but obscure indi-
vidual, not at all akin to the celebrated regicide.

It was a remark by a celebrated man, himself a gentleman
born, but with nothing of nobility, that the diflTerence between
a man with a long line of noble ancestors, and an upstart, is
that ' the one knows for certain, what the other only conjectures
as highly probable, that several of his forefathers deserved
hanging.' Yet it is certain, though strange, that, generaDy
speaking, the supposed upstart would rather have this very
thing a certainty — provided there were some great and cele*
brated exploit in question — than left to conjecture. If he were
to discover that he could trace up his descent distinctly to a
man who had deserved hanging, for robbing — not a traveller of
his purse, but a king of his empire, or a neighbouring State of
a province, — ^he would be likely to make no secret of it, and
even to be better pleased, inwardly, than if he had made out a
long line of ancestors who had been very honest farmers.

The happiest lot for a man, as far as birth is concerned, is
that it should be such as to give him but little occasion ever to
think much about it ; which will be the case, if it be neither too
high nor too low for his existing situation. Those who have
sunk much below, or risen much above, what suits their birth,
are apt to be uneasy, and consequently touchy. The one feels
ashamed of his situation ; the other, of his ancestors and other
relatives. A nobleman's or gentleman's son, or grandson, feels
degraded by waiting at table, or behind a counter; and a
member of a liberal profession is apt to be ashamed of his
father's having done so ; and both are apt to take oflfence readily,
unless they are of a truly magnanimous character. It was

Essay xi v.] Annotations. 139

remarked by a celebrated person, a man of a gentleman^s family,
and himself a gentleman by station, ' I have often thought that
if I had risen like A. B., from the very lowest of the people,
by my own honourable exertions, T should have rather felt
proud of so great a feat, than, like him, sore and touchy ; but I
suppose I must be mistaken ; for I observe that the far greater
part of those who are so circumstanced, have just the opposite
feeling/

The characters, however, of true inward nobility are ashamed
of nothing but base conduct, and are not ready to take o£fence
at supposed afironts; because they keep clear of whatever
deserves contempt, and consider what is undeserved as beneath -
their notice.

ESSAY XV. OF SEDITIONS AND TROUBLES.

SHEPHERDS of people had need know the calendars of
tempests in State, which are commonly greatest when things
grow to equality, as natural tempests about the equinoctia ;^ and
as there are certain hollow blasts of wind and secret swellings
of seas before a tempest, so are there in States : —

' nie etiam csboob instare tumultus
Sepe monet, fraudesque et operta tumescere bella/ *

Libels and licentious discourses against the State, when they
are frequent and open ; and in like sort, false news often running
up and down to the disadvantage of the State, and hastily em-
braced, are amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving the
pedigree of fame, saith, she was sister to the giants : —

' Illam terra parens, ira irritata deornm,
Extremam (ut perhibent) Coso Enc^ladoqae sororem
Progenuit."

As if fames^ were the relics of seditions past ; but they are no
less indeed the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever, he
noted it right, that seditious tumults and seditious fames differ
no more but as brother and sister, masculine and feminine —
especially if it come to that, that the best actions of a State,
and the most plausible,* and which ought to give greatest
contentment, are taken in ill sense, and traduced; for that
shows the envy great, as Tacitus saith, ' Conflata magna invidia,
seu bene, seu male, gesta premunt/* Neither doth it follow,
that because these fames are a sign of troubles, that the sup-
pressing of them *with too much severity should be a remedy

^ Equinoctia. Equinoxes.

^ < He often warns of dark fast-coming tumults, hidden fraud, and open warfiire,
swelling proud.' — Virgil, Oeorg, i. 4^5.
' Virg. En, iv. 179.

' Enraged against the Gods, revengeful Earth
Produced her, last of the Titanian birth.' — JDryden,
^ Fames. Meports ; rumours, ' The fame thereof was heard in Pharaoh's
house, saying, Joseph's brethren are come.' — Genesis xW, 16.

* Phiusible. LaudalUf deserving of applause. See page 95.

• * Great envy being excited, they condemn acts, whether good or bad.* (Quoted
probably from memory.) — Tac. Hist, i. 7.

Essay xv.] Of Seditions and Trotibles. 141

of troubles ;' for the despising of them many times checks
them best^ and the going about to stop them doth but make a
wonder long-lived. Also that kind of obedience^ which Tacitus
speaketh of, is to be held suspected: 'Errant in ofiicio, sed
tamen qui mallent mandata imperantium interpretari, quam
exequi;^ disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates and
directions, is a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay' of dis-
obedience : especially if in those disputings they which are for
the direction speak fearfully and tenderly, and those that are
against it, audaciously.

Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, that ought to
be common^ parents, make themselves as a party, and lean to a
side, that is, as a boat that is overthrown by imeven weight on
the one side — as was weU seen in the time of Henry III. of
France ; for, first himself entered league for the extirpation of
the Protestants, and presently after the same league was turned
upon himself; for when the authority of princes is made but
an accessory to a cause, and that there be other bands that tie
faster than the band of sovereignty, kings begin to be put
almost out of possession. /

Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions, are carried
openly and audaciously ; it is a sign the reverence of govern-
ment is lost; for the motions of the greatest persons in a
government ought to be as the motions of the planets under
primum' mobile (according to the old opinion), which is, that
every of them* is carried swiftly by the highest motion, and
softly in their own motion ; and, therefore, when great ones in
their own particular motion move violently, and, as Tacitus ex-
presseth it well, ^Liberius quam ut imperantium meminissent'^ —

^ There is a law in our Statute Book against ' Slanderous Eoports and Tales to
eause Discord between King and People.' — ^Anno 5 Edward I., Westminster
PHmer, c. xxxi.

3 < They were in attendance on their duties, yet preferred putting their own con-
stmction oo the commands of their rulers to executing them.' — ^Tadt. Hist. i. 39.

* Assay. The first attempt, or taste, hy way of trial.

' For well he weened that so glorious bait
Would tempt his guest to make thereof assay* — Spenser.

* Commoii* Serving for all. * The Book of Cofnmon Prayer,*

' Primum mobile, in the astronomical language of Bacon's time, meant a body
drawing all others into its own sphere.

* Eyery of them. Each of them ; every one of them. * And it came to pass in
every of them J — Apocrypha, 2 Esdras iii. 10.

7 * More freely thm is consistent with remembering the rulers.'

14a Of Seditions and TVoubles. [Essay xv#

it is a sign the orbs are out of frame; for reverence is tliat
wherewith princes are girt from God^ who threateneth the dis-
solving thereof; ' Solvam cingula regum/*

So when any of the four pillars of government are mainly
shaken, or weakened (which are religion^ justice, counsel, and
treasure), men had need to pray for fair weather. But let us
pass from this part of predictions (concerning which, neverthe-
less, more light might be taken from that which folio weth), and
let us speak first of the materials of seditions, then of the
motives of them, and thirdly of the remedies.

Concerning the materials of seditions, it is a thing well to be
considered — ^for the surest way to* prevent seditions (if the times
do bear it), is to take away the matter of them ; for if there
be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell whence the spark shall come
that shall set it on fire. The matter of seditions is of two
kinds, much poverty, and much discontentment. It is certain,
so many overthrown estates, so many votes for troubles. Lucan
noteth well the state of Borne before the civil war : —

> , ,. ' Hinc iisara yorax, rapidmnqoe in tempore foenus^

Hinc ooncuflsa fides, et multis utile belluin.'^

This same ' multis utile bellum,' is an assured and infallible
sign of a State disposed to seditions and troubles ; and if this
poverty and broken estate* in the better sort be joined with a
want and necessity in the mean people, the danger is imminent
and great — for the rebellions of the belly are the worst. As
for discontentments, they are in the politic body like to humours
in the natural, which are apt to gather a preternatural heat, and
to inflame ; and let no prince measure the danger of them by
this, whether they be just or unjust— for that were to imagine
people to be too reasonable, who do often spurn at their own
good, — ^nor yet by this, whether the griefs^ whereupon they rise
be in fact great or small ; for they are the most dangeroua
discontentments, where the fear is greater than the feeling 7

^ * I will loose the bond of kings.' — Job xiL 18.

' ' Hence nsuzy voradous, and eager for the time of interest ; henoe broken fidth^
and war become nsefol to many.' — Lucan, Fhars, i. 181.

' Estate. CondiHon; cireunutanees. * All who are any ways afflicted or dis-
tressed in mind, body, or estate.* — EngUeh Liturgy (Prayer for all CondUiom of
Men).

* Griefii. Qrievancee.

* The king has sent to know the Sfttnre of your grieft^'^Shakeipert.

Essay xv.] Of Seditions and Troubles. J4J

' Dolendi modus^ timendi non item'' — ^besides^ in great oppres-*
sions^ the same things that provoke the patience do nt^itlial
mate' the courage ; but in fears it is not so — neither let any
prince, or State, be secure concerning discontentments, because
they have been often, or have been long, and yet no peril hath
ensued — for as it is true that every vapour or fume' doth not
turn into a storm, so it is nevertheless true, that storms, though
they blow over divers times, yet may fall at last ; and, as the
Spanish proverb noteth well, ^ The cord breaketh at the last by
the weakest pull/

The causes and motives of seditions are, innovations in reli^
gion, taxes, alteration of laws and customs, breaking of privi-
leges, general oppression, advancement of unworthy persons,
strangers, deaths, disbanded soldiers, factions grown desperate 1
and whatsoever in offending people joineth and knitteth them
in a common cause.

For the remedies, there may be some general preservatives,
whereof we will speak : as for the just cure, it must answer to
the particular disease, and so be left to counsel rather than rule.
The first remedy or prevention, is to remove, by all means
possible, that material cause of sedition whereof we speak, which
is, want and poverty in the estate :* to which purpose servctli
the opening and well-balancing of trade; the cherishing of
manufactures; the banishing of idleness; the repressing of
waste and excess by sumptuary laws; the improvement and
husbanding of the soil ; the regulating of prices of things ven-
dible ; the moderating of taxes and tributes ; and the like.
Generally, it is to be foreseen that the population of a kingdom
(especially if it be not mown down by wars), do not exceed the
stock of the kingdom which should maintain them : neither is
the population to be reckoned only by number, for a smaller
number^ that spend more and earn* less, do wear out an estate
sooner than a greater number that live low and gather more :
therefore the multiplying of nobility, and other degrees of
quality,* in an over-proportion to the common people, doth

' ' There is a limit to the Buffering, hnt none to the apprehension.'
* M«te. To subdue; to quell. See page 14.
3 Fame. ^^ exhalation,

« That memory^ the warden of the hrain, shtiU he tL/ume/'^Shakespere.
^ Estate. SUUe, See page 135.
' Quality, ^ersont of tu^erior rank. * I mH appear at the masquerade dres3c4

144 Q/* Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv.

speedily bring a State to necessity; and so doth likewise an
overgrown clergy, for they bring nothing to the stock; and
in like manner, when more are bred scholars than preferments
can take off.

It is likewise to be remembered, that, forasmuch as the in-
crease of any estate must be upon the foreigner (for whatsoever
is somewhere gotten, is somewhere lost), there be but three
things which one nation selleth unto another — ^the commodity
as nature yieldeth it, the manufacture, and the vecture, or car-
riage : so that, if these three wheels go, wealth will flow as in
a spring tide. And it cometh many times to pass, that ' mate-
riam superabit opus' — ^that * the work and carriage is worth
more than the material,' and enricheth a State more ; as is
notably seen in the Low Countrymen, who have the best mines
above ground in the world.

Above all things, good policy is to be used, that the treasures
and monies in a State be not gathered into few hands; for
otherwise, a State may have a great stock, and yet starve ; and
money is like muck, not good except it be spread. This is
done chiefly by suppressing, or, at the least, keeping a strait
hand upon the devouring trades of usury, engrossing^ great
pasturages and the like.

For removing discontentments, or, at least, the danger of
them, there is in every State (as we know), two portions of
subjects, the nobles and the commonalty. When one of these
is discontent, the danger is not great ; for common people are of
slow motion, if they be not excited by the greater sort ; and
the greater sort are of small strength, except the multitude be
apt and ready to move of themselves : then is the danger, when
the greater sort do but wait for the troubling of the waters

in my feather, that the quality may see how pretty they will look in their travel-
ling hahits.' — Addison,

The common people still speak of the npper classes as ' the qwMy* It is to be
observed that almost all our titles of respect are terms denoting qualities. ' Her
Majesty/ 'his Highness/ 'his Excellency/ 'his Grace,' 'the Most Noble,' 'the
Honourable,' 'his Honour/ 'his Worship/

^ Engrossing. ForettcdUng, ' Engrotting was also described to be the getting
into one's possession, or buying up large quantities of any kind of victuals, with
intent to sell them again/ — Blackstone.

' VHiat should ye do, then, should ye suppress all this flowery crop of knowledge,
and new light sprung up ? Should ye set an oligarchy of twenty engro9ter9 over
it, to bring a famine upon our minds V'^Milion,

Essay xv.] Of Seditions and Troubles. 145

amongst the meaner, that then they may declare themselves.
The poets feign that the rest of the gods would have bound
Jupiter, which he hearing of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for
Briareus, with his hundred hands, to come in to his aid^ — an
emblem, no doubt, to show how safe it is for monarchs to make
sure of the good- will of common people.

To give moderate liberty for griefs and discontentments to
evaporate (so it be without too great insolency or bravery^, is
a safe way ; for he that tumeth the humours back, and maketh
the wound bleed inwards, endangereth malign ulcers and per-
nicious imposthumations.

The part of Epimetheus might well become Prometheus, in
the case of discontentments ; for there is not a better provision
against them. Epimetheus, when griefs and evils flew abroad,
at last shut the lid, and kept hope in the bottom of the vessel.
Certainly, the politic and artificial nourishing and entertaining
of hopes, and carrying men from hopes to hopes, is one of the
best antidotes against the poison of discontentments : and it is
a certain sign of a wise government and proceeding, when it
can hold men^s hearts by hopes, when it cannot by satisfaction ;
and when it can handle things in such manner as no evil shall
appear so peremptory but that it hath some outlet of hope :
which is the less hard to do, because both particular persons
and factions are apt enough to flatter themselves, or, at least, to
brave* that which they believe not.

Also the foresight and prevention, that there be no likely or
fit head whereupon discontented persons may resort, and under
whom they may join, is a known, but an excellent point of
caution. I imderstand a fit head to be one that hath greatness
and reputation, that hath confidence with the discontented party,
and upon whom they turn their eyes, and that is thought dis-
contented in his own particular ; which kind of persons are
either to be won and reconciled to the State, and that is a fast
and true manner, or to be fronted with some other of the same
party that may oppose them, and so divide the reputation.
Generally^ the dividing and breaking of all factions and com-
binations that are adverse to the State, and setting them at

> Hoxn. J^' i. 398. * Bravery. See page 106.

> Bmve. ^ boast of.

I4<S Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv.

distance/ or, at least, distrust among themselves, is not one of
the worst remedies ; for it is a desperate case, if those that hold
with the proceeding of the State be full of discord and faction,
and those that are against it be entire and united.

I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, which
have fallen from princes, have given fire to seditions. Caesar
did himself infinite hurt in that speech, ' Sylla nescivit literas,
non potuit dictare;'* for it did utterly cut off that hope which
men had entertained, that he would at one time or other give
over his dictatorship. Galba undid himself by that speech,
' Legi a se militem, non emi ;'* for it put the soldiers out of
hope of the donative. Probus, likewise, by that speech, ' Si
vixero, non opus erit amplius Bomano imperio militibus;'^ a
speech of great despair for the soldiers ; and many the like.
Surely princes had need, in tender matter and ticklish times, to
beware what they say, especially in these short speeches, which
fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot out of their
secret intentions ; for, as for large discourses, they are flat things,
and not so much noted.

Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some
great person, one or rather more, of military valour, near unto
them, for the repressing of seditions in their beginnings ; for,
without that, there useth to be more trepidation in court upon
the first breaking out of trouble than were fit ; and the State
runneth the danger of that which Tacitus saith — 'Atque is
habitus animorum fiiit, ut pessimum facinus auderent paud,
plures vellent, omnes paterentur ;" but let such military per-
sons be assured^ and well reputed of, rather than factious and

1 Distance. JSnmity.

* Banqno was yoar enemy.
So is he mine ; and in sucli bloody distance,
That every minute of his being throsts
Against my nearest of life.' — Shakespere,
* < SyHa was ignorant of letters, and could not diciate,' (This pun is attributed
to Cassar by Suetonius.) — VU. C. Jul. Ccbs. 77, 1.

' ' He levied soldiers, and did not buy them/ — Tac. Sitt, i. 5.
^ ' If I live, the Roman Empire will need no more soldiers.' — ^Flav. Yes. Vii,
Trob. 20.

^ * And such was the state of their minds, that the worst viUany a few dared,
more approved of it, and aU tolerated it.' — Hist. i. 28.

' Assured. Not to he doubted ; trust-worthy, * It is an assured experience,
that flint Uiid at the root of a tree will make it prosper.'— Bacon's Natural
Mistory.

Essay xy.] Annotations. 147

popular — ^holding also good correspondence with the other
great men in the State^ or else the remedy is worse than the

ANNOTATIONS.

' Neither lei any prince or State be secure concerning discontent-
ments, because they have been often, or have been long, and
yet no peril hath enstied. • . . .'

Men nnderrate the danger of any evil that has been escaped.
An evil is not necessarily unreal, because it has been often
feared without just cause. The wolf does sometimes enter in,
and make havoc of the flock, though there have been many fsdse
alarms. The consequence of feeling too secure, and not being
prepared, may be most disastrous when the emergency does
arise. And the existence of a power to meet the emergency is
not the less important because the occasions for the exercise of
it may be very few. If any one should be so wearied with the
monotonous 'All's well' of the nightly guardians of a camp,
hour after hour, and night after night, as to conclude that their
service was superfluous, and, accordingly, to dismiss them, how
much real danger, and how much unnecessary apprehension,
would be the result.

* Let no prince measure the danger of discontentments by this

whether the griefs whereupon they rise be great or

gmalL .....'

The importance of this caution with regard to ' smiall griefs'
will not be denied by any one who has observed the odd
Ihmtations of power in those who seem despotic, and yet cannot
do what seem JUtle things. E.g., when the Romans took posses-
sion of Egypt, the people submitted, without the least resistance,
to have their lives and property at the mercy of a foreign
nation : but one of the Roman soldiers happening to kill a cat
in the streets of Alexandria, they rose on him and tore him
hmb from limb ; and the excitement was so violent, that the

148 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv.

generals overlooked the outrage for fear of insurrection ! —
Claudius Csesar tried to introduce a letter which was wanting
in the Roman Alphabet — ^the consonant V as distinct from U, —
they having but one character for both. He ordered that ^j
(an F reversed) should be that character. It appears on some
inscriptions in his time ; but he could not establish it^ though
he could KILL or plunder his subjects at pleasure. So can the
Emperor of Russia ; but he cannot change the style. It would
displace the days of saints whom his people worship, and it
would produce a formidable insurrection ! Other instances of
this strange kind of anomaly might doubtless be produced.

' The causes and motives of seditions are • . . .'

Amongst the causes of sedition Bacon has not noticed what
is, perhaps, the source of the most dangerous kinds of sedition,
the keeping of a certain portion of the population in a state of
helotism, — as subjects without being citizens, or only imper-
fectly and partially citizens. For men will better submit to an
undistinguishing despotism that bears down all classes alike,
than to an invidious distinction drawn between privileged and
subject classes.

On this point I will take the liberty of citing a passage from
a former work : —

' The exclusion from the rights of citizenship of all except a
certain favoured class — which was the system of the Grecian
and other ancient republics — ^has been vindicated by their ex-
ample, and recommended for general adoption, by some writers,
who have proposed to make sameness of religion correspond in
modem States to the sameness of race among the ancients, — ^to
substitute for their hereditary citizenship the profession of
Christianity in one and the same National Church.

' But attentive and candid reflection will show that this
would be the worst possible imitation of one of the worst of the
Pagan institutions ; that it would be not only still more unwise
than the unwise example proposed, but also even more opposite
to the spirit of the christian religion than to the maxims of
sound policy.

' Of the system itself, under various modifications, and of ita
effects, under a variety of circumstances, we find abundant re*

"JSssBj XV.] Annotations, 149

cords throughout a large portion of history, ancient and modem ;
from that of the Israelites when sojourners in Egypt, down to
that of the Turkish Empire and its Greek and other christian
subjects. And in those celebrated ancient republics of which
we have such copious accounts in the classic writers, it is well
known that a man's being bom of firee parents within the
territory of a certain State, had nothing to do with conferring
civil rights ; while his contributing towards the expenses of its
government, was rather considered as the badge of an alien,*
the imposing of a tax on the citizens being mentioned by Cicero'
as something calamitous and disgraceful, and not to be thought
of but in some extraordinary emergency.

' Nor were the proportionate numbers at all taken into ac-
count. In Attica, the metoeci or sojourners appear to have
constituted about a third of the free population ; but the helots
in Lacedsemon, and the subjects of the Carthaginian and Roman
Bepublics, outnumbered the citizens, in the proportion probably
of five, and sometimes of ten or twenty to one. Nor again
were alien families considered as such in reference to a more
recent settlement in the territory ; on the contrary, they were
often the ancient occupiers of the soil, who had been subdued
by another race ; as the Siculi (from whom Sicily derived its
name}, by the Siceliots or Greek colonists.

' The system in question has been explained and justified on
the ground that distinctions of race implied important religious
and moral differences ; such that the admixture of men thus
difieriug in the main points of human life, would have tended,
unless one race had a complete ascendancy, to confuse all no-
tions of right and wrong. And the principle, accordingly, of
the ancient repablics, — ^which has been thence commended as
wise and good — ^has been represented as that of making agree-
ment in religion and morals the test of citizenship.

' That this however was not, at least in many instances, even
the professed principle, is undeniable. The Lacedaemonians
reduced to helotism the Messenians, who were of Doric race,
like themselves ; while it appears from the best authorities, that
the kings of those very Lacedaemonians were of a different race
from the people, being not of Dorian, but of Achaian extrac-

1 Mail. xvii. 25. ' De Off. b. 1 1, cli. xxL

150 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv.

tion.* There could not have been therefore, at least universally,
any such total incompatibility between the moral institutions and
principles of the diflFerent races. The vindication, therefore, of
the system utterly fails, even on the very grounds assumed by
its advocates.

' If, however, in any instance such an incompatibility did
exist, or (what is far more probable) such a mutual dislike and
jealousy, originating in a narrow spirit of clanship — as to render
apparently hopeless the complete amalgamation of two tribes as
fellow-citizens on equal terms, the wisest — the only wise — course
would have been an entire separation. Whether the one tribe
migrated in a mass to settle elsewhere, or the territory were
divided between the two, so as to form distinct independent
States, — in either mode, it would have been better for both
parties, than that one should remain tributary subjects of the
other. Even the expulsion of the Moors and Jews from Spain,
was not, I am convinced, so great an evil, as it would have been
to retain them as a degraded and tributary class ; like the Greek
subjects of the Turkish empire.

* For, if there be any one truth which the deductions of
reason alone, independent of history, would lead us to antici^
pate, and which again history alone would establish indepen-
dently of antecedent reasoning, it is this : that a whole class of
men placed permanently under the ascendancy of another as
subjects, without the rights of citizens, must be a source, at the
best, of weakness, and generally of danger, to the State. They
cannot well be expected, and have rarely been found, to evince
much hearty patriotic feeling towards a community in which
their neighbours looked down on them as an inferior and per*
manently degraded species. While kept in brutish ignorance,
poverty, and weakness, they are likely to feel — ^like the ass in
the fable — indifferent whose panniers they bear. If they
increase in power, wealth, and mental development, they are
likely to be ever on the watch for an opportunity of shaking oflF
a degrading yoke. Even a complete general despotism, weigh-
ing down all classes without exception, is, in general, far more

^ It is very remarkable that this fact has been adverted to, and prominently set
forth by an author who, in the vertf same work, maintains the impossibility of
different races being amalgamated together in the same oommnnity. He appears
to have quite foigotten that he had completely disproved his own theory.

Essay xv.] Annotations. 15 1

readily borne, than invidious distinctions drawn between a
fevoured and a depressed race of subjects; for men feel an
vMult more than a mischief done to them ;^ and feel no insult
so much as one daily and hourly inflicted by their immediate
neighbours. A Persian subject of the Great King had probably
no greater share of civil rights than a helot; but he was likely to
be less galled by his depression, from being surrounded by those
who, though some of them possessed power and dignity, as com-
pared with himself, yet were equally destitute of civil rights,
and abject slaves, in common with him, of the one great despot.
' It is notorious, accordingly, how much Sparta was weakened
and endangered by the helots, always ready to avail themselves
of any public disaster as an occasion for revolt. The frightful
expedient was resorted to of thinning their numb^s from time
to time by an organized system of massacre; yet, though a
great part of the territory held by Lacedsemon was left a desert^^
security could not be purchased, even at this price.

* We find Hannibal, again, maintaining himself for sixteen
years in Italy against the Romans; and though scantily sup-
phed from Carthage, recruiting his ranks, and maintaining his
positions, by the aid of subjects of the Romans. Indeed, almost
every page of history teaches the same lesson, and proclaims in
every different form, ' How long shall these men be a snare
unto us ? Let the people go, that they may serve their God :
knowest thou not yet that Egypt is destroyed ?^' * The remnant
of these nations which thou shalt not drive out, shall be pricks
in thine eyes, and thorns in thy side.'*

* But beside the other causes which have always operated
to perpetuate, in spite of experience^ so impolitic a system, the
difficulty of changing it, when once established, is one of the
greatest. The false step is one which it is peculiarly difficult
to retrace. Men long debarred from civil rights, almost
always become ill-fitted to enjoy them. The brutalizing effects
of oppression, which cannot immediately be done away by its
removal, at once furnish a {M'etext for justiiying it^ and make
relief hazardous. Kind and liberal treatment, if very cautiously

^ 'AitKovfUvoi, MC iouciv, ci dvOptairot ftoXXov dpyiZovrai^ ij fiiaKofUvoi.-
DMcyd. b. L § 77.

* lliacyd. b. ir. • Ihrodw x. 7. * Numberg zzziii. 55.

1^2 Of Seditions and Troubles. [Essay xv.

and judiciously bestowed, will gradually and slowly advance men
towards the condition of being worthy of such treatment ; but
treat men as aliens or enemies — as slaves, as children, or as brutes,
and they will speedily and completely justify your conduct/ ^

' To which purpose {the removing of sedition) serveth

the repressing of waste and excess by sumptuary laws
. ... the regulating of prices of things vendible '

Bacon here falls into the error which always prevails in the
earlier stages of civilization, and which accordingly was more
prevalent in his age than in ours — that* of over-governing.

It may be reckoned a kind of puerility: for you will generally
• find young persons prone to it, and also those legislators who
lived in the younger {i.e., the earlier) ages of the world. They
naturally wish to enforce by law everything that they consider
to be good, and forcibly to prevent men from doing anything
that is unadvisable. And the amount of mischief is incal-
culable that has been caused by this meddlesome kind of
legislation. For not only have such legislators been, as often
as not, mistaken, as to what really is beneficial or hurtful, but
also when they have been right in their judgment on that point,
they have often done more harm than good by attempting to
enforce by law what had better be left to each man^s own
discretion.

As an example of the first kind of error, may be taken the
many eflForts made by the legislators of various countries to
restrict foreign commerce, on the supposition that it would
be advantageous to supply all our wants ourselves, and that we
must be losers by purchasing anything from abroad. If a
weaver were to spend half his time in attempting to make
shoes and furniture for himself, or a shoemaker to neglect his
trade while endeavouring to raise com for his own cqnsumption,
they would be guilty of no greater folly than has often been^
and in many instances still is, forced on many nations by
their governments; which have endeavoured to withdraw from
agriculture to manufactures a people possessing abundance of

^ Ussay on tome of the Dangere to the Christian Faith. 2nd edition, note F.
pp. 212-217.

Essay xv.] Annotations. 153

fertile land, or who have forced them to the home cultivation
of snch articles as their soil and climate are not suited to, and
thus compelled them to supply themselves with an inferior
commodity at a greater cost.

On the other hand, there is no doubt that early hours are
healthful^ and that men ought not to squander their money on
luxurious feasts and costly dress^ unsuited to their means ; but
when governments thereupon undertook to prescribe the hours
at which men should go to rest, requiring them to put out
their lights at the sound of the curfew-bell^ and enacted
sumptuary laws as to the garments they were to wear, and the
dishes of .meat they were to have at their tables, this meddling
kind of legislation was always found excessively galling, and
moreover entirely ineffectual ; since men^s dislike to such laws
always produced contrivances for evading the spirit of them.

Bacon, however, was far from always seeing his way rightly
in these questions ; which is certainly not to be wondered at,
considering that we, who live three centuries later, have only
just emerged from thick darkness into twilight, and are far from
having yet completely thrown off those erroneous notions of
our forefathers. The regulating of prices by law still existed,
in the memory of most of us, with respect to bread — ^and the
error of legislating against engrossing of commodities has only
very lately been exploded.

Many restrictions, of various kinds, have been maintained
by persons who probably would not themselves have introduced
them, but who have an over-dread of innovation ; urging that
the burden of proof lies on those who advocate any change ;
the presumption being on the side of leaving things unaltered.
And as a general rule this is true. But in the case of any
restriction^ the presumption is the other way. For since no
restriction is a good in itself, the burden of proof lies on those
who would either introduce or continue it,

* fVTiatsoever is somewhere gotten is somewhere lost J

This error — ^and it is a very hurtful one^ — ^was not exploded
till long after Bacon's time. The following extract from the
Annual Register for 1779, (Appendix, p. 114,) may serve to
show what absurd notions on political economy were afloat
even in the memory of persons now living. The extract is

154 Of Seditions and Troubles, [Easay xv.

from a ' Plan by Dr. Franklin and Mr. Dalrymple for benefiting
distant Countries.'

^ Fair commerce is, where equal values are exchanged for
equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it costs A
in England as much labour and chaise to raise a bushel of
wheat, as it costs B in France to produce four gallons of wine,
then are four gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushel of
wheat, A and B meeting at half distance with their commodities
to make the exchange. The advantage of this fair commerce
is, that each party increases the number of his enjoyments,*
having, instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, the use of both
wheat and wine.

^ Where the labour and expense of producing both com-
modities are known to both parties, bargains will generally be
fair and equal. Where they are known to one party only,
bargains will often be unequal, — knowledge taking its advan-
tage of ignorance.

^ Thus, he that carries a thousand bushels of wheat abroad to
sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit thereon as if he
had first turned the wheat into manufactures, by subsisting
therewith the workmen while producing those manufactures.
Since there are many expediting and facilitating methods of
working, not generally known; and strangers to the manu-
factures, though they know pretty well the expense of raising
wheat, are unacquainted with those short methods of working,
and thence being apt to suppose more labour employed in the
manufactures than there really is, are more easily imposed on
in their value, and induced to allow more for them than they
are honestly worth. Thus, the advantage of having manufac-
tures in a country, does not consist, as is commonly supposed,
in their highly advancing the value of rough materials of which
they are formed: since though six pennyworths of flax may
be worth twenty shillings when worked into lace, j;et the very
cause of its being worth twenty shillings is, that, besides the
flax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsistence
to the manufacturer. But the advantage of manufactures is,
that under their shape provisions may be more easily carried to
a foreign market ; and by their means our traders may more
easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is not made, are judges

Essay xv.] Annotations. 155

of the value of lace. The importer may demand forty, and
perhaps get thirty shillings, for that which cost him but twenty.
' Finally, there seem to be but three ways for a nation to
acquire wealth. The, first is by war, as the Romans did, in
plundering their conquered neighbours. This is robbery. The
second by commerce, which is generally cheating. The third is
by agriculture, the only honest way, wherein man receives a real
increase of the seed sown in the ground, in a kind of continual
miracle wrought by the hand of God in his favour, as a reward
for his innocent life and his virtuous industry.'

The reader will observe that, in this disquisition, labour is
made the sole measure of value, without any regard to the
questions, whose labour? or how directed? and,*t^YA what
results ? On this principle, therefore, if a Raphael takes only
as much time and trouble in making a fine picture, as a shoe-
maker in making a pair of boots, he is a cheat if he receives
more for his picture than the other for the boots ! And if it
costs the same labour to produce a cask of ordinary Cape- wine,
and one of Constantia, they ought in justice to sell for the
same price ! Thus our notions of morality, as well as of poli-
tical economy, are thrown into disorder.

Yet such nonsense as this passed current in the days of our
fathers. And it is only in our own days that people have been
permitted to buy food where they could get it cheapest.

* T%ere useth to be more trepidation in court upon the first breaks
ing out of troubles than were fit ... /

To expect to tranquillize and benefit a country by gratifying
its agitators, would be like the practice of the superstitious of
old with their sympathetic powders and ointments ; who, instead
of applying medicaments to the wound, contented themselves
with salving the sword which had inflicted it. Since the days
of Dane-gelt downwards, nay, since the world was created,
nothing but evil has resulted from concessions made to intimi-
dation.

ESSAY XVI. OF ATHEISM.

I HAD rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the
Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is
without a mind ; and, therefore, God never wrought miracles to
convince^ atheism, because his ordinary works convince it. It
is true, that a little philosophy inclineth Man's mind to atheism,
but depth in philosophy bringeth men^s minds about to religion;
for while the mind of Man looketh upon second causes scattered,
it may sometimes rest in them, and go no farther ; but when it
beholdeth the chain of them confederate, and linked together, it
must needs fly to Providence and Deity : nay, even that school
which is most accused of atheism, doth most demonstrate
religion ; that is, the school of Leucippus, and Democritus, and
Epicurus — for it is a thousand times more credible, that four
mutable elements and one immutable fifth essence, duly and
eternally placed, need no God, than that an army of infinite
small portions, or seeds, unplaced, should have produced this
order and beauty without a divine marshal. The Scripture
saith, * The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God /* it is
not said, ' The fool hath thought in his heart / so as' he rather
saith it by rote to himself, as that* he would have, than that he
can thoroughly believe it, or be persuaded of it ; for none deny
there is a God, but those for whom it maketh^ that there were
no God. It appeareth in nothing more, that atheism is rather
in the lip than in the heart of Man, than by this, that atheists
will ever be talking of that their opinion, as if they fainted in
it themselves, and would be glad to be strengthened by the
consent* of others ; nay, more, you shall have atheists strive to
get disciples, as it^fareth with other sects ; and, which is most
of all, you shall have them that will suffer for atheism^ end

^ Convince. Convict j prove guilty, ' To convince all that are ungodly among
them of all their ungodly deeds.' — Epistle of Jude,

^ Psalm xiv. i. 'As. That. See page 23.

< That. What, See page 73.

^ For whom it maketh. To whom it would he advantageous.

• Consent. Agreement in opinion. ' Socrates, by the consent of all excellent
writers that followed him, was approved to be the wisest man of all Greeoe.'-*-iSir
J. Mgot.

Essay xvi.] 0/ Atheism, 157

not recant : whereas, if they did truly think that there were
no such thing as God, why should they trouble themselves ?
Epicunis is charged, that he did but dissemble for his credit^s
ssJce, when he affirmed there were blest natures, but such as
enjoy themselves without having respect to the government
of the world, wherein they say he did temporize, though in
secret he thought there was no God ; but certainly he is tra-
duced, for his words are noble and divine ; ^ Non deos vulgi
negare profanum : sed vulgi opiniones diis applicare profanum/ ^
Plato could have said no more ; and although he had the
confidence' to deny the administration, he had not the power to
deny the nature. The Indians of the West have names for their
particular gods, though they have no name for God ; as if the
heat}iens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, Sec.,
but not the word Deus : which shows, that even those barbarous
people have the notion, though they have not the latitude and
extent of it ; so that against atheists the very savages take
part with the very subtilest philosophers. The contemplative
atheist is rare — a Diagoras, a Bion, a Lucian, perhaps, and
some others : and yet they seem to be more than they are, for
that all that impugn a received religion, or superstition, are, by
the adverse part, branded with the name of atheists ; but the great
iHhMto indeed are hypocrites, which are ever handling holy
tluiigs, but without feeling, so as they must needs be cauterized
m the end.

The caus^ of atheism are, divisions in religion, if there
be many ; for any one main division addeth zeal to both sides,
hot many diviaiojas introduce atheism : another is, scandal of
priesta, wh«i it is come to that which St. Bernard saith,
'Non est jam dicere, ut populus, sic sacerdos; quia nee sic
pepnlod, ut sacerdos.^ ' A third is, a custom of profane scoffing in
koly matters, which doth by little and little deface the reverence
of religion : and lastly, learned times, especially with peace and
jfosperity ; for troubles and adversities do more bow men^s
aimds to religion. They that deny a God destroy a man's

/

^ < It is not profane to deny the gods of the common people, bat it is profane to
apply to the godg the notions of the common people.' — Diog. Laert. x. 123.

* Confidence* Boldness,

> ' It is not now to be sud. As the people, so the priest; because the people are
not such as the priests are.'

A

158 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi

nobility, for certainly Man is of kin to the beasts by bis body ;
and if he be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and
ignoble creature. It destroys likewise magnanimity, and the
rising human nature ; for, take an example of a dog, and mark
what a generosity and courage he will put on when he finds
himself maintained by a man, who to him is instead of a God,
or melior natura^ — which courage is manifestly such as that
creature, without that confidence' of a better nature than his
own, could never attain. So man, when he resteth and assureth
himself upon divine protection and favour, gathereth a force and
faith which human nature in itself could not obtain ; therefore,
as atheism is in all respects hateful, so in this, that it depriveth
human nature of the means to exalt itself above human frailty.
As it is in particular persons, so it is in nations : — never. was
there such a state for magnanimity as Bome. Of this state
hear what Cicero saith : ' Quam volumus, licet, patres oonscripti,
nos amemus, tamen nee numero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos,
nee caUiditate Poenos, nee artibus Grsecos, nee denique hoc ipso
hujus gentis et terras domestico nativoque sensu Italos ipsos et
Latinos ; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac una sapientia, quod
deorum immortalium numine omnia regi, gubemarique per*
speximus, omnes gentes nationesque superavimus.' '

ANNOTATIONS.

' I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud^
and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a
mind!

It is evident from this, that Bacon had seized the just view
respecting credulity ; seeing plainly that ' to rfwbelieve is to

* A better nature.

' Confidence. Mrm "belief . ' Society is built upon trust, and trust upon eoit/t-
denee of one another's integ^ty.' — South.

' ' Let us be as partial to ourselves as we will, Conscript Fathers, yet we have
not surpassed the Spaniards in number, nor the Gauls in streng^, nor the Cartha-
ginians in cunning, nor the Greeks in the arts, nor, lastly, the Latins and Italians
of this nation and land, in natural intelligence about home-matters; but we have
excelled all nations and people in piety and religion, and in this one wisdom of fully
recognising that all things are ordered and governed by the power of the immortal
gods/— Cic. De Sar, Mesp, 9.

Essay xvi.] Annotations. 159

believe/ If one man believes that there is a God^ and another
that there is no God^ whichever holds the less reasonable of
these two opinions is chargeable with credulity. For the only
way to avoid credulity and incredulity — ^the two necessarily going
together — ^is to listen to, and yield to, the best evidence, and to
believe and disbelieve on good grounds.

And however imperfectly and indistinctly we may under-
stand thp attributes of God — of the Eternal Being who made
and who governs all things — the 'mind of this universal
frame/ the proof of the existence of a Being possessed of
them is most clear and full ; being, in fact, the very same evi-
dence on which we believe in the existence of one another. How
do we know that men exist ? (that is, not merely Beings having
a certain visible bodily form — for that is not what we chiefly
imply by the word Man, — ^but rational agents, such as we call
men). Surely not by the immediate evidence of our senses,
(since mind is not an object of sight), but by observing the
thinffs performed — ^the manifest result of rational contrivance.
If we land in a strange country, doubting whether it be in-
habited, as soon as we find, for instance, a boat, or a house,
we are as perfectly certain that a man has been there, as if he
had appeared before our eyes. Yet the atheist believes that
' this universal frame is without a mind/ that it was the produc-
tion of chance ; that the particles of matter of which the world
consists, moved about at random, and accidentally fell into the
shape it now bears. Surely the atheist has little reason to
make a boast of his ' incredulity/ while believing anything so
strange and absurd as that ' an army of infinitely small portions
or seeds, unplaced, should have produced this order and beauty
without a divine marshal.'

In that phenomenon in language, that both in the Greek and
Latin, nouns of the neuter gender, denoting things, invariably
had the nominative and the accusative the same, or rather, had
an aocasative only, employed as a nominative when required, —
may there not be traced an indistinct consciousness of the
persuasion that a mere thing is not capable of being an agent,
which a person only can really be ; and that the possession of
power, strictly so called, by physical causes, is not conceivable,
or their capacity to maintain, any more than to produce at first,
the system of the Universe ? — whose continued existence, as

i6o Of Atheism. [Essay xvi.

well as its origin, seems to depend on the continued operation
of the great Creator. May there not be in this an admission
that the laws of nature presuppose an agent^ and are incapable
of being the cause of their own observance ?

^Epicurus is charged, that he did but dissemble for his credit's sake,
when he affirmed there were blessed natures .... wherein
they say he did but temporize, though in secret he thought
there was no God, But certainly he is traduced/ ....

It is remarkable that Bacon, like many others very con-
versant with ancient Mythology, failed to perceive that the
pagan nations were in reality atheists. They mistake altogether
the real character of the pagan religions.* They imagine that
all men, in every age and country, had always designed to
worship one Supreme God, the Maker of all things ; * and that
the error of the Pagans consisted merely in the false accounts
they gave of Him, and in their worshipping other inferior gods
besides. But this is altogether a mistake. Bacon was, in this,
misled by words, as so many have been, — the very delusion he
so earnestly warns men against. The Pagans used the word
' God / but in a different sense from us. For by the word Gt)d,
we understand an Eternal Being, who made and who governs
all things. And if any one should deny that there is any such
Being, we should say that he was an atheist ; even though he
might believe that there do exist Beings superior to Man, such

^ See Lessons on Beligious Worship, L. ii.
' See Pope's Universal Frayer : —

* Father of all, in every age.

In every clime adored ;
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.'

See also Howe's Tragedy of Tamerlane, Act 3, Sc ii.—
' Look round how Providence bestows alike
Sunshine and rain to bless the fruitful year.
On different nations, all of different fisuths ;
And (tho* by several names and titles worshipp'd)
Heaven takes the various tribute of their praise;
Since all agree to own, at least to mean.
One best, one greatest, only Lord of all.
Thus when he viewed the many forms of Nature
He said that all was good, and bless'd tlie fifur yariety.'

Essay xvi.] Annotations. 16 1

as the Fairies and Genii, in whom the uneducated in many
parts of Europe still believe.

Accordingly, the apostle Paul {Ephes. ii. 12) expressly calls
the ancient Pagans atheists {aO^oi), though he well knew that
they worshipped certain supposed superior Beings which they
called gods. But he says in the Epistle to the Romans, that
' they worshipped the creature more than^ (that is, instead of)
the Creator.' And at Lystra {Acts xiv. 15), when the people
were going to do sacrifice to him and Barnabas, mistaking them
for two of their gods, he told them to ' turn from those vanities,
to serve the living God who made heaven and earth.*

This is what is declared in the first sentence of the Book of
Genesis* And so far were the ancient Pagans from believing
that ' in the beginning God made the heavens and the earth,'
that, on the contrary, the heavens, and the earth, and the sea,
and many other natural objects, were among the very gods they
adored. They did, indeed, believe such extravagant fables as
Bacon alludes to, and which he declares to be less incredible
than that * this universal frame is without a mind ;' and yet,
they did also believe that it is without a mind ; that is, without
what he evidently means by ' a mind' — an eternal, intelligent
Maker and Ruler. Most men would imderstand by ^ an atheisf
one who disbelieves the existence of any such personal agent ;
though believing (as every one must) that there is some kind of
cause for everything that takes place.

It may be added, that, as the pagan-worship has been gene-
raUy of evil Beings,' so, the religions have been usually of a
corresponding character. We read of the ancient Canaanites
that ' every abomination which the Lord hateth, have these
nations done, unto their gods! And among the Hindus, the
foulest impurities, and the most revolting cruelties, are not
merely permitted by their religion, but are a part of their
worship. Yet one may hear it said, not unfrequently, that
' any religion is better than none.' And a celebrated writer,
in an article in a Bicview (afterwards published by himself),
deriding the attempt to convert the Hindus, represents their
religion as being (though absurd) on the whole beneficial;

' TLapd rbv Kritravra,
* See Zeuom o» BmU^wub Wartkip, L. ii.

M

i62, Of Atheism. [Essay xvi.

because ' it is better that a man should look for reward
or punishment from a deity with a hundred arms^ than that
he should look for none at all/ But he forgot to take into
account the question, ' rewarded or punished for what ?' The
hundred-armed deity makes it an unpardonable sin to put into
the mouth a cartridge greased, with beef-iat, but a meritorious
act to slaughter, with circumstances of unspeakable horror,
men, women, and children, of Christians I

' A custom of profane scoffing in holy matters,^

In reference to ' the profane scoffing in holy matters,* it is
to be observed that jests on sacred subjects are, when men are
so disposed, the most easily produced of any; because the
contrcLst between the dignified and a low image, exhibited in
combination (in which the whole force of the ludicrous consists),
is, in this case, the most striking. It is commonly said, that
there is no wit in profane jests ; but it would be hard to frame
any definition of wit that should exclude them. It would be
more correct to say (and I really believe that is what is really
meant) that the practice displays no gveai powers of wit because
the subject matter renders it so particularly easy ; and that (for
the very same reason) it afibrds the least gratification (apart
from all higher considerations) to judges of good taste ; since
a great part of the pleasure afforded by wit results fix)m a
perception of skill displayed and difficulty surmounted.

We have said, apart ftom all higher considerations; for surely,
there is something very shocking to a well-disposed mind in
such jests, as those, for instance, so frequently heard, in con-
nexion with Satan and his agency. Suppose a rational Being
— an inhabitant of some other planet — could visit this, our
earth, and witness the gaiety of heart with which Satan, and
his agents, and his victims, and the dreadful doom reserved for
them, and everything relating to the subject, are, by many
persons, talked of and laughed at, and resorted to as a source
of amusement ; what inference would he be likely to draw ?

Doubtless he would, at first, conclude that no one believed
^ything of all this, but that we regarded the whole as a string
of fables, like the heathen mythology, or the nursery tales of
fairies and enchanters, which are told to amuse children. But
when he came to learn that these things are not only /rue, but

Essay xvi.] Annotations. 163

are actually believed by the far greater part of those who,
nevertheless, treat them as a subject of mirth, what would he
think of us then ? He would surely regard this as a most
astounding proof of the great art, and of the great influence
of that Evil Being who can have so far blinded men's under-*
standings, and so depraved their moral sentiments, and so
hardened their hearts, as to lead them, not merely to regard
with careless apathy their spiritual enemy, and the dangers they
are exposed to from him, and the final ruin of his victims, but
even to find amusement in a subject of such surpassing horror,
and to introduce allusions to it by way of a jest I Surely,
generally speaking, right-minded persons are accustomed to
r^ard wickedness and misery as most unfit subjects for jesting.
They would be shocked at any one who should find amusement
in the ravages and slaughter perpetrated by a licentious soldiery
in a conquered country ; or in the lingering tortures inflicted
by wild Indians on their prisoners j or in the burning of heretics
under the Inquisition. Nay, the very Inquisitors themselves,
who have thought it their duty to practise such cruelties, would
have been ashamed to be thought so brutal as to regard the
sufferings of their victims as a subject of mirth. And any one
who should treat as a jest the crimes and cruelties of the French
devolution, would generally be deemed more depraved than
even the perpetrators themselves.^

It is, however, to be observed, that we are not to be ofiended
as if sacred matters were laughed at, when some folly that has
heeu forced into connexion with them is exposed. When things
really ridiculous are mixed up with religion, who is to be
blamed ? Not he who shows that they are ridiculous, and no
parts of religion, but those who disfigure truth by blending
fidsehood with it. It is true, indeed, that to attack even error
in religion with mere ridicule is no wise act ; because good
things may be ridiculed as well as bad. But it surely cannot
be our duty to abstain from showing plainly that absurd things
are absurd, merely because people cannot help smiling at them.
A tree is not injiued by being cleared of moss and lichens; nor
truth, by having folly or sophistry torn away from around it. '

1 See Lectures on a JMure State,
> See CamHone for the Timm.

164 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi.

It is a good plan, witli a young person of a character to
be much affected by ludicrous and absurd representations, to
show him plainly, by examples, that there is nothing which may
not be so represented; he will hardly need to be told that
everything is not a mere joke ; and he may thus be secured
from fEilling into a contempt of those particular things which
he may at any time happen to find so treated; and, instead
of being led by ' profane scoffing on holy matters into atheism/
as Bacon supposes, he will be apt to pause and reflect that it
may be as well to try over again, with serious candour, every-
thing which has been hastily given up as fit only for ridicule,
and to abandon the system of scoffing altogether ; looking at
everything on the right side as well as on the wrong, and
trying how any system will look, standing upright, as well as
topsy-turvy.

* The causes of atheism are

Among the causes of atheism, Bacon has omitted one noticed
by him as one of the causes of superstition, and yet it is not
less a source of infidelity — ' the taking an aim at divine matters
by human, which cannot but breed mixture of imaginations/
Now, in human nature there is no more powerful principle than
a craving for ir^aUibUity in religious matters. To examine and
re-examine, — ^to reason and reflect, — ^to hesitate and to decide
with caution, — ^to be always open to evidence, — and to acknow-
ledge that, after all, we are liable to error; — aU this is, on many
accounts, unacceptable to the human mind, — ^both to its diffidence
and to its pride, — ^to its indolence, — its dread of anxious cares,
— and to its love of self-satisfied and confident repose. And
hence there is a strong prejudice in favour of any system which
promises to put an end to the work of inquiring, at once and
for ever, and to rdieve us firom all embarrassing doubt and
uncomfortable distrust. ^ Consequently this craving for infallibi-
lity predisposes men towards the pretensions, either of a supposed
unerring Church, or of those who claim or who promise imme-
diate inspiration. And this promise of infallible guidance, not
only meets Man's wishes, but his conjectures also. When we
give the reins to our own feelings and fancies, such a provision
appears as probable as it is desirable. If antecedently to the

Essay xvi.] Annotations. 165

distinct announcement of any particular revelation, men were
asked what kind of revelation they would wish to obtain, and
again, what kind of revelation they would think it the most
reasonable and probable that Gk)d should bestow, they would be
likely to answer both questions by saying, ' Such a revelation as
should provide some infallible guide on earth, readily accessible
to every man ; so that no one could possibly be in doubt, on
any point, as to what he was required to believe and to do ; but
should be placed, as it were, on a kind of plain high road,
which he would only have to follow steadily, without taking any
care to look around him ; or, rather, in* some kind of vehicle
on such a road, in which he would be safely carried to his
journey's end, even though asleep, provided he never quitted
that vehicle. For,' a man might say, ^ if a book is put into
my hands containing a divine revelation, and in which are
passages that may be differently understood by different persons,
—even by those of learning and ability, — even by men pro-
fessing each to have earnestly prayed for spiritual guidance^
towards the right interpretation thereof, — and if, moreover, this
book contains, in respect of some points of belief and of con-
duct, no directions at all, — ^then there is a manifest necessity
that I should be provided with an infallible interpreter of this
book, who shall be always at hand to be consulted, and ready
to teach me, without the possibility of mistake, the right
meaning of every passage, and to supply all deficiencies and
omissions in the book itself. For, otherwise, this revelation is,
to me, no revelation at all. Though the book itself be perfectly
free from all admixture of error, — ^though all that it asserts be
true, and all its directions right, still it is no guide for me, unless
I have an infallible certainty, on each point, what its assertions,
and directions are. It is in vain to tell me that the pole-star
is always fixed in the north ; I cannot steer my course by it
when it is obscured by clouds, so that I cannot be certain where
that star is. I need a compass to steer by, which I can consult
at all times. There is, therefore, a manifest necessity for an
infallible and universally accessible interpreter on earth, as an
indispensable accompaniment — and indeed essential part— of
any divine revelation.'

Sucb would be the reasonings, and such the feelings, of a
xnan left to himself to consider what sort of revelation from

i66 Of Atheism. [Essay xn.

Heaven Tfould be the most acceptable^ and also the most j^ro*
bable, — ^the most adapted to meet his wMes and his wants.
And thus are men predisposed^ both by their feelings and their
antecedent conjectures^ towards the admission of such preten-
sions as have been above alluded to.

And it may be added, that any one who is thus induced to
give himself up implicitly to the guidance of such a supposed
in£Edlible authority, without presuming thenceforth to exercise
his own judgment on any point relative to religion, or to think
for himself at all on such matters, — such a one will be likely
to regard this procedure as the very perfection of pious hundlity,
— as a most reverent observance of the nde of ' lean not to
thine own understanding */ though in reality it is the very error
of improperly leaning to our own understanding. For, to
resolve to believe that God must have dealt with mankind just
in the way that we could wish as the most desirable, and in the
way that to us seems the most probable, — ^this is, in fact, to set
up ourselves as his judges. It is to dictate to Him, in the spirit
of Naaman, who thought that the prophet would recover him
by a touch; and who chose to be healed by the waters of Abana
and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, which he deemed better
than all the waters of Israel.

But anything that falls in at once with men^s wishes, and
with their conjectures, and which also presents itself to them in
the guise of a virtuous humility, — this they are often found
readily and firmly to believe, not only without evidence, but
against all evidence.

And thus it is in the present case. The principle that every
revelation from Heaven necessarily requires, as an indispensable
accompaniment, an infallible interpreter always at hand, — this
principle clings so strongly to the minds of many men, that
they are even found still to maintain it after they have ceased
to believe in any revelation at aU, or even in the existence of a
God.

There can be no doubt of the fact, that very great numbers
of men are to be found, — ^they are much more numerous in
some parts of the Continent than among us ; men not deficient
in intelligence, nor altogether strangers to reflection, who, while
they, for the most part conform externally to the prevailing
religion, are inwardly utter unbelievers in Christianity; yet still

Essay xvi.] Annotations. 167

hold to the principle, — ^which, in fitct, has had the chief share
in making them nnbelieyers, — ^that the idea of a divine reve-
lation implies that of a universally accessible, inpallible
INTEEPBBTEB ; and that the one without the other is an absur-
dity and contradiction.

And this principle it is that has mainly contributed to make
these men unbelievers. For, when a tolerably intelligent and
reflective man has fully satisfied himself that in point of fact
no such provision has been made, — ^that no infallible and uni-
versally accessible interpreter does exist on earth (and this is a
conclusion which even the very words of Paul, in his discourse
at Miletus {ActsjLx.) would be alone fully sufficient to establish)
— when he has satisfied himself of the non-existence of this
interpreter, yet still adheres to the principle of its supposed
necessity, the consequence is inevitable, that he will at once
reject all belief of Christianity. The ideas of a revelation,
and of an unerring interpreter, being, in his mind, inseparably
conjoined, the overthrow of the one belief cannot but carry the
other along with it. Such a person, therefore, will be apt to
think it not worth while to examine the reasons in favour of
any other form of Christianity, not pretending to furnish an
infallible interpreter. This — ^which, he is fully convinced, is
essential to a Aevelation from Heaven — is, by some Churches,
claimed, but not established, while the rest do not even claim
it. The pretensions of the one he has listened to, and delibe-
rately rejected ; those of the other he r^ards as not even worth
listening to.

The system, then, of reasoning from our own conjectures
as to the necessity of the Most High doing so and so, tends to
lead a man to proceed fix>m the rejection of his own form of
Christianity to a rejection of revelation altogether. But does
it stop here? Does not the same system lead naturally to
Atheism also? Experience shows that that consequenoe, which
reason might have anticipated, does often actually take place.
He who gives the reins to his own conjectures as to what is
necessary, and thence draws his conclusions, will be likely to
find a necessity for such divine interference in the affairs of the
world as does not in fact take place. He will deem it no less
than necessary, that an omnipotent and all-wise and beneficent
Being should interfere to rescue the oppressed from the oppressor.

l68 Of Atheism. [Essay xvi.

.—the corrupted firom the corruptor^ — ^to deliver men from such
temptations to evil as it is morally impossible they should
Trithstand; — and^ in shorty to banish evil from the imiverse.
And^ since this is not done, he draws the inference that there
cannot possibly be a Grod, and that to believe otherwise is a
gross absurdity. Such a belief he may, indeed, consider as
useful for keeping up a wholesome awe in the minds of the
vulgar; and for their sakes he^ay outwardly profess Christianity
also; even as the heathen philosophers of old endeavoured to
keep up the popular superstitions; but a real belief he will
regard as something impossible to an intelligent and reflective
mindl

It is not meant that all, or the greater part, of those who
maintain the principle here spoken of, are Atheists. We all
know how common it is for men to fail of carrying out some
principle (whether good or bad) which they have adopted; — ^how
common, to maintain the premises, and not perceive the con-
clusion to which they lead. But the tendency of the principle
itself is what is here pointed out : and the danger is anything
but imaginary, of its leading, in fact, as it does naturally and
consistently, to Atheism as its ultimate result.

But surely, the Atheist is not hereby excused. To reject
or undervalue the revelation Grod has bestowed, ui^ng that it
is no revelation to us, or an insufficient one, because unerring
certainty is not bestowed also, — because we are required to
exercise patient diligence, and watchfulness, and candour, and
humble self-distrust, — this would be as unreasonable as to dis«
parage and reject the bountiful gift of eye-sight, because men's
eyes have sometimes deceived them — because men have mis«
taken a picture for the object imitated, or a mirage of the
desert for a lake ; and have fancied they had the evidence of
sight for the sun's motion ; and to infer from all this that we
ought to blindfold ourselves, and be led henceforth by some
guide who pretends to be himself not liable to such deceptions.

Let no one fear that by forbearing to forestall the judgment
of the last day, — by not presuming to dictate to the Most High^
and boldly to pronounce in what way He must have imparted a
revelation to Man, — ^by renouncing all pretensions to infallibility^
whether an immediate and personal, or a derived infallibility, —
by owning themselves to be neither impeccable nor infallible

Essay xvi.] Annotations. 169

(both claims are alike groundless), and by consenting to un-
dergo those trials of vigilance and of patience which God has
appointed for them, — ^let them not fear that by this they will
forfeit all cheerful hope of final salvation, — all 'joy and peace
in believing/ The reverse of all this is the reality. While such
Christians as have sought rather for peace, — for mental tran-
quillity and satisfaction, — than for tnUh, will often fail both of
truth and peace, those of the opposite disposition are more
likely to attain both from their gracious Master. He has
taught us to 'take heed that we be not deceived,' and to
* beware of false prophets / and He has promised us His own
peace and heavenly comfort. He has bid us watch and pray ;
He has taught us, through His blessed Apostle, to ' take heed
to ourselves,' and to ' work out our salvation with fear and
trembling ;' and He has declared, through the same Apostle,
that ' He worketh in us / He has bid us rejoice in hope ; He
has promised that He ' will not suffer us to be tempted above
what we are able to bear ;' and He has taught us to look for-
ward to the time when we shall no longer ' see as by means of
a mirror, darkly, but face to face / — when we shall know, ' not
in part, but even as we are known/ — when faith shall be
succeeded by certainty, and hope be ripened into enjoyment.
His precepts and His promises go together. His support and
comfort are given to those who seek for them in the way He
has Himself appointed.

ESSAY XVIL OF SUPERSTITION,

IT were better to have no opinion of God at all, than snch an
opinion as is unworthy of Him ; for the one is unbelief, the
other is contumely : and certainly superstition is the reproach
of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose : ' Surely/
saith he, ' I had rather a great deal, men should say there was
no such a man at all as Plutarch, than that they should say
there was one Plutarch, that would eat his children as soon as
they were bom j" as the poets speak of Saturn : and as the
contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is greater
towards men. Atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy,
to natural piety, to laws, to reputation — all which may be
guides to an outward moral virtue, though religion were not, —
but superstition dismounts all these, and erecteth an absolute
monarchy in the minds of men ; therefore atheism did never
perturb' States ; for it makes men wary of themselves, as look<-
ing no further; and we see the times inclined to atheism, as
the time of Augustus Caesar, were civil* times ; but superstition
hath been the confusion of many States, and bringeth in a new
primum mobile,* that ravisheth all the spheres of government.
The master of superstition is the people, and in all superstition
wise men follow fools ; and arguments are fitted to practice in
a reversed order. It was gravely said, by some of the prelates
in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the schoolmen
bare great sway, that the schoolmen were like astronomers,
which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines of
orbs, to save the phenomena, though they knew there were no
such things; and, in like manner, that the schoolmen had
framed a number of subtile and intricate axioms and theorems,
to save the practice of the Church.

^ Hut.- De Superttit x.

' Perturb. To disturb, ' They are content to suffer the penalties annexed,
rather than perturb the public peace.' — Kinff Charles I.
■ Civil. Orderly ; tranquil; civilized.

* For rudest minds by harmony were caught.
And civU life was by the Muses taught.' — EoscofMmonm
^ Primum mobile. See page 141.

Essay xvii.] Annotations. 171

The causes of superstition are pleasing and sensual^ rites and
ceremonies; excess of outward and pharisaical holiness; over-
great reverence of traditions^ which cannot but load the Church ;
the stratagems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre ;
the favouring too much of good intentions, which openeth the
gate to conceits and novelties; the taking an aim at divine
matters by human, which cannot but breed mixture of imagina-
tions; and, lastiy, barbarous times, especially joined with cala-
mities and disasters. Superstition, without a veil, is a deformed
thing ; for as it addeth deformity to an ape to be so hke a man,
so the similitude of superstition to religion makes it the more
deformed ; and as wholesome meat corrupteth to littie worms,
so good forms and orders corrupt into a number of petty ol)ser-
yances. There is a superstition in avoiding superstition, when
men think to do best if they go farthest from the superstition
formerly received ; therefore care would^ be had that (as it fareth
in ill pulsings) the good be not taken away with the bad, which
oommonly is done when the people is the reformer.

ANTITHETA ON SUPEBSTITION.

Pro. Cowtba.

* Qui zelo peocant» non probandi, sed ' TJt simie, rimilitudo cam homine,

temen Rmandi sunt.' deformitatem addit ; ita superstilioni,

' Those who go wrong fiom excess of similitiido cum religione.

zeal, cannot indeed be approved, but * As an ape is the more hideous for

mmst nevertheless be loved* its resemblance to a man, so is super*

• • • • stition from its resemhlanee to religion'

'Prsestat nnUam habere de diis
opinionem, qoarn contumelloeam.'

' It is better to have no opinion at all
qf the gods, than a degrading one*

ANNOTATIONS.

Some use the word superstition to denote any belief which
they hold to be absurd, if those who hold it can give no ex-
planation of it. For example, some fancy that the hair will
not grow well if it be cut in the wane of the moon. But such

1 SeosnaL Affecting the senses, ' * Would. Should. .

1"]% Of Superstition, [Essay xvii.

a notion, though it may be a groundless fancy, is not to be
called, in the strict sense, a superstition, unless it be connected
with some sort of religious reverence for some supposed super-
human agent. Neither is superstition (as it has been defined
by a popular though superficial writer) ' an excess of religion *
(at least in the ordinary sense of the word excess), as if any one
could have too much of true religion : but any misdirection of
religious feeling ; manifested either in showing religious venera-
tion or regard to objects which deserve none ; that is, properly
speaking, the worship of false gods ; or, in the assignment of
such a degree, or such a kind of religious veneration to any ob-
ject, as that object, though worthy of some reverence, does not
deserve ; or in the worship of the true God through the medium
of improper rites and ceremonies.

It was the unsparing suppression of both those kinds of
superstition which constituted the distinguished and peculiar
merit of that upright and zealous prince, Hezekiah. He was
not satisfied, like many other kings, with putting down that
branch of superstition which involves the breach of the first
Commandment — the setting up of false gods ; but was equally
decisive in his reprobation of the other branch also — ^the wor-
ship of the true God by the medium of prohibited emblems,
and with unauthorized and superstitious rites. Of these two
kinds of superstition, the latter is continually liable, in practice,
to slide into the former by such insensible degrees, that it is
often hard to decide, in particular cases, where the breach of
the second Commandment ends, and that of the first begins.
The distinction is not, however, for that reason useless ; perhaps
it is even the more useful on that very account, and was for
that reason preserved, in those two Commandments, of which
the second serves as a kind of outwork to the first, to guard
against all gradual approaches to a violation of it — to keep men
at a distance from infringing the majesty of ' the jealous God/
Minds strongly predisposed to superstition, may be compared
to heavy bodies just balanced on the verge of a precipice. The
slightest touch will send them over, and then, the greatest
exertion that can be made may be insufficient to arrest their
fall.

Essay xvii.] Annotations. 173

' The one is unbelief, the other is contumely; and certainly
superstition is the reproach of the Deity.'

Bacon might have sud that both are unbelief; for, he who
rashly gives heed to superstitious delusions, errs not from excess
of faith, but from want of faith; since what is true in his
belief, he receives not because it is true, — ^but because it agrees
with some prejudice or fancy of his own ; and he is right when
he is right, only by chance. Having violated the spirit of the
first Commandment, by regarding what is human with the vene«
ration due to that only which is divine, his worship, even of the
true God, becomes an abomination. ' He has set up idols in
his heart, and the Lord^ the jealous God, will set His face
against that man.'

And in reference to the contumely of God, it is a circum-
stance very remarkable, that, in many instances at least, super-
stition not only does not promote true religion, but even tends
to generate profaneness. In proof of the strange mixture of
superstition and profaneness that leads to the jokes and sallies
of wit that are frequently heard among the Spanish peasantry,
even in respect to the very objects of superstitious reverence,
I can cite the testimony of an eminently competent witness.
The like strange mixture is found in other Roman Catholic, and
also in Pagan countries, particularly among the Hindus, who
are described as habitually reviling their gods in the grossest
terms, on the occasion of any untoward event. And in our
own country nothing is so common a theme of profane jests
among the vulgar of all ranks as the Devil; a large proportion
of the superstition that exists being connected more or less
with the agency of Evil Spirits.

This curious anomaly may perhaps be, in a great measure
at leasts accounted for, from the consideration, that, as supersti«
tion imposes a yoke rather of fear than of love, her votaries are
glad to take revenge, as it were, when galled by this yoke, and
to indemnify themselves in some degree both for the irksome-
ness of their restraints and tasks, and also for the degradation
(some sense of which is always excited by a consciousness of
slavish dread), by taking liberties whenever they dare, either
in the way of insult or of playfulness, with the objects of their
dread.

174 Of Superstition. [Essay xvii.

But how comes it that they ever do dare, as we see is the
fact^ to take these liberties ? This will perhaps be explained
by its being a characteristic of superstition to enjoin, and to
attribute efficacy to, the mere performance of some specific out-
ward acts, — ^the use of some material object, without any loyal^
affectionate devotion of heart being required to accompany
such acts, and to pervade the whole life as a ruling motive.
Hence, the rigid observance of the precise directions given,
leaves the votary secure, at ease in conscience, and at liberty^
as well as in a disposition, to indulge in profaneness. In like
manner a patient, who dares not refuse to swallow a nauseous
dose, and to confine himself to a strict regimen, yet who is
both vexed, and somewhat ashamed, at submitting to the annoy-
ance, will sometimes take his revenge as it were, by abusive
ridicule of the medical attendant and his drugs ; knowing that
this will not, so long as he does but take the medicines, dimi-
nish their efficacy. Superstitious observances are a kind of
distasteful or disgusting remedy, which, however, is to operate
if it be but swallowed, and on which accordingly the votary
sometimes ventures gladly to revenge himself. Thus does super-
stition generate profaneness.

' As the contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is
greater towards men/

It is somewhat strange that it should be necessary to remark
on the enormity — the noxious character — of aU superstition.
The mischiefe of superstition are, I conceive, much underrated.
It is by many r^arded, not as any sin, but as a mere harmless
folly, at the worst ; — as, in some instances, an amiable weak-
ness, or even a salutary delusion. Its votaries are pitied, as
in some cases subjected to needless and painful restraints,
and undergoing groundless terrors; — ^sometimes they are ridi-
culed as enslaved to absurd and puerile observances: but
whether pitied or laughed at, superstitious Christians are often
regarded as likely — at least as not the less likely on account
of their superstition, — ^to have secured the essentials of religion:
— as believing and practising what is needful towards salvation,

1 See Essay 'On SaperstitioV 3rd Series.

Essay xvii.] Annotations. 175

and as only carrying their faith and their practice^ unnecessarily
and unreasonably^ to the point of weak credulity and foolish
scrupulosity. This view of the subject has a strong tendency
to confirm the superstitious^ and even to add to their number.
They feel that if there is any doubt^ they are surely on the
safe side. ' Supposing I am in error on this or that point^
(a man may say), ^ I am merely doing something superfluous ;
at the worst I suffer some temporary inconvenience^ and perhaps
have to encounter some ridicule ; but if the error be on the other
side, I risk my salvation by embracing it ; my present course
therefore is evidently the safest — I am^ after all^ ^n the safe side.'
— As if there were any safe side but the side of truth ; and as
if it could be safe to manifest distrust of a skilful physician by
combining with his medicines aU the nostrums of all the ignorant
practitioners in the neighbourhood.

' How fsiS the superstition of any individual may be excu-
sable or blameable in the sight of God^ can be pronounced by
Him alone^ who alone is able to estimate each man's strength
or weakness, his opportunities of gaining knowledge, and his
employment or neglect of those opportunities. But the same
may be said of every ot&er offence, as well as of those in
question. Of superstition itself, in all its various forms and
degrees, I cannot think otherwise than that it is not merely a
iblly to be ridiculed, but a mischief to be dreaded ; and that its
tendency is, in most cases, as far as it extends, destructive
of true piety.

'The disposition to reverence some superhuman Power, and
in some way or other to endeavour to recommend ourselves to
the favour of that Power, is (more or less in different individuals)
a natural and original sentiment of the human mind. The
great enemy of Man finds it easier in most cases to misdirect,
than to eradicate this. If an exercise for this religious senti-
ment can be provided — ^if this natural craving after divine
worship (if I may so speak) can be satisfied — by the practice of
superstitious ceremonies, true piety will be much more easily
extinguished ; the conscience will on this point have been set
at rest ; Qod's place in the heart will, as it were, have been
pre-occupied by an idol; and that genuine religion which
consists in a devotedness of the affections to God, operating on
the improvement of the moral character, will be more effectually

another vent^ and exliausted themselves on vanities of man's
devising/ ^

Too religious, in the proper sense of the word, we cannot be.
We cannot have the religions sentiments and principles too
strong, or too deeply fixed, if only they have a right object.
We cannot love God too warmly — or honottr Him too highly —
or strive to serve Him too earnestly — or trust Him too impli-
citly ; because our duty is to love Him ' with all our heart, and
all our soul, and all our mind, and all our strength.'

But too religious, in another sense, we may, and are very
apt to be ; — ^that is, we are very apt to make for ourselves too
many objects of religious feeling.

Now, Almighty God has revealed Himself as the proper
object of religion — as the one only Power on whom we are to
feel ourselves continually dependent for all things, and the one
only Being whose favour we are continually to seek. And, lest
we should complain that an Infinite Being is an object too
remote and incomprehensible for our minds to dwell upon. He
has manifested Himself in his Son, the man Jesus Christ, whose
history and character are largely described to us in the Gospels ;
so that, to love, fear, honour, and serve Jesus Christ, is to love,
fear, honour, and serve Almighty God ; Jesus Christ being
'one with the Father,' and 'all the fulness of the Godhead'
dwelling in Him,

But as long as our characters are not like God's, and we are
tmwilling to have them made like his, we are naturally averse
to being brought thus into immediate contact with Him ; and
we shrink from holding (as it were) direct converse, or ' walking
with' God, — ^from making Him the object towards which our
thoughts and afiections directly turn, and the person to whom
we come straight in our prayers, and in whose control and
presence we feel ourselves at all times. Hence, men wish to
put between themselves and God some other less perfect Beings,
with whom they can be more fetmiliar, and who (they hope) will
' let them off' more easily, when they sin, than He woiUd.

NoWj indulging this disposition is not merely adding to true

* EfTOTB of Bitmatiiam, 3rd edition, Eesij T. J 3^ pp. 34*37*

^

their consciences — their mediators^ and substitutes in the service
of God, and their despotic spiritual rulers.

' There is undoubtedly much truth in such a representation ;
but it leaves on the mind an erroneous impression^ because it is
(at the utmost) only half the truth.

^ If, indeed, in any country, priests had been Beings of a
different species — or a distinct caste, as in some of the Pagan
nations where the priesthood is hereditary ; — if this race had
been distinguished from the people by intellectual superiority
and moral depravity, and if the people had been sincerely de-
sirous of knowing, and serving, and obeying God for themselves,
but had been persuaded by these demons in human form that
this was impossible, and that the laity must trust them to per-
form what was requisite, in their stead, and submit implicitly
to their guidance, — then, indeed, there would be ground for
regarding priestcraft as altogether the work of the priests, and
in no degree of the people. But we should remember, that in
every age and country (even where they were, as the Romish
priests were not, a distinct caste), priests must have been mere
men, of like passions with their brethren ; and though some-
times they might have, on the whole, a considerable intellectual
superiority, yet it must always have been impossible to delude
men into the reception of such gross absurdities, if they had
not found in them a readiness — nay, a craving — for delusion.
The reply which is recorded of a Bomish priest, is, (not in the
sight of Gt)d indeed, but) as far as regards any complaint on
the part of the laity, a satisfactory defence ; when taxed with
some of the monstrous impostures of his Church, his answer
was, ^The people wish to be deceived; and let them be de-
ceived/^ Such, indeed, was the case of Aaron, and similar the
defence he offered, for making the Israelites an image, at their
desire. Let it not be forgotten, that the first recorded instance
of departure from purity of worship, as established by the reve-
lation to the Israelites, was forced on the priest by the people.

'The truth is, mankind have an innate propensity, as to
other errors, so, to that of endeavouring to serve Gt)d by proxy ;
— to commit to some distinct Order of men the care of their
religious concerns, in the same manner as they confide the care

^ ' PopulaB vult dedp, et dedpifttor.'

of their bodily health to the physician, and of their ;
transactions to the lawyer; deeming it sufficient to i
implicitly their directions, without attempting themsel
become acquainted with the mysteries of medicine or o: '
For, Man, except when unusually depraved, retains enou
the image of his Maker, to have a natural reverence foi I
gion, and a desire that God should be worshipped; but, th]
the corruption of his nature, his heart is (except when di\
purified) too much alienated from God to take deligl
serving Him. Hence the disposition men have ever sho\i
substitute the devotion of the priest for their own ; to leav I
duties of piety in his hands, and to let him serve God in
stead. This disposition is not so much the consequervd
itself the origin of priestcraft. The Romish hierarchy die
take advantage from time to time of this natural propensit I
ingrafting successively on its system such practices and p i
of doctrine as favoured it, and which were naturally convc i
into a source of profit and influence to the priesthood. H
sprung — among other instances of what Bacon calls 'the st
gems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre,^ — the gra i
transformation of the christian minister — the Presbyter — .
the sacrificing priest, the Hiercus (in Latin, ' sacerdos,^ as 1
Romanists call theirs) of the Jewish and Pagan religi ;
Hence sprung the doctrine of the necessity of Confession •
priest, and of the efficacy of the Penance he enjoins, and of I
Absolution he bestows. These corruptions crept in one by ( i
originating for the most part with an ignorant and depra i
people, but connived at, cherished, consecrated, and successi^ :
established, by a debased and worldly-minded Ministry; ; i
modified by them just so far as might best favour the views
their secular ambition. The system thus gradually compact ;
was not — ^like Mahometism — the deliberate contrivance ol
designing impostor. Mahomet did indeed most artfully accc
modate his system to Man's nature, but did not wait for I
gradual and spontaneous operations of human nature to prodi
it. He reared at once the standard of prose lytisra, and i
pt^aed on his followers a code of doctrines and laws rea;
framed for their reception* The tree which he planted t
indeed fmd a congenial soil; but he planted it at once with i
trunk full formed and its branches displayed. The Romi.

system, on the contrary, rose insensibly, like a yonng plant
from the seed, making a progress scarcely perceptible from year
to year, till at length it had fixed its roots deeply in the soil^

and spread its baneful shade far around.

' Tnfc«unda qutdetn^ s«d Ifeta et fortia enrgunt^
Qulppe Bolo nahtra eabest /

it was the natural offspring of man's frail and corrupt character,
and it needed no sedulous culture* It had its source in human
passionSj not checked and regulated by those who ought to have
been ministers of the Gospel, but who, on the contrary, were
ever ready to indulge and eucourage men's weakness and wicked-
iicsSj provided they could turn it to their own advantage. The
good seed '^fell among thorns;^ which, being fostered by those
TV ho should have been occupied in rooting them out, not only
' sprang up with itj' but finally choked and overpowered it.

^ In ail superstition wise men follow fools ; and argumads are
fitted to practice in a reverse order/

^ It is a mistake, and a very common, and practically not
unimportant one, to conclude that tlic origin of each tenet or
practice ia to be found in those arguments or texts which are
urged in support of it ; — that they furnish the cause, on the
removal of which the effects will cease of course; and that Tvhcn
once those reasonings are exploded, and those texts rightly ex-
plained, all danger is at au end, of falling into similar errors.

' The fact is, that in a great number of instances, and by no
means exclusively in questions connected with religion, the
erroneous belief or practice has arisen first, and the theory has
been devised afterwards for its support* Into whatever opinions
or conduct men arc led by any human propensities, they seek
to defend and justify these by the best arguments they can
frame; and then, assigning (as they often do in perfect sincerity)
these arguments as the cause of their adopting such notious^
they misdirect the course of our inquiry ; and thus the chance
(however small it may be at any rate) of rectifying their errors
is diminished, For if these be in reality traceable to some
deep-seated principle of our nature, as soon as ever one false
foundation on which they have been placed is removed, another
will be substituted ; as soon as one theory ia proved untenable^

can fail to perceive how opposite this is to true piety, 1
forms not only supersede piety by stand iug in its place
gradually alter tlie habits of the mind, and render it unl
the exercise of genuine pious sentiment. Even the na
food of religion (if I may so speak) is thus converted int
poison. Our very prayers, for example, and our perusal o
holy Scriptures, become superstitiouSj in proportion as anj
expects them to ojjerate as a charm — attributing efficacy tc
mere worda^ while his feelings and thoughts are not occupit
what he is doing. ^

^ Every religious ceremony or exercise, however well ci
latcd, in itself, to improve the hearty is liablCj as 1 have i
thus to degenerate into a mere form, and consequently
become superstitious : but in proportion as the outward ol
van CCS are the more complex and operosCj and the more
meaning or uniutelligiblej the more danger is there of supei
tiously attaching a sort of magical efficacy to the bare outw
act, independent of mental devotion. Ifj for example, even
prayers arc liable^ without constant watch fulnesSj to becom
superstitious forra^ by our ' honouring God with our lipSj wl
our heart is far from Hira/ this result is almost nnavoida
when the prayers are recited in an unknown tongue, and iv
a prescribed number of ' vain repetitions,' crossings^ and tell:
of beads. And men of a timorous mind, having once taken
a ^n-ong notion of what rehgion consists in, seek a refuge fr
doubt and anxiety, a substitute for inward piety, and, too oft
a compensation for an evil life, in an endless multiplication
superstitious observances ; — of pilgriraagesj sprinklings yi
holy water, veneration of relics, and the like. And hence
enormous accumulation of superstitions, which, in the cou
of many centuries, gradually arose in the Eomish and Gr^
Churches.'

But were there no such thing in existence as a eorr
church, we are not to suppose that we are safe from super
tion. There are a great many things which cannot be *
peased, that, though not superstitious in themselves, may
abu^d into occasions of superstition. Such are the sacraraen
prayer, public and private ; instructions from the ministers

> Bm Esfa^s, (and seriefs,) Eimy X. * On S«lf-demi»l/

Roman Catholic, what are so received. If a man when
* Such is the tradition of the Church/ should ask, ' how die
learn that?' it will be found, by pushing such inquiries,
tlie priest learnt it from a book, which reports that somet
lias been reported by one of the ancient fathers as having 1
reported to him as believed by those who had heard it repc
tliat the Apostles taught it. So that, to found faith on an
peal to such tradition, is to base it on the report of a repo%
a report of a report. And, therefore, the discussions one sc
times meets with, as to the ' credibility of traditions' gencri
are as idle as Hume's respecting the credit due to iestim
One might as well inquire, ' What degree of regard should
paid to books?' As common sense would dictate in re
• fVhat book?' as also 'Whose testimony? — what traditio
As each particular testimony, and each particular book, just
should each alleged tradition be examined on its own merits
' Tradition is not the interpreter of Scripture^ but Scripti
is the interpreter of tradition. It is foolish to say that in
tion is to be held to, rather than Scripture, because tradit
, was before Scripture ; since the Scriptures (that is, written
cottls) were used on purpose, after traditions had been tried,
guard against the uncertainties of mere tradition. Scripture
the test ; and yet many defend oral tradition on the grou
that we have the Scriptures themselves by tradition. Wo^
they think that^ because they could trust most servants to (
U?er a letter, however long or important, therefore they coi
trust them to deliver ita contents in a message by word
mouth ? Take a familiar case. A footman brings you a let
from a friend, upon whose word you can perfectly rely, givi
an accxjnnt of somethiDg that has happened to himself, and 1
esact account of which you are greatly concerned to knc
IVhile you are reading and answering the letter, the iootm
goes into the kitchen, and there gives your cook an account
the same thing ; which, he says, he overheard the upper servai
at home talking over, as related to them by the valet, who ss
he had it from your friend's son's own lips» The cook rcla
the story to your groom, and he, in turn, teUs you. Would y
' I iudge of that story by the letter, or the leUer by the story ?^

€wtktiQn4 for the r*»w#, ist ^tioti, Nc>- XJ, pp» ao^ 2X,

Well migtt Bacon speak of the ' over-loading ' by tradition,
for it does over-load, whether — according to the pretended dis-
tinction — ^it be made co-ordinate with, or subordinate to, Scrip-
ture. To make these countless traditions the substitute for
Scripture by offering them to the people as proofs of doctrine,
is something like offering to pay a large bill of exchange in
farthings, which, you know, it would be intolerably troublesome
to count or carry. And tradition when made subordinate to,
and dependent on. Scripture, is made so much in the same
way that some parasite plants are dependent on the trees that
support them. The parasite at first clings to, and rests on, the
tree, which it gradually overspreads with its own foliage, till by
little and little, it weakens and completely smothers it.

' Miratnrque novas firondes, et non saa ponuu'

But, with regard to this distinction attempted to be set up
between co-ordinate and subordinate tradition, it is to be ob-
served, that, ' if any human comment or interpretation is to be
received implicitly and without appeal, it is placed practically,
as far as relates to everything except a mere question of dignity ^
on a level with Scripture. Among the Parliamentarians at the
time of the Civil War, there were many — at first a great
majority — ^who ppofessed to obey the King's commands, cls
notified to them by Parliament^ and levied forces in the King's
name, against his person. If any one admitted Parliament to
be the sole and authoritative interpreter and expounder of the
regal commands, and this without any check from any other
power, it is plain that he virtually admitted the sovereignty of
that Parliament, just as much as if he had recognized Uxeir
formal deposition of the King.^^

' The taking aim at divine matters by human.*

The desire of prying into mysteries relative to the invisible
world, but which have no connexion with practice, is a charac-
teristic of human nature, and to it may be traced the immense
mass of presumptuous speculations about things unrevealed, re-
specting God and his designs, and his decrees, ' secret to us,'*
as well as all the idle legends of various kinds respecting wonder-

^ Kingdom of Christ, 4th edition, Essay II. § 26, p. 216. ^ See z 7th Article.

iprorking saints^ 8cc. The sanction afforded to these by pe
ivho did not themselves believe tbem^ sprang from a dish(
pursuit of the expedient rather than the true ; but it is pro!
that the far greater part of such idle tales had not their a
in any deep and politic contrivance, but in men's natural pai
for what is marvellous^ and readiness to cater for that passio
each other ; — ^in the universal fondness of the human mine
speculative knowledge respecting things curious and th
hidden, rather than (what alone the Scriptures supply) praci
knowledge respecting things which have a reference to our wa
It was thus the simplicity of the Grospel was corrupted by ' s
ture of imaginations/ When the illumination from Heave
the rays of revelation — failed to shed the full light men desij
they brought to the dial-plate the lamp of human philosoph

' Men think to do best if they go furthest from the superstU
formerly received ; therefore care wotUd be had that the gi
be not taken away with the bad.'

There is a natural tendency to ' raistate reverse of right
wrong/ It is not enough^ therefore, to act upon the tr
familiar rule of guarding especially against the error iFhich
each occasion, or in each placCj you tind men espeeiaUy liaf
to ; but you must re member j at the same time^ tliis other ca
tion, not less important and far more likely to be overlooked
to guard against a tendency to a reaction — against the prouenc
to rush from one e^itrcmc into the opposite.

One cause of this is^ that a painful and odious association
sometimes formed in men's minds with anything at all connect
with that from which they have suffered much ; and thus th
are led to reject the good and the evil together. This is figur
in the Tale of a Tub, by Jack's eagerness to be ^ as unlike tl
rogue Peter as possible f and he accordingly tears off the t
of his coat, and flings it away, because it had been ovcrh
with lace.

* Since almost every erroneous system contains truth blend
TTith false hood J hence its tendency usually is, first, to reco
tiitud the falsehood on account of the truth combined with
and afterwards, to bring the truth into contempt or odium
amiunt of the intermixture of falsehood.

those capable of learning from other experience than their own^
than in ^hat relates to the history of reactions.

'It has been often remarked by geographers that a river
flowing through a level country of soft alluvial soil^ never keeps
a straight course, but winds regularly to and fro, in the form
of the letter S many times repeated. And a geographer, on
looking at the course of any stream as marked on a map, can at
once tell whether it flows along a plain (like the river Meander,
which has given its name to such windings) or through a rocky
and hilly country. It is found, indeed, that if a straight
channel be cut for any stream in a plain consisting of tolerably
soft soil, it never will long continue straight, imless artificially
kept so, but becomes crooked, and increases its windings more
and more every year. The cause is, that any little wearing
away of the bank in the softest part of the soil, on one side,
occasions a set of the stream against this hollow, which in-
creases it, and at the same time drives the water aslant against
the opposite bank a little lower down. This wears away that
bank also ; and thus the stream is again driven against a part
of the first bank, still lower ; and so on, till by the wearing
away of the banks at these points on each side, and the deposit
of mud (gradually becoming dry land) in the comparatively still
water between them, the course of the stream becomes sinuous,
and its windings increase more and more.

'And even thus, in himian affairs, we find alternate move-
ments, in nearly opposite directions, taking place from time to
time, and generally bearing some proportion to each other in
respect of the violence of each ; even as the highest flood-tide
is succeeded by the lowest ebb.

'We find — in the case of political affairs, — that the most
servile submission to privileged classes, and the grossest abuses
of power by these, have been the precursors of the wildest
ebullitions of popular fury, — of the overthrow indiscriminately
of ancient institutions, good and bad, — and of the most turbu-
lent democracy; generally proportioned, in its extravagance
and violence, to the degree of previous oppression and previous
degradation. And again, we find that whenever men have
become heartily wearied of licentious anarchy, their eagerness
has been proportionably great to embrace the opposite extreme

of rigorous despotism ; like shipwrecked mariners clingiq
bare and ru^ed rock as a refuge from the waves.

' And when we look to the history of religums change
prospect is similar. The formalism^ the superstition, an
priestcraft which prevailed for so many ages throughout (
tendom^ led, in many instances, by a natural reaction, t
-wildest irregularities of fanaticism or profaneness. Wc
antinomian licentiousness, in some instances, the success
the pretended merit of what were called 'good works
others^ the rejection altogether of the christian Sacran
succeeding the superstitious abuse of them; the legiti
claims of every visible Church utterly disowned by the
scendants of those who had groaned under a spiritual tyrai
pretensions to individual personal inspiration set up by t
who had revolted from that tyranny ; and in short, every va]
of extravagance that was most contrasted with the excesses
abuses that had before prevailed.'

Such are the lessons which Reason and wide Experi<
would teach to those who ' have ears to hear,' and which
wisest men in various ages have laboured, and generally labox
in vaiiij to inculcate. For all Reason, all Experience, and
authority of all the wise, are too often powerless when oppc
to excited party-spirit,^

We cannot, then, be too much on our guard agaiast
actions, lest we rush from one fault into another contrary fa
We should remember also that all admixture of truth v
error has a double danger : some admit both together ; otl
reject both. And hence, nothing is harmless that is mista
either for a truth or for a virtue.

In no point, we may be assured, \b our spiritual enemy m
vigilant. He is ever ready not merely to tempt la with
unmixed poi§ou of known sin, but to corrupt even our fc
and to taint even our medicine, with the venora of his fa
hood. For, religion is the medicine of the soul ; it is the
si^ed and appropriate preventive and remedy for the evils of
nature. The subtle Tempter well knows that no other alii
|l I ments to sin would be of much avail, if this medicine vi

f _

I ^ ^ See CauiiDna for ^Ae Time*, No. XIX.

O

ESSAY XVIII. OF TRAVEL.

TRAVEL, in the younger sort, is a part of education ;
elder, a part of experience. He that travelleth into a co
before he hath some entrance into the language, goeth to t
and not to travel. That young men travel under some
or grave servant, I allow ^ well ; bo that he be such a on
Bath the language, and hath been in the country bi
'whereby he may be able to tell them what things are w
to be seen in the country where they go, what acquaint
they are to seek^ what exercises or discipline the place yieli
for else young men shall go hooded, and look abroad ,
It is a strange thing that, in sea voyages, where there is noi
to be seen but sky and sea, men should make diaries ; b
land- travel, wherein so much is to be observed, for the
part they omit it — as if chance were fitter to be registered
observation i let diaries, therefore, be brought in use,
things to be seen and observed are the courts of princes, <
cially when they give audience to ambassadors ; the courl
justice, whUc they sit and hear causes; and so of consist i
ecclesiastic ; the churches and monasteries, with the monnm
which are therein extant ; the walls and fortifications of c
and towns ; and so the havens and harbours, antiquities
ruins, libraries, colleges, disputations and lectures, where
are ; shipping and navies ; houses and gardens of state
pleasure near great cities; armories, arsenals, magazines,
changes, burses, * warehouses, exercises of horsemanship, fern
training of soldiers^ and the like ; comedies, such where
the better sort of persons do resort ; treasuries of jewels
robes ; cabinets and rarities ; and, to conclude, whatsoev
memorable in the places where they go — after all which
tutors or servants ought to make diligent inquiry. A

' Alkur. Approve. 'The Lord atlowvih the* rigbteoua,' — 'F*<tlmjt.
* Bante. Exchantje } ftodws, (So oiUod from the Bign of a pnrse
iiidfcnlly §e^ ovcf the plnceu where tuepchajiti met.) ' ^"^mtemltics and oou

O 2

xriumpns^ masKS^ leasis^ weaamgs, lunerais, capixai execuuons^
and 8uch shows^ men need not be put in mind of them ; yet
they are not to be neglected. If you will have a young man
to put his travel into a little room^ and in short time to gather
much^ this you must do : firsts as was said^ he must have some
entrance into the language before he goeth ; then he must have
such a servant^ or tutor^ as knoweth the country, as was ]ike«
wise said ; let him carry with him also some card, or book^
describing the country where he travelleth, which will be a
good key to his inquiry ; let him keep also a diary ; let him
not stay long in one city or town, more or less as the place de-
serveth, but not long; nay, when he stayeth in one city or
town, let him change his lodging from one end and part of the
town to another, which is a great adamant' of acquaintance ;
let him sequester himself from the company of his countrymen,
and diet in such places where there is good company of the
nation where he travelleth ; let him, upon his removes from one
place to another, procure recommendation to some person of
quality residing in the place whither he removeth, that he may
use his favour in those things he desireth to see or know ; thus
he may abridge his travel with much profit.

As for the acquaintance which is to be sought in travel, that
which is most of all profitable, is, acquaintance with the secre-
taries, and employed men of ambassadors ; for so in travelling
in one country he shall suck the experience of many. Let
him also see and visit eminent persons in all kinds, which are
of great name abroad, that he may be able to tell how the life
agreeth with the fame. For quarrels, they are with care
and discretion to be avoided — they are commonly for mis-
tresses, healths, place, and words : and let a man beware how
he keepeth company with choleric and quarrelsome persons ;
for they will engage him into' their own quarrels. When a
traveller retumeth home, let him not leave the countries where
he hath travelled altogether behind him, but maintain a corre-

^ Triumphs. PtihUe shaw9 of any kind,

* Hold those justs and triutnpkg,* — Shakespere,
^ Adamant. For loadstone,

'You drew me, yon hard-hearted adamatU,* — Shakupere,
' Into. In, * How much more may education induce by custom good habits
into a reasonable creature.'— Xoclv.

conviction that they were, and ever must be, quite unworthy of
notice ; and having, of course, left Italy with the same opinion
on that point, with which he entered it ; knowing as much of
its inhabitants as of those in the interior of Africa ; only, with
the difference that, couceming the latter, he was atvare of his
own ignorance, and had formed no opinion at all.

And travellers who do seek for knowledge on any point, are
to be warned against hasty induction and rash generalization^
and consequent presumptuous conclusions. For instance, a lady
who had passed six weeks in Jamaica, in the house of a friend,
whom she described as eminently benevolent, and remarkably
kind to his slaves, spoke with scorn of any one who had not been
in the West Indies, and who doubted whether slaves were always
well treated. And Goldsmith, who had travelled on the Con-
tinent, decided that the higher classes were better off in repub-
lics, but the lower classes in absolute monarchies. Had he
lived a few years longer he might have seen the French popu-
lace, goaded to madness by their intense misery under the
monarchy, rushing into that awful Revolution.

During the short reign of Louis the Eighteenth, at his first
restoration, a letter was received (by a person who afterwards
regretted not having kept it as a curious document) from the
nephew of one of our then ministers, saying that all the tra-
vellers from France with whom he had conversed agreed in the
conviction that the Bourbon Government was firmly fixed, and
was daily gaining strength. The letter was dated on the very
day that Buonaparte was sailing &om Elba I and in a few
days after, the Bourbons were expelled without a struggle.
Those travellers must surely have belonged to the class of the
one-eyed.

It often happens that a man seeks, and obtains, much inter-
course with the people of the country in which he travels, but
falls in with only one particular set, whom he takes for repre-
sentatives of the whole nation. Accordingly, to Bacx)n*s admo-
nition about procuring letters of introduction, we should add a
caution as to the point of ^from whom ?' or else the traveller
may be consigned^ as it were, to persons of some particular
party, who will forward him to others, of their own party, in
the next city, and so on through the chief part of Europe.
And two persons who may have been thus treated, by those of

opposite parties^ may perhaps return from correspondii^
with as opposite impressions of the people of the co
they have visited, as the knights of the fable^ of whom o
seen only the silver side of the shield, and the other oi
golden. Both will perhaps record quite faithfully all the
seen and heard ; and one will have reported a certain na<
full of misery and complaint, and ripe for revolt, whi
other has found them prosperous, sanguine, and enthusias
loyal.

In the dajs when travelling by post-chaise was cox
there were usually certain lines of inns on all the pri
roads ; a series of good^ and a series of inferior ones, ea
connexion all the way along ; so that if you once get int
worse line, you could not easily get out of it to the jou
end. The ' White Hart ' of one town would drive you — a
literally — to the ' White Lion * of the next ; and so on, a
way ; so that of two travellers by post from London to I
or York, the one would have had nothing but bad horses
dinners^ and bad beds, and the other, very good. This is s
gous to what befalU a traveller in any new country, with re
to the impressions he receives, if he falls into the handa
party. They consign himj as it were, to tliose allied witli \
and pass him on, from one to another, all in the same eonnc
each showing him and telling him, just what suits the f
and conoealing from hJm everything else.

This is nowhere more the case than in Ireland ; from a
in which two travellers will sometimes return, each fait I
reporting what he has seen and heard, and having been
perhaps nothing mare than the truth on any pointy but onl
side of the truth ; and the impressions received will be pe
quite opposite* The Irish jaunting-car, in which the passe
sit back to back^ is a sort of type of what befalls many to
in Ireland. Each sees a great deal, and reports faithfully
he has seen, one on one side of the road, and the other o
other. One will have seen all that is ffreen, and the oth(
that is orange.

It often^ indeed, happens that men place themselves 1
ingly and wilfully in the hands of a party* But some
they are, from one eause or another, deluded into it, when
have no such thought. This sometiines takes place th

Francis I., king of France, and Charles V., emperor, th
snch a watch kept that none of the three could win a p
ground, but the other two would straightways' balance it
by confederation, or, if need were, by a war, and would
any wise take up peace at interest ; and the like was d\
that league (which Guicciardine saith was the security of
made between Ferdinando, king of Naples, Lorenzius M
and Ludovicus Sforsa, potentates, the one of Florence, th<
of Milan. Neither is the opinion of some of the schooli
be received, that a war cannot justly be made, but upon
cedent' injury or provocation ; for there is no question
just fear of an imminent danger, though there be no
given, is a lawful cause of war.

For their wives, there are cruel examples of them,
is infamed^ for the poisoning of her husband ; Roxolana,
man's wife, was the destruction of that renowned prince, S
Mustapha, and otherwise troubled his house and succee
Edward II. of England's queen had the principal hand ii
deposing and murder of her husband. This kind of dan{
then to be feared chiefly when the wives have plots for the
ing of their own children, or else that they be advoutresst

For their child reiij the tragedies likewise of dangers
them have been many ; and generally the entering of
Others into suspicion of their children hath }>een ever n
tunate. The destruction of Mustapha (that we named \m
wa3 so fatal to Solyman's line, as the suoceBsion of the T
from Soiyman until this day is suspected to be uutrue, a
strange blood, for that Selymus II. was thought to be suj

^ Palm, Ran^t hreadlh. • The palm^ or band's breadth, U & twea^
ptrt of tbe stature' — Molder.
^ jStrai^btwa^s, Immediately^

* Lilco to a ship tbat having 'flciip/d a tampesti
Is straigMiraf^ cloioi'd and boardad with a jjirat^.' — Shak^spvrv*

* Freceddui. ^mceding^

* Da \t at ODi^
Or thy precedent scrvicea arc aU
But accidents unimrpo^ed/ — ShaJtetper^.

* InfaTOed. lAfamout. * Whosoever for imy oifen<w be ijtfamed^ by tbf
bang riti^ of gold'— AVr T. Mor^.

' Mvuu.trisia, Adulierets. (bo called from breach of the momage-VDW.^
* In advoutr^
Ggd*ii oommuidmeiits breaks'— -Sonff^ I550i

being the most immediate in authority with the common
they do best temper popular commotions.

For their merchants, they are vena porta,^ and if they 1
not, a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have empt]
and nourish little. Taxes and imposts upon them do
good to the king's revenue, for that which he wins in th
dred' he loseth in the shire: the particular rates being inci
but the total bulk of trading rather decreased.

For their commons, there is little danger firom them,
it be where they have great and potent heads, or whei
meddle with the point of religion, or their customs, or ;
of life.

For their men of war, it is a dangerous state where th<
and remain in a Body, and are used to donatives, where
see examples in the janizaries, and pretorian bands of B
bat trainings of men, and arming them, in several places
under several commanders, and without donatives, are thii
defence^ and no danger.

Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good o
times, and which have much veneratiooj but no rest. AU
cepts concerning kings are in effect comprehended in thost
remembrances:^ 'Memento quod es homo/ and 'Memento
es DeuSj* or ' vice Dei*^ — the one bridleth their powefj ant
other their willp'

ANTTTHETA ON EMPIRE.

Pbo,

led earn et iliia itnp^rtiri ponsCj odlmo

' Tq enjoif ha^ppi^^w u a great good ^
i*fi ta be able lo coa/er it a /so ya othett
U ei greater itiU'

' Quatn mlacrunu babcm nil
quod Appctoa; inBnitiit qnno inotu

* How mretch^ h he who has i
anxf iking to hf^pe^ and wunif thi

' 'The great vein of the body/

' Tltmdr^. A dhi^ion of a countg, ' Lands takon from iha c^emj
d]\4ded into <%nluriei ot hundreds^ and distributed amoogst the ogldi

* ' Remember tbat tliou art man/ and * lUmefmber tliat tho^ art God — di

election^ would have been in a minority, though a verj
minority.

There have been in the United States several electii
President, in which the candidates were so nearly equal
no one can doubt that if the Americans had had the
eonstitution as ours, the Sover^gn might have fixed on t
as Premier. Now, this is undoubtedly a matter of pra
importance ; and whether it be thought a good or an evii
our Sovereign should have such a power, that he does poss^
and that it is no trifle, is evident.

If, therefore, our Sovereign is to be accounted a cypA
must be, not in the sense in which that metaphor is ordii
applied, but in a stricter sense. A cypher, — a mere roui
— stands for notlmig by itself; but adds tenfold to wha
figures are placed before it. And even so, our Sovereij
standing alone, and at variance in his political views witi
his subjects, or nearly all of them, is powerless ; but as a
porter of this or of that person, party, or measure, that ma
favoured by a considerable portion of his subjects, he may
the preponderance to either. 5 is l^s than 6 ; but 50, i
with a cypher added j is more.

And after all, the same kind of check (id a minor deg
and in a less convenient form) oti tlie power of the Sovea*
must exist even under a despotism. No despot can ]
govern completely against the will of nearly all those of
subjects — whether the People or the Army — who possess
physical force. A Bey in Barbary must have some — and t
not inconsiderable in number — to execute his comroatids*
may^ however, go on misgoverning longer than a const ituti
king could do ; and the check comes at last^ not in the si
of a remonstrance, on which he might amende but of a 1
string Of a dagger.

On the whole, the degree, and the kind of regal power^
of chetjk to that power, existing under our constitution^
what the most judicious will perceive to be the best adapte
give steadiness to an administration, and to moderate
violence of political agitations in tlie most eCFectual way th
consistent with the lil>erty we enjoy. ' We combiue the ad
tafjes of different forms by having a king holding the oflii

Be tangbt io time, that moderation
Will b^ secure yonr lofty station.
Who soars micheck'd may find too late
A sadden downfall is his fate/

' There are many persons now living who can remem
time when almost all the countries of Europe, except o\
were under absolute governments. Since then, most o
countries have passed through, at least, one or two, an
of them six or seven, violent and bloody revolutions ; an
of them, even yet, have settled under a constitution whi(
the people of those States themselves would think bette
ours, if as good/ *

^ This passage is from Lessons on the British Constitution, L. ii. § ;

%l

- «

- ESSAY XX. OF COUNSEL.

THE greatest trust between man and man^ is the trust of
giving counsel ; for in other confidences men commit the
parts of life, their lands j their goodsj their children, their credit,
j&ome particular affair; but to such as they make their coun-
sellors they commit the whole— by how much the more they
[are obliged to all faith and integrity* The wisest prince s need
Wot think it any diminution to their greatness, or dcro gajipn tg.
their sufficiency^ to rely upon counsel, God himself is not
without, but hath made it one of the great names of the blessed
Son, the ' Counsellor/ ' Solomon hath pronounced that [jn
counsel is stabiUty." Things will have tlieir first or second
agitation ; if they be not tossed upon the arguments of counsel,
^ /, they will 1)0 tossed upon the waves of fortune^ and be full of

inconstancy, doing and undoing, like the reeling of a drunken
man, Solomon^s son found the force of counsel, as bis father
saw the necessity of it : for the beloved kingdom of God was
first rent and broken by ill counsel^ — upon which counsel there
are act for our instruction the two marks whereby bad counsel
is for ever best disccrnedj that it was young counsel, for the
persons, and violent connselj for the matter.

The ancient times do set forth in figure both the incorpora-
tion and inseparable conjunction of counsel with Kings, and the
wise and politic use of counsel by Kings ■ the one, in that they
say Jupiter did marry Metis, which signifieth connael, whereby
they intend that sovereignty is married to counsel; the other in
that which folio weth, wliich was thus ; — they say, after Jupiter
was married to Metis, she conceived by him and was with child,
but Jupiter suff"ered her not to stay till she brought forth, but
ate her up, whereby he became himself with child, aod was
delivered of Pallas armed out of his head.' Which monstrous
fable containeth a secret of empire how kings are to make use
of their counsel of state — that first, they ought to refer matters
unto them, which is the first begetting or iniprcguation : but
when they are elaborate, moulded, and shaped in the womb of

1 Itaiah ix. 6, * Prtw, tx. iB. * HeaiotL Theo^. 886,

their council^ and grow ripe and ready to be brought foX
then they suffer not their council to go through with th
lution^ and direction^ as if it depended on them, but U
matter back into their own hands, and make it appear
world, that the decrees and final directions (which, becaut
come forth with prudence and power, are resemUed to
armed) proceeded from themselves, and not only from
authority, but (the more to add reputation to themselves
their head and device.

Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel
of the remedies. The inconveniences that have been
in calling and using counsel, are three: — first, the rev
of affairs, whereby they become less secret; secondly
weakening of the authority of princes, as if they wen
of themselves } tlurdly, the danger of being unfaithfully >
BcIIcd, and more for the good of them that counsel,
of him that is counselled — for which inconveniences^ the
trine of Italy, and pi*actice of France, in Bome kings' t
hath introduced cabinet councils — a remedy worse thar
disease.

As to secrecy^ princes are not bound to communicate
matters with all counsellors, but may extract and sck
neither is it necessary, that he that consulteth what he sh
do, should declare what he will do ; but let princes beware
the unsecreting ^ of their affairs comes not from thcmse'
and as for cabinet councils, it may be their motto, ^ PI
rim arum sum/" One futile* person, that maketh it his j
to tell, will do more hurt than many that know it their du
conccah It is true there be some affairs which require eit
secrecy, which will hardly go beyond one or two persons be
the king — neither are those counsels un prosperous, — for

^ y thu progress of this budnesB^

Tbo biflhopa did rcqubro a recite** '^Shake^ptre,
* Unjiecnstmg. The dufclotin^ ; the divulging. Sh^o^peru lias tbe m\

* Whj bavd I blabbed ? Who diould be true to m
Whtn we sire ao utuecrst to ounielvcfl r^SkaJtt^pere.
' 'Fullof climksam I/— Ter. BunA, II, 35.
* Futile* Talkaiipe, Boe page 73.

P 3

<>

and^ in consort/ men are more obnoxious to others' b
therefore it is good to take both — and of the inferi<
rather in private to preserve freedom^ — of the greater, ri
consort to preserve respect. It is in vain for princes '
counsel concerning matters, if they take no counsel 1
concerning persons — ^for all matters are as dead images, {
life of the execution of affairs resteth in the good ch
v/ persons ; neither is it enough to consult concerning p
^ *aecundum genera'^ as in au idea of mathematical dcs<^
'^ ' wliat the kind and character of the person should be ; :
greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is t
in the choice of individuals. It was truly said, ' Optim

-^ siliarii mortui'^ — Books will speak plain when couo

blanch/ therefore it is good to be conversant in them, b|H
the books of such as themselves have been the actors npi
stage.

I The councils at this day in most places are but fn

meetings J where matters are rather talked on than del
and they run too swift to the order or act of council. It
better that, in causes of weight, the matter were propou
one day, and not spoken to till next day, ' in nocte consilii
so was it done in the commission of union between En<
and Scotland J which was a grave and orderly assemblj
commend set days for petitions j for both it gives the si
more certainty for their attendance, and it frees the me€
for matters of estate/ that they may 'hoc agere." In c
of committees for ripening business for the council, it is I
to chuse ipdifFcrent ' persons, than to make au indifferenc
putting in those that arc strong on both sides. I com]
also standing commissions ; as for trade, for treasure^ for

' In one eon^ori tbero Bat>
Cruel Bcrenge, and raocoroQB Despite^
Disloyal Treason, and hciirt-burning Hate.' — Sjteiuc^r.

* * AcoQnlinR to tlidr khidfl/ ^ * The dead arc tho bcsfc counsell

* * In night is cotnusel/

* Matters of eatate* Pttblie affairs. * I hsgtt her talk of tfwtlvr* of
«nd tljc ScnaU;/ — Ben Jonson.

* ' Do llil§ one tbing/

^ Indifferent, Ik'^iral ; noi iimlitted to one nd« tnor^ than cmofAfr.
* Cato kiiowt neitber of tbem,
ludifftr^nt in hia choice to ^ap or die/— -liJi«of.

wi#/Myc.>»*

of history would regard as wholly or chiefly the work of men
fully sensible of the advantages of a government so mixed and
balanced. It was in great measure the result of the efforts,
partially neutralizing each other, of men who leaned, more or
less, some of them towards pure Monarchy, and others towards
Republicanism. And again, though no one can doubt how
great an advance (it is as yet only an advance) of the principle
of religious toleration, and of making a final appeal to Scripture
alone f is due to the Reformation, yet the Reformers were slow
in embracing these principles. They were at first nearly as
much disposed as their opponents to force their own interpreta-
tions of Scripture on every one, and to call in the magisirate
to suppress heresy by force. But not being able to agree
among themselves whose interpretation of Scripture should be
received as authoritative, and who should be entrusted with the
sword that was to extirpate heresy, compromises and mutual
concessions gradually led more and more to the practical
adoption of principles whose theoretical truth and justice is^
even yet, not universally perceived.

' And similar instances may be found in every part of history.
Without entering into a detailed examination of the particular
mode in which, on each occasion, a superior party is influenced
by those opposed to them — either from reluctance to drive them
to desperation, or otherwise, — certain it is, that, looking only to
the results, — the practical working of any government, — ^in the
long run, and in the general course of measures, — we do find
something corresponding to the composition of forces in Me-
chanics ; and we find, oftener than not, that the course actually
pursued ia better (however faulty) than could have been cal-
culated from the character of the greater part of those who
admin later the government. The wisest and moat moderate,
even when they form but a small minority, are often enabltHi
amidst the conflict of those in opposite extremes, to bring about
decisions, less wise and just indeed than they themseh'cs would
have desired, but far better than those of either of the extreme
parties.

* Of course we arc nut to expect the same exact uniformity of
eficcts in human affairs as in Mechanics. It is not meant tbat
each decision of every Assembly or Body of men will necessarily
be the precise ^resultant' {ns it ia called in Natural Philosopby)

ESSAY XXI. OF DELAYS.

FORTUNE is like the market, where, many times, if j
stay a little, the price will fall; and again, it is son
like SibyUa^s^ offer, which at first offereth the commo
full^ then consumeth part and part, and still holdeth
price ; for occasion (as it is in the common verse) tui
bald noddle after she hath presented her locks in front, i
hold taken ; or, at least, tumeth the handle of the bott
to be received, and after the belly,* which is hard to
There is surely no greater wisdom than well to time the
nings and onsets of things. Dangers are no more light, i
once seem light ; and more dangers have deceived men
forced them : nay, it were better to meet some dangen
way, though they come nothing near, than to keep too 1
watch upon their approaches j for if a man watch too Ic
is odds he will fall asleep- On the other side, to be de
with too long shadows {afl some have been when the moc ;
low J and shone on their enemies' backs), and so to she •
before the time, or to teach dangers to come on, by oxei
buckling* towards them, is another extreme- The ripei :
nnripeness of the occasion (as we said) must ever b
weighed ; and generally it is good to commit the beginni .
all great actions to Argus with his hundred eyes, and tb
to Briareus with his hundred bands — first to watch, an
to BpecMi; for the helmet of Pluto/ which maketh the •
mau go invisiblcj is secrecy in the counsel, and celerity i
execution ; for when things are once come to the exe
there is no secrecy comparable to celerity — like the moti( .
bullet in the air, which flicth so swift as it outruns the ( i

1 Sit^Ufc ^I%e Sib^L

' Bt^y. Thai protuheraat^ or CAtifif of anylAinj resemhlinff the Ahpi
An Iri^ b«xp bath the concntv^ or bdljr^ &t the eqd af the f^trings.'
yai,Eui, * Ph«tl,Tui,

* Buckle. To ^o ; to hapten iimoardtM

* Soou \m lucklird tu iho fitild.*-— jS^j#>Mcrr«

* HtnneTp J?, v* 843*

But still worse are those mock-wise men who mi
two systems together^ and are slow and qaick just in '
degree that a really wise man is ; only, in the wrong
who make their decisions hastily, and are slow in the ei
b^Q in a hurry, and are dilatory in proceeding ; who
their battery hastily^ and then think of loading their gti
cut their com green, (according to the French provei
pression of * manger son bl^ en herbe/) and let their fir
to ripen till it has been blown down by the winds and ia
on the ground.

' The ripeness or unripeness of the occasion must ever

weighed.'

It is a common phrase with the undiscriminating ac
of delay, that ' The World is not yet ripe for such and
measure/ But they usually forget to inquire ' Is it nj
When, and how, is it likely to become ripe ? or. Are men^
to ripen like winter pears, merely by laying them by, a
ting them alone?'

' Time,' as Bishop Copleston has remarked, {Remains, i
' is no agent/ When we speak of such and such changes
brought about by time, we mean in time, — by the gradi
imperceptible operation of some gentle agency. We
observCj therefore, whether there is any such agency at
and in what direction; — whether to render a certain
more difficult or easier. If you are surrounded by the
and want to escape, you should observe whether the
flowing or ebbing. In the one case^ you should at once a
the fordj at all hazards ; in the other, you have to wait pa
And if the water be still, and neither rising nor falling, th
shoiild consider that though tliere is no danger of drowni:
must remain insulated for ever, unless you cross the furc
that if this is to be done at all, it may be as well done a
The case of slaveiy in the United States is one of a
tide. The rapid multiplication of slaves which has
rendered their emancipation a difficult and hazardou
makes it more so every year^ and increases the dangc
servile war such as that of St. Domingo,

The serfdom of the Russians is, perhaps, rather a

The one ministry would have capitulated on tenns ; tl
sarrendered nearly at discretion. The one proposed ta
Bometliing of a free-will boon; the other yielded avoir
intiinidation.

' There is no secrecy comparable to celerity. *

We have an illustration of the importance of ' celerity
execution,* in circumstances in the history of our govert
of a later date than the instance above mentioned. A mi
which had established a certain system about which thep
been much controversy, was succeeded by those of the op]
party ; and these were eagerly looked to, by men of all pa
to see whether they would support that system in its intq
or abolish, or materially modify it. They were warned o
importance of coming to a speedy decision one way or
other, and of clearly proclaiming it at once, in order to p
stop to false hopes and false fears. And it was pointed oc
them that those who had hitherto opposed that system
now, avowedly y resting on their oars, and waiting to see
course the ministers they favoured would adopt. This wai
was conveyed in a letter, pressing for a speedy answer :
answer came in a year and a half I and after every encouj
ment had been given, during the interim of hesitation, tc
opponents of the system to come forward to commit themA
anew to their opposition (whidi they did), then at lengtl
system was adopted and approved, and carried on in tiie fi
tiiese marshalled opponents, embittered by disappointment
indignant at what they regarded as betrayal !

So much for taking one's time, and proceeding leisurelj
In another case, a measure of great benefit to the empir
proposed, which was approved by ahnost all sensible and pi
spirited men acquainted with the case, but unacceptable to
who wished to ^ fish in troubled waters/ and had sagacity ei
to perceive the tendency of the measure, — and also by som
whose private interest was opposed to that of the Public
by several others who were either misled by the above, or
of losing popularity with them. The wise course would
Wn, to make the estact arrangements, secretly, for all tl
t*ils, and then at once to bring forward the measure;

^hich is now irrecoverably eilted up, and how he co

yearfl lience, though not at presentj reclaim from tha t

sands of acres of fertile land at the delta of some riyeri

Hence the proverb — 1

' He ttmt IB truly whs and grea.if ,

LiTCi both too early and too late/ ^

S^ Protsfrhs and PnectpU Ibr Copj-plecefl for SdjooK

ESSAY XXII. OF CUNNING.

TTTE take cunning for a sinister, or crooked wisdom; and
T f certainly there is a great difference between a cunning
man and a wise man, not only in point of honesty, but in point
of ability. There be that can pack the cards, and yet cannot
play well ; so there are some that are good in canvasses and
factions, that are otherwise weak men. Again, it is one thing
to understand persons, and another thing to understand matters ;
for many are perfect in men's humours, that are not greatly
capable of the real part of business, which is the constitution of
one that hath studied men more than books. Such men are
fitter for practice than for counsel, and they are good but in
their own alley : turn them to new men, and they have lost
their aiill; so as* the old rule, to know a fool from a wise man,
^ Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos, et videbis,' ^ doth scarce hold
for them. And because these cunning men are like haber-
dashers of small wares, it is not amiss to set forth their shop.

It is a point of cunning to wait' upon him with whom you
speak, with your eye, as the Jesuits give it in precept — for there
be many wise men that have secret hearts and transparent
countenances; yet this would ^ be done with a demure abasing
of your eye sometimes, as the Jesuits also do use.

Another is, that when you have anything to obtain of pre-
sent dispatch, you entertain and amuse the party with whom
you deal with some other discourse, that he be not too much
awake to make objections. I know a counsellor and secretary,
that never came to Queen Elizabeth of England with bills to
sign, but he would always first put her into some discourse of
state, that she might the less mind the bills.

The like surprise may be 'made by moving' things when the

1 A*. That, See page 23.

' ' Send both naked to strangers, and thon shalt know.'

* Wait upon him with your eye. To look watchfiUly to Mm, * As the eyes of

servants look nnto the hands of their masters, so our eyes wait up<m the

Lord our God.' — P*. czxiiL 2.

* VP'ould. Should.

* Move. To propose,

* Let me but move one question to your daughter.'<*-iSft<z2re«2>etv.

I

party is in baste^ and cannot staj to consider ad?isedlj
is moved.

If a man would croas a business that Kg doubts som
is^ould liandsomely and effectually move, let him pretend
it well J and move it himselfj in sucb sort as may foil it^.
The breaking off in tbe midat of that one waa about
as if he took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in hi]
whom you confer to know more.

And because it works better when anyttiing seemeth
gotten from yon by qnestion, than if you offer it of yo
yon may lay a bait for a quegtion^ by showing another
and countenance than you are wont ; to the end, to give
sion for the party to ask what the matter^ is of the chan(
Kehemiah did^ — ' And I had not before that time bee^
before the king/ *

In things that are tender and nu pleasing, it is good to i
the ice by some whose words are of leas weight, and to re
the more weighty voice to come in as by chance, so thi
may be asked the question upon the other^s speech ; as
cissus didj in relating to Claudius the marriage of Mess
and Silius/

In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it
point of cunning to borrow the name of the world; as to
' The world says,^ or, ' There is a speech abroad/

I know one that, when he wrote a letter, he would put
which was most material in the postscript^ as if it had be
bye matter*

I knew another that, when he came to have speech, he ts
pass over that he intended most, and go forth, and come
again, and speak of it as a thing he had almost forgot.

Some prt>curc themselves to be surprised at such times
is like the party j that they work upon, will suddenly come
them, and be found with a letter in their hand, or doing s
what which they are not accustomed, to the end they

* Tbflt, Thai ttkick See pige 73.

* Mmtter. CanM.

' Td yoiir qniek^conceiTiiig- discontent,
I'll tend jou matttr deep emd dongereua/ — Shakespera,
' Ndkemiah ii, i, * Tacit. Ann. li. 29,

Q 2

diversas speSi sed incolumitatem imperatoris simpliciU
tare/ ' I

Some have in readiness so many tales and stories, as
nothing they would insinuate but they can wrap it into
which serveth both to keep them selves more in^ guard,
make others carry it with more pleasure.

It is a good point of cunning for a man to shape the
he would have in his own words and propositionSj for it
the other party stick' the less.

It is strange how long some men will lie in wait to
somewhat they desire to say, and how far about they wiU
and how many other matters tbey will beat over to com
it ; it is a thing of great patience, but yet of much use.

A sudden, bold, and unexpected question, doth many
surprise a man, and lay him open. Like to him that^ I
clianged his name^ and walking in PauFsj another sud
carae behind him, and called him by his true name, wt
straight ways* he looked back.

But these smalt wares and petty points of cuuninj
infinite, and it were a good deed to make a list of them
tbat nothing doth more hurt in a State than that cunning
pass for wise.

But certainly some there are that know the resorts* and
of business, that cannot sink iuto the main of it ; like a I:
tkat hath convenient stairs and entries, but never a fair n
therefore you shall see them find ont pretty^ looses* in the

^ ' Ho did not look to rarioua hopea, but aolclj to the safetj of tli€ empci
Tuau Ann. iIt. 57,

^ la. On, ' Let fbwls multiply in tho earth*'— Ccmji* k

' EStickp To hejritate ; to scruple, * Rather thun impute our miacarriAf
ear own oorroption, we do not atiek to wraign ProvklciMMj.*^ — Sovtk,

^ Stiaightwiiys, Immediately.

* Resort*, hpringst

* Forbme,
Whoae dork resorit since prudence cannot know^
In vain it would provide for what shaU bc.*^ — 'J>r^den.

* FoUfl. Chamcw. ' To risist the fnO^ of ftMrt\miiJ^Gol4en Book.
' Pretty, Stt£iahhi Jit ; iQUrahle.

* My daughter's of ^ pteii*^ age/— 5offl*o and Juliets
^ Ijoohw. Jnvef ; escapes from reslrai»if tush <h ijt difficuU^ or ptrplti

' And shot they with the Bqiuue, the round, or forket pile^ (head of an iztt
The tiiote gave such a twang ai tnight be heard a mile/— 2>rajf/pi*»

dosion^^ but are no ways able to examine or debate matters ;
and yet commonly they take advantage of their inability^ and
would be thought wits of direction. Some build rather upon
the abusing^ of others^ and (as we now say) putting tricks upon
them^ than upon the soundness of their own proceedings ; but
Solomon saith, 'Frudens advertit ad gressus suos; stultus
divertit ad doles/ '

ANNOTATIONS.

' We take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom.^

Those who are for making etymology decisive as to tbe
actual meaning of words^ might maintain that, as the word
is derived from ' ken' — u e. ' know/ — ^it is properly to be applied^
now (as it was formerly)^ to all knowledge and skill.

Andy again^ a plausible disquisition might be written on
human depravity ; the present use of the word being taken
as a proof that all who possess knowledge are likely to make
an ill-use of it. Such disquisitions may be met with^ by
writers who either do not understand^ or trust to their readers
not understanding, the principles on which languages are
formed and modified^ and who would fain pass for profound
moral philosophers.'

But^ in truths it is quite natural^ and very comLmon^ to use

This use of the word 'loose' seems to correspond with oar use of the word ' soln-
tion/ from soloo, to loose — ' Solve the question :'

' He had red her riddle, which no wight
Could ever loose,' — Spenser,
^ Conclusion. The close ; the result of deliberation, ' I have been reasoning,
and in conclusion have thought it best to return to what Fortune had made my
home/ — 8w\ft,

Bacon's meaning in the use of the words taken together, * Pretty looses in the
conclusion,' is best explained by the original Latin of this Essay — ' Tales videtis
in conclusionibus deHberationum quoedam exitus reperire.'
> Abuse. To deceive,

' The Moor's abused by some tno^t vUlniKiiiB knave/ — Sl^^k^spere.
^ * The wise man looks to his steps ; tlie foul tums asSdo to the snare/
^ Keo 'Auootationfl* on Essny L. * Sec Mn^Ush Synon^nu ; Prdocc.

softened expressions in speaking of anything odious.
the -words, accordingly, which now denote something i
were originally euphemisms, and gradually became appi
to a bad sense. Thus (to take one example out of a mc
^ tvicked must have originally meant ' lively / being fom
* quick/ or ' wick/ i. e. alive. This latter is the word
use in Cumberland for ^ alive.' And hence the It
burning — ^part of a lamp or candle, is called the wick.

^ Certainly there is a great difference between a cunni
and a tvise man, — not only in point of fionesty, but
of ability.^

Whatever a man may be, intellectually, he laboun
tbis disadvantage if he is of low moral principle, that he
only the weak and bad parts of human nature, and i
better.

It was remarked by an intelligent Roman Catholic t
Cknrfessional trains the priest to a knowledge not of
nature, but of ment^ nosology, ' It may therefore
them/ he said, ' for the treatment of a depraved, but no
pure mind/

Now, what the Confessional is to the priest, that^ a 1
own heart is to Mm. He can form no notion of a
nature than his own. He is like the goats in Ko
Crusoe^s island, who saw clearly everything below thei
very imperfectly what was above them; so that Robinson
could never get at them from the valleys, but when he
upon them from the hill-top^ took tlicm quite by eurprist

Miss Edge worth describes such a person as one who
all mankind into rogues and fools, and when he meets ^
honest man of good sense, does not know what to make c
Nothing, it is said^ more puzzled Buonaparte. He woul
a man money ; if that failed, he would talk of glory ^ or p
him rank and power ; but if aU these temptations failed,
him down for an idiot^ or a half- mad dreamer, Consciei
a thing he could not understand. Other things, then
equal, an honest man has this advantage over a knave, t
understaTirts more of human nature i for he knows tl
honest man exists : and concludea that there must be mor

he also knows^ if he is not a mere simpleton^ that there are
some who are knavish ; but the knave can seldom be brought
to believe in the existence of an honest man. The honest man
may be deceived in particular persons^ but the knave is svre to
be deceived whenever he comes across an honest man who is
not a mere fool.

There are some writers of fiction whose productions have
lately (1854) obtained considerable reputatian, who have given
spirited and just representations of particular characters, but an
unnatural picture of society as a whole, from omitting {what
they appear to have no notion of) all characters of good sense
combined with good principle. They seem to have formed
no idea of any, but what one may call ^vr\Buq and KOKon&tic \
— simpletons and crafty knavea ; together with some who com-
bine portions of each; profligacy with silliness. But all their
worthy people are represented as weak, and all those of superior
intelligence as morally detestable. One of these writers was^ in
conversation, reprobating as unjust the censure passed on slavery,
and maintaining that any ill-usage of a slave was as rare in
America, as a hump-back or a club-foot among us ; — quite an
exception. If so, the Americans must be a curious contrast to
all that hi a fictions represent; for, in them, all of superior intelli-
gencCj and most of those of no superior intelligence^ are just
the persons who would make the most tyraimical slave- roasters ;
being not only utterly unprincipledj but utterly hard-hearted,
and strangers to all human feeling I

The sort of advantage which those of high moral principle
possess, in the knowledge of mankind, is analogous to that
which Man possesses over the brute, Man is an animal j as
well as the brute ; but he is something more. He has, and
therefore can undcratand^ most of their appetites and propensi-
ti^ : but he has also faculties which they want, and of which
they can form no notion. Even sOj the bodily appetites, and
the desire of gain, and other propensities, arc common to the
most elevated and the most degraded of mankind; but the
latter are deficient in the higher qualifications which the others
possess ; and can, accordingly, so little underatand them, that,
as Bacon remarks, ' of the highest virtues, the vulgar have n0
perception.' (Suprcmarum sen sua nullus,)

' These small wares and petty points of cunning are infim

To these small wares^ enumerated by Bacon^ might I
a very hackneyed tricky which yet is wonderfully succ
to affect a delicacy about mentioning particulars^ and
what you cmdd bring forward^ only you do not wish
offence. ^ We could give many cases to prove that si
such a medical system is all a delusion^ and a piece of qi
but we abstain, through tenderness for individuals^ iron
ing names before the Public/ ' I have observed manj
— which^ however, I will not particularize — which convi
that Mr. Such-a-one is unfit for his office; and othei
made the same remark; but I do not like to briu)
forward,' &c. &c.

Thus an unarmed man keeps the unthinking in a
assuring them that he has a pair of loaded pistols in his
though he is 4oth to produce them.

The following trick is supposed (for no certain kno

could be, or ever can be, obtained) to have been succc

practised in a transaction which occurred in the men:

persons now living : — ^A person whose conduct was ah

undergo an investigation which it could not well stand, a

nicated to one who was likely to be called on as a witn(

the details — a complete fEibrication — of some atrocious n

duct : and when the witness narrated the conversation, i

denied the whole, and easily proved that the things des

could not possibly have occurred. The result was, a un

acquittal, and a belief that all the accusations were the

of an atrocious conspiracy. Eat those who best kne

characters of the parties, were convinced that the witnei

spoken nothing but the truth as to the alleged conver

and had been tricked by the accused party, who had in

a false accusation in order to defeat a true one.

One not very uncommon device of some cunning pec
an affectation of extreme aimplicity; which often has the
for the time at least, of throwing the eoropany off their
And their plan is to affect a haaty, blunt^ and what the ]
call ' brn&que ' manner. The simple arc apt to coucludc t
vho is not smooth and cautiout^, mu&t be houeat, and whf

cuvico^ lAJ Vise \jyxjHtUJ.\JVi v/x bjiidi. luaoi/cx g gi^xtb chuu Auju\^xvcbuu

affairs. And for the most part, the good such servants receive
is after the model of their own fortmie, but the hurt they sell
for that good is after the model of their master's fortune. And
certainly it is the nature of extreme self-lovers, as* they will set
a house on fire and' it were but to roast their eggs; and yet
these men many times hold credit with their masters, because
their study is but to please them, and profit themselves ; and
for either respect' they will abandon the good of their affairs.

Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof, a
depraved thing : it is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure to
leave a house some time before its fall : it is the wisdom of the
fox, that thrusts out the badger, who digged and made room
for him : it is the wisdom of crocodiles, that shed tears when
they would devour. But that which is specially to be noted is,
that those which (as Cicero says of Pompey) are ' sui amantes
sine rivali ' ^ are many times unfortunate ; and whereas they
have all their time sacrificed to themselves, they become in the
end themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of fortune, whose
wings they thought by their self-wisdom to have pinioned.

ANNOTATIONS.

' An ant is a shrewd thing in a garden.'

This was probably the established notion in Bacon's time^
as it is with some, perhaps, now. People seeing plants in a
sickly state covered with ants, attributed the mischief to them ;
the fact being that the ants do them neither harm nor good^
but are occupied in sucking the secretion of the aphides which
swarm on diseased plants, and are partly the cause, partly the
effect of disease. If he had carefully watched the ants, he

' Afl. Thca. See page 23.

« And. If, 'An' it like yovL.*~~Shaketpere,

' Kespect. ConnderaHon.

* There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.' — ShaJcespere,
* * Lovers of themselves without a rival.* — Cic. ad, Q. Jl 1 1 1, 8.

' Divide with reason between self-love and society; and be so true
to thyself as thou be not false to others.'

The difference between self-love and selfishness has been well
explained by Aristotle^ though he has not accounted for the use
of the word <^iXavTia. It is dear that selfishness exists only in
reference to others^ and could have no place in one who lived
alone on a desert island^ though he might have of course every
degree of self-love ; for selfishness is not an excess of self-love,
and consists not in an over-desire of happiness^ but in placing
your happiness in something which interferes with^ or leaves
you regardless of^ that of others.' Nor are we to suppose that
selfishness and want of feeling are either the same or insepa-
rable. For^ on the one hand^ I have known such as have had
very little feeling, but felt for others as much nearly as for
themselves^ and were^ therefore^ far fix)m selfish ; and, on the
other hand^ some, of very acute feelings, feel for no one but
themselves^ and, indeed, are sometimes amongst the most cruel.

Under this head of the 'dividing between self-love and
society ' may be placed a distinction made by Bishop Copleston*
between two things which he says are occasionally confounded
by Locke, as well as most other writers on education. ' Two
things/ he remarks^ ' ought to be kept perfectly distinct — ^viz.,
that mode of education which would be most beneficial, as a
system, to society at large, with that which would contribute
most to the advantage and prosperity of an individual. Now,
the peculiar interest of the individual is not always the same,
is seldom precisely the same, is even frequently at variance,
with the interest of the public. And he who serves the one
most faithfully always forgets, and often injures, the other.
The latter is that alone which deserves the attention of a
philosopher; the former — individual interest — is narrow, selfish,
and mercenary. It is the mode of education which would fit
for a specific employment, or contribute most to individual
advantage and prosperity, on which the world are most eager to
inform themselves; but the persons who instruct them, how-
ever they may deserve the thanks and esteem of those whom
they benefit^ do no service to mankind. There are but so maay

^ See Lessons on Morals, L. xvi. § 3.
* Memoir qf Bishop CopleHon, p. 307.

good places in the theatre of life ; and he who puts i
way of procuring one of them does to us indeed a grea
but none to the whole assembly.' He adds a little i
wide space is left to the discretion of the individual^ ^
claims of the community are either not pressing o
silent/

Another point in which the advantage of the indi
quite distinct from that of the public^ I have touched
a Lecture on the ProfeasionSy from which I take the li
adding an extract. ' It is worth remarking that then
point wherein some branches of the Law differ from otl
agree with some professions of a totally different class, i
ability and professional skill, in a Judge, or a Conv
are, if combined with integrity, a jmblic benefit,
confer a service on certain individuals, not at the e^
any others: and the death or retirement of a man thus q
is a loss to the community. And the same may be ss
physician, a manufacturer, a navigator, &c., of extra(
ability. A pleader^ on the contrary, of powers far al
average, is not, as such, serviceable to the Public. He
wealth and credit for himself and his family ; but an;
advantage accruing from his superior ability, to the
chance to be his clients, is just so much loss to those he
to be opposed to : and which party is, on each occa
the right, must be regarded as an even chance. Hi
therefore, would be no loss to the Public ; only, to thos i
cular persons who might have benefited by his superior a
at their opponents' expense. It is not that advocates, ge i
are not useful to the Public. They are even necessary.
extraordinary ability in an advocate, is an advantage
himself and his friends. To the Public, the most desirabl i
is, that pleaders should be as equally matched as possil: I
that neither John Doe nor Kichard Roe should have any
tage independent of the goodness of his cause. ^ Extraoi

^ Reprinted in the Elements of Rhetoric,

• On thU it hm been remarked hy an mteHigent writer, llmti when '
ilea very sup^^tictr pleuiler^ in eiisteiKje, tbe Jeutb of one of tbeiii woi
mtiotial loai» And tbi» winiM hold g<x4, if the two were ojwayii engiiged
!•(# n<ff». But tli*t itf so fiu* fr^^m Itcitig nct^ieafHirilyj or usuudly, the ca:
mi \hm oontnf^, it m a com moo pmctiee for il party who has eiigngfl'

Hon for the benefit of the government at home (which
out something for them) that they complained of.

And this did not arise from comparative indifferei
welfare of onr colonial fellow-subjects; for the like
policy has been long pursued at home. We imported
inferior quality from Canada^ when better was to be
tenth part of the distance^ lest saw-mills in Canada^ anc
ships engaged in that trade^ should suffer a diminution
though the total value of them all put together did not
equal the annual loss sustained by the Public. And
hibited the refining of sugar in the sugar colonies^ and
import it in the most bulky and most perishable form
benefit of a few English sugar-bakers ; whose total pi
not probably amount to as many shillings as the na
pounds.

And the land-owners maintained^ till very lately, a n
against the bread-consumers, which amounted virtually
on every loaf, for the sake of keeping up rents.

'Other selfishness,' says Mr. Senior, in his Leci
Political Economy f ^ may be as intense, but none is so i
iog, because none so much tolerated, as that of a mc
claiming a vested interest in a public injury.' But, d<
many of these claimants persuaded themselves, as well
nation, that they were promoting the public good.

ESSAY XXIV. OF INNOVATIONS.

AS the birtlis of living creatures at first are ill-shapen, so are
all innovations, which are the births of time : yet, notwith-
standing, as those that first bring honour into their family are
commonly more worthy than most that succeed, so the first
precedent (if it be good) is seldom attained by imitation : for
ill, to man^s nature as it stands perverted, hath a natural motion,
strongest in continuance; but good, as a forced motion, strongest
at first. Surely every medicine is an innovation, and he that
will not apply new remedies must expect new evils : for time is
the greatest innovator ; and if time of course alters things to ^
the worse, and wisdom and counsel shall not alter them to the
better, what shall be the end ? It is true that what is settled
by custom, though it be not good, yet at least it is fit ; and
those things which have long gone together, are, as it were,
confederate with themselves ; whereas new things piece not so
well ; but, though they help by their utility, yet they trouble
by their inconformity f besides, they are like strangers, more
admired, and less favoured. All this is true, if time stood still;
which, contrariwise, moveth so round,' that a froward retention
of custom is as turbulent a thing as an innovation ; and they,
that reverence too much old times, are but a scorn to the new.
It were good, therefore, that men in their innovations, ivould
follow the example of time itself, which indeed innovateth greatly,
but quietly, and by degrees scarce to be perceived ; for other-
wise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for — ^and ever it m^^s
some, and pairs * others ; and he that is holpen takes it for a
fortune, and thanks the time ; and he that is hurt, for a wrongJ
and imputeth it to the author. It is good also not to tryl)

f

^ To. Far.

* Marks and points out eadi man of us to slaughter.' — Ben Jotuon,
' Inoonformity, Incongruity ; discorcUmce,

^ Bound. Sajpid, < Sir Roger heard them on a round trot.' — Addison.
^ Pair. To impair,

* ' No faith so fast,* quoth she, ' but flesh does paire.'
' Flesh may impaire,' quoth he, ' but reason can repaire.' ' — Spenser.
* What profiteth it to a man if he wynne all the world, and do peyringe to his
soul P*— Wickliff^s Translation of Mark ?iiL

experiments in States, except the necessity be urge
utility evident ; and well to beware, that it be the re
that draweth on the change, and not the desire of ch
pretendeth ^ the reformation: and lastly, that the novelt
it be not rejected, yet be held for a suspect ;^ and
Scripture saith, ' That we make a stand upon the anc
and then look about us, and discover what is the stn
right way, and so to walk in it/ "

ANTITHETA ON INNOVATIONS.

Pro.
' Omnis medicina innovatio.
' Every medicament is an innovation*

' Qui noYa remedia fogit, nova mala
operitar.

* Me who shunt new remedies must
expect new evils,'

'Novator maximos tempos: qnidni
igitnr tempos imitemor ?

'Time is the greai iwwvaitor; why
then not imitate Time V

' Horosa morom retentio, res torbo-
lenta est sdqoe ac novitas.

'Asiubhom adherence to old practices
breeds tumults no less than novelty,*

* Com per se res motentor in deterios,
si oonsilio in melios non motentor, qois
finis erit mali ?

'Since things spontaneously change
for the worse, if they be not by design
changed for the better, evils must accu-
mutate without end*

CONTBA.

' Nollos aoctor placet, prat
' One bows willingly to nc
but Time.*

' Nolla novitas absqoe inji
prsesentia oonvellit.

' Every novelty does some I
unsettles what is established,*

* Qoffi oso obtinoere, si non
saltern apta inter se sont

< Things that are settled hy
if not (Absolutely good, at leas
together*

' Qids novator tempos imitat
novationes ita insinoat, ot scnsoi

' Show me the innovator who
Time, thai slides in change
ceptibly.*

* Qood prster spem evenit,
dest, minos acoeptomi coi obc
molestom.

* W^t happens unexpected^

it pmjiisy attd ftnirf galling to I
it hurts:

* Pi-etimd. To put foncard or exh^t as a cover*
' Lest tbat hoflVTenly form, prefended
To lidliflb fklsebood, stmri} them/ — MiUon,
' Suspect. Something mitpicious* ' If the king ondii tke diBereiu^ i
awaj tbe au*p&ct:^^$uekiithg.
' Compare Jer. Ti i6.

ANNOTATIONS.
' Time is the greatest innovator J

When Bacon speaks of time as an ' innovator/ he might
have remarked^ by the way — what of course he well knew —
that though this is an allowable and convenient form of expres-
sion, it is not literally correct. Bishop Copleston, in the remark
already referred to in the notes on 'Delays/ terms the regarding
time as an agent, one of the commonest errors ; for, ' in reality
time does nothing and is nothing. We use it/ he goes on to
say, ' as a compendious expression for all those causes which
act slowly and imperceptibly. But, imless some positive cause
is in action, no change takes place in the lapse of one thousand
years ; as, for instance, in a drop of water enclosed in a cavity
of silex. The most intelligent writers are not free from this
illusion. For instance, Simond, in his Switzerland, speaking
of a mountain-scene, says — ' The quarry from which the mate-
rials of the bridge came, is just above your head, and the miners
are still at work : air, water, frost, weight, and time.' Thus, too,
those politicians who object to any positive enactments aflFecting
the Constitution, and who talk of the gentle operation of time,
and of our Constitution itself being the work of time, forget
that it is human agency all along which is the efficient cause.
Time does nothing.' Thus far Bishop Copleston.^

But we are so much influenced by our own use of language,
that, though no one can doubt, when the question is put before
him, that effects are produced not by time, but in time, we are
accustomed to represent time as armed with a scythe, and
mowing down all before him.

' New things are like strangers, more admired, and less
favoured,'

Bacon has omitted to notice, in reference to this point, what
nevertheless is well wori^ remarking as a curious circumstance,
that there are in most languages proverbial sayings respecting
it, apparently opposed to each other ; as for instance, that men

* ^RemaiM of Bishop Copleston,

overpowering mirar
troduction and sprr
looked the distinc
men do or do not

And the like
medicines^ for ir
with or without
of medicine^ wl
prejudices enli
discovered th
that people c
lated on a f
doctrine, wl
would soon
opposition

And it
opposed "
opposed
the mai
of the
one's (
he is
man
the]
pro
thf
cb

should at lengtli come to some house whose mhabitai
direct him, or to some more open spot from which
take a survey of the different roads, and observe whit
led. After proceeding a long time in this manner, he
prised to find a perfect uniformity in the country throu{
he passed, and to meet with no human being, nor come
of any habitation. He was, however, encouraged by ol
as he advanced, the prints of horses' feet, which indica
he was in no unfrequented track: these became con
more and more numerous the further he went, so as t
him a still increasing assurance of his being in the im
neighbourhood of some great road or populous village ;
accordingly paid the less anxious attention to the beai
the country, from being confident that he was in the rig
But still he saw neither house nor human creature; ;
length the recurrence of the same objects by the ro
opened his eyes to the fact, that all this time, misled
multitude of the turnings, he had been riding in a circl
that the footmarks, the sight of which had so cheerei
were iliuse of hk own horse ; their number^ of co\u*se, ii
ing with every circuit he took. Had he not fortunately
this discovery, perhaps he might have been riding there i
The truth of the tale (and we can asssure our readers tl
at least did not invent it) does not make it the ]e^ use
way of apologue : and the moral we would deduce from
that in many parts of the conduct of life, and not le
government and legislation, men are liable to follow t/u
of their own foot steps, — to set themselves an example, — t
flatter themaelves that they are going right, from thei
formity to their own precedent.

It is commonly and truly said, when any new and %
measure is proposed, that we cannot fully estimate the
Tcnienoes it may lead to in practice ; but we are convino
h even still more the case with any system which has lof^
in operation. The evils to which it may contribute, aj
obstacles it may present to the attainment of auy goc
partly overlooked, or lightly regarded, on account oi
familiarity, partly attributed to such other causes as p
really do eo-operate in producing the same effects, and i
along with the unavoidable alloys of human happineai

inconveniences from which no human policy can entirely exempt
ns. In some remote and nnimproved districts^ if you complain
of the streets of a town being dirty and dark^ as those of
London were for many ages^ the inhabitants tell you that the
nights are cloudy and the weather rainy : as for their streets,
they are just such as they have long been ; and the expedient of
paving and lighting has occurred to nobody. The ancient
Romans had, probably, no idea that a civilized community could
exist without slaves. That the same work can be done much
better and cheaper by freemen, and that their odious system
contained the seeds of the destruction of their empire, were
truths which, familiarized as they were to the then existing state
of society, they were not likely to suspect. ' K you allow of
no plundering,' said an astonished Mahratta chief to some Eng-
lish ofiScers, ' how is it possible for you to maintain such fine
armies as you bring into the field?' He and his ancestors,
time out of mind, had doubtless been folhwing their own foot^
steps in the established routine; and had accordingly never
dreamed that pillage is inexpedient as a source of revenue, or
even one that can possibly be dispensed with. * That is the way
it is always done. Sir;' or 'We always do so and so;' are the
answers generally returned by the vulgar to an inqxdry as to
the reason of any practice. Recent experiment, indeed, may
bring to light and often exa^erate the defects of a new system ;
but long familiarity blinds us to those very defects.*

And among the obstacles those have to encounter who are
advocating any kind of novelty, this is one : that every instance of
failure in the application of any new system is sure to be, by
most people, attributed to the system itself; while in the case
of an old and established system, any £ulure is either reckoned
a mere unavoidable accident, or is attributed to the individucU.

If, for instance, some crop turns out ill, under an established
system of agriculture, this failure is attributed either to the
weather, or else to unskilfulness in the individual farmer ; but
if it takes place under a new system of husbandry, it will usually
be taken as a decisive proof that the system itself is wrong.
So again, if a patient dies, under the routine-system of Medi-
cine, blame is laid, if there be any, on the individtuil practi-

^ London Beview, iSap.

tioner : but if a patient die who has been treata
to some new system^ this is likely to be taken ai
against the system itself. And so^ in other cases.

One practical consequence of the attachment of n
they have long been used to is^ that it is a great po
when there does exist need for a change, to have bro
9cme change, even though little or nothing of im
because we may look forward with cheering hope t
of the remedy — a removal of the newly introduced €
change far more easily to be brought about than the fi:
Alterations in any building are easily made while thi
wet. ' So it is in legislation and in all human affair
the most inconvenient and absurd laws are suffered
unchanged for successive generations, hardly an act
that any defects in it are not met by ' acts to amend^
next and in succeeding sessions.

' Those who rewiember the University of Oxford at
mencement of this century, when, in fact, it hardlj
the name of an university, — who remember with what
and after what long dclay^ the first statute for degree
tions was introduced — how palpable were the defects
statute, and how imperfectly it worked ^ — and, lastly ^ he
in comparison, these defects were, one by onCj rcme<
successive improvements from time to time introduce
persons must have profited little by experiencej if they \
the application of any remedy to any existing law or ii
that is in itself evil, for fear the remedy should not be
the first essay, as to meet their wishes.'^

* A froward retention of custom h as turbulent cts m
turn; and they that reverence old times too much *
scorn to the new/

To avoid the two opposite evils — the liability to aui
violent changes, and the adherence to established usa
tnoonvenient or mischievoua^^^ — to give the requisite st:
govemmenta and other institutions, without shutting
against iraprovemeiitj— this is a problem which both an

* Sees Kingdom of ChrUt, Appendk to Ebwj ii. note O, p, 3EJC;, 4tl

modem legislators have not well succeeded in solving. Some,
like the ancient Medes and Persians, and like Ljciirgus, have
attempted to prohibit all change; but those who constantly
appeal to the wisdom of their ancestors as a sufficient reason
for perpetuating everything these have established, forget two
things: first, that they cannot hope to persuade all suc-
cessive generations of men that there was once one genera-
tion of such infallible wisdom as to be entitled to control all
their descendants for ever ; which is to make the earth, in fact,
the possession not of the living, but of the dead; and, secondly,
that even supposing our ancestors gifted with such infallibility,
many cases must arise in which it may be reasonably doubted
whether they themselves would not have advocated, if living,
changes called for by altered circumstances. For instance, those
who denoted the southern quarter from meridies (noon) would
not have been so foolish as to retain that language had they
gone to live in a hemisphere where the sun at noon is in the
north. But, as Dr. Cooke Taylor remarks in The Bishop :
* An antiquated form, however perverted from its original pur-
pose, gratifies the lazy in their love of ease ; it saves them the
trouble of exchanging their old mumpsimus for the new sump-
simus: and new the sumpsimus must appear, though it be a
restoration; it averts the mortification of confessing error,
which is always so abhorrent to the self-satisfied stupidity of
those who grow old without gaining experience.'

* Vel quia nil rectum, nisi quod placnit sibi, ducnnt;
Vel quia turpe putant parere minoribus, et qu»
Imberbi didioere, senes perdenda fiiteri.'

It is to be observed, however, that in almost every depart-
ment of life, the evil that has very long existed will often be
less clearly perceived, and less complained of, than in propor-
tion to the actual extent of the evil.

' If you look to any department of government, or to any
parish or diocese, that has long been left to the management of
apathetic or inefficient persons, you will usually find that there
are few or no complaints; because complaints having long since
been found vain, will have long since ceased to be made. There
will be no great arrears of business undone, and of applications
unanswered; because business will not have been brought before
those who it is known will not transact it; nor applications

imdrained portion of the lake did at length burst 1
and considerable damage ensued; perhaps a fourth pi
would have taken place had things been left to 1
But they were wise in not deferring their operations ;
in the hope that matters would mend spontaneously^
saw that the evil was daily increasing. And after hi
gated in a great d^ree the calamity that did ensue,
measures to provide against the like in future.

' Stilly however^ we must expect to be told by m
sooner or later, matters will come right spontaneous
untouched ; — that, in time, though we cannot tell ho
period of extraordinary excitement is sure to be succ
one of comparative calm. In the meantime it is forj
what cost such spontaneous restoration of tranquillity i
purchased — ^how much the fire will have consumed
shall have burnt out of itself. The case is very similai
takes place in the natural body : the anguish of acut«
mation, when left to itself, is succeeded by the calm of
fication : a limb is amputated, or drops off; and the bo
no longer the whole body — is restored to a temporary
the expense of a mutiJationp Who can say that a lai
portion of those who are now irrecoverably ^euatixl f
Church, might not have been at this moment sound n
of it, had timely steps been taken, not by any departu
the principles of our Ueformers, but by following more
the track they marked out for us ?'

It is true, that whatever is established and already
has a presumption on its side ; that is, the burden of p
on those who propose a change. No one is called on
reasons against any alteration, till same reasons ha'
offered for it* But the deference which is thus claimed
laws and institutions is sometimes extended (through th
giiity of language — the use of * old ' for * ancient ^ to \
called ' the good old times ;' as if the world had forme:
older, instead of youngerj than it ia now. But it is ]
that the advantage possessed by old men — that of loiig es
— must belong to the present age more than to any prece*

I Sot Slamenis qf Logic^ Appeodii.

8 %

W, WUX/UJ

speaks of^ as attaching to those ^ who too much reverence old
times ?' To say that no changes shall take place is to talk
idly. We might as well pretend to control the motions of the
earth. To resolve that none shall take place except what are
undesigned and accidental^ is to resolve that though a clock
may gain or lose indefinitely, at least we will take care that it
shall never be regulated. ' If time ' (to use Bacon's warning
words) ^alters things to the worse^ and wisdom and counsel
>hall not alter them to the better^ what shall be the end V

^ It were good that men, in their innovations, would follow the
example of Time itself, which indeed innovateth greatly, but
quietly and by degrees scarce to be perceived,*

There is no more striking instance of the silent and imper->
ceptible changes brought about by what is called ' Time^' than
that of a language becoming dead. To point out the precise
period at which Greek or Latin ceased to be a living language^
would be as impossible as to say when a man becomes old.
And much confusion of thought and many important practical
results arise from not attending to this. For example^ many-
persons have never reflected on the circumstance that one of
the earliest translations of the Scriptures into a vernacular
tongue was made by the Church of Rome. The Latin Vulgate
was so called from its being in the vulgar, i.e. the popular
language then spoken in Italy and the neighbouring countries ;
and that version was evidently made on purpose that the Scrip-
tures might be intelligibly read by, or read to, the mass of the
people. But gradually and imperceptibly Latin was superseded
by the languages derived from it — Italian, Spanish, and French,
— while the Scriptures were still left in Latin : and when it was
proposed to translate them into modem tongues, this was re-
garded as a perilous innovation, though it is plain that the real
innovation was that which had taken place imperceptibly, since
the very object proposed by the Vulgate-version was, that the
Scriptures might not be left in an unknown tongue. Yet we
meet with many among the fiercest declaimers against the
Church of Rome, who earnestly deprecate any the slightest
changes in our authorized version^ and cannot endure even the

gradual substitution of other words for such as h
obsolete^ for fear of ' unsettling men's minds/ It b
to them that it was this very dread that kept
tnres in the Latin tongue^ when that gradually beet
language.

It has been suggested in a popular Periodical^ t
mass of the People had been habitual readers of th
Latin might have never become a dead language. N*
printing had been in use in those days^ and the Pe<
rally had had as ready access to cheap Bibles as
would have retarded and modified the chaoge of the
JBut the case which is adduced as parallel is very far fi
such : namely^ the stability given to our language b;
of our English version. For^ it ought not to have
gotten that our country was not, like Italy — subjug
overrun (subsequently to the translation of the Bible) 1
rous tribes speaking a difierent language. As it is, 1
indeed be no doubt that our Authorized Version^
Prayer-book (and, in a minor degree^ Shakespcre ant
have contributed to give some fixedness to our langui
after all, the changes that have actually taken place i
greater than perhaps some persons would at first sight
For, though the words in our Bible and Prayer-boo
have become wholly obsolete, are but few, the number
times greater, of words which, though still in common i
greatly changed their meaning : such as ' conversatioi
Tenient/ 'carriage,* (Acts xii. 15) ^prevent/ 'rea
' lively/ ' incomprehensible/ those most important wordi
and 'will,' and many others/ And words which hi
changed their meaning are, of course ^ ranch more 1
perplex and bewilder the reader, than those entirely on
These latter only leave him in darkness ; the others
him by a false light.

Universally, the removal at once of the accumulate
gradually produced in a very long time^ is apt to st

^^ Bkhdp Hinds on the Authorized Version ; and ako & inoet v
V<ie^nhT^ uf OhtohU M^onh in our veraon, by iht Kev, Mr. Booker

proverb — 'A tile in time saves nine/ A house mi
ages if some very small repairs and alterations ai
made from time to time as they are needed ; when
is suffered to go on unheeded^ it may become neces
down and rebuild the whole house. The longer {
reform is delayed^ the greater and the more diffieu
more sadden, and the more dangerous and unsettl
be. And then^ ^haps^ those who had caused thi
their pertinacious resistance to any change at all^ wi
these evils — evils brought on by themselves — in justi
their conduct. If they would have allowed a few br<
on the roof to be at once replaced by new ones^ tl
would not have rotted, nor the walls, in consequen
nor would the house have thence needed to be demd
rebuilt.

Most wise^ therefore, is Bacon's admonition^ to
great innovator Time, by vigilantly watching for, and
counteracting, the first small insidious approaches of <
introducing gradually, from time to time, such small
mcnts (individually small, but collectively great) as tl
be room for, and which will prevent the necessity of vi
sweeping reformations,

'// is good not to try expmments in Elates^ except the
be urgent, or the utility evident ; and welt to bewm
be the reformation that draweth on the change^ ati
desire of change that pretendetk the reformation/

It hsm been above remarked that most men have
for change, as changej in what concerns the seriouB b
life. True it ia^ that great and eudden and violent cl
take place — that ancient institutions have been reckle
thrown — that sanguinary revolutions have taken placf
Biiccessionj and that new schemeSj often the most
eitravagant, both in civil and religious matters^ have b
and again introduced. We need not seek far to find
tlat have had, within the memory of persons now 1
leas than nine or ten perfectly distinct systems of gO'
But no changes of this kind ever originate in the mei
change for iti oum sake. Never do men adopt a ne^

about introducing some different^ and^ perhaps^ grei
its place. It is seldom very difficult to dam up a i
incominodes us; only we should remember that i
force for itself a new channel^ or else spread o)
unwholesome marsh. The evils of contested ele
bribery^ the intimidation^ and the deception which
give rise to^ are undeniable; and they would be
cured by suppressing the House of Commons alt(
making the seats in it hereditary; but we should not
by the exchange. There are evils belonging specifi
pure monarchy^ and to an oligarchy^ and to a demo
to a mixed government : and a change in the form <
ment would always remedy one class of evils^ and
another. And under all governments^ civil and ecc
there are evils arising firom the occasional incapacit;
conduct of those to whom power is entrusted; ev
might be at once remedied by introducing the far gr
of anarchy^ and leaving every man to 'do as is right ii
eyes.' There are inconveniences^ again^ firom being
by fixed laws^ which must always bear hard on some ]
cases ; but we should be no gainers by leaving every
act like a Turkish cadi^ entirely at his own discretio:
the like holds good in all departments of life. Ti
careless and inefficient clergymen : abolish endowme
resort to what is called the ' voluntary system/ and
have no inactive ministers ; only, ' preaching ' will, ;
observes, ' become a mode of begging : and a Ministc
flock con Slats of persons all engaged in some one bad
such as smugglers, rebels, slave-dealers, or wreck*
find that he is a man hired to k^sp their conscien
in a wrong course. This also may be cured by pn
the ministers receiving any contributions; only, 1
confine the ministry to men of fortune. And so
r^t.

One of the greatest evils produced by the tliorou
Reformer is that the alarm which he excites is t1
atrerigthener of the ultra-conservative principle, ' See
shall come to if we listen to these lovers of change V
Dtie of the infinite number of cases in which evils are
tin by their contraries : iu shorty by a rc-action.

ESSAY XXV. OF DISPATCR

AFFECTED dispatch is one of the most dangeroi
business that can be : it is like that which the
call predigestion^ or hasty digestion^ which is sure
body full of crudities^ and secret seeds of diseases ;
measure not dispatch by the time of sittings but by tl
ment of the business : and as in races it is not the L
or high lift^ that makes the speedy so in business^ tl
close to the matter^ and not taking of it too mud
procureth dispatch. It is the care of some^ only tc
speedily for the time^ or to contrive some false
business^ because^ they may seem men of dispatch: bu
thing to abbreviate by contracting^ another by cutting
business so handled at several sittings or meetings g
monly backward and forward in an unsteady manner,
a wise man that had it for a by-word^ when he saw m
to a conclusion^ ^ Stay a little^ that we may make as
Booner/ ^

Oil the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing * ft
tbe measure of business, as moucy is of wares ; and b
bought at a dear hand where there is small dispatcl
Spartans and Spaniards have been noted to be of small
' Mi veoga la muerte de Spagtia/ ^ for then it will be f
loQg in coming.

GWe good heating to those that give the first infon
boainess ; and rather direct them in the beginning tli
nipt them in the continuance of their speeches ; for h
p^t out of his own order will go forward and back wan
inore tedious while he waits upon his memory j than
bave been if he had gone on in his own course. But s
^t IS aeeti that the moderator is more troublesome than
Iterations* are commonly loss of time; but there u

^ Bmwi. That; in order that, * The multitude rebuked tbein, i
'wjiild hol^ tbo^u, peace*'— Jfa/^. m^. 31-
^ Siir Atnyuit Pftuiet., * ' May mj deatb csome fro

IWnakfti* Sf^etUicn.

gain of time as to iterate often the state of the question ; for it
ehaseth away many a frivolous speech as it is coming forth.
Long and curious speeches are as fit for dispatch as a robe or
mantle with a long train is for a race. Prefaces^ and passages/
and excusations/ and other speeches of reference to the person,
are great wastes of time ; and though they seem to proceed of'
modesty, they are bravery/ Yet beware of being too material *
when there is any impediment or obstruction in men^s wills ;
for pre-occupation of mind ever requireth pre&ce of speech,
like a fomentation to make the unguent enter.

Above all things, order and distribution, and singling out of
parts, is the life of dispatch, so as the distribution be not too
subtle ; for he that doth not divide will never enter well into
business, and he that divideth too much will never come out of
it clearly. To chuse time is to save time ; and an unseason-
able motion is but beating the air. There be three parts of
business — the preparation, the debate, or examination, and the
perfection, — whereof, if you look for dispatch, let the middle
only be the work of many, and the first and last the work of
few. The proceeding upon somewhat conceived in writing
doth for the most part facilitate dispatch ; for though it should
be wholly rejected, yet that negative is more pregnant of di-
rection than an indefinite, as ashes are more generative than
dust.

Introdueiofy approaches,

* And with his p<nnted dart
Explores the Dearest pottage to her heart.'
' Excusations. Excuses ; apologiet. ' The pTmishment of his excusaUons* — •
JBrofon,

8 Of. From. *\ haye reoeiyed of the Lord that whidi I also deliyered onto
you.' — I Cor, xi. 23. 'A hlow whose yiolenoe grew not of ftiry, not q/* strength. -
or of strength proceeding of fury.' — Sidney.

* Brayery. Boosting. 'For a hranery npoQ this occasion of power they
crowned their new king in Dahlin.' — Bacon.
» Material Fvll qf matter,

* A material iboU — Shakespere.
* His speech eyen charmed his cares.
So order'd, so nio^ma^.'— Chapman's yer«on of the 24th IUad„

ANNOTATIONS.

' Thne is the measure of business.' 'To chus

save time, and unseasonable motion is but beating

Some persons are what is called ^ slow and sure ^
iSy in cases that will admit of leisurely deliberatio
they require so much time for forming a right judg
devising right plans^ that in cases where promptitud
for, they utterly fEol. Buonaparte used to say^ that
principal requisites for a general^ was, an accurate <
of time ; for if your adversary can bring a powerfu
attack a certain post ten minutes sooner than you can
a 8u£Scient supporting force^ you are beaten^ even t
the rest of your plans be never so good.

So also^ if you are overtaken by an inundation^ tei
spent in deciding on the best road for escaping^ n
escape impossible.

Some again^ are admirable at a bright thoiight —
guess — an ingenious scheme hit off on the spur of the
butj either will not give themselves time for quiet del
in cases where there is no hurry ^ or cannot deliberate
purpose. They can shoot fly in g, but cannot take deli be

And some again there are who delay and delibers
promptitude is essential, and make up for this by taking
step when they have plenty of time before them i or
bold first, and prudent afterwards ; first admiDistering tl
dose J and then, when the step cannot be re-called, care
amining the patient's tongue and pulse.

It is worth remarking, that many persons are o\
disposition as to be nearly incapable of remainifig in t
any point that is not wholly uninteresting to then:
speedily make up their minds on each question^ and
some conclusion J whether there are any good grounds
not. And judging — as men are apt to do^ in all ma
othcra, from themselveSj they usually discredit the mos
assurances of any one who professes to be in a state
on some question ; taking for granted that if you do i
their opinion, you must be of the opposite.

not the only requisite in foodj — that a certain degn
^iofi of the stomach is required to enable it to act '
powerSj — aud that it is for this reason hay or stn
given to horses as well aa com^ in order to supply
sary bulk. Something analogous to this takes
respect to the generality of mindSj — which are ii
thoroughly digesting and assimilating what is presents
in a very small compass/^ Many a one is capable i
that instruction from a moderate- sized volume^ whicl
not receive from a very small pamphletj even more
ously written J and containing everything that is to th
It is necessary that the attention should be detained
tain time on the subject ; aud persons of uuphilosoph
though they can attend to what they read or hear, are
dwell upon it in the way of subsequent meditation.^

' Thte dispatch k a rich thing/

It is a rare and admirable thing wheo a man is abl
discern which eases admit^ and which not, of calm delil
and also to be able to meet both in a suitable manner,
character is most graphically described by Thucydide
account of Themiatoclea i who, according to him, was s
none in forming his plans on cautious inquiry and cah
tioDj when circumstance allowed him, and yet excel
men in hitting off some device to meet some sudden em

If you cannot find a counsellor who combines these t
of qualification (which is a thing not to be calculated
should seek for some of each sort; one, to devise anc
measures that will admit of delay ; and another, to make
guesses J and suggest sudden expedients. A bow, su
approved by our modern toxophilites, must be backed—
made of two slips of wood glued together ; one a ver
but somewhat brittle wood ; the other much less elf
^eiy tm^ffk. The one gives the requisite springs the oth
Jt from breaking. If you have two such counsellors as
spoken of, you are provided with a backed bow»

And if you yourself are of one of the two above- m
characters — the slow-hound or the grey-hound — you

especially provide yourself with an adviser of the opposite class :
one to give you warning of dangers and obstacles^ and to cau-
tion you against precipitate decisions^ if that be your tendency ;
or one to make guesses^ and suggest expedients^ if you are one
of the slow and sure.

Those who are clever [in the proper sense — i.e. quick'] are
apt to be so proud of it as to disdain taking time for cautious
inquiry and deliberation ; and those of the opposite class are
perhaps no less likely to pride themselves on their cautious
wisdom. But these latter will often^ in practice^ obtain this
advantage over those they are opposed to — that they will defeat
them without direct opposition^ by merely asking for postpone-
ment and reconsideration^ in cases where (as Bacon expresses
it) ' not to decide, is to decide.' If you defer sowing a field till
the seedtime is past, you have decided against sowing it. K
you carry the motion that a Bill be read a second time this day
six months, you have thrown it out.

ESSAY XXVI. OF SEEMING Wli

IT hath been an opinion^ that the French are wiser
seem^ and the Spaniards seem wiser than they
howsoever it be between nations^ certainly it is so bet
and man; for^ as the Apostle saith of godliness^ ^ Havi
of godliness^ but denying the power thereof/' — so
there are^ in points of wisdom and sufficiency/ that d
or little, very solemnly^ Magno conatu nugas.* It is a :
things and fit for a satire to persons of judgment^ to
shifts these formalists have^ and what prospectives^
superficies to seem body that hath depth and bulk. I
so close and reserved, as they will not show their wan
a dark light, and seem always to keep back somewl
when they know within themselves they speak of that
not well know, would nevertheless seem to others to
that which they may not well speak. Some help th
with cotmtenance and gesture, and are wise by signs ; i
saith of Fiso,^.that when be answered him he fetched oi
brows up to hia forehead, and bent the other down to 1:
* RespondeSj altcro ad &ontem sublato^ altero ad men
presso supercilioj cnidelitatem tibi non plaoere/ Son
to bear' it by speaking a great word, and being percj
and go on^ and take by admittance that which they
make good. Some, whatsoever is beyond their reach, ti
to despise, or make light of it^ as impertinent^ or curia
so would have their ignorance seem judgment. Some a

* trifles with great effort.

' They speke of Alba^en and VLtcUon,
Of qudnte mimmrs, and of protpeciitesJ^Ch&tteaf,

* In Ft*. 6,

* Bear. To manage; to eo^nirwe.

' Well direct her bow 'tj* bort to hear iW — Skakeip^re,
^ Impertmadtp IrreUvaiU.

' Withotik the which, this atory
Were moAt imperHnetU^'^Shaketp^T'e.

without a difference^' and commonly by amasing men with a
subtlety^ blanch^ the matter ; of whom A. Gellius saith^ ' Homi-
nem delirum^ qui verborum minutiis rerum frangit pondera/'
Of which kind also Plato, in his FrotagoraSy bringeth in Pro-
dicus in scom^ and maketh him make a speech that consisteth
of distinctions from the beginning to the end. Generally, such
men, in all deliberations, find ease to be of the negative side,
and affect a credit to object and foretell difficulties ; for when
propositions are denied, there is an end of them ; but if they be
allowed, it requireth a new work ; which false point of wisdom
is the bane of business. To conclude, there is no decaying
merchant, or inward beggar,' hath so many tricks to uphold the
credit of their wealth, aa these empty persons have to maintain
the credit of their sufficiency. Seeming wise men may make
shift to get opinion ; but let no man chuse them for employ-
ment ; for, certainly, you were better take for business a man
somewhat absurd than over-formal.

ANNOTATIONS.

' Seeming loise men may make shift to get opinion.*

There is a way in which some men seem, to themselves, and
often to others also, to be much wiser than they are ; by acting
as a wise man does, only, on wrong occasions, and altogether
imder different circumstances. Such a man has heard that it
is a wise thing to be neither too daring nor too timid ; neither
too suspicious nor too confiding ; too hasty nor too slow, &c.,

^ IMfferenoe. A tvhtle duHnction,

* Blanch. To evade, * A man horribly cheats his own soul, who upon any pre-
tence whatever, or under any temptation, forsakes or blanches the true principles
of reb'gion.' — Goodman's Conference,

' * A senseless man who fritters away weighty matters by trifling with worda.*
(This expression not in Aulus Gellius. A passage like it occurs in Quintilian — •

ix. I.)

* Plato, Protaff, i. 337.

' Inward beggar. One eeerethf a bankrupt.

'To the sight unfdd
His secret gems, and all the inward goW^-Zatudowne.

and he ventures and holds back^ trusts and distrv
and delays^ spends and spares^ &c.^ just in the same
a wise man does, — only, he is venturesome where
danger, and cautious where there is none ; hasty wh
no cause, and dilatory when everything turns oi
trusting those unworthy of confidence, and suspic
trustworthy ; parsimonious towards worthy objects, i
towards the worthless ; &c.

Such a character may be called ' the reflection of a
He is the figure of a wise man shown by a mirror ; ^
exact representation, except that it is left-handed.

The German child's-story of Hans und Grettel,
other childish tales, contains, under a surface of me
an instructive picture of real life. Hans stuck a kn
sleeve, having been told that was the proper place for tl
and put a kid in his pocket, because that was the pi
knife, &c.

It may be said, almost without qualification, that tru
consists in the ready and accurate perception of f
Without the former quality, knowledge of the past
structive ; without the latterj it is deceptive.

One way in which many a mnu aims at and pri
wisdom, who 'has it not in bim/ is this: he has he
' the middle course is always the best -/ that * extremes i
avoided/ &c. ; and so he endeavours in all cases to ke<
equal distance from the most opposite parties. As
served in ' Annotation * the second on Essay XI*, he ^
quite agree, nor very widely disagree with either : and
almost always each party is right in somelhing^ he m
irtdh on both sides ; and while afraid of being guided 1
party, he is in fact guided by both» His mimic wisd
sists in sliding alternately towards each extreme. Bu
orbit be a true circle, independent of the eccentric
orbits of others, this will make sundry nodes with theiri
times falling within and sometimefl without the same (
orbit. That is, in some points you will approach nean
one than to the other ; in some you will wholly agree '
party, and in some with another ^ in some you wi
equally from both ; and in some you will even go furtl
the one party than the opposite one does* For, true

Essay xxvi.]

Annotations.

locked, and which had always been supposed full oi
tell you the truth/ said he, ' the chest is empty: bul
the secret, the secret will keep you.'

As to this, and other tricks by which men (in 1
phrase) ' puflF themselves,' they might have been int
Bacon in the essay ' On Cunning/ But it is wort
that those who assume an imposing demeanour, a
puff themselves off for something beyond what the
often succeed), are, not un&equently, as much unch
some, as they are over-rated by others. For, as a
cording to what Bacon says in the essay ' On Disc
keeping back some knowledge which he is believed 1
•may gain credit for knowing something of which h<
ignorant, so, if he is once or twice detected in pret
know what he does not, he is likely to be set down :
pretender, and as ignorant of what he does know.

' Silver g^t will often pan
Either for gold or else for brass.' ^

' You were better take for business a man somewhat
than over-formal/

By 'absurd^ Bacon probably means what we ex
' iniM>nsiderat6 ;' what the French call ' etourdi/

The ' over-formal" often impedCj and sometimes J
boBioeas by a dilatory, tedious, circtiitoiia, and (wha
loquial language is called) fussy way of conducting the
transactions. They have been compared to a dog, wliic
lie down till he has made three circuits round the spot

^ Bob Froi>arbt and FfecfpU, aa Copy-plecea for National Scho

( ESSAY XXVII. OF FRIENDSHIP.

IT had been Tiar3~loiFKimri;hat" spate it, to have put more
truth and untruth together in few words, than in that speech,
' Whosoever is delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a
god j^ * for it is most true, that a natural and secret hatred and
aversation towards ' society, in any man, hath somewhat of the
savage beast ; but it is most untrue, that it should have any
character at all of the divine nature, except * it proceed, not out
of a pleasure in solitude, but out of a love and desire to sequester
a man's self for a higher conversation ; * such as is found to
have been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathens — as *
Epimenides, the Candian ; Numa, the Roman ; Empedocles, the
Sicilian ; and Apollonius, of Tyana ; and truly, and really, in
divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of the Church.
But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it ex-
tendeth; for a crowd is not company, and faces are but a
gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there
is no love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little : ' Magna
civitas, magna solitudo,' ^ — because in a great town friends are
scattered, so that there is not that fellowship, for the most part,
which is in less neighbourhoods ; but we may go farther, and
affirm most truly, that it is a mere* and miserable solitude to
want true friends, without which the world is but a wilderness ;
and, even in this scene also of soUtude, whosoever, in the frame
of his nature and affections, is unfit for friendship, he taketh it
of the beast, and not from humanity.'

A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge of
the frilness of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause

^ Aristotle, JEth,, B. 8.

^ Aversation towards. Aversion to, * There is such a general ctversation in
human nature towards contempt, that there is scarcely anything more exasperat-
ing.' — Government of the Tongue,

' Except. Unless, * Except a man he horn again, he cannot see the kingdom
of God.'— -tToA^ iii. 3.

^ Conversation. Course of life. * What manner of persons ought we to he ia
all holy conversation and godliness.' — 2 Fet, iii.

* • A great city, a gfreat solitude.'

• Mere. Absolute. See * Merely,' page 22.

' Humanity. BMnum nature, * Look to thyself; reach not heyond humanity^*
— 5ir Philip Sidney.

Esaay xivii.] Of FHendithip,

and induce. We know diseases of stoppings and e
are the most dangerous in the body ; and it is not m
wise in the mind : you may take sarza* to open the
to open the spleen, flower of sulphur for the lungSj
for the brain; but no receipt openeth the heart \
friendj to whom you may impart grieftj joysj fears, 1
picions, counsels^ and whatsoever lieth upon the heart
it, in a kind of ciril shrift or confession.

It is a strange thing to observe how high a rate g
and monarchs do set upon this fruit of friendship m
speak^ — so great^ as' they purchase it many times at 1
of their own safety and greatness ; for princes^ in reg
distance of their fortune from that of their subjects ant
cannot gather this fruity except, to make themselvt
thereof, they raise some persons to be as it were co
and almost equals to themselves, which many times s^
inconvenience. The modern languages give unto sue
the name of favourites, or privadoes, — as if it were
grace or conversation ; but the B^man name attainetl
use and cause thereof, naming them ^participea curar
it is that which tieth the knot: and we see plainly
hath been done, not by weak and passionate princes
by the wisest and most politic that ever reigned, who h; .
times joined to themselves some of their servants, w! ;
themselves have called friends, and allowed others li
call them in the same manner, using the word which h
between private men*
f^^^Jj. Sylla, when he commanded Eome, raised Pom;
I inmamed The Great, to that height that Poropey vaui i
\ self for Sylla^s over- match ; for when he had carried th ■
ship for a friend of his, against the pursuit of Sylla, i
Sylla did a little resent thereat, and began to spfiti
Pompey turned upon him again, and in effect bade
quiet; for that more men adored the sun rising thai

' SttTza. SarMapanlla, ' Sorm u both A tree and an berb.' — Airm
' A*, That. See page 2^,

* Sorteth. To result s to ifftf* in.

' SoH how it wiU,
I Bhall have gold for all.' — Shakesp^re,

* ' Piulidpaton in cjur cares/

284 Of Friendship. pSssay xxvii.

setting.* With Julius Caesar^ Decimus Brutus had obtained
that interest^ as he set him down in his testament for heir in re-
mainder after his nephew ; and this was the man that had power
with him to draw him forth to his death; for when Caesar
would have discharged the senate^ in regard of some ill presages,
and especially a dream of Calpumia, this man lifted him gently
by the arm out of his chair, telling him he hoped he would not
dismiss the senate till his wife had dreamed a better dream ;*
and it seemed his favour was so great, as Antonius, in a letter,
which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero^s Philippics, called
him ' venefica,^ witch, — as if he had enchanted Casar.' Augustus
raised Agrippa, though of mean birth, to that height, as,^ when
he consulted with Maecenas about the marriage of his daughter
Julia, Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, that he must either
marry his daughter to Agrippa, or take away his life, — there
was no third way, he had made him so great. With Tiberius
Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to that height as they two were
termed and reckoned as a pair of friends. Tiberius, in a letter
to him, saith, 'Haec pro amicitia nostra non occultavi/' and
the whole senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as to a
goddess, in respect of the great deamess* of friendship between
them two. The like, or more, was between Septimus Severus
and Flautianus; for he forced his eldest son to marry the
daughter of Flautianus, and would often maintain Flautianus
in doing affronts to his son ; and did write also, in a letter to the
senate, by these words,' ^ I love the man so well, as I wish he
may over-live* me.' Now, if these princes had been as a Trajan,
or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this had
proceeded oV an abundant goodness of nature : but being men
so wise, of such strength and severity of mind, and so extreme
lovers of themselves, as all these were, it proveth, most plainly,
that they found their own felicity, though as great as ever hap-
pened to mortal men, but as a half piece, except they might

" Plut Vit, Pomp. 19. 2 Plot. Vit J. Cos. 64.

' Cic Philip, xiii. 11. ^ As. Thixt. See page 23.

* ' On acoonnt of our friendship, I have not concealed these things.' — ^Tacit.
Ann. iv. 40.

* Deamess. Fondness, * He must profess aU the decwness and friendship.' —
South,

^ Dion Cass. Ixxv.

s Overlive. Survive, ' MuffldomSy who showed a mind not to overlive Tronu,
prevailed.*— fiiir P. Sidney, • Of. From, See pa^s 2 JO.

Esaay xxvii.] Of Friendship,

have a friend to make it entire; and yet^ which ^ i
were princes that had wives, sons, nephews, yet all
not supply the comfort of friendship.

It is not to be foi^tten what Comineus obse:
first master, Duke Charles the Hardy — namely, thi
communicate' his secrets with none; and, least c
secrets which troubled him most. Whereupon h
and saith, that towards his latter time, that closeness
and a little perish' his understanding. Surely Comi
have made the same judgment also, if it had pleat
his second master, Louis XI., whose closeness was
tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras is dark, but
ne edito ' — eat not the heart.* Certainly, if a man
it a hard phrase, those that want friends to open
unto, are cannibals of their own hearts ; but one thi
admirable (wherewith I will conclude this first fruit off
wUch is, that this communicating of a man's self to
works two contrary effects, for it redoubleth joys, ai
griefs in halfs ; for there is no man that imparteth 1
hia friend, but he joyeth the more, and no man that
Ms griefe to his friend, but he grieveth the less. So
ill truth, of operation upon a man's mind of like virt
alchymista use to attribute to their stone for man's 1
it worketh all contrary effects, but still to the good ai
of nature^ But yet, without praying in aid' of alchym
is a manifest ima^e of this in the ordinary course o
forj ill bodies, union strengtheneth and cherisheth an
action, and, on the other side, weakeueth and dulletb a
impression — and even so is it of * minds*

* T^lilch. Wh^,— Chaucer.

* Commmdcatf} mith. Commttnicai^ fa ; impart i&, ' Ha commun
tboughls only vrith the Lord Digby/ — Clarendony

■ Periali, To cause to decay : io destroy.

' Thy flinty heart, more bard than thflj,
Might In thy palace jparurA, Margaret/ — Shaketpen
' HisUtrch, De Edueat Fuer. 17.

* Pray in aid. To be an adpocaie fir» (A term in kw for oUli
belp wbo has interwb in a cause,)

' You shall find
A conqueror timt wiE pra^ im aid for kiiidncse)
When h« for grace b kneeled to/ — Shak^rpere,
* Of. WUk regard to.

* ThiB qnarrel Is not now of feme and tribute.
But for your own republick/ — Ben JoMon^

The second firuit of fiiendship is healthful and sovereign for
the understandings as the first is for the affections ; for friend-
ship maketh indeed a fair day in the affections from storm and
tempests^ but it maketh daylight in the understandings out of
darkness and confusion of thoughts. Neither is this to be
undtotood only of faithful counsel^ which a man receiveth from
his Mend ; but before you come to that^ certain it is, that who-
soever^ hath his mind fraught with many thoughts^ his wits and
understanding do clarify and break up, in the communicating
and discoursing with another; he tosseth his thoughts more
easily — he marshalleth them more orderly — ^he seeth how they
look when they are turned into words — finally^ he waxeth' wiser
than himself; and that more by an hour's discourse than by a
day's meditation. It was well said by Thenustocles to the king
of Persia^ ' That speech was like cloth of Arras^ opened and
put abroad" — whereby the imagery doth appear in figure,
whereas in thoughts they lie but as in packs. Neither is this
second fruit of friendships in opening the understandings re-
strained^ only to such fiiends as are able to give a man counsel
(they indeed are best), but even without that a man leameth of
himself, and bringeth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth
his wits as against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a
man were^ better relate himself to a statue or picture, than to
suffer his thoughts to pass in smother.'

Add now, to make this second fruit of firiendship complete,
that other point which lieth more open, and faUeth within

^ Whosoever. Whoever, ' JFhosoever hath Christ for his friend shall be sure
of oomisel; and whoeoever is his own friend wHX be sure to obey iL'-^Souik,
* Wai. To grow ; to become.

' I^atore, crescent, does not grow alone
In thews and bulk ; bat as this temple wcucee.
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withaL' — Shakespere,
» Hut. VU. Themut. 28.

^ Restrained. Limited ; confined ; reetrieted. * Upon what ground can a man
promise himself a ftitore repentance who cannot promise himself a futority; whose
life is so restrained to the present that it cannot secure to itself the reveraioa of the
very next moment.'— /Sicm^^
» Were. Sad,

* I were best not call.' — SkaJcetpere,
' Smother (not used as a noun.) A etaie of being stifled,
< Then must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother.' — Shakespere.

a

288 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii.

asking counsel in one business of one man^ and in another
business of another man ; it is as well (that is to say^ better^
perhaps^ than if he asked none at all)^ but he runneth two
dangers ; one^ that he shall not be faithiuUy counselled — for it
is a rare things except it be from a perfect and entire friend^ to
have counsel given, but such as shall be bowed and crooked^ to
some ends which he hath that giveth it ; the other^ that he shall
have counsel given^ hurtful and unsafe (though with good
meaning)^ and mixed partly of mischief and partly of remedy —
even as if you would call a physician^ that is thought good for
the cure of the disease you complain of^ but is unacquainted
with your body, — ^and therefore, may put you in a way for
present cure, but overthroweth your health in some other kind,
and so cure the disease^ and kill the patient : but a friend, that
is whoUy acquainted with a man's estate,' will beware, by further-
ing any present business, how he dasheth upon other incon-
venience, — and, therefore, rest not upon scattered counsels, for
they will rather distract and mislead than settle and direct.

After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affec-
tions and support of the judgment), followeth the last fruity
which is, like the pomegranate, full of many kernels — ^I mean^
aid and bearing a part in all actions and occasions. Here, the
best way to represent to life the manifold use of friendship, is
to cast and see how many things there are which a man cannot
do himself, and then it will appear that it was a sparing speech
of the ancients, to say ' that a friend is another himself,' for that
a friend is far more than himself. Men have their time, and
die many times in desire of some things which they principally
take to heart ; the bestowing of a child, the finishing of a work^
or the like. If a man have a true friend, he may rest almost
secure that the care of those things will continue after him ;
BO that a man hath, as it were, two lives in his desires. A
man hath a body, and that body is confined to a place ; bat
where friendship is, all offices of life are, as it were, granted to
him and his deputy ; for he may exercise them by his friend.
How many things are there which a man cannot, with any

* Crook. To pervert. See page 241.
' Estate. State; condition : eircunutanees.
' Hifl letter there
Win show you his eeiate.' — Shakeepere.

Sssay xxvii.]

Annotations.

face or comeliness^ say or do himself? A man can
liis own merits with modesty, mnch less extol \
cannot sometimes stoop to supplicate or beg, and ;
the like : but all these things are graceful in a fri
wliicli are blushing in a man^s own. So, again, a i
hatli many proper^ relations which he cannot put <
cannot speak to his son but as a father ; to his ^
husband : to his enemy but upon terms : whereas a
speak as the case requires, and not as it sortet
person. But to enumerate these things were endl
given the rule, where a man cannot fitly play his o
he have not a friend, he may quit the stage.

ANTITHETA ON FRIENDSHIP.

Pro.
' Peasima BoUtudo, non yeras habere
amicitias.

* The wont solUude is to have no real
friendships,'

* Digna mals fidei ultio, axnidtiU
privarL

' To be deprived qffriemU is a _yU
reward of faithIsMsneaM^

CONTBA.

'Qni amicitias arctas
necessitates fdbi imponit.

' He who forms close f
poses on himself new duii

' Animi imbeciUi est, pai

' It iV the tnark of fi J

go shares tA one'tforinni

ANNOTATIONS.

' It had been hard for Mm that 3pake if to have put
and' untruth together in few words than in that
' Whosoever w delighted in solitude w either a wi
a god/ '

Aristotle had been so umduly and absurdly worship
Eacou's time, that it was not inexcusable to be carric
the ebb-tide, and unduly to disparage him. But, in tnit

^ PtDjKJT. Teimliar.

' Faulta proper to himself/— 5*«A'*#p«^-
* Sort. lb Muit ; io fit

• For diiflereTat styles with differcat Hubjects tort.
As sevetal garbs with conn try, town^ and court/ — F

290 Of Friendship. pEssay xxvii.

(for it is of him Bacon is speaking) was quite right in saying
that to Man^ such as Man is^ friendship is indispensable to hap-
piness ; and that one who has no need^ and feels no need of it^
must be either much above human nature, or much below it.^
Aristotle does not presume to say that no Being can exist so
exalted as to be wholly independent of all other Beings, and to
require no sympathy, nor admit of it ; but that such a Being
must be a widely different Being from Man.

* It is most untrue, that it should have any character at all of
divine nature,*

Well might Bacon doubt, or deny, that incapacity for friend-
ship could assimilate Man to the divine nature. We do not
find that true Christians — ^those whom Peter describes as ' par-
takers of a divine nature through the great and precious promises
given unto them' ' — ^become less and less capable of friendship
in proportion as they, in any measure, attain to that resemblance
to their divine Master, which is yet to be their perfection and
their happiness, when they ' shall see Him as He is / ' and after
which they are now, here below, continually striving. We do
not find that, as they increase in universal charity, particular
friendships are swallowed up in it, or that any progress to higher
and more exalted christian attainment makes a partial regard
towards one good man more than another, unworthy of them,
and too narrow a feeling for them to entertain. Par from it,
indeed : it is generally observed, on the contrary, that the best
Christians, and the fullest, both of brotherly love towards all
' who are of the household of faith* and of universal tenderness
and benevolence towards all their fellow-creatures^ are abo the
warmest and steadiest in their friendships.

Nor have we any reason to believe that in the future state
of blessedness and glory, when the saint is indeed made perfect,
any part of his perfection will consist in being no longer
capable of special individual friendship. There are many persons,
however, who believe that it will be so ; and this is one of the

^ * 'O ^i /i^ Svvdfuvos KOtviJViXv ^ fitiOkv MutvoQ Si aitrapKiiaVf oi/Okv /uooc
fl-oXcoic* «<rr£ ^ Oripiov ^ OkoQ.* — Arist. Politiot, Book i. Bacon probably quoted
from a Latin translation % ' Homo solitariaa, ant Dens aut bestia.'

« 2 Pei, i. 4. • I John iii. a.

Essay xxvii.] Annotations.

many points in which views of the eternal state of t
salvation are rendered more uninteresting to our fe
consequently, more uninviting, than there is any nee
them. Many suppose that wh^i we have attain
eternal state, the more concentrated and limited afl
be lost in brotherhood with that ' multitude which n*
number, redeemed out of every nation, and kindred, a^
But if we find, as we do find, that private firiendshi]
interfere with christian brotherhood, nor with unive
volence on earth, why should it do so in heaven ?

But 'we have more decisive proof than this:^ no os
pose that a Christian in his glorified state will be mc
than his great Master while here on earth ; fi:om Hin
ever remain at an immeasurable distance : we hope,
be free from the sufferings of our blessed Lord in 1
humiliation here below; but never to equal his p
Yet He was not incapable of Mendship. He certai
indeed, all mankind, more than any other man ever (
(as Paul says) ' while we were yet enemies. He die
He loved especially the disciples who constantly follow
but even among the Ai^ostlcs, He distinguished om
peculiarly and privately Imfrkmi — John vras ^fche disc
Jeaus lovedJ Can we then ever be too higlily cxa
capable of friendship ?

' I am convinced, on the contrary, that the extei
perfection of frendship will cx>nBtitute great part of 1
happiness of the bleat. Many have lived in various ai
ages and countries, perfectly adapted {I mean not i
their being generally estimable, but in the agreemeo
tastes, and suitableness of dispositions) for friendship i
other, but who, of course, could never meet in th
Many a one selects^ when he is reading history ,^ — a tr
Christian, most especially in reading sacred history, —
or two favourite characters, with whom he feels that a
acquaintance would have been peculiarly delightful to hi i
should not such a desire be realised in a fiitnre state ?
to see and personally know, for example, the Apostle
JobUj is the most hkely to arise in the noblest and pur^

1 From A Fuw o/ the Scrijiture Remlaiions of a Future Stai

U 3

Essay xxvii.] Annotations.

between those companions who have trod togethei
path to Glory, and have ' taken sweet counsel
walked in the house of God as friends/ A chan,
rence towards those who have fixed their hearts
objects with ourselves during this earthly pilgrimt
given and received mutual aid during their course
as little, I trust, to be expected, as it is to be
certainly is not such a change as the Scriptures
prepare for.

' And a belief that,, under such circumstances,
attachments will remain, is as beneficial as it is reai
is likely very greatly to influence our choice of frit
surely is no small matter. A sincere Christian woul(
be, at any rate, utterly careless whether those ^
Christians also, with whom he connected himself:
is likely to be much greater, if he hopes, that, provii
have selected such as are treading the same path, am
have studied to promote their eternal welfare, he
again, never to part more, those to whom his hei
engaged here below. The hope also of rejoining i
BtatCj the fjTcnd whom he sees advaadng towards tl^
an additional spur to his own virtuous exertions. I
which can make heaven appear more desirable, is a hi
hh progress in christian excellence ; and as one of tl
of earthly enjoyments to the best and most exalted C
to witness the happiness of a friend, so, one of the I
his hopes will be^ that of exulting in the most perfect
of those moat dear to hira*

' As for the grief, which a man may be supposed
the loss — the total and final loss— of some who may
dear to him on earth, as well as of vast multitudes
hia fcUow-Greatures, 1 have only this to remark: that
good man in this life, though he never ceases to i
deavoura to reclaim the wicked^ and to diminish evi
e\il and suffering, yet, in cases where it is clear that r
be done by him, strives, as f ar aa possible (though oft
much success), to withdraw his thoughts from evi
cannot lessen, but which stillj in spite of hia eflbrts
cloud his mind. Wo canm^t at pleasure draw off ot
entirely from painful subjects which it is in vain t

auuuu xuc puwcr iaj uhj tuts uuiiipictci^^ vrucu wc wui, wuuiu

be a great increase of happiness; and this power, therefore, it is
reasonable to suppose the blessed will possess in the world to
come — ^that they will occupy their minds entirely with the
thoughts of things agreeable, and in which their exertions' can
be of service ; and will be able, by an effort of the will, oom«>
pletely to banish and exclude every idea that might alloy their
happiness/

*A desire to sequester a man^s self for a higher conversation
such as is found .... really and truly in divers of the
ancient hermits and holy fathers of the Church*

Bacon here seems to agree in that commendation of a mo-
nastic life which is sometimes heard even now from Protestants.
On this subject I take leave to quote a passage fr^m the
Cautions for the Times.

' The monks are represented by Roman-catholic writers as all
pious men, who, bent upon the cultivation of a religious temper
of miud, withdrew from the world for that purpose ; as if the
business and duties of this world were not the very discipline
which God has appointed for cidtivating real righteousness in
us. And then, the learning, peace, and piety of the monas-
teries is strongly contrasted with the ignorance and irreligion.
and perpetual wars, of the dark and troublous times, which are
commonly called 'the middle ages,' in such a manner that
even Protestants are sometimes led to think and say that, at
least in former times, and for those times, the monasteries were
commendable institutions. But they forget that it was the very
system of which these were a part, which made the world so dark
and unquiet ; and then, like the ivy which has reduced a fine
building to a shattered ruin, they held together the fragments
of that ruin.

'Of course, if you teach men that holiness can be only, or can
be best attained by withdrawing from the world into a cloister,
all those who are bent on living a holy life toili withdraw from
the world ; and they will, in so withdrawing, take from the
world that which should reform it — ^the benefit of their teaching,
and the encouragement of their example. One after another
all those most promising men, who should have been, each in

2g6 Of Friendship, [Essay xxvii.

greater comfort in their native land, than that which some of
them now possess, as slaves, in a foreign land.

' So, also, in the case of the monasteries. Those who shut
themselves up there might have exercised a much better and
more rational piety (like the Apostles and first Christians) out
of them, and in the world ; and if they had lived amongst their
fdlow-men, would have helped to raise the whole tone of society
aroTmd them. And it was just the same evil system which
buried some good men (like lamps in sepulchres) in the cells of
monasteries, and made the general mass of society outside the
walls of those establishments so bad, that it seemed to excuse
their withdrawal from it.

' It is to be acknowledged, indeed, that some monks some-
times did some good for the rest of the world. They were
often engaged in education, attendance on the poor, copying of
manuscripts, agriculture, &c., and all these were really useful
occupations. It is not to these things we object, when we
object to monasteries; for vnth monasteries these have no
necessary connection.

' Let associations be formed por a good object, when need-
ful ; instead of first forming an association as an end in itself,
and then looking out for something for it to do; else, that
something, being a secondary matter, will sometimes be ill
done, or neglected, and sometimes will be what had better be
left imdone.'

* There is as much difference between the counsel that a friend
ffiveth, and that a man giveth himself as there is between
the counsel of a friend and of a flatterer. For there is no
such flatterer as a murCs self!

I have already remarked, in the notes on ' Truth,' that men
are in danger of exercising on themselves, when under the in-
fluence of some passion, a most pernicious oratorical power, by
pleading the cause, as it were, each, before himself, of that
passion. Suppose it anger, for instance, that he is feeling ; he
is naturally disposed to dwell on, and amplify the aggravating
circumstances of the supposed provocation, so as to make out a
good case for himself. This of course tends to heighten his re-
sentment, and to satisfy him that he 'doth well to be angry s*

298 Of Friendship. [Essay xxvii.

temptations of others that \7e may the better understand our
own.

' How is it, men, when they in judgment sit
On the same faults, now censure, now acquit ?
'Tis not that thej are to the error blind.
But that a different object fills tiie mind.
Judging of others, we can see too weU
Their grievous fiiU ; but not, how griered they fell :
Judging ouTselyes^ we to our minds recall.
Not how we fell, but how we grieved to fiilL' ^

But though ten thousand of the greatest faults in others are,
to us^ of less consequence than one small fault in ourselves^ yet
self-approval is so much more agreeable to us than self-exami-
nation — ^which, as Bacon says^ 'is a medicine sometimes too
piercing and corrosive/ — ^that we are more ready to examine
our neighbours than ourselves^ and to rest satisfied with finding,
or fimcying, that we are better than they ; foi^etting that, even
if it really is so, better does not always imply good; and that
our course of duty is not like a race which is won by him who
runs, however slowly, if the rest are still slower. It is this
forgetfulness that causes bad examples to do much the greatest
amoimt of evil among those who do not follow them. For,
among the four kinds of bad examples that do us harm —
namely, those we imitate — ^those we proudly exult over — those
which drive us into an opposite extreme — and those which
lower our standard^ — this last is the most hurtfiil. For one
who is corrupted by becoming as bad as a bad example^ there
are ten that are debased by being content with being better.

But though this observing of faults in another is thus
' sometimes improper for our case * — and though, at any time,
to dwell on the faults of another is wrongs — yet in the case of
a friend, though not of a stranger, we are perhaps ready to fall
into the opposite error, of overlooking them altogether, or of
defending them. Now, it is absolutely necessary to jierceive
and acknowledge them : for, if we think ourselves bound to
vindicate them in our finend, we shall not be very likely to
condemn them in ourselves. Self-love will, most likely, demand
fair play, and urge that what is right in our friend is not wrong
in us ; and we shall have been perverting our own principles of
morality; thus turning the friendship that might yield such
' fair fruit ' into a baneful poison-tree.

» Crabbe, Tales of the Hall.

Essay xxvii.] Annotations.

' The two noble Jruits of friendship {peace in the q^
support of the judgment) follow the last fruit, w
the pomegranate, full of many kernels . • • /

' The manifold use of friendship/

One of theae manifold uses of friendBhip isj the
not noticed by Bacon, to be derived from a very, v\
and pure-minded friend; that yon may tru^t him
firom you some things which you had better not knc
arc cases in which there is an advantage in knowii
advantage in not knowing; and the two cannot of
combinedj except by the thing being known to your
— your ' alter ipse,' — and kept back from you.

For instance, a man may have done Bomething an
friend may say to him, ^ I have not told my friend oi
will notj provided you take care to discontinue the pi
rectify what is done wrongs — to keep clear of any
&c., as the case may be/ And he will be more eucc
do so if he knows that your estimation of him is i
impaired. And yet such a person has need to be
looked after ; which of course your friend will take cai

And there are other cases also in which such a coi
will be advantag(X)U3, But of course one who can be i
must bcj as has been said^ one of consummate wii
int^rity.

It may he worth noticing as a curious circumstai
persons past forty before they were at all acquain
together a very close intimacy of friendship. For gn
wood to tuke^ there must be a wonderful congeniality
the trees.

Essay xxviii.] Annotations.

will revert to his customs ; but he that cleareth h
duceth a habit of frugality, and gaineth as well uj
as upon his estate. Certainly, who' hath a state t
not despise small things : and, commonly, it is lea
able to abridge petty charges than to stoop to p«
A man ought warily to bcgiu charges which, ouc€
continue; bat in matters that return not, he n
uiagmficent.

ANNOTATIONS.

^Riches are for spendin^^ and spending for ho:

For those who are above the poorest classes, tlie hi
some of the heaviest — expenses are, as Bacon expree
honour ^ — u e. for the display of wealth. We do i
commonly speak of ' display of wealth ' except when
and the display of it are something unusually great,
rather of Miving in a decent, or in a handsome style*
does certainly imply the purchase of many articles
provide ourselves with because they are cosily ; — whi(
Tided in order to be observed, and observed as costly ;
comes to the same thing, because the absence of then
observed as denoting shabbiness. For Lnstance, a siJ
or a gilt one, ia as useful as a gold one ; and beech
tree makes as useful furniture as mahogany or rose^'w
as for the mere gratification to the eye, of the super:
of these latter, this is, to persons of moderate meai
ficient set-off against the difference of cost, Moreov(
of wild flowers, or a necklace of crab*s-eye-seeds, ^
pretty to look at, and as becoming, as jewels or cor
these latter were to become equally cheap, some otln
decoration would be sought for, and prized on acco
known oostlineas,

Forj though people censure any one for making
beyond his station, if he falls below it in what are cons

' WTio. Me who. S^epagopr.

3oa OfEwp€n»€» [Essay xxviii.

decencies of his station^ he is oonsidered as either abaoidl
penurious, or else very poor.

And why^ it may be asked^ should any one be at ail ashamed
of this latter^ — ^supposing his poverty is not the result of any
misconduct? The anawer is, that though poverty is not ac-
counted, by any p^recms of sense, dUgrac^l, the exposuie of it t^
felt to be a thing indecent : and though, accordiugly, a right-
minded man does not seek to make a secret of it, he does not like
to expose it, any more than he would to go without clothes.

The Greeks and Romans had no distinct expressions for the
* disgraceful ' and the ' indecent -/ ' turpe ' and aier^ov served
to express both. And some of the ancient philosophers, espe-
cially the Cynics (see Cic. de Off.) founded paradoxes on this
ambiguity, and thus bewildered their hearers and themselves.
For it is a great disadvantage not to have (as our language has)
distinct expressions for things really different.

There are several things, by the way, besides those just at-
tended to, which are of the character of, not disgraceful, but
indecent : that is, of the existence of which we are not ashamed,
but which we should be ashamed to obtrude on any one's notice :
e.g. self-love, which is the deliberate desire for one's own hap-
piness; and regard ioie the good opinion of others. ISiese are
not — when not carried to excess — ^vices, and consequently are
not disgraceful. Any vice a man wishes to be thought not
to have ; but no one pretends or wishes to be thought wholly
destitute of aU regard for his own welfare or for the good
opinion of his fellow-creatures. But a man of sense and
ddicacy keeps these in the backgityond, and, as it were, clothes
them, because they become offensive when prominently dis-
played.

And so it is with poverty. A man of sense is not ashamed
of it, or of deliberately confessing it ; but he keeps the marks
of it out of sight.

These observations a person was making to a £dend^ who
strenuously controverted his views, and could not, or would not,
perceive the distinction above pointed out. ' I, for nay part/
said he, ' am poor, and I feel no shame at all at its being
known. Why, this coat that I now have on, I have had turned,
because I could not weU afford a new one ; and I care not who

Essay xxviii.] Annotations,

if you look to the proportions, it is quite the reven
numbers of persons of each amount of income,
classes^ from £ioo per annum up to j6icx),ooo pei
you ^will find the per centage of those who are un(
diflB.culties continually augmenting as you go up
when yoix corae to sovereign States^ whose revenue
by mill ions J you will hardly find one that is not tlei
in debt ! So that it would appear that the larger
the harder it is to live within it*

Bacon himself afibrda a most deplorable insta
With a very large income^ be was involved by his t
in such pecuniary difi&cultics as drove him to practi
corruption.

When men of great revenuei^, whether civil or a
live iu the splendour and sensuality of Sardanapali
apt to plead that this is ea^pecied of thara^ whl
perhaps J sometimes true, in the sense that such
anticipated as probable ; not true, as implying tliB
quired or approved, I have elsewhere^ remarked
ambi^ity in the word 'expect:' but it is worth i
Boiuetiraes leading, in conjunction with other eauseSj
tical bad effect upon this point of expenses as wel
many others* It is sometimes used in the sense of ^i
' calculate on/ &c. [IXwiL^ni)^ in shorty ' consider as
sometimes for ' require or demand as reasonable/ — ^* c
right ^ (ci£*w). Thus, 1 may fairly ' exi>ect * (us^w) thi
has received kindness from me, should protect me ii
yet I may have reason to expect (tXir/^av) that hi
' England expects every man to do his duty / bu
be chimerical to expect^ that is, anticipate a um\
formance of duty. What may reasonably be expect
sense of the word)^ mnst he precisely the pract
majority ! since it is the majority of instances that <
probability : what may reasonably he expected (in
«cnse}, is something much beyond the practice of the {
tts long, at least, as it shall be true, tliat ^ narrow i
that Leadeth to lifcj and few there be that find it.'

^ EUmemU of Lo^ic, Appeudix.

ESSAY XXIX. OF THE TRUE Gt
OF KINGDOMS AND ESTATl

rpHE speech of Thcmistocles, tlie Athenian, Trhict
X and arrogant, in taking so much to himBelfj
grave and wise ohaervation and censure, applied
others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he sa
not fiddlcj but yet he could make a small town a
These Trords (liolpen^ a little with a metaphor)
two difTcring abilities in those that deal in busine
for, if a true survey be taken of counsellors and stat
may be found {though rarely) those which can m;
State great, and yet cannot fiddle, — as, on the othei
will be found a great many that can fiddle very eun
yet are so far from being able to make a small Stat
their gift lieth the other way — to bring a great and
estate to ruin and decay. And, certainly, those deg(
and shifts, whereby many counsellors and govemon
favour with their masters and estimation w^itli 1
deserve no }>etter name than fiddling, being thi
pleiming for the time, and graceful to themselves
tending to the weal and advanoemeut of the State
Berve. There are also {no doubt) counsellors and
which may be held snfficientj negotiis pares [aUe
afiairs], and to keep them from precipices and mani
venienecs, which, nevertheless, are far from the sbil
and aniplify an estate in power, means, and fortune,
workmen what they may be, let us speak of the wor
the true greatness of kingdoms and estates, and
thereof. An argument^ fit for great and mighty

* Estates. States. Bee page 13^. * Plut. VtL Them

* Holpen, See pa^ a 13.

' And muTiy bartk that to tbe ttimnWing ctord
Ctin tune tbrnr timel; voicea cunninglif.' — Spender,

* Am. Thai. See paga 30,

* Ajgutuent. Sttbfect,

* Sad ttok J yet argunn^
Not \ess, bat more^ Leruic tlun the wrath
Of stem AQ\MiiM:^MUi<m.

X 2

3o8 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms, §-c. [Essay xxix.

have in their hand ; to the end that neither by over-measuring
their forces, they lose themselves in vain enterprises ; nor, on
the other side, by undervaluing them, they descend to fearful
and pusillanimous counsels.

The greatness of an estate, in bulk and territory, doth fall
under measure ; and the greatness of finances and revenue doth
fall under computation. The population may appear by mus-
ters, and the number and greatness of cities and towns by cards
and maps ; but yet there is not any thing, amongst civil affairs,
more subject to error, than the right valuation and true judg-
ment concerning the power and forces of an estate. The
kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any great kernel, or
nut, but to a grain of mustard seed;* which is one of the least
grains, but hath in it a property and spirit hastily to get up
and spread. So are there States great in territory, 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 foundation of
great monarchies.

Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, 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 importeth' not much, where
the people are of weak courage ; for, as Virgil saith, ' It never
troubles the wolf how many the sheep be.'^ The army of the
Persians, in the plains of Arbela, was such a vast sea of people,
as it did somewhat astonish the commanders in Alexander'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. When Tigranes, the Ar-
menian, 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

* Mcttt. 3diL 3r»

^ Apt, Qualified for J adapted to. 'All that ware strong- and apt for war/ — -

2 Klflifg.

^ Import* To he of Im^oriawae. See page 2 u

* Virtril, E^L v^iL 51-

* A. L. I. vii. II.

empire.

Let Stakes, ttiat iaim at greatness, tiike heed how their nobi-
lity and gentlemen do multiply too fa6t ; for that maketh the
<;ommon fitibjeet grow to be a peasant and base swain, driven
ont of heiart, and, in eflPect, but a gentleman^s labourer. Even
as you may see in coppice woods, if you leave your straddles
too thick, you shall never have clean underwood, but shrubs
and bushes ; so in countries, if the gentlemen be too many, the
commons will be base — and you wiU bring it to that, that not
the hundredth poll will be fit for an helmet, especially as to the
infantry, which is the nerve of An army, — and so there will be
great population and little strength. This which I speak of
hath 1>een no where better seen than by comparing of England
and France; whereof England, thongli far less in territory and
population, hath been, nevertheless, an overmatch ; in regard*
the middle people of England make good soldiers, which the
pejisants of France do not ; herein the device of King Henry VII.
{whereof I have spoken largely in the history of his life} was
profound and admirable, in making farms and houses of hus-
bandry of a standard, that is, maintained with sneh a propor-
tion of land unto them, as may breed a subject to live in con-
renient plenty, and no servile condition ; and to ke^p the plough
in the hands of tlie owners, and not mere hirelings ; and thu^s
indeed you sliall attain to VirgiFs character, which he gives to
ancient Italy :~

* Terra poteni armiB fttqTie abere g^lefofc' '

Neither is the estate^ (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 passed over — I mean
the state of free servants and attendants npon noblemen and
gentlemen, which are no ways inferior unto the yeomanry for
arms; and therefore, out of all question, the splendour and
magnificence and great retinues, the hospitality of noblemen and
gentlemen received into custom, do much conduce unto martial

^ In regard. For the reason, that; on accf/^ni of. * Change w*fi tfaoogH
ne<!«5sary m rsffard of the injury tbc Clinrch bad receistsd/ — Hot^kfir.
* Virg. jEtteid, I 335.

* For d«edi of armSf aixd f^UU soil rouown'd/
■ Eitate, OriUr af m^n. See pag© 135.

314 Of the True Greatness of KingdomSy S^c. [Essay xxix.

invasion offered^ did implore 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^ ^hich were anciently made oa
the behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of state, I do
not Bce how they may be well justified ; as when the Romans
made a war for the liberty of Gi'secia,* or when the Lacedse-
monians and Athenians made war to set up or pull down demo^
cracies and oligarchies ; or when wars were made by foreigners,
under the pretence of justice or protect! on, to dehver the sub-
jects of otlicrs from tyrauny and oppression, and the like. Let
it suffice, that no estate expect to be grcat^ 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 exercise. A civil war, indeed,
is like the heat of a fever ; but a foreign war is like the heat
of exercise, and serveth to keep the body in health ; for in a
slothful peace, both courages will effeminate,^ and manners
coiTupt : but howsoever it be for happiness, without all ques-
tion for greatnessj it makcth to be still for the most part iu
arms: and the strength of a veteran army (though it be a
chargeable business), always on foot, is that which commonly
giveth the law, or, at least, the reputation amongst all neigh-
bour States, as may be well seen in Spain; which hath 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 monarchy,
Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompej^s preparation against Caesar,
saith, ' Concihum Pompeii plane Themistoclcum est ; putat enim,
qui mari potitur, eum rcrum potiri f and without doubt, Pompey,
had tired out Ca^ar, if upon vain confidence he had not left
that way. We see the great effects of battles by sea : the battle
of Actium decided the empire of the world ; the battle of
Lepanto arrested the greatness of the Turk. There be many

* Grn^da. Grerce. *And tbo TOUgh goat is tbe King" of Qrecia/--DaH. vjii. 21-
^ Effenjujate. T& baeome effmnituxte or Hfectk.

* In a elothful prince, oouwige will effhmiiKxie.* — Pope^
By, Ihirin4f. ' B^ the ppaco of three yeara I ceased not to WBLrti eterj ouc,
tiTght and day, with UmTsf—Actf xx. 3 1,

* Pompey 'a pkn u plainly from TUemifitoclea ; fbir 1j<; jadjci'S tbiit whtwvet bo-
*xttii<^ ina^l^ ^{ the s*?a is imsUir of ail thui|fs/— ^J Aitic. i. 8,

3i6 Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms^ SfC, [Essay xxix.

triumphs to themselves and their sons, for such wars as they did
achieve in person, and left only for wars achieved by subjects
some triumphal garments and ensigns to the general.

To conclude. No man can by care-taking (as the Scripture
saith) ' add a cubit to his stature/ 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 estates, to add amplitude and
greatness to their kingdoms ; for by introducing such ordinances,
constitutions, and customs, as we have now touched,* they may
sow greatness to their posterity and succession. But these things
are commonly not observed, but left to take their chance.

ANNOTATIONS.

' All States that are liberal of naturalization towards strangers
are fit for* empire J

What Bacon says of naturalization is most true, and im-
portant, and not enough attended to. But he attributes more
liberality in this point to the Romans than is their due. He
seems to have forgotten their ' Social War,' brought on entirely
by their refusal to admit their subjects to civil rights.

It is remarkable that, under the kings, and again under the
emperors, there was the most of this liberality, and under the
Republic, the least. This is quite natural : when it is the
citizens that govern, they naturally feel jealous of others being
admitted to an equality with them ; but the sovereign has no
reason to wish that one class or portion of his subjects should
have an invidious advantage over another. There is an excep-
tion to this in cases where religious fanaticism comes in ; as is
to be seen in the Turkish empire, where christian subjects have
always been kept as a kind of Helots.

On the ruinous results of keeping a portion of the people in
such a state, I have already dwelt in the notes to the Essay on
' Seditions and Troubles.'

A somewhat similar disadvantage in respect of advancement

' Tonch. To treat alightltf, * If the antiquaries have touched it, they have
immediately quitted it.' — Additon.

322 Of the True GreatjuiM of Kingdoms^ ^c, [Essay xxix.

But tbere is nothing in whicli this provitlciitial guidance
is more liable to be overlooked — no case in >vlucb ive arc more
apt to mistake for the wisdom of Man what iSj in truthj the
wisdom of God.

In the results of instinct in brutes, we are sure, not only
tliatj although the animals tbemselves are^ in some sort, agents^
they could not originally have designed the effects they pro-
duce dj but that even afterwards they have no notion of the
combination by which these are brouglit about* But when
hnman conduct tends to some desirable cndj and the agents are
competent to perceive tliat the end is desirable, and the means
well adapted to it, tLey are apt to forget tliat, in the great
majority of instances, those means were not devised, nor those
etids proptmed, by the pei'sons themsehes tiIio are thus em-
ployed. The workman, for instance, who is employed in casting
printing-types J is usually thinking only of producing a commodity
by the sale of which he may support himself* IVith reference
to this object^ be is acting, not from any impulse tbat is at all
of the character of instinct, but from a rational and deliberate
choice : but he is also, in the \^Ty same aet^ contributing most
powerfully to the diffusion of knowledge; about whieli, perhaps^
be has no anxiety or thought ; in refertnce to this tatttr object,
therefore, his procedure corresponds to those operations of
various animals which we attribute to instinct j since ihey^
doubtlesB, derive some immediate gratification frora what they
are doing. Indeed, in all departments connected with the
acquisition and eommunication of knowledge, a similar procedure
may be traced. The greater pai-t of it is the giftj not of human,
but of divine benevolencCj which has implanted in JIan a tliirst
after knowledge for its own sake, accompanied with a sort of
instinctive desire, founded probably on sympathy, of communi-
catiuf^ it to others, as an ulrimato cud. This^ and also the love
of display, are no doubt inferior motives, and will be superseded
by a higher principle, in proportion as the individual advances
in moral excellence. These motives constitute, as it were, a
kind of scaffolding, which sliould be taken down by little and
little, as the perfect building advances, but which is of indis-
pensable use till that is completed .

It is to be feared J indeed, that Society would fare but ill if
none did service to the Public, except in proportion as they

ESSAY XXX, OF REGIMEN OF HEALTH.

I

TIIEUE is a wisdom in this beyond the rules of physic : a
mau^a own obsen^ationj what he finds good of/ and what
he finds hurt of, in the best physie to preserve health ; but it ia
a safer conclusion to say, ' This agrectb not well with me,
therefore I will not eontinne it/ than this, ^ I find no offence'
of this, therefore I may use it :' for strength of nature in
youth passcth over many excesses which are owing a man till
his age. Discern of the coming on of yearSj and think not to do
the same things still ; for age will not be defied. Beware of
sudden change in any great point of diet, and if necessity enforce
it, fit the rest to it; for it ia a secret, both in nature and state,
that it is safer to change many things than one. Examine thy
customs of dict^ sleep, exercise, apparel, and the Hkcj and try^
in anything thou shalt judge hurtful^ to discontinue it by little
and little ; but so as " if thou dost find any inconvenience by
the change, thou come back to it again i for it is hard to dis-
tinguish that which is generally held good and wholesome, from
that which is good particularly, and fit for thine own body.
To be free-minded and cheerfully disposed at hours of meat *
and sleep, and of exerciscj is one of the be^t precepts of long
lasting. As for the passions and studies of the mind^ avoid
envy, anxious fears, anger, fmtting inwards, subtle and knotty
inquisitionsj joys and exhilarations in excess, sadness not com-
municated* Entertain hopes, mirth rather than joy, variety of
delights rather than surfeit of them i wonder and admiration,
and therefore novelties ; studies that fill the mind with splendid
and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contcmplatioua
of nature. If you fiy physic in health altogether, it will be too
strange for your body when you shall need it j if you make it

* Of- JVofM. See page 270.

* Offence, Murl^ damtiffir. (Now aeldom applied to ptysical iiytuy,) 'The
pRiDft of the tciucb are greater tbaii the offences of other laCUAi^/ — Biicoti,

* To do qffhice and ecaih in Chriatcmioiii,'^ — ^UnleJt^ere.

* As. TAid. See i>a^ 23.
^ Meai. £hods meaU.

^Ad be dai at Ills imair the mmie played Bweet.'*— 0/<j BtUlad.

Essay xxx.] Annotations,

too familiar^ it will work no extraordinary eflFect
Cometh. I commend* rather some diet for d
than frequent use of physic, except it be grown i
for those diets alter the body more, and trouble t
no new accident in your body, but ask opinion oi
ness, respect' health principally, and in health, act
that put their bodies to endure in health, may i
nesses which are not very sharp, be cured only '
tendering. Celsus could never have spoken it at
had he not been a wise man withal, when he givt
of the great precepts of health and lasting, that a
and interchange contraries, but with an inclination
benign extreme; use fasting and full eating, bu
eating ; watching and sleep, but rather sleep ; sitti
cise, but rather exercise, and the like; so shai
cherished and yet taught masteries. Physicians
them so pleasing and conformable to the humou
tient, as' they press not the true cure of the diseas
others are so regular in proceeding according to
disease, as they respect not sufficiently the cond
patient. Take one of a middle temper, or, if it
found in one man, combine two of either^ sort ; an
to call as well the best acquainted with your body^
reputed of for his faculty.

ANNOTATIONS.

It is remarkable that Bacon should have said no
Essay, of early and late hours ; though it is a genei
opinion that early hours are conducive to lougevitj
a proverb that

■ Enrly to bed> and early to rise,
Makes a man Ixealth^j aud wedthj, vad wUe/

' ComnientL To ricomrrtimd. * I eommead unlo yon Phcubi
E&mam XVI. I.

* Kcfip«ct. ff<te& regtird to. 'In jnd^ent seats, not man
caaaeft only might to Ut re^peviedV—KelikwQrl^.

* As. T/iaL St-e pii^ti 2^.

* Elthor, Each, * Oti t4lher aide of the river.' — Sev. iril j.

Essay xxs,] Annaiaiiom^ \

insstincttve perception which most people have, in
of the rest-time. It is well known that any one
lou^ aecustoracd to rise at a certain hour, will m
that hour, whatever may have been the time of
l^tni. It might liave been expected that one wiio 1
to a certain number of hours' slecpj would, if on i
lie retired to r^t an hour or two earlier, or latei
wake so much the earlier, or the later, when he
accustomed time of sleep* Bnt the fact is general
He \Till be Ukely to wake neither before nor afibi
tomed hour.

This, again, may be relied on as a fact i a studt
the universities, finding that bis health was sufierij
study and late hours, took to rising at fivo and goi
ten, all the year round } and found his health — tho
as hard as ever— manifestly improved. But he ft
unable to compose anything in the morning, tboa^
take in the sense of an author equally well. Ant
write for a prize, he could not get his thoughts to i
about his usual bedtime. Thinking that tliis might
thing to do with the digestion, he took to dining
earlier, in the hopes that then eight o'clock would
the same m ten. But it made no difference. An
severing in vain attempts for some time, he altered
and for one week, till he had finished his essay^ i
wrote at nighty and lay a-bed in the morning* He
and correct in the day-time what be had written ;
not compose except at night. When his essay was
returned to his early habits.

Now this is a decisive answer to those who sa
custom ; you write better at night, because that is tl
have been accustomed to employ fur study ;' foi
custom was just the reverse. And equally vain is t
tionj that ^ the night hours arc quiti^ and you :
having no interrupt ion,^ For this student was su
cjuite free from interruption from five o'clock till
at eight. And the streets were much more still tl
midnight. And again : any explanation connected
Ught breaks down equally. For, as far as that is c<
the winter-time it makes no difference whether you

Eaaay xxx.]

AnmtaiionM.

suffer ; but have led a life of quiet retirement, mi
of body or miud, — avoiding all troublesome en
seeking only a comfortable obscurity. Such men,
strong constitution, and if they escape any rem
mities, arc likely to live long. But much afflict
exertion, and, still more, both combined^ will be
upon the constitution — if not at once, yet at leasts
vance. One who is of the character of an acti\
verb, or, still more^ both combinetl^ though he mi
have lived long in everything bat years, will rart
age of the neuters.

Essay xxxi]

Annotafions,

he auspects : for thereby he shall be sure to kac
truth of them than he did before, and withal si]
party more circumspect^ not to give further causi
but this would^ not be done to men of base uat
if they find themselves onee suspected, will u
The Italian says, ' Sospetto liceueia fetle f^ as if
give a passport to faith j but it ought rather to

discharge itself.

ANTITHETA ON SUSPICION,

Pbo.
• * * # •

* M«nto qjnH fides suspecta est, quam
fqsptdo lalwfHcit.

* Th^ Jidelitti which tmtplcion over*
throws, diserve^ to be aufipecM.*

'Snspido Rdem aim
* Me ieho U sit^}iem
honour,'

ANNOTATIONS.

' Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats among
ikey ever jly by twilight*

As there are dim -sighted persons^ who live in a
petiial twilight^ so there are some who, having m
clearness of bead, nor a very elevated tone of n
perpetually haunted by euspicions of everybody and
Such a man attributes — ^judging in great measure i
— interested and selfish motives to every one- ^
having no great confidence in his own penetration^
one credit for an open and straightforward charact
always suspect some underhand dealings iu ever;
when he is unable to perceive any motive for such c
when the character of the party affords no groan
cion (^Ill-doers are ill-deemers').^ One, on the eo
has a fair share of intelligence, and ia himself the

' Would. Shoitld. 'As for peri^rtlation, wliich belong<?tli to i
Koiild he made hj daHfyinp, lij a diLTion of milk put luto warm

' * SuBplcioD releases faith/ ' See Ptomrhgfor C

tlieir honour, never thouglit (except a very few u
ones) of telling a falsehood to /thu.

A person who once held offices of high inapc
vast difficulty and dehcacy, was enabled to m
than thirty years' experience, that though he ha
to employ many persona in confidcotial service
|>art to them some most momentous secretSj he )
had his confidence betrayed- No one of them t
important secret confided to him, or in any waj
trust reposed in him. Of course, this person
indiscriminately; nor did be trust all to an equal
he occasionally found men turn out worse thati li
and often had plots and cabals formed against I
lies told to hira* But he never was, properly
frayed. He always went on the principle of t
some men arc thoroughly honest, and some uttei
and some intermediate j and thoroughly trusting, c
distrusting, where he saw good reasons for doing
pending his judgment respecting the rest: not pu
in their power — yet not making them objects of sui
out cause, — bat letting them sec that he hoped w
and considered the presumption to be on the side
till guilt is proved,

A man of an opposite character, who was long ir
and important position, afforded matter for doubt ai:
among those who knew him, as to the opinion he ei
mankind. Some thought that he had a very good,
very mean, estimate of men in general. And cacl
certain sense, right. lie seems to have regarded
being what a person of truly elevated moral ehai
have called base and contemptible ; but he did ;
such disapprobation or eoutt-mpt for them, becans
notion of anything better, die v^as a very good-hui
and far from a niijsanthro]ie ; and he covdd no moi
dislike or de«;pise men for being nothing snperioi
thought tliem to be, than we should be said to di
or dogs for being no more than brutes. He m
therefore, to have thought very favourably of manki
ing most men to be as virtuous as any man need
be—and as doing nothing that he, or any one, need

Essay xxxi.] Annotations.

an attack of pain^ or harassing anxieties, or thi
or their misfortunes and calamities, or signal tri
ness, or signal discomfitures of virtue, or, above
scions neglect of duty — a man shall sometimes fi
lost sight even of those primal truths on Tvhicl
accustomed to gaze as on the stars of the firmi
serene, aud unchangeable ; even such truths as tl
God, his paternal government of the worldj k
origin of Christianity,

' In these moods, objections which he thought \
been dead and buried, start again into sudden cxt,
do more : like the escaped genius of the Arabim
rises from the little bottle in which he had been i
the shape of a thin smoke, which finally assumes
lines, and towers to the skies, these flimsiiy objectio
luonstrous dimensions, and fill the whole sphere of i
The arguments by which we have been accastom
them seem to have vauished, or^ if they appear
diminished in force and vividness. If we may pur
sion we have just made, we even wonder how such i
should ever have been compressed into so narrow a spi
tells us, that when his pilgrims, uoder the perturbati
by previous terrible visions, turnetl the perspective g
the Celestial City from the summits of the Delec
tains, their hands shook so that they could not i
through the instrument ; yet they thought they sa^
like the gate, and also ' some of the glory of the p
even bo with many of the moods in which othei
attempt to gaze in the same direction; a deep ha
have settled over the golden pinnacles and the ' gat
they, for a moment, doubt whether what others t
have seen, and what they flatter themselves they have
selves, be anything else than a gorgeous vision in
and * faith ' is no longer ' the substance of things
and the evidence of ' things not seen/

' And as there arc probably few who have profou:
gated the evidences of truth, who have not felt th
a moment at least, and sometimes for a yet longei
on the verge of universal scepticism, and aljont \
forth, without star or compass, on a boimdlcss occ

%

338 Of Suspicion, [Essay xxxi.

and perplexity, so these states of feeling are peculiarly apt to
infest the highest order of minds. For if, on the one hand,

these can best discern and estimate the evidence which proves
any truth, theyj on the other, can see most clearly and feel
most strongly the nature and extent of the objections which
oppose it } while they arc, at the same time, just as liable m the
Tulgar to the disturbing influences already adverted to, Thi^
liability is of course doubled, when its subject, as in the case
of Pascal, labours under the disadvantage of a gloomy tem-
perament.

' A circumstance which in these conflicts of mind often
gives sceptical objections an undue advantage is, that the great
truths which it is more especially apt to assail are generally the
result of an accumulation of proof by induction, or are even
dependent on quite separate trains of argument. The mind,
tlicrefore, cannot comprehend thera at a glance, and feel at
once their integrated force, but must examine them in detail by
successive acts of mind, — ^just as we take the measurement of
magnitudes too vast to be seen at once, in successive small
portions. The existence of Godj the moral governmcut of the
world, the divine origin of Christianity, arc all truths of this
stamp, Pascal, in one of his Perisies, refers to this infirmity
of the logical faculties. He justly observes^' To have a series
of proofs incessantly before the mind is beyond our power/
D'en avoir toujours les preuves presentes, c'est trop d^aflaire,

' From the inability of the mind to retain in perpetuity, or
to comprehend at a glance, a long chain of evidence, or the
total efiect of various lines of argument, Pascal truly obser^'es
that it is not sufficient for the security of our convictions, and
their due influence over our belief and practice, that we have
proved them, once for all, by a process of reasoning: — they
must be, if possible, tinctured and coloured by the imagination,
informed and animated by feelings and rendered vigorous aud
practical by habit. His words are well worth writing :—
' Ucason acts slowly, and with so many views upon so many
principles which it is necessary should lie always present, that
it is perpetually dropping asleep, and is lost for want of having
all its principles present to it. The aflections do not act thus;
they act instantaneously, aud are always ready for action. It

Essay xxxi.] Annotations.

is necessary^ therefore, to imbue our faith with
wise it will be always vacillating/

' It will not, of course, be imagined that, in t
we have now made, we are disposed to be tfc
scepticism ; or even, so far as it is yielded to, of
doubt to which we affirm even the most powerful
only liable, but liable in defiance of what are c
strong convictions. So far as such states of min
tary (and for an instant tbcy often arc, till, in
collects itself, and repels them), they are of com
not of blame, but of pity. So far as tliey are dt
fluctnations of feeling, op upon physical causes
fit all modify or control, it is our duty to summor
resist the assault, and reflect ou the nature of
which has so often appeared to us little less
strative.

' We are not, then, the apologists of scepticism^
approaching it ; we are merely stating a psrcholog
the proof of which we appeal to the recorded c
many great minds, and to tlic experience of tlio«
reflected deeply enough on any large and ditiicul
know what can be said for or against it*

^ The asserted fact is, that habitual belief of the s
strongest character is sometimes checkered with ti
of doubt and misgiving, and that, even when there
dhbdief—nOj not for a moment ; the mind may, in
moods, form a very diminished estimate of the
which belief is founded, and grievously nnderstat
indv. We believe that both these states of mine
sionatly experienced by Pascal— the latter, however,
frequently than the former; and hence, as we apj
we to account for those passages in which he speaks
dence for the existence of a God, or for the truth of <
as less conclusive than he ordinarily believed, or j
at other times declared them.

* At such times, the clouds may be supposed to
low upon this lofty mind.

' So little inconsistent with a hahii of intclligei
sueh transient invasions of doubtj or such diminis

Z 2

'

Essay xxxi*] Anmtaiwns.

learned to exercise thus much of practical faith,
pautly, on the score of hh not being able to com,
rejects truths of whicli he yet has greater evideuc
direct evidencCj of theLr being truths, than he hs
trary. NoWj ^ if we ha^^e had earthly fathers, ai
them reverence/ after this fashion^ and, when we
men, have applauded our sub mission aa appropriat
d it ion of dependence, ^ shall we not much rather
the Father of Spirits, aud Hve?' If, then, the
eceiic of moral education ami discipline, it seems
that the evidence of tlic truths we believe should
-with difficulties and liable to objections, not stror
force assent, nor so obscure as to elude sincere my

* God, according to the memorable aphorism of 1
cited, has afforded sufficient light to those whose
Bce, and left sufficient obscurity to perplex those
such wi^K All that seems ncce:*sary or reasonable
tliat as we are certainly not called upon to belie
without reasoUj nor without a preponderance of r
evidence shall be such as our faculties arc capal
with; and that the objections shall be only such as i
us npon any other hypothesis, or are insoluble otdy ;
transcend altogether the limits of the human un I
which last circumstance can be no valid reason, apa I
grounds, either for accepting or rejecting a given d •

* Now, we couteudj that it is in this equitable ^\ i
has dealt with us as moral agents, in relation to e I
truths which lie at the basis of religion and mon
may add, in relation to the dinne origin of Christi i
evidence is all of such a nature as we are accns
day to deal with and to act upon ^ while the ol j
either such as reappear in every other theory, or :
ficnlties absolutely beyond the limits of the humi
(Pages a 17-2 18,)

'It is much the same with the evidences of *!
Whether a certain amount and complexity of tei
likely to be fake ; whether it is likely that not one^
ber of men, would endure ignominy, pcrsecutionj s

Essay xxxL] Jimotations.

it ought to know best^^ — itaelf, and iinda there the ]
of all mystcriesj — when we reflect that when a
what itself is, it is obliged to confess that it know
the matter — nothing either of its own esseuce
opemtionj— that it is soraetimea inclined to think
and sometimes immaterial --that it cannot quite
chision whether t!ie body really exists, or is a :
what way (if the body really enlists) the intimate
the two is maintained, — when we see it perplexed
?ion, even to conceive how these phenomena cap
— proclaiming it to be an almost equal contradict
that matter can think, or the soul be material
tion maintained between two totally different si
yet a<lmitting that one of these must be true, th(
satisfactorily determine which, — when we reflec
surely wc cannot but feel that the spectacle of
Being refusing to believe a proposition, merely l/eca
its comprehension, is, of all paradoxes, the most pa
of all absurdities, the most ludicrous/ (Pages zig

' There i» nothing makes a man suspect much, more
Hiiie ; and, therefore ^ men should remedy susj.
curing to know more/

This is equally tme of the snapicions that hav
things as of persons. I extract a passage beari
point, from the Cuuiiom far the limes: —

' Multitudes are haunted by the spectres, as it i
surmises and indefinite suapicionsj which continue
them, just because they are rague and indefinite,
mind has nerer ventm^d to look them boldly in
put them into a shape in which reason can examu

* Now, would it not be an act of great charity
persons to persuade them to cast away their
timidity, and scrutinize such objections, instead
banish them by force ? For though, no doubt, so
and objections will always remain that cannot be d
np or answered, yet the vastly greatest numbe
objections and difficulties can be satisfactorily rera
ful examination and inerca;sed knowledge; and 1

^44 W Suspicion. [Essay sxxi.

of tkia will lead ua to be confident thatj if we could propor-
tionately enlarge our faeulties and acquirements (which is what
we may hope for in a better WDrld)^ the rest would vanish also.
And, in the raeanwhilSj it is of great importance to know exactly
what they are, lest our fancies should unduly magnify their
number and weight ; and also in order to make us see that they
are as nothing in comparison of the still greater difficulties on
the opposite sidej — namely, the objections which we should have
to encounter, if we rejected Christianity,

' Well, but/ it is said, ' though that course may be the beat
for well-read and skilful Divinea, it is better Dot to notice objec-
tions generally^ for fear of alarming and unsettling the minda
of plain unlearned people, who had probably never heard of
anything of the kind, Let them continue to read tbeir Bible
without beiDg disturbed by any doubts or suspicions that might
make them uneasy,'

' Nowj if in some sea-chart for the use of mariners, the various
rocks and shoak which a vessel has to pass in a certain voyage,
were to be wholly omitted, aud no notice taken of them, no doubt
many persons might happen to make the voyage safely, and with
a comfortable feeling of security, from not knowing at all of the
existence of any such dangers* But suppose some one did strike
on one of these rocks, from not knowing — though the makers of
the chart did — of its existente, and consequently perished in a
shipwreck which he might have been taught to avoid,— on whose
head would his blood lie ?

' And again, if several voyagers came to suspect, from va^ue
mmoursj that rocks and shoals (perhaps more formidable than
the real ones) did lie in their course, without any correct know-
ledge where they lay, or bow to keep clear of them, theuj so far
from enjoying freedom from apprehension, they would be exposed
to increased alarm — and much of it needless alarm j— without
being, after all, preserved from danger,

' And ao it is in the present case. Vague hints that learned
men have objected to such and such things, and have questioned
this or thatj often act like an inward slow-corroding canker ia
the minds of some who have never read or heard anything dis-
tinct on the subject ; and who, for that very reason, are apt to
imagine these objectionSj &c,, to be much more formidable than
they really are* For there are people of perverse mind, who.

Essay xxxi.] Annotations.

really possessing both learning and ingenuity, will
to dress up in a plausible form somethiug which
perfectly silly : and the degree to which this is son
is what no one can easily conceive without actus
and examination.

' It is, therefore, often useful, in dealing even
learned, to take notice of groundless and fanciful
interpretations, contained in books which probably i
will never see, and which some of them perhaps wil
hear of; because many persons are a good deal ii
reports, and obscure rumours, of the opinions of soi
learned man, without knowing distinctly what th
are likely to be made imeasy and distrustful by b
that this or that has been disputed, and so and so
by some person of superior knowledge and talents, v
ceeded on ' rational ' grounds ; when, perhaps, thej
are qualified by their own plain sense to perceive ho^
these fanciful notions are, and to form a right judgi
matters in question.

' Suppose you were startled in a dark night by son
looked like a spectre in a winding-sheet, — ^would
should bring a lantern, and show you that it was nc
white doth hanging on a bush, give you far better i
ment than he who merely exhorted you to ' look ai i
keep up your heart, whistle, and pass on ?* '

No avowedly anti-christian advocate is half so di i
those professed believers who deprecate and deride s I
evidence, — all endeavour to ' prove all things, and ho i
which is good,' and to be always ' ready to give a re
hope that is in us.' ^

^ See Elements of Logic, Appendix ui.

ESSAY XXXII. OF DISCOURSE.

Q OME in tlieir discourse desire rather commendation of wit,
^J in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment^ in
discerning what is true ; as if it were a praise to know what
might be saidj and not what should be thougbt. Some have
certain commonplaces and tbemes^ \^'herein they ai^e goodj and
want variety ; which kmd of poverty is for the most part tedious^
andj when it is ouce pcrceivedj ridiculous. The honourablest
part of the talk is to give the occasion j and again to moderate
and pass to somewhat else, for then a man leads the dance.
It is good in discourse, and speech of conversation, to vary and
intermingle speech of the preseat occasion with arguments^
talcs with reasonSj asking of questions with telling of opinions^
and jest with earnest; for it is a dull thing to tire, and as we
say noWj to jade^ anything too far. As for jest, there be certain
things which ought to be privileged from it — namely, religion,
matters of state^ great persons, any man^s present business of
importaucCj and any case that deserveth pity; yet there be
some that think their wits have been asleep, except they dart
out somewhat that is piquant, aad to the quick — that is a vein
which would be bridled : —

' Parce piier atimulia, et fortitia utere loria/'

Andj generally, men ought to find the difference between salt-
ness and bitterneas. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein,
as he maketh others afraid of his wit, &o he had need be afraid
of others' memory. He that qnestioneth much shall learn
much, and content much, but especially if he apply his questions
to the skill of the persons wliom he asketh, for he shall give
them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and himself
shall continually gather knowledge^ but let his questions not
be troublesome, for that is fit for a poser / and let him be sure

* Jade- To over-ride or dripe,

'I do not now fool myiiolf to let iraaginatba /(Kfo xac'^Shak^spere.

* 'Boy, epar© the apur^ and more tightly hold the Teins/ — Ovid, Met. iL 127,

^ Poser, Kximiner. (From povt^t to ititcrrogpite do*i4?ly-)* * She po^eii inm,
nnd alftad him to try whuthur he were tlie via-y Dukt) of York or not/ — Bacon's
Menry VIL

[Essay xxxii.] Of Discourse.

to leave other men their turns to speak — ^nay, if
that would reign and take up all the time^ let hie
to take them off, and bring others on^ as musiciai
"with those that dance too long galliards.* If y
sometimes your knowledge of that' you are thouj
you shall be thought, another time, to know that y(
Speech of a man^s self ought to be seldom, and
I knew one was wont to say in scorn, ' He must
wise man, he speaks so much of himself,^ — and thei
case wherein a man may commend himself with a
and that is in commending virtue in another, especi
such a virtue wherfiunto himself pretendeth.' Spee
towards others should be sparingly used ; for disc
to he as a field, without coming home to any mai
two nohlemen, of the west part of England, when
was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his
other would ask of those that had been at the ot
' Tell truly, was there never a flout* or dry blow g
which the guest would answer, ' Such and such a thi
The lord would say, ' I thought he would mar a goo
Discretion of speech is more than eloquence ; ai
agreeably* to him with whom we deal, is more tha
in good words or in good order. A good contini
without a good speech of interlocution, shows slown
good reply, or second speech, without a good settl
showeth shallowness and weakness. As we see in 1
those that are weakest in the course, are yet nimb

' Qalliard. A tprightly dance,

' Gay galliards here my love shall dauoe.
Whilst 1 my foes goe fighte.' — Fair Rosamond,

'What is thy excellence in a galliard. Knight ?' — Shakesj,
' That. What; that whii-h, Si:^ psigo 73,
'*l*rotend to^ La^ ctaim to. * Tho#o ooiintrics that pretend t

* Touch, JPariicuiar application, ' Dr, P^kcr^ in his icrmon
imteAfrf tlj«Tn for their being so near that they went near to tou^

* Fkmt, Jiwr; iaunf ; ffihe,

' Tlieae dwrg are barred ngainat a hiii^ Jtoul ;
Snarl if jog please; hut you ^lioll snarl Mithotit.* — J>r^
' Full of cotnpfiriaon* und wounding y2i>a/.f/ — SAaJt-#jijj*r*.

* Agreeably. In a manner mi ted.

348 Of Dhcourse, [Essay xxxii.

turn ; as it is betwixt the greyhound and the hare< To use to»
many circumstances * ere- oue come to the matter, is wearisome j
to uBe none at al]^ m blunt*

ANNOTATIONS.

Among the many just and admirable remarks in this essay
on ' Discourse/ Bacon docs not notice the distinction — whicli is
an important one — between those who speak because they wish
to say sorndhing^ and those who speak because they have some*
thing to say : that iSj between those who are aiming at displaying
their own knowledge or ability, and those who speak from ful-
nefis of matter^ and are thinkhig only of the matter, and not of
themselves and the opinion that will be formed of them. This
latter, Bishop Butler calls {in reference to writings) * a man'ia
writing with simplicity, and in earnest/ It is curious to observe
how much more agreeable is even inferior conversation of this
latter description, and how it is preferred by many, — they know
not why— who are not accustomed to analyse their own feelings,
or to inquire why they like or dislike*

Something nearly coinciding with the above distinction^ is that
which some draw between an ' uneonseious' and a ^ eonseious'
manner ; only that the latter extends to persons who are not
courting applause^ but anxiously guarding against censure. By
a ' conscious^ manner is meant, in short, a continual thought
about oneself, and about what the company will tliink of us-
The continual effort and watchful care on the part of the
speaker, either to obtain approbation, or at least to avoid dis-
approbation j always communicates itself, in a certain degree, to
the hearers.

Some draw a distinction, again, akin to the above, between
the desire to please^ and the desire to ^ir^ pleasure ; meaning by
the former an anxiety to obtain for yourself the good opinion

^ Clrtrum^imcea. Jfm*-*«ewfwi^ paHiculan ; adjuneis,

^ Thia perorEition, with fluch circumstftn^e.* — Shakf^tp^rg,
^ Ere, Bejhre, * The uubleman said unto hhxif Sir, come down ere my eblld
die.'— «/<jA» iv, 49,

£ssay xxxii.] Annotations.

of fhose you converse with, and by the other, the
tfiem.

Aristotle, again, draws the distinction between
tlie Bomolochus, — that the former seems to thr
for liis own amusement, and the other for that ol
Tt is this latter, however, that is really the ' consc
because he is evidently seeking to obtain credit a
diversion of the company. The word seems net
to -what we call a ' waff,* The other is letting
things merely from his own fulness.

When that which has been called ' consciousness
■with great timidity^ it coiistitutcs what we call
thing disagreeable to others^ and a moat intense 1
subjrct of it»

There are many (otherwise) sensible people whc
a young pei-sou of that very common complaint,
liim not to be sliy, — telling- him what an awkwai
it has, — and that it prevents his doing himself
All which is manifestly pouring oil on the fire tc
Por, the very cause of shyness is au over-anxiety
people ai-e thinking of you ; a morbid attention i
appearance. The course, thereforCj that ought to
ia exactly the reverse. The sufferer should be
think as little as possible about himself, and the op
of hiraj — to be assured that moat of the comj
trouble their heads about him, — and to harden him
impertinent criticisms that may be supposed to be
taking care only to do what is right, leaving others
say what they wilL

And the more intensely occupied any one is witli
matter of what he is saying — the business itsel
engaged in, — the less will his thoughts be turned
and what others think of him,

A , was, us a youth, most distressingly bashful,
in Orders, he was staying at a friend^s bouse, whc
also another clergyman, who was to preach, and w
to him how nervous he always felt in preaching
churchy — asking wliether the other did not feel the
haps he expected to be complimented on his mod
lepliedj ' I never allo^v myself to feel nervous i

£ssaj xxxii.] Annotations. \

*
on any one or two of tliese very persons^ &epam

in a ^eat degreej true of all men, which wai
Athenian Sj that they were like sheep, of which a
easily driven than a single one*

* Another remarkable circumstance, connected
going, is the difference in respect of the style whi
respectively, in addressing a muUitndej and two
of the same persona. A much bold^r^ as wcH as
kind of language is both allowable and advisabk
to a considerable number ; as Ariatotle has remark
ing of the Graphic and Agonistic stylee, — the forr
the closet, the latter, to public speaking befon
sembly. And he ingeniously compares them to
styles of painting : the greater the crowd, lie sa
distant is the view ; so that in scene- painting,
coarser and bolder touches are required , and tht
which would delight a close spectator, would be los
not, however, account for the phenomena in questi(

* The solution of them will be found by at ten tit
curious and complex play of sympathies which tak(
lai*ge assembly; and (within certain limits), the m
portion to its numbers. First, it is to be observed
disposed to sympathize with any emotion which w
exist in the mind of any one present j and lience,
the same time otherwise disposed to feel that ei
disposition is in consequence heightened* In the
we not only ourselves feci this tendency, but we
that others do the same; and thus, wc sympathii
with the other emotions of the rest, but also witli
pathy towards ns. Any emotion, accordingly, wliic
still further heightened by the knowledge that thej
present who not only feel the same, but feel it then
in consequence of their sympathy with ourselves*
are sensible that those around us sympathize nc
ourselves, but with each other also ; and as we en
heightened feeling of theirs likewise, the stimulus
minds is thereby still further increased.

The case of the Ludicrous affords the most obvi

1 Rhetoric, book in.

35^ Of Discourse. [Essay xxxii,

tion of these principles, firom tlie circumstance that the effects
produced are so open and palpable. If anything of this nature
occurSj you arc disposedj by the character of the tbiug itself, to
lan^h I but much morej if any one else is known to be present
T?rhom you think likely to be diverted with it ; even though that
other should not know of your presence; but much more still,
if he does know it i because you are then aware that sympathy
with your emotion heightens his : and most of all will the dis-
position to laugh be incrcasedj if many are present; because each
is then aware that they all Bjrmpatlme with each other, as weU
as with himself* It is hardly necessary to mention the exact
correspondence of the fact with the aljove explanation* So
important^ iu this case, is the operation of the causes here
noticed, that hardly any ouc ever laughs when he is quite alone ;
or if he does^ he will find, on cousideratiou, that it is from a
conception of the presence of some compauiou whom he thinks
likely to have been amused, had he been present, and to whom
he thinks of describing, or repeating, what had diverted himself-
Indeed, in other cases, as well as the one just instanced^ almost
evra^y one is aware of tbe wfecHom nature of any emotion
excited in a large assembly. It may be compared to the
increase of sound by a number of echoes, or of light, by a
number of mirrors ; or to the blaze of a heap of firebrands,
each of which would speedily have gone out if kindled sepa-
rately, but which, when thrown together, help to kindle each
other,

*The application of what lias been said to the case before us
is sufficiently obvious. In addressing a large assembly, you
know that each of them sympathizes both with your own anxiety
to acquit yourself well, and also with the same feeling in the
minds of the rest. You know also, that every slip you may be
guilty of, that may tend to excite ridicule, pity, disgust, S:c.,
makes the stronger impression on each of the hearers, from their
mutual sympathy, and their consciousness of it. This augments
your anxiety. Next, you know that each hearer^ putting himself
mentally in the speaker's place,^ sympathisses with this ang-

1 Heijce it ia that 4rAy porsons are, as ia matter of common remark, tlic mon?
distressed liy tbU iiiflrmitj when in company with tho#Q who are fiufajcct to tba
fame.

d

\

Essay xxxii.] . Annotations.

mented anxiety : which is, by this thought, increi
And if you become at all embarrassed, the knom
are so many to sympathize, not only with that
but also with each other's feelings on the |
heightens your confusion to the utmost.

'The same causes will account for a skilful
able to rouse so much more easily, and more
passions of a multitude: they inflame each ot
sympathy and mutual consciousness of it, A
that a bolder kind of language is suitable to sucl
a passage wliich, in the closet, might, just at tl
tend to excite awe, compRssion^ indignation, or i
emotion, but which would, ou a moment's cool rd
extravagant, may be very suitable for the A^
because, before that momcnt^a reflection could take
hearer's iniud, he would be aware, that every oat
sympatliized in that first craotioo ; which would tl
much heightened as to preclude, in a great degre
of any counteracting sentiment,

^If one could suppose such a case as that i
(himself aware of the circumstance), addressing
ea(?h of whom believed himself to be the sole hea^
bable that little or no erabarrassmeut would be
much more sober, calm, and finished style of lai
be adopted/

There are two kinds of orators, the distinction b(
might be thus illustrated. When the moon ahi
we are apt to say, ' How beautiful is this moon-h
the day*time, ' How beautiful are the trees, th
mountait^s V — and, in short, all the objects that are
we never speak of the sun that makes them so,
same way, the really greatest orator shines like the
you think much of the things he is speaking of;
best shines like the moon, making you think muel
his eloquence.

A \

m

Of Discourse,

[Essay x:ucii.

' To use too many circumstances^ ere you come to the matter^ h

wemisome/

Bacon might have noticed some who never ^come to the
matter/ How many a meandering discourse one hears, in
which the speaker aims at nothing, and — hits it.

* If you dissemhle someitmes your knowledge of that ymi are
thought to knom^ you shall be thought^ another time^ to know
that you know not/

This suggestion might have come in among the tricks enn-
jnerated in the Essay on ' Cunning/

ESSAY XXXIIL OF PLANTA'

PLANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primitii
works. When the world was young it be(
dren, but now it is old, it begets fewer ; for I may
new plantations to be the children of former king
plantation in a pure soil, that is, where peoplt
planted^ to the end to plant in others; for else i
extirpation than a plantation. Planting of coo
planting of wooda ; for you muflt make account
twenty years' profit^ and expeet your recompens*
for the principal thing that hath been the destri
plantations, hath been the base and hasty drawini
the first years. It is true, speedy profit is not to
as far as it may stand^ with the good of tlie plant
farther.

It is a Bhameful and unblessed thing to take
people and wicked condemned men, to be the
whom you plant ; and not only so, but it spoilet]
tion ; for they will ever live like rogues, and not
but be lazy, and do raiBchief, and spend victuals, aii
weary, and then certify over to their country to th
the plantation. The people wherewith you plant
gardeners, ploughmen, labourers, smiths, carpen
fishermen^ fowlers, with some few apothecaries, sur
and bakers. In a country of plantation, first loo'
kind of victual the country yields of itself to ha
nutSj walnuts, pine-apples, olives, dates, plums, {
honey, and the like, and make use of them. 1
what victual or esculent things there are, which ^
and within the year ; as parsneps, carrots, tumii

* PLantationi, Colt^niet, 'Towtie here are fewj eith^i- of
plantations / — Merlin .

* Displant^ ' Those French pimtes that ditplanied xaJ — Seam

* SUnd. To he ecmsistent teitK *Hi» foithlHii peoplei^ what*
ilk, th€j BliaU receive, n* ftu as may stand with the gloiy of G

A A a

Essay xxxiii.] Of Planiatians.

cannot but yield great profit; soap ashes lik
things that may be thought of; but moil^ not
ground, for the hope of mines is very uncertai
make the planters lazy in other things. For
it be in the hands of one, assisted with some i
them have commission to exercise martial la
limitation. And, above all, let men make that
in the wilderness, as' they have QoA always, a
before their eyes. Let not the government of
depend upon too many counsellors and undei
country that planteth, but upon a temperate nu
those be rather noblemen and gentlemen, than i
they look ever to the present gain. Let there
from custom, till the plantation be of strength,
freedom from custom, but freedom to carry thei
where they may make their best of them, except* '
special cause of caution. Cram not in people, b
&st, company after company, but rather heark
waste, and send supplies proportionably ; but so a
may live well in the plantation, and not by sui
penury. It hath been a great endangering to 1
some plantations, that they have built along the sc
in marish' and unwholesome grounds; therefore,
begin there, to avoid carriage and other like disc
yet build still rather upwards from the stream tt
It concemeth likewise the health of the plantati

^ Moil. TotoU: to drudge,

' Now be most moil and dradge for one be loatbes.' — 2>
' Ajk That. See page 33.
' Undertaken. Managers of affaire,

* Nay, if yoa be an widertaker, I am for joa.'^-'Shakee
^Now confined to the managers of funerals.)

* Except. Unleee. See page 382.

* Hearken. Wateh$ oheerve,

* Tbey do me too much injury

That ever said I hearkened for your deatb.'-^AaA
' I mount the terrass, thence the town survey.

And hearken what the fruitful sounds convey.'-— 2

* Marish. Marshy; swampy, ' The fen and quagmire, so ma
to be dnuned.' — Tusser.

^ Discommodities. Inconveniences, 'We stand balancing the i
two corrupt disdpUnes.'— Jlf»7^o».

have good store of salt with them^ that they may use it in their
victuals when it sliall he accessary.

If you pkrit where savages are, do not only entertain them
with trifles and gingleSj but use them justly and gracionsly^
with sufficient guard, nevertheless ; and do not win their favour
hy helping them to invade their enemies, but for their defence,
it is not amiss; and send oft* of them over to the country that
plants, that they may see a better condition than their owB,
and coniniend it when they return.

When the plantation grows to strength^ then it is time to
plant with women as well as with men, that the plantation may
spread into generations, and not be ever pieced from without.
It is the sinfullest thing in the world to forsake or destitute* a
plantation once in forwardness ; for, besides the dishonour, it i»
the guiltiness of blood of many commiserable^ persons.

ANNOTATIONS.

* It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of people,
and wicked condemned men^ to be the people with whom you
plant,'

Yet two-and-a-half centuries after Bacon's time, the BngltJ^h
government, in opposition to the remonstrances of the en-
lightened and most emphatically experienced philanthropist —
Howard j^ — established its penal colonies in Australia, and thus,
in the language of Shakespere, ' began an impudent nation.'

It is now above a quarter of a century since I began point-
ing out to the public the manifold mischiefs of such a system ;
and with Bacon and Howard on my side, I persevered in
braving all the obloquy and ridicule that were heaped on me.
But successive ministries, of the most opposite political parties,

1 Oft- OJfen (chieflj «Sed to poetry),

• OJf she rqect*, tut never onee tiffimdsk' — Fap^,

'^ Destitute, To l^are destitufc. * Hu\i\}v^ God thus iegtUutt us, yt't ovcr-
auxipty, or Sfjlicittide, or uaiug oi' uuUwful metins, can never he able to fitjcarc W
' — If a mmitttd^

* C^smmiserable* WoriAy Qf cGmpauhn. *Thi* eommiaerahU penoo, E4lwnrd,*
— Uncoira Jhnry VIL

Essay xxriii,] AnnoiaHom.

agreed in supporting what the most eminent Po
of the present day had described aa ' a system h
of all reason, and persevered iu in defiance of al

*And not only aOj but it spoihth the pla

Bacon has not pointed out one particular disa
mode of colonization. The emancipists, as th
those who have come out as convictSj— are desc
by some advocates of the system, aa for the :
unthrifty settlers ; and the currency j those born
arc represented as generally preferring a seafarl
the odious msodations of crime and slai^eiy contiei
cuitaral pursuits^ — a feding perfectly natural undc
staaces, but the very last one we would wish to tir
One of the rcsults^ — not, I apprehend, originally
when penal colonies were established in New So
the English government, — is that these 'wicki
nien^ have planted for themselves several volun
escaping in small craft either to the South St
many of which, for a good while past, each native
a prime- minister some choice graduate of the
Newgate), or, more frequentlyj to some part of
New Holland- Thus the land is certaiuly pkni
planted with the worst of weeds, according to
experiment suggestedj in the Tempest^ for Prospei

' GoHzalo, Had I plantation of tills Ule, my lord ♦
Aai^inio. He'd sow it idth aettlft seed,'

This was one of the arguments put forward I
hope of awakening the public mind to the real •
extent of the evil, in a pamphlet in the form ol
dressed to Earl Grey, from which I give some ext
' The defenders of the system generally keep ov
inoonsistency of professing to aim at the mutual
mother country and the colonics, on a plan whic!
in direct opposition : and presentj separately an
the supposed advantage of ^getting rid* (aa it
criminals, and that of encouraging a growing col
withdraw the attention from the renl iucompat
ttso.

360 Of Plantatmm. [Essay xxxiii.

' In other Bubject^ij as well as in this, I have observed that
two distinct objects may^ by being dexterously presented, again
and again in qnick succession^ to the mind of a cursory reader,
be so associated together in kw thoughts^ as to be conceived
capable^ when in fact they are not, of being actually combined
in practice. The fallacious belief thus induced bears a striking
resemblance to the optical illusion effected by that ingenious
and pliilosophical toy called the ' thanmatrope / in which two
objects painted on opposite sides of a card, — for instance, a mauj
and a horse, — a birdj and a cage, — are by a quick rotatory
motion, made to impress the eye in combination, eo as to form
one picture^ of the man on the horse's back, — the bird in the
cage, &e, As soon as the card is allowed to remain at rest, the
figures, of course, appear as they really are^ separate and on
opposite sides. A mental illusion closely analogous to this is
produced, when, by a rapid and repeated transition frona one
subject to anotlicr, alternately, the mind is deluded into an idea
of the actual combination of things that are really incompatible*
The chief part of the defence which various writers have advanced
in favour of the system of penal colonies consists, in truth, of a
sort of intellectual thaumatropc. The prosperity of the colony,
and the repression of crime, are^ by a sort of rapid whirl, pre-
sented to the mind as combined in one picture. A very
moderate degree of calm and fixed attention soon shows that
the two objects are painted on opposite sides of the card.

^ In aid of this and the other modes of defence resorted to, a
topic is introduced from time to time in various forms, which is
equally calculated to meet all objections whatever on all subjects \
— that no human system can be expected to be perfect ; tliat
some partial inconvenience in one part or in another must be
looked for; and that no plan can be so well densc<l as not to
require vigilant and judicious superintendence, to keep it in
effectual ofjeration, and to guard against the abuses to which it
is liablcj &c. &c»

' All this is Y^Tj true, but does not in reality at all meet the
present objections. Though we cannot build a house which
shall never need repair, we may avoid such a misconstruction
as shall cause it to fall down by its own weight. Though it be
impossible to construct a time-piece which shall need no wind-
ing up, and which shall go with pcifcct exactitude, we m:iy

Essay xxxiii.] Annotations.

guard against the error of making the wheels necei
each other's motions. And though a plan of pel
which shall unite all conceivable advantages and 1
abuses^ be unattainable^ it is at least something g
but keep clear of a system which by its very con
have a constant and radically inherent tendency
principal object.

* For, let any one but calmly reflect for a few
the position of a governor of one of our penal colo
the problem proposed to him of accomplishing twc
in reality inconsistent objects : to legislate and g
best manner with a view to — ist, the prosperity o.
and also, 2ndly, the suitable punishment of the con
well known that slave labour is the least profital
seldom be made profitable at all, but by the n
difficult, troublesome, and odious superintendence,
obvious way, therefore, of making the labour of the
advantageous as possible to the colony, is to ma
unlike slaves as possible, — to place them under such
and with such masters, as to ensure their obtainin
ample supplies both of necessaries and comforts, bi
spects favourable and even indulgent treatment ; in s
them as much as possible in the comfortable sitiuitioi
labourers enjoy, where labour is so valuable, as* fron
dance of land, and the scarcity of hands, it must I
settlement.

' And the masters themselves may be expected, f<

part, to perceive that their own interest (which is th

sideration they are expected to attend to) lies in

direction. They will derive most profit from their s

keeping them as much as possible in a cheerful arn

state^ cvca at the expense of connivance at many v

8o much indulgence as it would not^ in this coutitr

any master's while to grant, when he might turn ai

diiferent servant and hiro another. The master of i

lervaut* would indeed be glad^ for his own profit, to

them the utmost reasonable amount of labour, and 1

llicm in a styh of frugality equal to, or even beyoi:

labourer in Euglaud; but he will be sure to find that 1

Essay xxxiii.] Annotations.

feelings^ — ^by his regard for his own ease, — ^and bj
popularity with all descriptions of persons around
as by his regard for the prosperity of the colony, \
that object the primary and most important one
transportation, properly, a penalty. We can seld
find a governor (much less a succesnon of gover
when a choice is proposed of two objects at variai
other, to prefer the situation of keeper of a house <
to that of a goyemor of a flourishing colony. Tl
can expect is to find now and then one, crippling
of his predecessors and of his successors, by such eff(
both objects as will be most likely to defeat bol
individual settlers, to whom is intrusted the chiei
detail of the system, are not (like the governor) ei
by any requisition of duty, to pay any attention
important part of that system. They are not evei
think of anything but their own interest. The pui
the reformation of convicts are only incidental re
trusted that the settler's regard for his own interes
him exact hard labour and good conduct firom
assigned to him. But if indulgence is (as we have
to answer his purpose better than rigid discipline, he i
be upbraided with any breach of duty in resorting i \

' Of the many extraordinary features in this mosl
specimen of legislation, it is one of the most parade
intrusts a most important pubUc service, in refen i
British nation^ to men who are neither selected ;
uatiori on account of any supposed fitness to discb i
even taugbt to consider that they have any public dutj
Even ill the most negligently -governed communities
of a bouse of correction is always^ professedly at le;
with some view to his iiitcgrityj discretion^ firmoesj
qualifications ; and however ill the selection may l>e
he is at least taught to consider himself intruatedj fo '
benefit, with an office which it is his duty to dischari;
grounds. However imperfectly all this may be accom|
persons would deny tliat it is, and ought to he, at 1-
at. But this is not the case in the land of omii
paradoxus and of other paradoxes. Therej each s*
iss as his own household is concerued, the keeper ol

jiSS Of Plantations. [Essay xxiiii,

we need to shoot them like fun !' It would have been a satis-
faction to have eeeo such a heartless ruffian in an archery
groiindj with about a Bcore of expert archers at a fair distance
from hinij if only to witness how well he would personify the
representations of St. Sebastian. Tljis man waa a shrewd me-
chanic, and had been some years at Port Stephens ; if such
people consider the life of a blaek of so little value^ how is it
to be wondered at if the convicts entertain the same opinion ?
It is to be hoped that the practice of shooting them is at an
end ; but they are still subjected to annoyauce firona the stock-
keepers, who take their womeUj and do them various injuiiea
besides/*

' But to waive for the present all discussion of the moral
effects on the settlers, likely to result from the system, let it be
supposed that the labour of convicts may be so employed as to
advance the prosperity of the colony, and let it only be remem-
bered that this object is likely to be pursued both by governors
and settlers, at the expense of the other far more important
one, which is inconsistent with it, the welfare of the mother-
country, in respect of the repression of crime. This one consi-
deration, apart fi^m all others, would alone be decisive against
transportation as a mode of punuhment ; since even if the
system could be made efficient for that object^ suppomng it to te
well administtfred with a vietv to that, there is a moral certainty
that it never will be so administered,

^If there be, as some have suggested, a certain description
of offenders, to whom sentence of perpetual exile from their
native country is especially formidable, this object might easily
he attained, by erecting a penitentiary on some one of the
mauy small, nearly unproductive, and unoccupied islands in the
British seas I the conveyance to which would not occupy so
many hours, as that to Australia does weeks.

'But as for the attempt to combine salutary punishment
with successful colonization, it only leads, in practice, to the
failure of both objects; and, in the mind, it can only be effected
by keeping up a fallacious confusion of ideas,'

> Breitm^ p, 3oo,

Essay xx^iii,] Annotaiiofts,

' Plantations are amongst ancient j prwntive^ fl
, works.' I

Bp- Httids remarks on the great success w
ancient Greeks colonized ; pursuing an opposite ]
of all nations since, aud, accordingly, with oppoai

An ancient Greek colony was like what gai
layer ; a portion of the parent tree, with stem, twi^
imbedded in fresh ^oil till it had taken root, and
A modern colony is like handfuls of twigs and lei
at random^ and thrown into the earth to take thei

' Above ally let men make that profit of being in t
that ihey have God always j and his servia
eyesJ

Every settler in a foreign colony iSj necessarily,
a missionary to the aborigines — a miasiouary fox
missionary for evil, — operating upon them by 1
example.

It is often said that our colonies ought to provi
own spiritual wants. But the more is done for tl
wayj the more likely they will be to make such pr(
the more they are neglected, the less likely they i
It is the peculiar nature of the inestimable treasure
truth and religious knowledge, that the more it
from people, the less they wish for it ; and the more
npon themj the more they hunger and thirst after it
are kept upon a short allowance of food^ they are i
tain it ; if you keep a man thirsty, he will becom
more thirsty ; if he is poor, he ia exceedingly anxioi
rich ; but if he ia left in a state of spiritual de&tit\
time he wUl, and still more his children, cease to
cease to care about it. It is the last want men ca
(in the first instance) to supply for themselves.

ESSAY XXXIV. OF RICHES.

I CANNOT call riclies better tlmn the baggage of virtue; the
Roman "tvord is better — impedimenta;^ for as the baggage is
to an arrayj ao is riches to virtue — it cannot be spared nor left
behindj but it bindereth the march \ jea, and the care of it
sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory* Of great riches
there is no real ubCj except it be in the distribution ; the rc^t is
hut conceit ; so saith SoIoraoUj ^ Where much iSj there are many
to consume it ; and what hath the owner but tlie sight of it
with his eyes?'- The personal fruition in any man cannot reach
to feel great riches : there is a custody of them^ or a power of
dole/ and a donative of them, or a fame of tbem^ but no solid
use to the owner. Do you not sec what feigned prices are set
upon little stones and rarities — and what works of ostentation
are undertaken^ because * there might seem to be some use of
great riches ? But then, you will say^ tiiey may be of use to
buy men out of dangers or troubles ; aa Solomon saith, ' Kiches
are as a stronghold in the imagination of the rich mau ;^ * but
this is ex cell cut ly expressedj that it is an i magi u at ion j and not
always iu fact ; for^ certainly great riches have sold more men
than they have bought out* Seek not proud riches, but such
as thou may est get justly, use soberly^ distribute cheerfully^ and
leave contentedly ; yet lia?e uo abstract or friarly contempt of
theraj but distinguish, aa Cicero saith well of Eabirius Pos-
thumusj ^In studio rei amplificaudBCj apparebat, non avaritiae
prEedam, sed instrumentum bonitati quaeri/'' Hearken also to
SolomoUj and beware of haaty gathering of riches : ^ Qui festinat
ad divitiaSj nou erit iusous/ ^ The poets feign that when Plutus
(which is riches) is scut from Jupiter^ he limps^ and goes slowJy^
but when he is sent from Pluto, he runSj and is swift of foot ;

^ Impedimentfl. Wndrance^. * BecUt. t, ii,

^ Dole* A dealing outf or dtttribuiiafk.

* It wft« your pre-ennntse,
That in the doU of blows, your ion might drop/

* Bi^cattse. For tht rffo^on ih^j in order ihtU, See page 269.

* Pm^erba i, 1,15; cf. siviU. 1 1.

* * In his desire of increasing Mb riohcfl, he Bought not, it was evident) the
gratifimtvon of avarice, but liie raeniis of beneficeuce/ — Ck, P. Rahir. j,

J ' He that maketh haste to be ridi, ahaU not be innooenU'— Plro*, xtriii* ao.

37^ ^/ Ricftes. [Essay xxxiv.

and instruments to draw them on ; put off others cunningly
that would be better chapmen,* and the like practices, which are
crafty and naughty.^ As for the chopping of bargains^ w^hen a
mau buys not to holdj but to sell over again, that commonly
griudeth double^ both upon the seller and npon the buyer.
Sliarings do greatly enrich, if the hands be well chosen that arc
truBted. Usury m the ccrtainest means of gain, though one of
the worst, as that whereby a man doth eat his bread, * in sudore
vuUus alieni/ ^ and besides^ doth plough upon Sundays ■ but yet
certain though it be, it hath flaws : for that the scriveners and
brokers do value * unsound men, to serve their own turn. The
fortune in l>cing the first in an invention, or in a privilege, doth
cause sometimes a wonderful overgrowth in riches ; as it was
with the first sugar man in the Canaries : therefore, if a man
can play the true logician, to have as well judgment as inven-
tion, he may do great matters, especially if the times be fit.
He that resteth ^J\)on gains certain, shall hardly grow to great
riches ; and he that puts all npon adventures, doth oftentimes
break and come to poverty ; it is good, therefore, to guard ad-
ventures with certainties that may uphold losses. Monopolies,
aad coemption of wares for re-salc, where they are not restrained,
are great means to enricli ; especially if the party have intelli-
gence what things are like to come into request, and so store
himself beforehand. Eichea gotten by service, though it be of
the best risCj yet when they are gotten by flattery, feeding
humours, and other servile conditions, they may Ije placetl
amongst the worst. As for ' fishing for testaments and execu-
torships,' (as Tacitus saith of Seneca, 'Testameuta et orbos
tanquam indagine capi*') it is yet worse, by how much men
submit themselves to meaner persons than in service.

Believe not much them that seem to despise riches, for they
despise them that despair of them ; and none worse, when they
come to them. Be not penny-wise ; riches have wings, and
sometimes they fly away of themselves, sometimes they must be

' Chapmen. Purchasers,

* Fftir Dioraede, you do as chapmen do —
DiBprais* tb© thing that thej mtcnd to huj/^Shaketpefv^
^ Naught or Nanghty. Bad. * The water is nau^ht^ and the ground baTren*'
— 2 Kinffs xL 19. ^ ' In tho sweat of anothor'a brow/

■" Vftluo. Represent as trvstitorihi/,
* * Willa and childlere parraUa, taken as with & net.* — Tacit, Ann, xuL 42.

Essay xxxiv.] Annotations.

poor country, are comparatively rich, are quite i
as any to the temptation of pride.

'As for what may be said respecting ava
worldly-mindedness, &c., it may suffice to replj
these vices are found as commonly in poor coun
but evto in the same country the poor are
liable to them than the rich. Those in afflueni
may be absorbed in the pursuit of gain; but
and sometimes do, devote themselves altogethe
or science, or other pursuits, altogether remc
those, on the other hand, who mtist maintain
labour or attention to business, are at least
liable to the temptation of too anxiously taking tl
morrow.

* Luxury, again, is one of the evils represented
on wealth. The wprd is used in so many senses
without attaching any precise meaning to it, that g
is apt to be introduced into any discussion in wh
Without, however, entering prematurely on any su
it may be sufficient, as far as the present question
to point out that the terms luxury, and luxurious,
ably modified as to their force, according as the^
to individuals or to nations. As an individual, a
luxurious, in comparison with other men, of the san
and in the same walk of life with himself: a na
luxurious in reference to other nations. The s
living which would be reckoned moderate and fi
penurious among the higher orders, would be ce
travagant luxury in a day-labourer : and the laboi
he lives in a cottage with glass-windows and a
wears shoos and stockings, and a linen or cotton
said to live in luxury^ though he possesses what wou
luxuries to a negro-prince, A rich and luxuriona
torCj does not necessarily contain more individua
luxury (according to the received use of the word
one ; but it possesses more of such things as won
in the poor country, while in the rich one they a]
incliuatiou for self-indulgence and ostentation is e
lesa strong in poor than in rich nations ) the chid
that their luxury is of a coaraer description, and

'EassLj xxxiy.] Annotations.

. . • . ' Among poor and barbarian natioma
XQUch avarice^ fraud, vanity^ and envy, called fi
perhaps to a string of beads, a hatchet, or a n
be found in wealthier communities/

. . . . ^ The savage is commonly found to 1
quently rapacious, when his present inclinatioi
seek any object which he needs, or which his
He is not indeed so steady or bo provident, in his
as the civilized man; but this is &om ,the genei
and improvidence of his character, — ^not from his
in higher pursuits. What keeps him poor, in a
of skill aud insecurity of property, is not a phi
tempt of nchesj but a love of sluggish torpor
grati^cation. The Bame may be said of such |
stitute the dregs of a civilized CKimmunity; \
ihoughtlesB, improvident, but thievish. Lament)
see, as we may, for instance^ in our own country,
Beings of such high qualifications and such liij
B& Man, absorbed in the pursuit of merely extert
temporal objects — occupied in schemes for attaini:
worldJy aggrandizement, without any higher viev
them, — we must remember that the savage is noi
life, but behw it. It is not fi-om preferring virtu
the goods of the mind to those of fortune — the i
the present — that he takes so little thought for
but, from want of forethought and of habitual i
The civilized mmi, too often, directs these qualit
Tvorthy object ; the savage, universally, is deficieni
ties themselves. The one is a stream, flowing, t
wrong channel, and which needs to have its ooursi
other is a stagnant pool/

* There is one antecedent presumption that the
in national wealth should be, on the whole, favour
improvement, from what we know of the dinue
both ordinary and eitraordinary. I am aware w
called for in any attempt to reason a priori froi
of the character and designs of the Supreme Bi
this case there is a clear analogy before us* We k
placed the human species in such a situation, and
With such faculties and propensities, as would infa

* \ t iJ * ^ **Q**

J. «iv juj.%ja%t 4.^1 n^ixKi Duu uvnu^a makjjh

necessarily bear the most abundant harvest ; its weeds, if
neglectaJj wiJl grow the rankest. And the servant who has
received but one talent, if he put it out to use^ will fare better
than he who haa been intrusted with five, if he squander or
bury them. But still, this last does not suffer because he
received five talents j but because he has not used them to
advantage/

ESSAY XXXV. OF PROPH]

I MEAN not to speak of divine prophecies^
oracles, noj of natural prcdictionSj but on
that have been of certaiu memoryj and fro«
Saith the Pythonis^^a^ to Saulj 'To-morrow thi
eball be with me/* Virgil hatb these verses fi

' At domus Mtuso' conctU iiominHbitur qrifi,
Et nati natoruin, et qm uascoQtur ib illis f

a prophecv, as it seems, of the Eomau empii

tragedian hath these verses :

' VeniPiit Jinma

Vinculft r4jnim lajint, et iiig<;iw
Piit'eiit tell 11^ Tiph^Acjuti novo«
I>ct«gftt orl>ea ; nee alt term
Ultima TLde:'*

a prophecy of the discovery of America, Th
Poiycrates dreamed that Jupiter hathcd her fath
anointed him ; and it came to paaa that he was i
open placOj where the sun made his body run w
the rain washed it** Philip of Macedon^ dreame
hia wife's belly; whereby he did expound itj
should be barren; but Aristander, the soothsaye
wife was with child, because men do not use to st
are empty* A phantom that appeared to M*
tentj said to him, ^Philippts iterum me videbi
said to Galba, ' Tu qnoque^ Galba^ degustabis in
Vespasian's time there went a prophecy in the E
that should come forth of Judea should reign o
which, though it may be was meant of our Savioi

* Pjtbo&laBfl. /yAywe-w. * i Sam.

* ' Ovtsr every shore the house of iEnetia sIibII reign; hU diiltj
their jioaterity VikevmeJ^^tieid, lii. 97*

^ ' There shuU come r tiniCj in laWr og^^, when Ocfflii shall n
a va»t cjntttieni ajj'piMr ; atid a pilut sluiU find new worl<JU, and
mon; earth's honnd-'^Sen, Med. iL 375.

s H/rjthd, Til. 34. * Plot, ra, A

J ■ Thou ahalt see me agtiln at Fliillppi/— Appinn, Belt. Cir, i
^ * Thyu, ulaOp OglbiS almli inMUi of tmpire/— SUt, Fii. Uaii

expounds it of Vespasian,* Domitian drearaed^ tte night before

he was slain, that a golden head was growing out of the nape

of his neck;^ and, indeed, the snccession that followed hitn,

for many years, made golden times, Henry VI, of England

said of Henry VIT, when he was a lad, aud gave him water^

' This is the lad that shall enjoy the crowD for which we

strive/ Wien I was in France^ I beard from one Dr, Pena,

that the queen-mother, who was given to curious arts, caused

the king her hushaud^s nativity to be calculated under a false

name, and the astrologer gave a judgment that he should be

killed in a duel ; at which the queen laughed, thinking her

husband to be above challenges and duels ; but he was slain

upon a course at tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery

going in at his beaver. The trivial propliecy which 1 heard

when I was a child, and Queen Ehzabeth was in the flower of

her yeiu^Sj was,

' When bempo is ipun,
Engknd's done ;'

whereby it was generally conceived, that after the priuces had
reigned which had the principal letters of that word hempe,
which were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth,
England should eome to utter confusion ; wiiich, thanks be to
God, is verified in the change of the name, for the king^s style
is now no more of England, but of Britain. There was also
another prophecy before the year of eighty-eight, which I do
not well understand :

' There shall be ac^jn n]ion » day,
Bctwi^n the liaiigh^ and the Maji
llitj Black fleet of Norway.
When thht ia coine nud gone,
England build houj*es of lime and stones
Por after wnra ahaU yon bavo none/

It was generally conceived to be meant of tlje Spanish fleet that
came hi eighty-eight ; for that the king of Spain's surname, as
they say, is Norway, The prediction of Regiomontanus,

* Octogeainans octavna mirabillB annus i**

was thought likewise acconiplisbcd in the sending of that great

* Tacit. MUL v. 13. ° Suet. fil. Bom it 23.

* llangh. jficff^/i ^jrybiibly)* '*' Kighly-eJgUt, a wonderful y

Essay xxxv.] Of Prophecies. '

fleet, being the greatest in strength, though n
all that ever swam upon the sea. As for C
think it was a jest — it was, that he was devo
dragon ; and it was expounded of a maker <
troubled him exceedingly. There are numbers
especially if you include dreams, and predictioi
but I have set down these few only of cer
example. My judgment is, that they ought all
and ought to serve but for winter-talk by the fi
when I say despised, I mean it as for belief — fo
spreading or publishing of them is in no sort t
for they have done much mischief, and I see m
made to suppress them. That that hath given i
some credit, consisteth in three things. First, i
when they hit, and never mark when they mis
generally, also of dreams. The second is, that
jectures, or obscure traditions, many times turn 1
prophecies : while the nature of Man, which cove
thinks it no peril to foretell that which indee
collect, as that of Seneca's verse ; for so much wi
to demonstration, that the globe of the earth h
beyond the Atlantic, which might be probably co
be all sea, and adding thereto the tradition in F
and his Atlantictis,^ it might encourage one to tu
diction. The third and last, which is the grea
almost all of them, being infinite in number, ha\
tures, and by idle and crafty brains, merely
feigned, after the event past.

' ArUtoph. Eqnit, 195.
' Of. By. *Le8t a more honourable man than thou be bidden of I

* CrUias.

Esaay x^txv.] Annofatiom. i

Ttonsly to the appointment of any of the autlio
office, the inspectors are bound to look over thi
produce^ as a set-off against a candidate's clai
CGssfuI prediction he may have made. Many a
Trhom important public trusts are committed,
such an institution had been established, wou.
Iiave formally recorded, under the influenco of i
own incapacity.

' Men mark when they hii, and never mark whi

This remark, as well as the proverb, ' What is
what is missed is mystery/ would admit of much
The most general statement would be nearly thi
maxim, * De non apparentibus ct non cxistentit
ratio ;' for in all matters^ men are apt to trc^t
non-existentj whatever does not come under their
notice.

No doubtj if all the pocket-booka now exist
inspected^ some thousands of memoranda would
dreams, visions, omens, presentiments. Sec., kept to
tlier they are fulfilled ; and when one is, out of sc
of thousands, this is recorded ; the rest being nev
So Bion, when shown the votive offerings of those '
saved from shipwreck, asked, * Where are the rec<
who were drowned in spite of their vows ?'

Mr, Senior has remarked in his Lectures on Poliii
that the sacrifice of vast wealth, on the part of a ^
for the gain — and that, comparatively, a trilling gaii
fnl of monopolists, is often submitted to patient
gain being concentrated and the loss diffused, Bi
not have occurred so often as it has, were it i
diffusion of the loss causes its existence — that is, iti
a loss so increased — to be unpercetved. If a millio
are each virtually taxed half-a-crown a year in {
price of some article, through the prohibition of fn
hapa not above a shilling of this goes to those who
monopoly. But this million of shillings, amountin

1 S^'AntioUtiOTJ*' on EwftyXXHI.

Essay xxxv.]

Annotations,

* there are no more particles of dust in the s\
the rest of the room ; though we see them beti

All these^ and a multitude of other cases^
general formula above stated : the tendency
amount of whatever is seen and known, as com
is unknown, or less known, unseen, and indefin:

Under this head will come the general tenc
rate the preventive effects of any measure or i
for good or for evil. E.g. in the prevention
plain that every instance of a crime committed, i
actually inflicted, is an instance of failure in
which penalties were denounced. We see the
take place, and the punishments ; we do not see
would be committed if punishment were abolishe

Essay xxxvi.] Of Ambiticn.

because he cannot see about him. There is
bitiouR raen in pulling down the greatness of *
overtops; as Tiberins nscd Macro in the p
Sejaims, Since^ thereforCj thej must be used
there resteth^ to speak how they are to be bi
may be leas dangerous. There is less danger '
be of mean biith^ than if they be noble ; and if
liarsih of nature, than gracious and popular,
rather new raised, than grown cunning^ and fc
greatness* It is counted by some a weakness in
favourites, but it is, of all others, the best i
ambitious great ones ; for when the way of j
displeasuring^ lieth by the favourite, it is impos
should be over great. Another means to cui
balance them by others as proud as they ; but tl
be some middle counsellors to keep things ateac
that ballast, the ship will roll too much* At the
may animate and inure^ some meaner persons to
ambitions men. As for the having of them obno
if they be of fearful natures, it may do well, I
stout and daring, it may precipitate their desig
dangerous. As for the pulling of them down,
require it, and that it may not be done with sa
fEfi^only way is, the interchange continually oj

' Rest, To remain,

* FoIIgd be is ; and now
Wlint rests btit that the r»ortal jseptence poA
On biH tTatiugresslou/— Jfi7/cni.

^ PlenBUTo (not used an a verb)* To please j to grafij\f. * J
giv« bun cattlo, and ijn pUfvfure bim othgrw^/ — a Macc^ee* 3
*Nikyj the birds' rtsral music, too,

Ai if tbey sang to pleasure yon*'-^Cowief^

* IHspleaBTire* Tu dUpUttte.

* InuTC, lb make uw of. (From an old word — Mire/)
mfflcipnt for any man^s conscionce to biuld such pTocceding* iipo
b«n pat in ure for the establiahmcut of tln&t cAuse.' — Hooker,

* UUdquoiu. Liable to ; iw peril ofi sulject to,

* But what will not nmbition and revenge
Descend to ? Who aspii-es^ umst down as luw
Afl bigb be suar'd j obnoxious^ tr%% or Ust^
To baacist things/ — Milton.

C C 2

as it were J in a wood. Of am bit 1 on s, it is less harmful/ the

ambition to prevail in great things, than that other to appear

in every thing ; for that breeds eon fusion, and mars business j

hut yet it is less danger to have an ambitious man stirriJig in

business^ than great in dependencies.^ He that seeketh to be

eminent amongst able men^ hath a great task^ but that is ever

good for the Public j but he that plots to be the only figure

amongst cyphers, is the decay of a whole age. Honour hath

three things in it ; the vantage ground to do good^ the approach

to kings and principal persons, and the raising of a man^a own

fortunes. He that hath the best of these intentions, when he

aspireth, is an honest man ; and that prince that can discern of

these intentions in another that aspire th, is a wise prince.

/i Generally, let princes and States chuse such ministers as are

//more sensible of duty than of rising^ and mic]\ as love fausi neg^

f I rather upon conscience than upon braveiyi' and let t hem dia-

'eem a busy nature from a willing mind.

ANNOTATION.

' T?ie vantage -ground to do good/

I [ Ambition^ meaning a desire to occupy a high station for whicK
one thinks himself fit, is not^ in itself, anything bad. But
its excess being thought much more common, and being cer-
tainly much more conspicuous than a deficiency, and having
done so much mischief in the world — lience, ambition is com-
monly regarded as a mere evil. And if all meu were both
infallible judges of their ownj and of other men's qualifications.

i

^ Disgraces, Ach of unMndnett ; repuhe^, ' Her duf^'&ce* to bim Wtte
graced bj bijr <?xt'elk*nee.* — Sir Fkilip Sidrte^.

'-" Harmful. JiMrffuL Sec page %2**

^ Bejjendencies- Tfdngs or pen^tt^ under commft^mft or at dUpottat. 'Tbo
fiGCfond niitural dlviaioii of pov¥er» U of sueh msQ who hare ai^^mricd large pomsfr*
ftiona, Hnd coiiiK.'qxit?iitlyj dspendeiwiex/^Sti'^y^^

* Britvt'ry* OHenl^iiott ; parade.

* The bravery of hi» grief did put me into a towei-iug pulsion /^ — Skak0*ptrt*

Essay xxxvi.]

Annotation.

and also completely devoted to the public go
regardless of personal inconvenience and toil, r
that there should be no such thing as ambition,
are^ an excessive dread of indulging ambition, o
pected of it, may keep back some from acting a {
part for which they were well fitted. Thus, somi
that it would have been well for America if ^
had enough ambition to have made himself perpe
and established the office as hereditary.

ESSAY XXX VIL OF MASQUES^ AND
TRIUMPHS.^

THESE things are but tojs to come amongBt such serious
observatious ; but yetj since princes will have such things^
it is better they should be graced with elegance,^ than daubed
with cost. Dancing to aoiig is a thing of great state and
pleasure. I understand it that the eong be in quire^ placed
aloft^ and accompanied with some broken musicj and the ditty*
fitted to the device. Acting iu songj especially in dialogues,
hath an extreme good grace — I say acting, not dancing (for
that is a mean and vulgar thing) ; and the voices of the dialogue
would'* be strong and manly (a bass and a tenor, no treble),
and the ditty high and tragical^ not nice^ or dainty J Several
quires placed one over against auotherj and taking the voice
by catches^ anthcm-wiBC^^ give great pleasure* Turning dances
into figure is a childish curiosity i and geueiidly let it be noted,
that those things which I here set down, are such as do na-
turally take the sense, and not respect petty woiiderraenta *
It is truCj the alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and without
noise, are things of great beauty and pleasure; for they feed
and relieve the eye before it be full of the same object. Let

^ Masqiidp ^ dramatic perfo-rmance QHfff»tiu6 occa^ioms. 'Comtia* A ^(ss^tut
pr<meuted at Lndlow Castle, 1634/

' Triampbfi. Publi^c ^hotvs.

' WLflt noivs from Oxfortl ? Hold those justa and triumpht f '—SMke^pere.

^ Elegancy . JSle^atice, ' Si, Augiistine, out of a kind of eiegancg m wntingt
mahes somi^ difiference.* — Maleltfh,

* Ditty* A pt^m to he mi»g. (Now otily oecd in bai-lcBqUL\)

' Meanwliik the roral diitiet wore iiat mute,
Ttiinj^iertid to the oateo fiute/ — Milton.

* Would, Should. See page 333.

* Nice. Mifmtel^ acenraie^

'■ The kttor w^ not nhsj but full of c^burgo

Of dear import/ — Shak^gpere.
^ Dainty, Affhctedfi/ Jltte.

* Your ddinttf speakers liave tbe cupfe.

To pl^id bad causn^ down to worw«'^Pr*or»

* WtBG, Wm^s; muftfier of inoth. (Seldom now used as ik limple word,)

'Tim aoug slie sings in moat commanding wise/ — Spetknnr,

* Wonderment. AslofiUhment ^ jmrpriife.

'liavkbed with FaQcy's wond^rmeid/ — Sjteitter^

pigmies^ tiirquets/ nymphs, rustics, Cupidsj statues moving, and
the like* As for angel s, it ia not coinicar enough to put theni
in anti- masques ; aud anything that is hideous, as devils, giants,
isj on the other side, as unfit ; but chiefly, let the music of them
he recreative, and with some strange chaoges. Some sweet
odours suddenly coming forthj without any drops falling, are, in
such a company, as there is steam and heat, things of great
pleasure and refreshment. Double masquesj one of nieuj another
of ladies, addeth state and variety ; but all is nothing, except
the room be kept clear and neat.

For justs, and tournies,^ and barriers, the glories^ of thera
are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their
entry, especially if they be drawn with strange beasts, as lions^
bears, camels, and the like ; or, in the devices of their entrance,
or in bravery^ of their liveries, or in the goodly furniture of
their horses and armour* But enough of these toys.

ANNOTATIONS.

^ These things ore but toys . * . ,'

Bacon seems to think some kind of apology neces^saTy for
treating of matters of this kind in the midst of grave treatises.
But his taste seems to have lain a good deal this way* Ue is
reported to have always shown a great fondness for spleudonr
and pageantry^ and everything that could catch the eye aud

* TiH-qneU. (Probtibly) Turh^,
" CotLiiciiU CoWc.

^ Tyurneji. Tournament,

* Not bat tlie mode of that romantic Aga^
Tbe Bge of ioura^tfSf triumplie, mid quiunt maaqaea^
G1art*d lA'ith ^ntustic piij^euutry wLieh dimmod
The sober iiye of trutb, Mid dfkkzlod a'ao.
Tbe BOge \iimse\f*— Mason.

* Glory, SpUndour ; magnificence^ * Solomon, in nU h\s ^loiy^ wia not armyed
Mite one of th^^/— Matthew.

* Brflvety. Fttiety. * Id tbiit day tbe Lord i^dll t4ike iiwny the bravery of th«r
tinkling omnmcrjU abotit thetr feet.* — ijrtiia/* [ii. i8,

* A stately ship, vnth jill her i^ravery oPi
And tuokle tiiin.'^^l/i^/i^iii.

Essay xxxvii.]

Annotations.

make a display of wealth and magnificence
accounted^ in such a great philosopher, somethi
is worth remarking that the term ' frivolous' i
(by those who use language with care and corre
interest shown about things that are little to tb
tion. For, little and great, — trifling or import!
terms. If a grown man or woman were to be
doll, this would be called excessively frivolous ;
a little girl frivolous for playing with a doll.

ESSAY XXXVIII. OF NATURE IN MEN.

I^ATUHE is oftett hiddeiij sometimes overcome, seldom es-
-LH tiiigTiished, Force maketh nature more violent in the
returiij doctrine and discourse maketh nature less importune,'
but custom only doth alter and subdue uature. He that seekcth
victory over bis nature, let him not set himself too great ner
too ^mall tasks ; for the first will make feim dejected by often
failings and the second will make bim a small proceeder, though
by often prevailing. And, at the tirst, let him practise with helps,
as swimmers do with bladders or rushes; but^ after a time, let
him practise with disadvantages, as dancers do with thick shoes,
for it breeds great perfection if the practice be harder than the
use. Where nature is mighty, and therefore the victory hard,
the degrees had need be^ first to stay and arrest nature in time ;
(like to him that woidd say over the four-and-twenty letters
when he was angry) tlien to go less in quantity ; as if one should,
in forbearing wine^ eome from drinking healths to a draught at
a meal ; and^ lastly, to discontinue altogether ; but if a man
have the fortitude and resolution to enfranchise himself at once^
that is the best :—

'Optitnas iUe imlmi vindex, Is^entm poetm
VmcuJa qui rnpit, dgduliutqae tiemel/'

Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand, to
a contrary extreme, whereby to set it right ; understanding it
where the contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a man force a
habit upon himself with a perpetual continuance, but with some
intermission, for both the pause reinforceth the new onset ; and
if a man that is not perfect be ever in practice, he shall as well
praetise his erroi-s as his abilities, and induce one habit of
both, and there is no means to help this but by seasonable
intermission. But let not a man trust his victory over his nature
too far^ for nature will lie buried a great time, and yet revive
upon the occasion or temptation ; like as it was with JJsop's

* Importune. ImpQttnnate ; IrQ^Mesome, See jiflgG 9^^.

' * Il« b the beat ajsscrtcir of the aoiil^ who buratft the boiitb that gaU JiU hrtai**
and Bua'ers aUj at oir^s' — Ch id, R, Amoj\ ay 3.

39$ Of Nature in Men. [Essay ^iviii.

ANKOTATIOKS.

' Neither is the ancient i^h amhSj to bend Nature as a wandj
to the contrary extreme ^ whereby to set it right'

This ' ancient rule ^^ needs to be qualified by a caution
against 'bending the wand' too far: an error eometimea
committed by well-intentioned persons* If A. confesses^ and
with truth, that he is conscious of a natural tendency
towards parsimony ^ and B. that his natural leaning is
towards careless prodigalityj it is yet possible we may find,
in practice^— greatly to the astonishment of some — that A,
errSj when he does err^ generally on the side of profijsioUj
and B. on that of parsimony ; each having guarded exclusively
against a danger on one sidcj and thinking that he cannot go
too far the other way. So, also, one who is excessively in dread
of over- deference for some highly-esteemcd and venerated friend,
may, perhaps, in practice, ' bend the wand ' too far the other
way. His veneration will then be theoretical and general ;
while^ practically J and in almost every particular instance ^ he
ivill be cherishing, as a matter of duty, a strong prejudice
against every proposal, decision, measure, institution, person^
or thing J that his friend approves »

I have noticed in the ^Annotations^ on Essay VI. a like error,
in carrying to a faulty excess the endeavour to repress all ill
ieelings towards one who has injured one^s self: the error,
namely^ of breaking down, in his favour, the boundaries of
right and wrong, and treating a man as blameless or laudable,
because it is to t^ he has done a wrong,

' A man^s nature is best perceived in privatcness ; . ... in
pasdon : . . . * and in a ruew case or esperiment/

To this excellent list of things that show nature. Bacon
might have added small things rather than great, ' A straw
best shows how the wind blows,' The most ordinary and nn-
jmiH>rtant actions of a man^s life will often show more of his
natural character and his habits, than more important actious

Essay xxxviii.] Annotations.

which are done deliberately, and sometimes a
inclinations.

On this is founded the art which many per
of them probably empty pretenders) now p
some ^ Graptomancy' — the judging of charj
writing. Amidst much delusion and quack
that some persons do possess a gift by which
some wonderful hits. And to those who {
matter as absurd^ it may easily be proved noi
is something in it^ but that they themselves th
are accustomed to speak of a ^ man's hand ^ a
and it is plain the difference must depend on sc
since there is no call for muscular strengtl
agaiii^ speak of a ^ geiited ' and a ' vulgar ^ hanc
isj however (aa was justly remarked by the lab
ston)j no greater indication of character in i
writinff^ than in his way of walkings or of wipi
But the difference is^ that^ in all the other t
the oljservatioii of manner is only moifientan
writuiff, there is a permanent record of it,
examined at leisure.

' A man^s nature runs either to herbs or weeds : i
seasonably water the one and destroy I hi

There are some considerations with regard to
unnoticed by Bacon^ which arc very important^ i

absolute necessity of great watchfulness, candour
in those who would, indeed, desire to ' deatr
Human nature (as I have observed in a former ^
aud everywhere, in the most important points, si
same ; circumstantially and estcrually, men's
conduct are infinitely various in various times ai
the former were not true^ — if it were not for th
agrcementj — history could funiish no inBtruotioi
were not true, — if there were not these apparcii
etantial differences^ — hardly any one could fail t
iustruction, For^ few arc so dull as not to It
from the records of past experience in cases pret
their own* But aa it is^ much candour and dili]

ESSAY XXXIX. OF CUSTC
EDUCATION.

MEN^S thoughts are much accordiug to 1
their discourse and speeches according
and infused opinions ; but their deeds are aft
been accustomed : and, therefore, as Machi
(though in an evil-favoured instance), there is r
force of nature, nor to the bravery of words, ex
borate' by custom. His instance is, that for 1
a desperate conspiracy, a man should not rest
ness of any man^s nature, or his resolute undert
such a one as hath had his hands formerly
Machiavel knew not of a friar Clement, nor a
Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar Gerard; yet his rui
that nature, nor the engagement of words, are
as custom. Only, superstition is now so well
men of the first blood are as firm as butchers
and votary* resolution is made equipollent to c
matter of blood. In other things, the predoraic
is everywhere visible, insomuch as a man would
men profess, protest, engage, give great words, ai
as they have done before, as if they were de
engines, moved only by the wheels of custom* T
reign or tyranny of custom , what it ia* The I;
the scot of their wise men) lay themselves quiet]
of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire ;

* After, According to. * That yo a«ek not aJUr your own li€
' He who was of the bondwoman wm bom after the flesh.'— i
not with ti» after out lina.' — Litany.

* As. That, See page 23*

* Corroborate. Corrohoraied ; strengthened : made firm.

* IHa heart is ei^rrvhor^te* — Sh^kcufere.
^ HcfT^sre not. This double negative ia u&ed frei|uentlj bj-
' JVor to no Eoinan else/ — Sh^espere.
' Another sort there be, that will
Be tftlking of the fiiiries still,
Nor H&cer can they have their fiU.'-^Dna
> Totaix,. ComeeroM Ay a vow.

400 Of Custom and Education, [Essay xxxix*

Btrive to be burned with the corpse of their husbauds. The
lads of Sparta/ of ancient tiraej were Tvoiitto be scourged upon
the altar of Diana, without ^o much as queching,^ I remember,
in the beginning of Queen Ebzabeth^s time of England, an
Irish rebel condemned, put up a petition to the deputy that be
might be hanged in a withe,^ and not in a halter^ because it
bad been so need with former rebels. There be monks in
Russia J for pcnancBj that will sit a whole night in a vessel of
water j till they be engaged with hard ice.

Many examples may be put of the force of custom^ both upon
mind and body : therefore, since custom is the principal magis-
trate of man^8 lifcj let men by all means endeavour to obtain good
customs. Certainly^ custom is most peifeet when it bcginucth
in young years : tbis we call educatiou, which is^ in effectj but an
early custom. So we see in languages, the tone is more pliant to
all expressions and sounds, the joints are more supple to all feats
of activity and motions in youth than aftcrwardfi; for it is true,
the late learners cannot so well take up the ply, except it be iu
some minds, that have not suffered themselves to fixj but have
kept themselves open and prepared to receive continual amend-
nieutj which is exceeding rai'e i but if the force of custom,
simple and separate, be great, the force of custom, copulate and
conjoined, and coUegiatej is far ^eater; for there example
teachethj company eomforteth,* emulation quiekeaeth^ glory
raiseth \ so as in such places the force of custom is in his*
exaltation. Certainly, the great multiplication* of virtues upon
human nature resteth upon societies well ordained and dis-

> Cic. TmvfkL DmL iL 14.

* Queck (pruperlj^ quicli). To move} to slir.

* Untlerre lier feet, there as bIid sate,
An buge groiit Jyou Itiye, that mote app*lle
An bardy eour.tge; likt} cuptived thrall
Witb a strong Iroa chain and coUat bontldf^ —
Not once he could nor move uor quick/ — Sjte^ji^er,

* Wlths, Tmps, or hands of tiviffw, 'If thej bind ine with ser^D gr^en «itk^
then shall I be w^k/ — Jvd^rs xvi^ 7,

* Comfurt. To sfrenf/th^n rt* an auxitiartf ; to kelp, (The meaning of the
OPiginnl Latin word, Confortu.) 'Now we oihort yon brethren, comfori the feehli2<
mmded.' — ^l Ti^eu. v, 14,

' Hk. lis, ' But God giveth it a body as it bstb pleaaed Him, md to evc:^
g^d hh own body/ — i Cor. iv. 38.

* Multiplication upon. * Tncrtiuiie and muliipf^ upon m thy meK^-,*- — Cul^eHJbr
the 4/5 A Sunday qfter Trinil^*

1

Essay xxxix.] Annotations.

ciplinedj for commonwealths and good govei^
virtue grown, but do not much mend the seec
is, that the most effectual means are now a
least to be desired.

ANNOTATIONS.

* Men's thoughts are much according to their t
discourse and speeches according to their lea
opinions, but their deeds are after as

accustomed.'

This remark, like many others. Bacon b
Latin into the very brief and pithy apophthcf
given in the ^ Antitheta on Nature in Met
secundum naturam i loquimur secundum pr^ece
secundum consuetudinera/ Of course. Bacon t
words to be taken literally in their utmost exte
any exception or modification \ as if natural
instruct ion had nothing to do with conduct.
he could not mean anything so self-contradii
that all action is the result of custom ; for \\
in the first instance, it must be by actions t
formed.

But he uses a strong e3tpres8ion5 in order 1
our mind that, for practice^ custom is the most
and that it will often overbear both tbe original
the precepts which have been learnt : that whati
inwardly think, and (with perfect sincerity) si
fully depend on his conduct till you know h(
accustomed to act. For, contioued action is ]
stream of waterj which wears for itself a cka%
not easily be turned fj-om. The bed which t
gradually scooped at first, afterwards confines it

Bacon is far from meaning, I conceive, whe
' men speak as they have learned ^ — to limit hii
of insincere professions ; but to point out ho^
is to learn to repeat a lesson correctly, than
practice^ when custom is opposed to it,

u

4091 Of Custom and Education. [Essay xxiix.

This is the doctrine of one whom Bacon did not certainly
regard witli any undue veneration — ^ Aristotle ; who^ in Lis Ethics,
dwells earnestly on the importance of being early accustomed to
right practice^ with a view ta the formation of yirtnons habits.
And he derives the word ' ethics' from a Greek word signifying
custom ; even as the word ^ morahty' is derived from the cor-
jesponding Latin word ' mos/

It is to he ol^en^ed tbat^ at the present day, it is common to
use the words ^ custom^ and "habit* as synouymons, and often
to employ the latter where Bacon would have used the former.
But, strictly speaking, they denote respectively the came and
the effect* Repeated acts constitute the '^custom;' and the
' habit' is the condition of mind or body thence resulting* For
instance, a man who has been acaishmed to rise at a certaiu
hour, will have acquired the habU of waking and being ready to
rise as soon as that hour arrives. And one who has made it
his custom to drink drams will have fallen into the habit of
ci*aviug for that stimnlug, and of yielding to that craving ; and
BO of the rest*

Those are, then, in error who disparage (as Mrs. Hannah
More does) all practice that does not spring from a formed
hahit. For instance, they censure those who employ chOdren
as almoners, handing them money or other things to relieve the
poor with. For, say they, no one can give what is not his own :
there is no charity unless you part vrith something that yon
might have kept, and which it is a self-denial to pail with. The
answer is, that if the child does this readily and gladly, he has
already learfit the virtue of charity ; but if it is a pai/{fni self-
denial which you urge him to, as a duty, you arc creating an
association of charity with pain. On the contrary, if yoti
accustom him to the pleasure of seeing distress relieved, and of
being the instrument of giving pleasure, and doing good, the
desire of this gratification will lead him, afterwards, to part with
something of his own rather than forego it. Thus it is — to use
Horace's comparison — that the young hound is trained for tlie
chase in the woods, from the time that he barks at the deer-
skin in the hall.^

^ * , * , . i - * 'Veiiaticus, ex quo

T^Tnpore c^rrinam peUaxu Intravit in aula,
MHitat m «ilni tmiuluAj^-Moroce, Book L <-p, y, L 65.

Essay xxxix.] Annotations,

The precept is very good, to begin with swi
There is an error somewhat akin to the one
bating, which may be worth noticing here,
current in the present day against the iniqui
to the minds of young persons, by teaching thi
pretation of the Sacred Volume, instead of la
vestigate for themselves ; that is, against endt
them in the same situation with those to
Scriptures were written ; instead of leaving
with difficulties which the Scriptures nowher
provide against. The maintainers of such a p
well to consider, whether it would not, if com
prove too much. Do you not, it might be asb
of children by putting into their hands the Serif
as the infallible word of God ? If you are coi
are so, you must be sure that they will stand
prejudiced incjuiry. Are you not, at least, bou
teach them, at the same time, the systems of anc
the doctrines of the Koran, and those of mod(
that they may freely chuse amongst all? L
is disposed to deride the absurdity of such a pi
whether there is any objection to it, which wo
lie against the exclusion of systematic religion:
indeed systematic training in any science or a
It is urged, however, that since a man must
system true in which he has been trained, his ju
unduly biassed by that wish. It would follow frc
that no physician should be trusted who is not v
whether his patient recovers or dies, and who it
from any favourable hope from the mode of tre
since else his mind must be imfsdrly influenced

' The predominancy of custom is everywhere %

as a man would ivomhr to hear mm profess
give great worth, and then doju^t m they /
as if they were dead images and engines ^
the wheels of custom,'

This ' predominancy of custom' is rem ark ab
the case of Boldiers ivho have long been habil
if by a mechanical inapuke^ the word of comm

n i> ^

Essay xxxix.] Annotations.

mwn, who was expressing his strong disapprol
decisions and proceedings of the leading pera
he belonged to^ and assuring me that the g;
subordinates regarded them as wrong and unji
said I, ' they will nevertheless, I suppose, cc
they are required ?' * Oh, yes, they must do

Of course, there are many various degrees <
there are also different degrees of custom in
and it is not meant that all who are in any
with any party must be equally devoted adhere
am speaking of the tendency of party-spirit,
party- man so far forth as he is such. And pel
perience in human affairs lay it down accordii
that you should be very cautious how you full
man, however sound his own judgment, and h
principles on which he acts, when left to hime
and upright man, who keeps himself quite u
party, may be calculated on as likely to act on
you have found him to take on each point,
perhaps, you find him to differ from you ; in c
but when you have learnt what his sentiments a
each case what to expect. But it is not so in
connected with, and consequently controlled b^
proportion as he is so, he is not fiilly his own
some instances you will probably find him tak
surprise, by assenting to some course quite at vs
sentiments which you have heard him express-
perfect sincerity — as his own. When it com
formed habit of following the party will be likd^
everything. At least, * Pdjust na advise ye to

It is important to keep in mind that — as
what has been said just above — ^habits are fori
stroke, but gradually and insensibly j so that
care be cmplojedj a great change may come ov
without our being conscious of any. For, as 1
well expressed it, * The diminutive chains of h
hQnvj enough to be felt^ till they are too strong

And this is often strongly e^templified in
adverted to — that of party-spirit. It is not of
ail at once, resolves to join himself to a party }

4o5 Of Gustmi and Edumtion, [Essay xxxix*

in by little and little. Party is like one of thoae perilons
whirlpools soraetimes met with at sea. When a vessel reaeUes
the outer edge of one of them, the current moves so slowly,
and with so little of a curve, that the mariners may be uncoo-
seious of moving in any curve at all, or even of any motion
whatever. But each circuit of the spiral increases the velocity^
and gradually increases the curve^ and brings the vessel nearer
to the centre* And perhaps this rapid motion, aud the direction
of it, ai*e for the first time perceived^ when the force of the
ciiiTcnt has become irresistible.

Some, no doubt, there wercj of those who originally joined
the Association called * United Irishmen/ who, entertaining no
evil designs, were seduced by specious appearances and fair pro-
fessions, and did not enough consider that when once embarked
on the stream of Party, no one can be sure how far he may
nltimately be carried. They found themselves, doubtless most
imcxpectedly to many of them, engaged in au attempted revo-
lution, aud partners of men in actual rebellion.

No doubt many did draw back, though not without difiicidty,
and danger, and shame, when they perceived whither they were
being hurried ; though it is also, I think, highly probable thut
many were prevented by that difficulty and shame from stopping
short and turning back in time; and having 'stepped in so
far,' persevered in a course which, if it had been originally
proposed to them, they would have shrunk from with horror,
saying, ' la thy servant a dog that he should do this great
thing ?'

' It is true that a man map, if he will, withdraw jfrom, and
disown, a party which he had formerly belonged to* But thii
is a step which requires no small degree of moral courage.
And not only are we strongly tempted to shrink from taking
such a step, but also our dread of doing so is likely rather to
mislead our reason than to ovcrpoiver it* A man will ii)M to
think it justifiable to adhere to the party; and this wish is
likely to bias his judgment, rather than to prevail on him to
act contrary to his judgment. For, we know how much the
judgment of men is likely to be bm^sed, as well as how mut^
they are tempted to acquiesce in something {i^mn»l their judg-
ment, when earnei^tly pressed by the majority of those who
arc acting with thcra, — whom they look up to, — whose appro-

k\\1

Essay xxxix.] Annotations.

bation encourages them^ — and whose censure
dread.

' Some doctrine^ suppose^ is promulgated^
posed^ or mode of procedure commenced^ whid
of a party do not^ in their unbiassed judgment
any one of them is disposed, first to unsh, th
lastly to believe, that those are in the right wh
sorry to think wrong. And again, in any case
ment may still be unchanged, he may feel that
concession he is called on to make, and that
benefits to set against it; and that, after ali^
called on merely to acquiesce silently in what h(
approve ; and, he is loth to incur censure, as 1
good cause, — as presumptuous, — as unfiriendly
who are acting with him. To be ' a breaker t
{iraipiag SioXunjc) was a reproach, the dread of '
from the great historian of Greece, carried much
in the transactions of the party-warfare he is dei
we may expect the like in all similar cases.

' One may sometimes hear a person say in so
though &i oftener, in his conduct — ^ It is true
gether approve of such and such a step ; but it is
essential by those who are acting with us ; and
hold out against it, we should lose their co-op(
woiild be a most serious evil. There is nothini
therefore, but to comply.' '

'Certainly custom is most perfect when it begin
years : this we call education, which is, in effec
custom.*

Education may be compared to the grafting of
gardener knows that the younger the wilding-stoc
be grafted, the easier and the more effectual is
because, then, one scion put on just above the roo
the main stem of the tree, and all the branches
will be of the right sort. When, on the other 1
to be grafted at a considerable age (vtliich may hi
fully done), you have to put on twenty or thirty
several brauchca ; and afterwards vou will have t

Essay xxxix.] Annotations.

same instincts; for all dogs have an instil
pursue game. But the one kind of dog hai
couraged to run after a hare, and the other
chastised if it attempts to do so, and has beei
still/ ^

But it must not be forgotten that educati
grafting of a tree in this point also, that the
affinity between the stock and the graft, though
practical difference may exist ; for example, bei
crab, and a fine apple. Even so, the new nat
called, superinduced by education, must always
tion to the original one, though differing in
points. You cannot, by any kind of artificia
any thing ot any one, and obliterate all traci
character. Those who hold that this is possl!
to effect it, resemble Virgil, who (whether in
sOQiD think, by way of ' poetical licence ') talks
oak on an elm : ^ glandesque sues fregcre sub u
•^ Oue of Doctor Johnson^ s paradoxes, more
time than now, bat far from being now expio
given amount of ability may be turned in any
as a maa may walk this way or that.^ And bo I
walking is the action for which the legs are fitt<
he may use his eyes for looking at this object ot
hear with his eyes, or see with his ears. And tl
are not more different tlian, for instance, the j
and the mathematical. * Oh, but if Milton had 1
to mathematics, and if Newton had turned his
the former might have been the great mathcra
latter the great poet/ This is open to the p
' If my aunt had been a man, she would have 1
For, the supposition implied in these ifs is, tl
Newton should have been quite different charac
they were.

A

' Lieas^t%$ an MoraU.

41 Z

Of Custom and Education. [Essmy xjtiix*

Tlie Canaanitee of oldj we should retoembcr, dwelt in ^a
good land, flowing with milk and honeyj' though they wor-
shipped not the true God, but served abominable demons with
eacrifices of the produce of their soil, and even with the blood
of their children. But the Israelites were invited to go in, and
take possession of ' well-stored houses that they bmlded not,
and wells which they digged not -/ and they ' took the labours
of the people in possession ;* only, they were warned to beware
lest, in their prosperity and wealth, they should 'forget the
Lord their God/ and to offer to Him the first finiits of their
land.

Neglect notj then, any of the advantages of intellectual
cultivation which God's providence has placed within your
reach ; nor * think scorn of that pleasant land,' and prefer
wandering by choice in the barren wilderness of ignorance ;
but let the intellect which God has endowed you with be cul-
tivated as a servant to Himj and then it will be^ not a master,
but a useful servant^ to you.

ESSAY XL. OF FORTUNl

IT cannot be denied bat outward accidents coi
fortune ; favour, opportunity, death of others, <
virtue : but chiefly the mould of a man's fortune
hands. ' Faber quisque fortunse suae,' saith the
most frequent of external causes is, that the folly
the fortune of another i for no man prospers so s
others^ errors j ' serpens nisi serpentem comederit
Overt and apparent^ virtues bring forth praise ;
secret and hidden virtues tliat bring forth fo
deliverii^ of a man^s self, which have no name*
name, ^ disemboltura/ * partly expresseth them, i
not stoiids* and reatlveness in a man^s nature,
Trheela of his miud keep way " with the wheels €
for so Livy (after he had described Cato Major ii
' in illo viro, tan turn robur corporis et animi fuit,
loco natus esact, fortunam sibi facturus vide ret ur*'
that he had, ^ versatile ingenium/^ Therefore, if
sharply and attentively, he shall see fortune ; for
blind, yet she is not invisible. The way of forti
mil ken "way in the sky; which ia a meeting, i

* ' Every man the »rtiflc«r of hii own farUateJ^Appittt Citt
hnied hj Bacon el^wlxcFrc (Advantentjent of Learning^ to Plantiis

^ * Uulcss the HTi^Lit dt^vours the serpent^ it does not become

* AppHT^nL Evident i ktiowu ; ^mhh.

* As well the fear of barm, aj harm apparent.
In my mind ougbt to be prevented,' — Shakerpt ;
' The ontvrard and apparent sanctity KUould lioiv from parity of he i

* Desenvoltnra. {fraceful eoji^^

^ Stondfl, St^pt. Tho removal of the ttondt and impedime ;
that often dears tbe pa^^^ge and cnrreot to a man's forttme/— :
^'*r Henr^ Tt^mple^

^ VV'ay. Tim€.. Tlio time in wbich a ceHiun space con be pi
over.

'A mlla-MTfl^/ — Chaucer.

' ' In that man there was so much strength of bodjr and of tnii
that in whatever place be bod bceni be would huve made fortuue h

* • A versatile mind/

■ Milken* Milk^. ' The remedies ore to be propoi^ed from u
of tbe miiken diet.* — TempU.

414 Of Fortune. [Essay xL

number of small stars not seen asundePj but giving light
together : so are there a number of little and scarce discerned
virtues, or rather faculties and customs, that make men fortunate:
the Italians note some of them, such as a man would little
think* ^Ticn they speak of one that cannot do amiss, they
will throw in into his other conditions^ that he hath ' Poco di
matto ;' ^ and, certainly, there be not two more fortunate pro-
perti^ than to liave a little of the fool, and not too much of
the honest : therefore extreme lovers of their country, or masters,
were never fortunate ^ neither can they be j for when a man
placeth his thoughts without himself, he goeth not his own way.
A hasty fortune maketh an enterpriser^ and remover' (the
French hath it better, ' entrepreuant,' or ' rcmuant'), but the
exercised * fortune maketh the able man. Fortune is to be
honoured and respected , and ^ it be but for her daughters. Con-
science and E,epntatioa; for those two felicity brecdeth; the
first within a man^s selfj the latter in others towards him. All
wise men, to decline ' the envy of their own virtues^ use to
ascribe them to Providence and Fortune ; for so they may the
better assume them * and besides, it is grcatnt^s in a man to be
the care of the higher powers. So Caesar said to the pilot in
the tempest, 'Ctcsajem portas, ct fortunam ejus,'' So Sylla
chose the name of ' fclix,' and not of ' magnus ■/ ' and it hath
been noted, that those who ascribe openly too much to their
own wisdom and polity, end unfortunate. It is written, that
TimotheuB, the Athenian ^ after he had, in the account he gave
to the State of his government, often interlaced this speech,
^ And in this fortune had no part/ never prospeied in anything

> 'A little of the fool/

* ^DterpriaeTi An adventurer; a hold prof f dor ^

' Wit tn&kea im enterpriMr^ 9&nm a nma* — Youti^^
' Eemover. A^iteiior,

* Exercised. Made famiUar h^ use. ' A heart exercit«d witli oDvetoui pmc^
tioL^/ — 2 Pet. ii. 14.

* And, If.

' Nftji and I sufler ihm, I may gio erase/ — Beaitmoni and Fl^icher.
' Dedlne. To atfoi^d.

* Since the Musoh do invoke my [h^woT]
1 ahall no more decHn^ tti« imcivd bower
'ftTiere Glomiia, the great mistress, lies/ — Sir P* Sidmef^
J *Tdu carry Co^sar njid bis fortunea.* — l*lat* Vii^ d^ar. 38*

* * Fortunate/ (and not oQ '^ great.* — Pint. SiftL 34,

Essay xL]

Annoiatiom.

be undertook afterward. Certainly there be '
like Homer's vei*sesj that have a slide ^ and
than the verses of other poet^ ■ as Plutarch sa
fortnncj in respect of that of Agesilaus, or E
that this should be^ no doubt it is much in a

ANTITHETA ON FORTUNE,

Pbo.

■ Vtrtotca apGrtas lnudes pariunt ; oc-
culta? forttinAa.

* llrtuet t^al nre openlif ieen ohiain
praufe ; hvt what it called tvck is the
r^mU of UApercei^jed piV/tw!*/

' Fortana reliiti gukjcm ; hoe estj
nodufi quartmdaD] obecurttrQin virtutuui,
sine nomine.

' IhHunfi u Hke a galaxy i thai w io
4atf, a colleefiim of ceriaiii unaeen and

Ooa

* Shjltitia unia
qf another.^

ANNOTATIONS.

' Sa are there a number of little and scarce dm
or customs^ that make men fortunat

It ia common to hear the lower orders speak c
their mode of expressing what Bacon here calls
and customs/ or^ as attributing to fortune wha
indescribable and imperceptible skilL You n
speak of a woman who has good luck in her bu
in bread -making ; of a gardener who ia lucky or
in graftings or in raising melonsi &c.

' When thet^ (the Italians) speak of ofie that a
they will throw into his other conditions, iha
di matto* [a little ofthefooijJ

This is in accordance with the proverb, * F
foob / and it would have been well if Bacon

' SUiL^ Ftueney, * Often he ba<l uficd to be nu nctor in
hajd loanutHl, besidoi & tlidinffii€*4 of lon^iuLge, ac^pnintance v^
J^idne^, ' FtLTimoi

410 uj roriune, i^^^^J **■

tiling more of it. \ Fortune h said to fa\'onr fools, because thej
trust all to fortune. Wberi a fool escapes any danger, or
fiucceeda iu any undertakiTig, it is said that fortune favours him;
"ffbile a wise man is considered to pi'osper by his own prudence
and foresight* For instance, if a fool who does not bar his
door, escapes being robbed j it is ascribed to bis luck ; but the
prudent man, having taken precautions, is not called fortunate.
But a wise man h, in fact, more likely to meet with good
fortune than a foolish one, because he puts himself in the way
of it. If lie is sending off a ship be has a better chance of
obtaining a favourable wind, because he ebuses the place and
season in which such winds prevail as will be favoural^le to him.
If the fool's ship arrives safely, it is by good luck ahm ; while
both must be iu sorac degree indebted to fortune for success J

One way iu which fools succeed where wise men fail is, that,
through ignorance of the danger ^ tbey sometimes go cooUy
about some hazardous business. Hence the pro\'erb that ' The
fairies take care of children, drunken men, and idiots/

A surgeon was once called iu to bleed an apoplectic patient.
He called the physician aside, and explained to him that in this
particular subject the artery lay so unusually (wtnr the vein, that
there was imminent risk of pricking it* ^ Wcllj but he mmt
be bled at all hazards ; for he is ^ure to die without/ ^ I am
BO nervous,^ said the surgeon, ' that my hand would be unsteady.
But I know of a barber hard by who is accustomed to bleed ;
and as he is ignorant of anatomy, be will go to work coolly/
The bai^ber was summoned, and performed the operation readily
and safely. When it was over, the surgeon showed him some
anatomical plates, and explained to him that be had missed
the artery only by a hair's breadth. He never ventured ta
bleed again.

One sometimes meets with an ' ill-used man ;' a man with
whom everything goes wrong i who is always thiukiug how
happy he should be to exchange his present wretched situation
for such and such another; and when he has obtained it, find*
ing that he is far worse off than before, and seeking a remove f
and as soon as he has obtained thatj discovering that Ids last

1 See Pron^hs and Frec^ptt for Ccapy-picccs.

Essay xl.]

Annotations,

situation was just the thing for him, and was
to him a prospect of unbroken happiness, far 1
state, &c. To him a verse of Shakespere wc

* O thoughts of men aoount !
Past, and to come, seem best, things present)
«
One is reminded of a man travelling in the A

rounded by mirage, with a (seeming) lake I

lake before him, which, when he has reache

still the same barren and scorching sand.

remarked, ^ This man^s happiness has no presc

E s

Essay xH.] Of Usury.

out ; and warily to provide, that, while we rai
which is better, we meet not with that which

The discommodities * of usury are, first, tl
merchants : for were it not for this lazy trad<
would not lie still, but it would in great part
merchandising,' which is the vena port(f of wefl
second, that it makes poor merchants ; for a
husband his ground so well if he sit at a )
merchant cannot drive his trade so well if he t
the third is incident to the other two, and tha
customs of kings, or estates,^ which ebb or flc
dising : the fourth, that it bringeth the treasi
State into a few hands ; for the usurer being a
the other at uncertainties, at the end of the g
money will be in the box, and ever a State
wealth is more equally spread : the fifth, that r
price of land ; for the employment of money
merchandising, or purchasing ; and usury waj
sixth, that it doth dull and damp all industries
and new inventions, wherein money would be sti
not for this slug : the last, that it is the canl
many men^s estates, which iu process of time
poverty.

On the other side, the commodities of usuri
howsoever^ usury in some respects hindereth me
in some other it advanceth it ; for it is certain t
part of trade is driven by young merchants up(
interest ; so as ' if the usurer either call in o
money, there will ensue presently a great stac
second is, that, were it not for this easy borrowir
men's necessities would draw upon them a most s
in that" they would be forced to sell their mc

' IHsoommodities. Inoonveniences. See page 357.

' Merchandinng. Trading, ' The Phenidans, of whose ex
inff we read so much in ancient histories, were Canaanite^y ^
nifies merchants/ — JSreretoood.

* The great vein. * Estftt^s- St

* HowBtmvcr. AUhrjvgh. Sis? psigie j, * As. That
^ Utidomg. See psig<? 300.

"In that. Inatmuch om^ - Things are preaebed not in tt
Idtt in thai tliej are pQUtahed.*— //iTuJt^r.

E £ 2

Essay xli.] Of Usury,

out to take any penalty for the same. This
rowing from any general stop or dryness — th
borrowers in the country — this will, in good j
of land, because land purchased at sixteen yi
yield six in the hundred, and somewhat more,
of interest yields but five — ^this, by like rea8<
and edge industrious and profitable improveme
will rather venture in that kind, than take fiv
especially having been used to greater profit
there be certain persons licenced to lend to 1
upon usury, at a high rate, and let it be with
lowing. Let the rate be, even with the ni
somewhat more easy than that he used former!
that means all borrowers shall have some ease
tion, be he merchant or whosoever' — ^let it be i
mon stock, but every man be master of his <
that I altogether mislike^ banks, but they will hs
in regard' of certain suspicions. Let the Sta
some small matter for the licence, and the i
lender; for if the abatement be but snlall, i
discourage the lender ; for he, for example, that
or nine in the hundred, will sooner descend
hundred, than give over this trade of usury, and
gains to gains of hazard. Let these licencec
number indefinite, but restrained to certain prii
towns of merchandise ; for then they will be
colour* other men's monies in the country, so a

' WhoBoever. Whoever, « TFiMo^wr ghonld give the bloi
be his. We are guilty of all the evil we might have hindered
3 Mialike. Dislihe,

•And Israel, whom I lov'd so dear,
Muliked me for his choice.' — Milton.
* In r^^rd. On aecoutU. See page 310.
^ Answer. To pay,

* Who studies day and night
To annoer all the debts he owes to yon.' — ShoA
» Whit. In the leaet ; in the smalleet decree. ' I was nc
very chiefest apostles.' — a Cor, xi. 5.

* We love, and are no whit regarded.' — Sidney,
« Colour. To pas* for their own, * To colour a strange
freeman allows a foreigner to enter goods at the Cu8tom-h<
FhiUipe,

Essay xli.] Annotations.

that no man is called hard-hearted for not
his lumse rent-free^ or for requiring to be j
his horse^ or his ship^ or any other kind of p

As for the lending of money making ^ few*
' causing money to lie still/ it is evident thj
reverse of the fact ; as indeed is hinted in \
part of the trade and manufactures in every {
is carried on with borrowed capital, lent by tl
the skill and leisure to carry on such business
who, if they were prevented from thus invesi
would be driven either to let their ' money lie
box, or else to engage in a business for whi
fitted.

If I build a mill or a ship, and let it to a
merchant, every one would allow that this is s
investing capital ; quite as fair, and much wis
ignorant of manufactures and trade, I were to 8
facturer or merchant. Now if, instead of this, I
money to buy or build a ship for himself, or at
the manufacturer to erect his buildings and m:
probably suit himself better than if I had takei
without his experience.

No doubt, advantage is often taken of a ms
cessity, to demand high interest, and exact pays
But it is equally true that advantage is taken, i
town, of a man's extreme need of a night's 1<
is but too well known, that where there is an i
tition for iand^ as almost the sole mode of o
Bistence, it is likely that an exorbitant rent wi
that this will be exacted with unbending sev*
ivould thereupon propose that tlie letting of
prohibited, or that a maximum of rent should 1
For, legislative iuterposition in dealings bet wee
except for the prevention of fraudj generally i
it seeks to remedy ^ A prohibition of interei
only a minor degree of the same error — a pr
beyond a certain fixed rate of interest, has an
that of a like interference between the buyers a
other commodity. If^ for example, in a time o
enacted, on the grouud that cheap food is desi

Essay xlii.]

Amiatuiions.

manebat, neque idem decebat :'^ the tbird is oi
high a strain at the first, and arc magaanimoui
of years can uphold ; as was Seipio Africani
saith in effect, ' Ultima primis cedebant.^^

AXTITHETA ON YOUTH AND AOl

}

* * # « •

' S^nm Mibi saplunt magiu, allb et
rGiputiUcQ? niitius.

' Did me it have more tciidom for
tkftiuflpe^f ami te^sfur otherr^ and Jqt
tks public,'

'St ooTLspici darotiur, tnngis deformat

* If the mhid £*<jmW he a a ohjett &f
fi^hit i^ would be xeen that old agt
d^jbrths ti mare thatk the bodtf/

* B^nen ornvtH metntini, pmater Dcos,
' Old men fear e^er^ihitt^ but the

O

' Jnventufl poynl

* Youth u the ^
rvpeutaneet*

* lagenitns ^ J
torit:itU contempt
perii^nlD ^p^at,

* A contempt fh
age if implant ^l h
erptf^ry one may b4
wisdom al hU oM^ji

'Tempus, m\ qua
catnr, hoc rata )mU

' niien Time U
counsellor^ neither
de^Mton/

ANNOTATIONS.

Many readers of Aristotle^a admirable deaci
Rheiortc) of the Young and the Old, {ie which he |
a preference to tbe character of the young,) for
describing the same man at different periods of
old must have been young. Aa it is, he gives
view of tbe character of the ^ natural man/ (as tl
expresses it,) which is, to become — on the wb(

^ * He i^uioinfid tbe mvoB ; bat the Kime was do lovigfir bi
Cie, Bnd, 95,
* Tract. C&urm.

'Mj ffloaics nil are fled.
And tract of time begins to weave
Grey biiire« upon vay head/ — Loni Vaux,
^ThiH b »u|ipciEii<cd to be tbia onginul of Sbnkesipe:
gTUve-digger'ji song- in Hamlet,)
' 'The kit fcU lOiort of tbe UntJ—Lit^^t uxviii. 53.

Essay xlii.] Annotations.

' Men are apt not to consider with sufficic
it is that constitutes Experience in each point
one man shall have credit for much Experien
to the matter in hand, and another^ who^ pe
much, or more, shall be underrated as wantii
of all ranks, need to be warned, first, that t\
constitute Experience ; so that many years ma
a man^s bead, without his even having had the t
of acquiring it, as another, much younger :
longest practice in conducting any business in
necessarily confer any experience in conductin
way: e,g, an experienced Husbandman, or ]
in Persia, would be much at a loss in Europe
some things less to learn than an entire nov
hand they would have much to unlearn; f
merely being conversant about a certain class
not confer Experience in a case, where the Op
End proposed, are different. It is said thi
Amsterdam merchant, who had dealt largely in
who had never seen a field of wheat growing
doubtless acquired, by Experience, an accurate
qualities of each description of com, — of the
storing it, — of the arts of buying and seUii
times, &c. ; but he would have been greatly at
tivation ; though he had been, in a certain way
about com. Nearly similar is the Experienc
lawyer, (supposing him to be nothing more,) in
lation. Because he has been long conversant
unreflecting attribute great weight to his legisl
whereas his constant habits of fixing his thou^
law is, and withdrawing it from the irrelevant
the law ought to be ; — his careful observance c
rules, (which afford the more scope for the dig
in proportion as they are arbitrary and unacct
studied indifference as to that which is foreign f
the convenience or inconvenience of those Rules—
to operate unfavourably on his judgment in qu
lation : and are likely to counterbalance the a
superior knowledge, even in such points as
question.

Essay xlii.]

Annotatinm.

\

4

comparing the results of a confined ^ with tha
rience; — a more imperfect and cnidc tlieor
cautiously framed^ and based on a more oopioi

' The experience of age in new things ai

The old are more liable to the ' rashness of 1

younger, to that of the moth ; the distinctio]
I have before pointed out. The old agaiu are
the youngj to claim, and to give, an undue
judgment^ in reference to some tt<?w plan or
who are the most thoroughly familiar with tl
this point I have already dwelt iu my remarks

' Natures that have much heat are not ripe for
have passed the meridian of their p

There is a strange difference in the ages at
persons acquire such maturity as they are ca|
which some of those who have greatly diatingui
have done, and been, something remarkable,
have left the world at an earlier age than that ,
have begun their career of eminence. It was n
late Dr. Arnold by a friend, as a matter ol
several men who have filled a considerable p
have lived but forty-seven years ; (Philip of Iti
AddisoHj Sir William Jones, Nelson, Pitt,) ai
in a jocular way to beware of the forty-seve
was at that time in robust health ; but he died
Alexander died at thirty -two ; Sir Stamford K
five. Sir Isaac Newton did indeed live to a gi
is said that all his discoveries were made before
BO that he might have died at that age, and bee
as he is.

On the other hand, Herschel is said to
astronomy at forty -seven. Swcdeulxirg, if he hi
would have been remembered by those that did
merely as a sensible worthy man, and a ve
mathematician. The strange fancies which toe

' See Ettmeniw of MhetaHc, Part U,, ch. ii!., § 5i pp.

Bssny xlii.] Annolaiions. '

This kind of decline is furthered, and som
great measure caused, by a man's associating
chiefly with persons of inferior mind, and §
their prejudices, and discontinuing Buch studie
exercise as they have no sympathy with,
what has been called a Palimpsest, A literal
a^ ia generally known — a parchment from w
man user ipt — perhaps some precious work of ai
has hccn scraped off, to make room for some
or mediseval treatise. But by holding it in
person of good eyes, may^ by great patienc
Signor A_ngelo Maio has) the faint traces of tl
A man who in early life has resided in a
Metropolis, among men of superior mind, anc
seientific tastes, will sometimes retire for the i
some locality where he is surrounded by persoi
un intellectual and narrow-minded ; and will th
80 eom^jletely let himself down to their level,
former associates would hardly recognise him :
course of conversation he may by degrees rccal
of the former man* He may, as it were, gaze
Palimpsest till he pcrceivi^ the traces of the i
which had been nearly obliterated, and replaced
The decay which is most usually noticed in <
by others and by themselves, is a decay of meti
is perhaps partly from its being a defect easih
and distinctly proved. When a decay of jtidgi
— which is perhaps oftener the case than is com
— the party himself is not likely to be consciou
friends are more likely to overlook it, and ev€
perceive it, to be backward in giving him wan
being met with such a rebuff as Gil Bias receiv
his candour from the Archbishop^ his patron.

It is remarkable, that there is nothing less
in early youths a certain full-formed^ settled, ar
called, adult character. A lad who has, to a de
wonder and admiration, the character and de
intelligent man of mature age, will probab
nothing more, all his life, and will cease accord
tliiug remarkable, because it was the precocity

f w

ESSAY XLIII. OF BEAl

VIRTUE is like a rich stone, best plaii
virtue is best in a body that is comei
delicate features, and that hath rather dignitj
beauty of aspect; neither is it almost^ seen t
persons are otherwise of great virtue, as if m
busy not to err, than in labour to product
therefore they prove accomplished, but not of
study rather behaviour than virtue. But this
for Augustus Caesar, Titus yeiq)asianus, Philip
Edward IV. of England, Alcibiades of Atl
sophy' of Persia, were all high and great spi
most beautiful men of their times. In beauty
is more than that of colour, and that of decei
motion more than that of favour. That is
beauty which a picture cannot express, no, nc
of the life. There is no excellent beauty that
strangeness in the proportion. A man cani
Apelles or Albert Durer were the more' trifler;

* Almost. For the most part ; generally. * Who is then
at some time or other, love or anger, fear or grief, has not fs
that it oould not turn itself to any other ohject.'

* Excellency. Excellence. * That the excellency of the i
and not of us.* — 2 Cor. iv. 7.

» Sophy. Sultan.

' With letters, Imn in cantious wise.
They straightway sent to Penda ;
Bat wrote to the Sophy him to kill.'

— St. Qeorge a
^ Favour. Conntenance,

' I know youry<itH)»r well, Percy,

Though now yon have no sea-cap on your head.' — 1

' Dec^^t. Becoming I fit. *A!l pastimes, generftlly, w

laboTir and in ojjen place^ and on the daj-Tighte, be not iml

but verie neoessane ft>r a courtly gentktnan.* — -Roger Atchan

* Tliose thousand d^t^ftt^ex that daily flow

From all her wonb and octioua,'- — Mitton

* GradonH. Gractfnl.

'There was ae'er ancb fk gracum^ creatdre bom/— -j
Mfifc GTeatcf ; great. * The marCTWj* of Chriat*fl vit
by worldly muroneaa.*— Wkkiiff'^

S H 2

ESSAY XLIV- OF DEFOI

DEFORMED persons are commonly evex
as nature hath done ill by them^ so <
being for the most part (as the Scripture sail
affection :'* and so they have their revenge •
tainly there is a consent' between the body a
' where nature erreth in the one she ventru
(' Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero'): 1
is in man an election touching the frame oi
necessity in the frame of his body^ the stars c
tion are sometimes obscured by the sun of disc
therefore, it is good to consider of deformit
which is more deceivable, but as a cause whi<
of the effect. Whosoever hath anything fixe
that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpet
self to rescue and deliver himself from scon
deformed persons are extreme* bold — first, i
defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in proc
general habit. Also, it stirreth in them industr
of this kind, to watch and observe the weaknet
they may have somewhat to repay. Again, in
it quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons
they may at pleasure despise ; and it layeth t
and emulators asleep, as never believing the
possibility of advancement, till they see them i
that upon the matter,' in a great wit, deformity
to rising. Kings, in ancient times (and at

^ Bom. i, 31.

^ 'Then Bincfi the 'Htaveas bate shaped my h
Let Hell make crook't my mmd to answc^r
Shakes[)an;'js
' CotiHmt. Agre^m^mL

' With otic cDJWfJii, let ftU the earth
To G<k1 their dat'erful voicea raise/ — -Tate's Verni

* llxtrcme. Mxtrtmely.

* Matter. Wholf, (* Upon the matter'— 0)» Mfft'^^/f.)
to have come lo very iifeai- the maiteTf tlwt but very Ifew eseo

ESSAY XLV. OF BUILI

HOUSES are built to live in, and not to Ic
let use be preferred before* uniformil
both may be had. Leave the goodly fabri
beauty, only to the enchanted palaces of the
them with small cost. He that builds a fair .
seat,' committeth himself to prison — ^neither <
ill seat only where the air is unwholesome, bi:
the air is unequal ; as you shall see many fine
knap' of ground, environed with higher hills
whereby the heat of the sun is pent in, and th
as in troughs ; so as^ you shall have, and that s
diversity of heat and cold as if you dwelt i
Neither is it ill* air only that maketh an ill se
ill markets ; and if you consult with Momus, il
speak not of many more ; want of water, want
and shelter, want of fruitfulness, and mixture
several natures ; want of prospect, want of levc
of places at some near distance for sports of hi
and races ; too near the sea, too remote ; having
of navigable rivers, or the discommodity of th
too far off from great cities, which may hinder

' Preferred before. Preferred to.

' O Spirit that dost prefer
Before all temples, the upright heart and pur
InBtmct me.'— Ift^/om

> Seat. 8Ue. 'It remaineth now that we find oiat t

* Knap. A prominent^ j a hnolL

* Hark, on knap of yonder hUlt
Some Bweet Bhepherd tunes Ma quUl.'^^
See page 23*

' Tliere some ill pknct roignfl/^^^Aaiwpprf
AduttiUa^e ; eonvenknee* See page 4 T 8-

442 Of BmhlinQ. [Essay xk.

chambers of presence and ordinary cutertainmenta with some
bed-chambcra ; and let all three sides be a double house, without
thorough lights on the etdes, that you may have rooms from the
sun, both for forenoon and afternoon- Cast^ it also that you
may have rooms both for summer and winter, shady for summer
and warm for winter. You shall have sometimes fair houses so
full of glass^ that one cannot tell where to become'^ to be out of
the sun or cold. For embowed^ windows, I hold them of good
use ; in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect of the uni-
formity towards the street \ for they be pretty retiring places for
conference, and, besides^ they keep both the wind and sun off —
for that which would strike almost through the room, doth
scarce pass the window ; but let them be but few, four in the
court, on the sides only.

Beyond this coiui; let there be an inward^ court, of the same
square and height, which is to be environed with the garden on
all sides ; and in the inside, cloistered on all sides upon decent
and beautiful arches, as high as the first storey ; on the under
storey, towards the garden j let it be turned to a grotto, or place
of shadei or estivation } and only have opening and windows
to^\'ards the garden, and be level upon the floor, no whit* sunk
under ground, to avoid all dampishness ; and let there be a
fountain, or some fair work of statues in the midst of the
court, and to be paved as the other court was. These buildings
to be for privy lodgings on Ijoth sides, and the end for privy
galleries ; whereof you must foresee that one of them he for an
infirmary, if the prince or any special person should be sick,
with chambers, bed-chamber, ' antecamcra' [^ anti-chamber^].

' Cast, TQplan,

' From that day fartb, I ca^t in carefvd mind
To keep bar oaU' — Spsiuer,
^ Become, To betake Qneself,

' I cannot joy tintil I be waolvied
Wlionj out- right valiant Mher
Is hetiOMC* — ShakespfTfi.

' Embowed. Bo^^d.

' I Baw & hnll an white as drWen anaw.
With i^ldon horns, emAoiceci like the moon.^— jfi^pffiwr.

* Inword. Inntr, * Thoogh onr outward maji p«rUh, yet the
TGnewed day by dfiy/ — 2 Cor, iv.

* WMt. The le<tit de^r^. Se« pag« 421.

,

Easay xlv.} OJ Baildiuff,

and ' recaracra/ [' retiring-chamber/ or ' h
iug to it ; this upon the second storey. II pot
a fair galleiy^ opcHj upon pillars j and upc
like wise J an open gallery upon pillar Sj to tal
freshness of the garden. At both corners *
by way of rctunij let there he two delicate
daintily^ paved, richly hanged,* glazed witl
and a rich cupola in the midst, and all other
be thought upon. In the upper gallery, too_
may be, if the place will yield it, some foi
divers' places from the wall, -with some fine
thus touch for the model of the palace ; sa
have, before you come to the front, three cob
plain, with a waU about it ; a second court
more garnished with little turrets, or rathe
upon the wall ; and a third court, to make a
front, hut not to be built, nor yet enclosed w
hut enclosed with terraces leaded aloft, and f;
the three sidea, and cloistered on the inside
not with arches below. As for oflSces, let
distance, with some low galleries to pass £
palace itself.

^ Daintilj. BUgwutly, See page i,

^ Hanged. ^Kojf (with drapariGa). ' Mudc ut better in r

^ Divi*ra. Ma^. See i>Qg^ 312*

* Avoidances. Waier-coursea. * The two mVQidancm or
SiaiuU, 8W jfemr of King Henry VIL

Ussay xlvi.] Of Gardens,

parts ; a green in the entrance^ a heath or i
forth^ and the main garden in the midst, bes
sides j and I like well that foor acres of g
to the green, six to the heathy four and foi
and twelve to the main garden. The green h
the one, because nothing is more pleasant to
grass kept finely shorn ; the other^ because
fair alley in the midst, by which you may j
stately hedge, which is to enclose the garden
alley will be long, and, in great heat of the
ought not to buy the shade in the garden by
through the green^ therefore you are, of eithc
to plant a covert alley, upon carpenters^ w<
feet in height, by which you may go in shade
As for the making of knots, or figures, with
earths, that they may lie under the windows
that side on which the garden stands, they bi
may see as good sights many times in tarts,
best to be square, encompassed on all the f(
stately arched hedge; the arches to be upot
penters' work, of some ten feet high, and six
the spaces between of the same dimenRions wit
the arch. Over the arches let there be an
some four feet high, framed also upon carpci:
upon the upper hedge, over every arch, a litt
belly ^ enough to receive a cage of birds : and
between the arches some other little figure, \i
of round coloured glass gilt, for the sun to pla
hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not t
slope,^ of some six feet, set all with flowers,
stand that this square of the garden shall n(

' Either. S€teh. Sec page 337.
' Divera-ooloBred. Of ^<xrUm» eohwrt,
* Smiling Capids,
With dirert-iiiilQwed t^^\A'^8hak^9p[
' Bctly, Seepage 319*
^ Slope. Slopiitff,

* MarmtsHng waters fa
Thwn the vlope Mils, dispersed, or \n a hdn
That to the iring^jd bunks, with myrtle cro
Tier cryiital tnirtor holds^ unite their sta'aii

450 Q/" Gardens, [Essay xlvL

For the aide groundsj you are to fill them with yariety of
alleySj private to give a full shade ; some of them wheresoever
the sua be* You are to frame some of them likewise for shel-
ter, tbatj when the wind blows sharp, you may walk as in a
gallery ; and those alleys must be likewise hedged at both ends,
to keep out tbe wiud^ and these eloscr alleys must be ever finely
gravelled, and no grass, because of goiug^ wet. In many of
tiiese alleysj likevvisej you are to set fruit- trees of all sorts, as
well upon the walk as in ranges j and this sbould be geucrally
obsen^ed^ that the borders wherein you plant your fruit-trees be
fair, and large, and low, and not steep, and set w*ith fine flowcrst,
but thin and sparingly^ lest they deceive' tbe trees^. At the
end of both the side grounds I would have a mount of some
pretty height, leaving the wall of the enclosure breast- high j to
look abroad into the fields.

For tbe main garden, I do not deny but there shonld be some
fair alley's ranged on both sides witli fruit trees, and some pretty
tufts of fruit-trees and arbours with seats, set in some decent
orders hut these to be by no means set too thick, but to
leave the main garden so aa it be not close, hut tbe air open
and free. For as for shade, I would have yon rest upon the
alleys of the side grounds, there to walk, if you feel disposed, in
tbe heat of the year or day ; but to make account, that the
main garden is for the more temperate parts of the year, and,
in the heat of summer, for the morning and the evenings or
overcast days.

For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that large-
ijesa as they may be turfed^ and have living plants and bushes
set in them, that the birds may have more scope and natural
jiestlingj and that no foulness appear on the tioor of the aviary.
So I have made a platform of a princely garden, partly by pre-
cept, partly by drawings — not a model, but some general lines

1 Go. Ti} I pad lo.

' There be sfnuo wotneu ♦

, . * , would ]iav& yoRHf neat ta full in love witli Llm/ — ShaJiespfitv.

* Doc*?iveH, To deprivf h^ Jitidtth / io Tob^ * And so d&c^ire the BplHt^ of tliG
body, and rob them of lUeir notiri^hnnent.' — Bacon. ' Ratlier tlmn 1 would coibecile
or deceive him of a mite, I \V'OiiM it were moults and put into my mouth/^Cavfcn-
disbj. Ittfti fff Cardinal Tfi^lse^,

t

Essay xM.] Annotation*

of it— and in this I have spared* for no cost
for great princes, thatj for the most part^
irorkmen^ with no less cost set their things t(
times add statnesj and such things, for state
but uathing to the true pleasure of a garden.

I
I

ANNOTATION. '

' / for my part do not like images cut om

This childish taste, as Baeon rightly calls
great degree long after his time. But whi
' Landscape-gardeiimg ' isj of all the fine ai
may fairly be accounted one), the latest ia it
arisen not very early in the last century.

The earliest writer, I believe, on the subje
Thomas Whatcly. From his work (which went
editions) subsequent writers have borrowed lai
rally with little or no acknowledgment. The
LillCj however, in his poem of Lea JardinM^ d(
him as his master^

!Mr< W. was distinguished as a man of tasti
one department. Being by many looked up tc
in such matters, it was he that first broug
Thomson's Seasons^ and thus laid the fonndati
popularity. And the portion that was comple
on the Chaructera of Shakespere (left nufinishec
but edited first by my father, and afterwards by
side red by oorapetcnt judges to be one of th<
works that ever appeared*

His Treatise on Modem Gardening (as it we
I would form the most suitable annotation on

Bacon's. But it is far too long to be inserted e

' Spare* To re^rici tmestlf; ioforhear.
* We might have *partd our commg/ — Mllto

Q Q %

\

ESSAY XLVII. OF NEGOl

IT is generally better to deal by speech tha
the mediation of a third than by a man'a
good, when a man would draw an answer bj
or when it may serve for a man^s justifica
produce his own letter : or where it may b
terrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal in pei
a man's face breedeth regard, as commonly i
in tender cases, where a man's eye upon tl
him with whom he speaketh may give him a
to go ; and generally, where a man will reserve
either to disavow or expound. In choice of
better to chuse men of a plainer sort, that ar
that is committed to them, and to report bac
the success, than those that are cunning' to coi
men's business somewhat to grace themselves,
matter in report, for satisfaction sake. Use a
as affect ^ the business wherein they are em
quickeneth much ; and such as are fit for th<
men for expostulation, fair-spoken men for ]
men for inquiry and obsen^ation, frosrard and
businesa that doth not well bear out itself,
liave been lucky, and prevailed before in th
have employed them ; for that breeds confideii
strive to maintain their prescription.

It ia better to sound a person with whom o:
than to fall upon the point at first, except you
him by some short question* It is better c
in appetite/ than with those that are where th

' Cannmg.^ SkUfal, ' I will tJiko away the mnitiHg arti
' I will «eTid you a mna of minej
CuAAtn^ ia uiiisic aud the DUkthGmatics.'— 5
' Affect, To like. Soe page 355*
* Apjietite. Uesira.

* Dexterity ao obeying appelites
That what be willf, lie doc^'—Skakes^t.

Essay xlvii.] Annotations.

able employment of an art V ^ Genius
else has remarked^ ' where rules end/ Bui
such as Bacon doubtless could have given
instead of cramping geuius, enable it to ac

One advantage which, in some cases, tl
over the writer is, that he can proceed e
which he judges to be the best ; establishinj
cession, and perhaps keeping out of sight
which he is advancing, if it be one against '
prejudice. For sometimes men will feel 1
arguments which they would not have listen
liad known at the outset to what they were
Thus the lawyer, in the fable, is drawn
decision as to the duty of the owner of an <
a neighbour's. Now, though you may pr(
order, in a letter or a book, you cannot — ii
before the reader at once — ^prevent his lookii
to see what your ultimate design is. And
discomfited, just as a well-drawn-up army m:
in the rere.

Many writers of modem tales have guarde
precluded their readers from forestalling the (
lishing in successive numbers. And an an
may sometimes be secured by writing two
succession, so as gradually to develop the a
proper order.

'^In oral discussions, quickness may give a n
tage over those who may, perhaps, surpass h
ment, but who take more time to form the:
develop their reasons ; and, universally, speali
tage over writing, when the arguments are ph
There is a story of an Athenian, who had a
him in a cause he was to plead, by a profea
which he was to learu by heart. At the fin
delighted with it ; but less iit tlie second ; a
s^^med to hini quite wortliless. He went tc
complain j who reminded hLoi that the judges
ii once.y

And hence, as has been justly remarked, t
ticc of mueh public speaking, tends to culti^

Essay xlvii.] Anuoiatwns, \

arguments^ is like King Lear putting a 1
witlioot eyes, and saying, ^ Mark but the
which he answers, ^ Were all the letters su
one/ But it may be well worth ^hile mn
siich a person much that ia not likely to it
if you have an opportunity of showing it to
that he oti^ht to have been convinced by it.

As for speeches in public, they may be (
taking of both eharaeters j for, as they are i
* reporters J and printed, they are, so far, of
written compositions,

BacoQ remarks in his Essay ^ On Cunning
arc two persons only conferring together, it
make it clear which of them said what. If ■
tryiug to back out of sometliing he has said,
other kind of craft, he will be likely to say, *
to say so and so,' ^ You misunderstood me. I
so/ And when both parties are honest, thi
times a real niisap prehension of what passed
so frequent a cause of quarrels, that the veiy
standing* has come to be used in that sen^.

It is to be observed that when the expressic
not merely what lawyers call ^ obiter dicta' — s
and incidentally thrown out,^ — -but contain tli
general tenor of a full and leisurely discussion
it is much more likely— other things being
should have forgotten what he said, than
have imagined what never took place,
some persons wlio, without any disingenu
merely from a groundless confidence in tl
their own memory, will insist on it that an
mistaken the whole drift of their discourse
never said anything at all like what he distinc
though it is what he closely attended to — ai
strong impression on his mind. In snch a caii
reply, ' Well^ it cannot be denied to be possi
may mistake another, to any e^itent, and uti
stances J but if this is the case with me, th
your fpeaking to me at ailj now, or at any tin
unable to understand aright the general dri

458 Of Nvgotiating, fEssaj xlvii-

sion, in plain Eiiglisli, and to which I paid the closest atten-
tioHj how can 1 be sure that the sense 1 understand your M-ords
to convey at this very moment^ mnj not be something quite as
different from your real meaning, as that which I formerly
understood you to say ? There must be an end therefore of all
oral conference between us. Anything that you wish to com-
mnnicatej you must put down on papefj and let me, on reading
it, express, on paper also, in my own words, what it is that I
tinderstand from it ; and then, these must be shown to one or
two other per^ns, who must declare Avhether I ha.ve rightly
understood you or not ; and must explain my mistake if I haie
made any/

For people who are slippery, cither fmm design or from
treacherous memory, there is nothing like writing.

But it may be remarked generally, that a person who is apt
to complain of ^ not being understood/ even by such as possess
ordinary intelligence and candonrj is one who does not well
understand himselfp

A remark of Dr* Cooke Taylor, in TTte Bishop j bears upon

this subject :—' Much judgment is required to discriminate
between the occasions when business can be best done per-
sonally, and when best by letter. One general rule may be
noted, — disagreements will be best prevented by oral communi-
cations, for then each man may throw out what occurs to him,
without being committed in writing to something from which
he would be ashamed to draw^ back. There is room for mutual
explanation — for softening down harsh expressions — for coming
to an understanding about common objects, which very probably
are not inconsistent so long as the elements of discord retain
the Vcignencss of spoken words. Liter a script a manet,

' When, however, disagreements actually exist, the opposite
course must be pursued j in such a case conversation has an
inevitable tendency to become debate ; and in the heat of argu-
ment something is likely to be thrown out offensive to one
side or the other. Adversaries generally meet, not to end a
dispute, but to continue it ; not to effect reconciliation^ but to
gain a victory; they are, therefore, likely to remembex dif-
ferently what is said^ to put very varied interpretations on tones
and looks^ and to find fresh aUmeot of strife in the means em-

/

Essay xlvii.] Annotations.

ployed for its termination. Even -when ad
express purpose of being reconciled, they
insensibly into the opposite course^ and the
which yon are anxious to have closed. It
of preventing a fight between game cocka
the same pit.'

It is important to observe, that where
of persons possessed with some strong pi
wish to break down, you have a much betti
with them one by one, than together ; beca
other in countenance in holding out agains
which they can find no answer; and are
presence of the rest — to go back firom what
own conviction. But if you untie the fag|
the sticks one by one./

And again, if you wish to make the most
character, so as to overbear superior reasons
do not bring them together, lest some of the
with arguments or objections which you cann
rest should be ashamed to decide, through
you, against what each feels must be the i
but if you take them one by one, each will pi
of setting up himself singly against you ; yoi
prevail at least with each one who cannot hi
and these will probably be the majority.*

But, on the other hand, if there are some pr
that are on your side, and cool argument would
then, according to what has been said just ab
easily manage a number of men together, tha

It is told of the celebrated Wilkes, thi
meeting he sat next to a person who, being i

^ Some Reviewer, if I recollect rightly, takes for gran
scribing my own practice. On the same principle he woi
he heard of some anatomist, who bad pointed out the situ
of the hnman frame, where a woand was likely to prove
the man must he an asscunn!

It is not perhaps wonderfal that a person of low moral
judging firom himself — ^that one who knows of some craft
practise it. But any one of even a moderate degree of
that a person who does practise such tricks, is not very like
iion of them. Burglars do not send word to the master o
they design to break in.

4^0 0/ Negotiating. [E^ay xl™.

course matters were taking, kept exclaiming, ^ I caimot allow
this to go on ! 1 must take the sense of the Meeting on this
point/ Whereupon Wilkes is said to have whispered to himj
' Do so, if you will ; Til take the nonsense of the Meeting
against yon, and beat jon.'

Some persona have an excessive dread of following in the
wake of another j wishing to l>e accounted the originatoi^s of
any measure they advocate. In dealing with a man of this
character, you must be ready (supposing you are more anxious
to effect some good object, than to obtain the credit of it) to
humour this kind of vanity, by allowing him to take the lead,
and to fancy, if he insists on it, that the view he adopts was a
snggestion of liis own. JIany a man^s co-operation may be
purchased at this price, who would have disdained the thought
of favouring another person's scheme. You must be prepared,
therefore, if you arc acting with true singleness of purpose, to
say, with the hero in the iEncid,

. . . . ' liffic djra meo dimi VBlaere peatls
Pulsa cadatj patrituD rcmeabo iaglariuB urbeta.^

In dealing with those who have prejudices to be got over,
and whose co-operation or conviction you wish for, it is well
worth remembering that there are two opposite kinds of dispo-
sition in men, requiring opposite treatment* One manj perhaps
intelligent, and not destitute of candour, but with a consider-
able share of what phrenologists call the organs of Firmness^
and of Combativeness, will set himself to find objections to your
proposals or \iews ; and the more you urge him to come to an
immediate decision on your side, and own himself over(x>me by
your arguments, the more resolutely he will maintain his first
position, and will at length commit himself irrecoverably to
opposition. Your wisest course, therefore, with such a man
will bcj after having laid before hira your reasons, to recommend
him to reflect calmly on thera, and so leave him to consult his
pillow. And it will often happen that he will reason himself
into your riews. Lejive the arrow sticking in his prejudicCj
and it will gradually bleed to death.

With another man, of a very different character, it will be
wise to pursue au opposite course* If you urge hira with the
strongest reasons^ and answer all his objections, and then leave
him apparently a convert, you will find tlie next time you meet

Essay xlvii.] Annotations,

him^ that you have all to do over again j
had said having faded away. Your only
man, is to continue pressing him, till he
his consent, or plainly declared his acquiesc
brought him, as it were, formally to pass
liament of his own mind, and to have thi
in your favour.

OP course, you must watch for any sym
dicate which kind of man you have to deal

Another caution to be observed is, that in
as a speaker or a writer, deep-rooted preju<
ing unpopular truths, the point to be aimt
adduce what is sufficient, and not much nu
to prove your conclusion. If you can bi
your opinion is decidedly more probable tha
will have carried your point more efiectuall]»
much beyond this, to demonstrate, by a mu
forcible arguments, the extreme absurdity of i
till you have affronted the self-esteem of sc
the distrust of others. ' Some will be stu
shame passing off into resentment, which
against argument. They could have borne
their opinion : but not, so to change it as
opinion with the grossest folly. They woi
think they had been blinded to such an exces
with him who is endeavouring to persuade
that these feelings determine them not to t1
(and it is an attempt which few persons eve
shut their eyes against an humiliating coi
the very triumphant force of the reasoning
harden them against admitting the conclui
may conceive Roman soldiers desperately b
tenable fortress to the last extremity, frc
being made to pass under the yoke by the ^
fiurrender.

^Otliers again J perhai)« comparatively str
lion, and not prejudiced, or not strongly
your conclusion, but ready to admit it if suf
argil meatsj will sometimes, if Tour argum
beyond what is sufficientj have thek suspic

^6% Of Negotiating. fEsaay xlvii-

very circumstance. ^ Can it be possible/ they will say, ' that a
conclusion so very obvious as tliis is made to appear^ should
not have been admitted long ago ? Is it conceivable that such
and such eminent philosopherSj divineSj statesmen^ &c.j should
have been all their lives under delusions so gross ?^ Hence
they are apt to infer, either that the author has mistaken the
opinions of those he imagines opposed to hinij or else, that
there is some subtle fallacy in liis arguments/*

This is a distrust that reminds one of the story related by a
Prcnch writer, M. Say, of some one who, for a wagej, stood a
whole day on one of the bridges in PariSj offering to sell a five-
franc piece for one franc, and (naturally) not finding a purchaser*
In this way the ^^rj clear u ess and force of the demonstration
wiilj with some minds, have an opposite tendency to the one
desired. Labourers who arc employed in driving wedges into a
block of wood, are careful to use blows of no greater force than
is just sufficient. If they strike too hard, the elasticity of the
wood will throw out the wedge.

It may be noticed here that the effect produced by any
writing or speech of an argnmentative character, on any subjects
on which diversity of opinion prevails, may be eora pared — ^sup-
posing the argument to be of any weight— to the effects of a
fire-engine on a conflagration* That portion of the water which
falls on solid stone walls, is poured out where it is not needed.
That, again, which falls ou blazing beams aud rafters, is cast off
in volumes of hissing steam, and will seldom avail to quench
the fire. But that which is poured on wood -work that is just
beginning to kindle, may stop the huming ; and that whieli
wets the rafters not yet ignited, but in danger, may save them
from catching fire. Even so, those who abeady concur with
the writer as to some point, will feel gratified with, and perhaps
bestow high commendation on an able defence of the opinions
they already held ; and those, again, who have fully made up
their minds on the opposite side, are more likely to be displeased
than to be convinced. But both of these parties are left nearly
in the same mind as before. Those, however, who are in a
hesitating aud doubtful state, may very likely be decided by
forcible arguments. And those who have not hitherto consi*
dered the subject, may be induced to adopt opinions which they

* £icmenii of Rhetoric, Piwt L d)* iiL

similar T^'ay by cavillers. ' Are these Vi&itors,^ it was said, ^ to
have the cure of soul a* ? Are they to expound Scripture to the
pec pie J and give them religious instruction and admonitious,
just as the pastor does ? If so, they ougli t to be regularly or-
dained clergymen j and should be called curates. Or, are they
merely to be the bearers of eommunications between the people
and the pastor, and not to venture^ wit!iout his express orders,
to rend a passage of Scripture to a sick m an , or to explain to
him the meaning of such words as ' Publican ^ or ' Pharisee V
In that case they will fall into contempt as trifiers/

If yon auswer that they are not to be so rigidly re-stricted as
that ; but are to reserve for the Minister any important or diffi-
cult points; the caviller will reply ^-' And who is to be the judgt
what are the most important and difficult points^ and what
the easier and more obvious. If this is to be left to the discre-
tion of the Visitor himself, he will take every thiug into his
own hands ; but if it is to be referred to the Ministerj then, the
Visitor will be nothing but a mere messenger.^ In like manner
it might be asketl, whether the nurse in an hospital is to admi-
nister or withhold medicines, and perform surgical operations,
at discretion, and, iu short, to usurp all the f mictions of the
physician, or whether she is not to be allowed to smooth a
patient's pillow, or moisten his lips, or wipe his brow, without a
wi'itten order from the doctor.

The Israelites in the Wilderness were perverse enough, no
doubt ; but if there had been cavillers among them, it would
have been easy to find plausible objections to the appointment
bj Moses of the seventy Elders, who were to decide all small
matters, and to reserve the weightier ones for him, ' Who is
to be the judge,' it might have been said, ^ which are the
weightier causes ? If, the Elders themselves, then they may
keep all matters in their own hands, and leave no jurisdiction at
all in Moses : but if he is to be consulted on each point, he will
not be saved any tronble at all ; because every case will have to
be laid before him.'

Nevertheless the plan did seem on the whole to work well ;
and so it was found, iti practice, with the institution of Parochial
Visitors ; and so, with the British Constitution.

One coui^e generally adopted by the caviller, with respect to
any proposal that is brought forward, is, if it be made in i/eneral
terms, to call for detailed pariieulars, and to eayj ^ explain dis-

466 Of ttegotiating, [Essay xlvii.

E, g, ' What is wanted, is, not this and that improvement in
the mode of electing Members of Parliament, — but a Parliament
consisting of truly honest, enlightened, and patriotic men. It
is vain to talk of any system of Church-government, or of
improved Church-discipline, or any alterations in our Services,
or revision of the Bible-translation ; what we want is a zealous
and truly evangelical ministry, who shall assiduously inculcate
on all the people pure Gospel doctrine. It is vain to cast cannon
and to raise troops ; what is wanted, for the successful conduct
of the war, is an army of well-equipped and well-disciplined men,
under the command of generals who are thoroughly masters of
the art of war,' &c. And thus one may, in every department
of life, go on indefinitely making fine speeches that can lead to
no practical result, except to create a disgust for everything that
is practical.

When (in i83:z) pubHc attention was called to the enormous
mischiefs arising from the system of Transportation, we were
told in reply, in a style of florid and indignant declamation, that
the real cause of all the enormities complained of, was, a ' want
of suflScient fear of God; (!) and that the only remedy wanted
was, an increased fear of Gk>dl' As if, when the unhealthiness
of some locality had been pointed out, and a sug^stion had
been thrown out for providing sewers, and draining marshes,
it had been replied that the root of the evil was, a prevaihng
want of health ; — that it was strange, this — the true cause —
should have been overlooked; — and that the remedy of all
would be to provide restored health !

As for the penal colonies, all that is required to make them
efficient, is, we must suppose, to bring in a Bill enacting that
' Whereas, &c., be it therefore enacted, that from and after the
first of January next ensuing, all persons shall fear Qt)d I'^

It is such Utopian declaimers that give plausibility to the
objections of the cavillers above noticed.

It is but &ir, after one has admitted (supposing it is what
ought to be admitted) the desirableness of the end proposed, to
call on the other party to say whether he knows, or can think
of, any means by which that end can be attained.

' See Letters to Sari Oreys and also Lectwree on Political Economy,

ESSAY XLVIII. OF FOLL(
FRIENDS.

COSTLY followers are not to be liket
makctk his traio longer^ lie make li
reckon to he costly, not tliem alone which
■which are wearisome and importune^ in
lowers ought to challenge no higher conditio
recommendation J and protection from ^r
lowers are worse to be liked, which follow
to him with whom they range themselves, i
ment^ conceived agaiust some ofeher; w
enaueth that ill intelligence * that we man;
great personages. Likewise glorious * ft
themselves as trumpets of the commenda
foUoWj are full of inconvenience, for they tai
ivant of secrecy^ and they eiiport honour fro
him a return in euvy. Tliere is a kind of
which are dangerous, being indeed espiatSj*
secrets of the house, and bear tales of them
men many times are in great favour^ for the
commonly exchange tales. The following h

* TjoaportniDe. Impotiuaate.

* More shiLU thy petiji^ut aiglia, his ondlcara mercy plcf
Than thdr imporii^n4! flQitit whicli dreame tlmt wordes

' Upon. Ii^ comeqv^ice (jf, * Upon pity tliey were tal
they were a gum dcmandaL' — Hat/tcard,

* Disixiutentiiient. IH^tonteni. * Tell of your eneimjo
Slfxie Triaht rf>00.

* 111 intelligunce. Bad term^. ' He liyed ratlier m i
any friepdahip with thi? fiiTourlt^/ — Clarend<in.

* GloriOHB. Boastful.

* We liBT© not
Received into our hosomj &nd our ^
A fflorioKs Iflzy droUG^* — Massinffer,
' Kspialfl* Bpialw ; rpie«,

* Offidoufl, Uteful : diitn^ good oJ^C€9.

' Tet, not to earth are those hright lutninj
O0iciotu ; but to thee, earth'4 habitant,'
^ Kstfttefl of men. Ord^r* of meji, See page 204.

fl

468 OJ Followers and Friends. [Essay xlviii.

men, answerable to that which a great man himself professeth
(as of soldiers to him that hath been employed in the wars, and
the like), hath ever been a thing civil,^ and well taken even in
monarchies, so it be without too much pomp or popularity : but
the most honourable kind of following is to be followed as one
that apprehendeth^ to advance virtue and desert in all sorts of
persons ; and yet, where there is no eminent odds in sufficiency,'
it is better to take with the more passable than with the more
able : and, besides, to speak truth in base times, active men are
of more use than virtuous. It is true, that in government it is
good to use men of one rank equally : for to countenance some
extraordinarily is to make them insolent, and the rest discon-
tent,* because they may claim a due ; but contrariwise in favour,
to use men with much difference* and election, is good ; for it
maketh the persons preferred more thankful, and the rest more
officious j because all is of favour. It is good discretion not to
make too much of any man at the first, because one cannot
hold out that proportion. To be governed (as we call it) by
one, is not safe, for it sliowa Boftneas,* and gi?es a freedom to
scandal and disreputation/ for those, that would not censure or
speak ill of a man iramediatelyj will talk more boldly of those
that are so great with them, and thereby wound their honour;
yet to be distracted with raanyj is worse^ for it makes men to
be of the last impression, and full of change. To take advice
- — ^ '

^ Civil. Decorouw,

' Where HvU fipeech and soft pcirfiuaHtoii liun^**^ — Pope,
^ Approbend. To conceive j to take in ttt an obJecL

* CfiD we wast (jbccliGncOj thea»
To Him, or possitily bia love desert,
Wlio formed ua frow the di4ift, and pltticed ua here,
FuU to tbe utmost me^iRurE? of wLiit blias
Human deair^ can HM^k, or ctj^pr^/ietidJ — MtlloHw

* Sofficlcncy. AhiUty, See pogtj 27^^.

^ Dusoontent. l^iscanfenf^. ^ Ttia (llaoounteDanctid and diifconient^ thege tbe
Earl aingles out, ^a be^t for UU pur|JOW.^ — Ea^tcard,

' Diflfercnco* DiHinvUon, * Our constitatimi does not onlj malce a differvnea
between the guilty Rnd the innocent, bat even among tho guilty, between sudi hs
are more of less oh^GTv^'^Additon,

* Softoeas, Weakji^g*.

' Under a ahepherd ^qfte and nt^li^nt,
The wolfa bath many a sheep (iiid lambe to rent.*— C^dwoer.
7 Diireputatlon. DL^repHle. * Gluttony U not in anch dimpuiaiion usmig
men as 6^vmkei2^mi,*—Bish&p Taylor*

Essay xlviii.} Armotatiom.

of some few friends j is ever honourable i '
times aec more tlian gamesters ; and tlie
the hill* There is little friendship in tlu
all between equals j which was wont^ to \
that isj is between superior aad inferior,
comprehend the one the other.

ANNOTATIONS. '

' They taint business through want t

Henry Taylor^ in the Statesman , has a gi
advantage of tniating thoroughly rather thi
there are some who will be raore likely to \
one only is confidedj than if they felt the
altogether. They will then, he thinks^ he la
boastful proof of the confidence reposed in
iug it

' A kind offoUowers which bear \

It is obserrable that flatterers are nsually t
we have in Proverbs the caution, ' He that
talc-bearer, rcvcaleth secrets; therefore medi
that flattereth with his lips/

' Lookers-on many times see more than

This proverbial maxima which bears witness
sometimes possessed by an observant by-st
actually engaged in any transaction, has a pa
proverb :

He IB a good borler that'* on the dltc
* Wwit» Accuii&med. Soc page 43

M^

ESSAY 5LTX. OF SU

ANY ill matters and projects are uin
Buit3 do putrefy the public good. Mi
undertaken with bad minds — I mean not
bat crafty minds^ that inten<l not performai
II suitSj which never mean to deal efteetually i

]jf see there may be life in the matter, by son

will be content to win a thank/ or take a si
least, to make use iii the meantime of the si
take bold of suits only for an occasion to i
to make* an information, whereof they could
apt pretext, without care what become of
turn ia served; or, generally^ to make othc
kind of entertainment^ to bring in their own
take suits with a full purpose to let them
gratify the adverse party, or competitor.
some sort a right in every suit : either a righ
a suit of controversy, or a right of desert,
petition. If affection lead a man to favour
justice, let him rather use his ooantenance
tnatter than to carry it. If affection lead a
less worthy in desert, let him do it without
abling the better deserver. In suits whicl
well undei^tand, it is good to refer them to t

^ Mean. Mffint. See pftge aoi-

■ A thank. Seldom used in the ninqtdar, * Tbe foal 6
all mj good deed ; and thej tbat eat my bread speak evil c
^ SeoQnd* Sf-condary i inferi&r.

' Each glnnct?* each pni
Keep their first In^trf? and inniritAin their p
Not second jet to iitjj other fiuse.'— Z>ryrfen

* Make. Give. ' They all with one caneent bi^gan
XIV. 18.

* Entertainment. J^refimiaaiy commnnicaiioitM ^ The
K^me gentle enlertainmeni to Loerte^j boturc joti fjill to ph

* Deprave. To viftfy. 'And thiit knoweth eoiuciena
Da to deprave the personne.' — I*i*^r9 Plovffkmait, ' Km
uotMiig but d€^rav€ and ifp*iak ill of virtuous domg.'— ^ffl

47 2 Of Suitors. [Essay xlix.

and judgment^ that may report whether he may deal in them
with honour ; but let him chuse well his referendaries/ for else
he may be led by the nose. Suitors are so distasted ' with
delays and abiises/ that plain dealing in denying to deal in
suits at firsts and reporting the success barely, and in chal-
lenging no more thanks than one hath deserv^, is grown not
only honourable, but also gracious. In suits of favour, the
first coming ought to take little place ;^ so far forth* considera-
tion may be had of his trusty that if intelligence of the matter
could not otherwise have been had but by him, advantage be
not taken of the note,* but the party left to his other means^
and in some sort recompensed for his discovery. To be ignorant
of the value of a suit is simplicity^ as well as to be ignorant of
the right thereof is want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is a
great mean of obtaining; for voicing' them to be in forwardness
may discourage some kind of suitors^ but doth quicken * and
awake others ; but timing of the suit is the principal — timing,
I say, not only in respect of the person who should grant it,
but in respect of those which are like to cross it. Let a man,
in the choice of his mean,' rather chuse the fittest mean than
the greatest mean ; and rather them that deal in certain things,

* Referendaries. JUferees. * Who was legate at the dooings, who was
referendarie, who was prendente, who was presente.' — Bishop Jewell,

' Distaste. To iUgutU ^ These new edicts, that so duiatte the people.'—*
Seywood.

' Ahnses. Deception,

* Lend me yonr kind pains to find out this dbuse^' — Shaketpere,
^ Place. JEffect,

* Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him,
That they take pUice^ when virtue's steely hones
Look bleak in the cold wind.' — Shakespere.

* So far forth. To the degree. * The substance of the service of Ood, 90 far
forth as it hath in it anything more than the love of reason doth teach, most not
be invented of man, but received fh>m God himself.'— -iToolrar.

' Arraied for this feste, in every wise
80 f(ur forth as his connynge may suffice.'— Cftovosr.

* Note. Notifications information.

' She that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were past,
(The man i' the moon's too slow.)' — Shak^pere.
7 Voice. To report. ' It was voiced that the king proposed to put to death
Edward Plantagenet.' — Shakespere,

" Quicken. To bring to life. See page 430.

' Mean. Instrument. 'Pamela's noble heart would needs gratefully make
known the valiant mean of her snfQty.*^ Sidney.

Essay xlix.] Annotations.

than those that are general. The repart
sometimes equal to the first grants if a man
dejected nor discontented. ^ Iniquum peta
is a good rule where a man hath strength c
wise^ a man were better rise in his suit^ for
ventured at first to have lost ' the suitor, y
cluaioiij lose both the suitor and hh own forrr
is thought ao easy a request to a ^reat per so
yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is so mt
tation. There are no worse instruments thai
trivers of suits, for they are but a kind of i
to public procccdiugs*

ANNOTATIONS.

*^ ii be not in a good came, ii is so m
reputation.^

To this very joat and important remark ]
added J that even in ' a good cause/ a recon
one is likely to be regarded as a favour asked,
will be expected* Nor is this, perhaps, altoge
For, a Minister of State, for instance, ma;
wanted your advice for our own sake, we sho
you ; but if you offer a suggestion unasked ^ o
it must be reckoned a kiuducss done to you,
expect a return/ And one who has laid
obligation to a Minister, if be is afterwards a
dispense patronage, contrary to his own jadj
very awkward either to comply or to refuse-

The best course, in general is, to write a 1
hitnseif whose views you would promotCj
opinion of him, with liberty to show the le
reference to you for character.

* ' Aflk far what U linjnfltj iu order that thou mayest (
^ Loft Euined,

* Therefot^ mark my oounael
p * * > or both youreelf tmd me

Essay 1.]

Of Studies.

much canning, to seem to know that^ he d
make men wise ; poets witty ; the mathcmi
philosophy deep ; morale grave ; logic ao
contend : * Abeunt studia in mores* ^-^ — nay^ t
impediment in the wit, bat may be wrought
like aa diseases of the body may have app
bowling i» good for the stone and reins/ sh(
and breast, gentle walking for the stotnaclij
and the like i so^ if a man's wits be wandei
the mathematics ; for in demonstrations, i\
away never so little, he must begin again ; i
to distinguish or find differenc^,^ let him sti
for they are ' cymini sectores f^ if he be n
matters^ and to call upon one thing to pi
another, let him study the lawyers' cases—
the mind may have a special receipt.

JlNTItheta on studies.

Pbo*

' Leetio est cooiTeTiatio cam pTuden- ' Qum tmqtia

iitnis ; actio ferv emu stultis, ynm artiA tunam

^iW reading, trw hold convene voith ' WJttU art ,

the tciye ; im the hmtinem of l^e, gene* ettitahie uw of t
ralt^ tcith ihefoolUh'

* Arti9 secpissi

* Non mutilei sdetitiv exiEtimandic Kit nulltii.
imtt, qoaram m se ttutluB mt hsoa, si ' A hrarick oj
ingenia acmmt, et DTilment. to an impr&per

* We should not eonttd^r even thote idle/
Mcien&ee v^hich have mo actual practii^ai
applicaiwn in themieli>cs, a* mihout
value, if they sharpen and train th«
intellect/

' That, Whttt. See pog« 73.

^ * Maimers Jire inflticncL'd by utudics/

* StoQct Mindrance^. See poge 413,

* Wrought, Wt^rked, ' Who, throiigb fmitb, vsroiighl t
33. ' How (^r^t is Thy gacdnatjaj wbicb Thou boat ttroHt^
in Thee V — Psaim ixxi, itj

* Ilcioft, Kidtteyt } imoard part*, * Whom 1 dmU Be<
rfimx bti (XtnstitDGd within Tne/^-i7o£ xjx. 21-

' DLfferenc4». DUtlnctionSy See page 46^.
? * Splitters of enmmlty' — Vid. A. L. t. Vll, 7,

Essay 1.] Annotations.

part of the poem turns on his being detainei
want of his armour.

The contempt of studies, whether of era!
minded men, often finds its expression in
ing f and the couplet is become almost a p:

' A little learning ie a dangerooa thing j
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian 8|

But the poet's remedies for the dangers of i
both of them impossible. None can ^ drink ^
in truth, anything more than yery superficial
Being, that is not a downright idiot, must i

It is plainly impossible that any man shoi
ledge of all that is to be known, on all subjc
meant that, on each particular subject on w
anything at all, he should be perfectly well in
may fairly be asked, what is the * well V — hoi
is to be called * little* or ' much V For, in i
the very utmost that had been acquired by 1
cients, a century and a half back, falls short •
to many a boarding-school miss now. And i
posterity, a century and a half hence, will in
just as much in advance of us. And in c
utmost knowledge that any man can attain t
learning* in comparison of what he remains i
view resembles that of an American forest, ir
trees a man cuts down, the greater is the exj
sees around him.

But supposing you define the ' much ' and
reference to the existing state of knowledge ii
and country, would any one seriously advise t
not proficients in astronomy should remain
the earth moves or the sun ? — ^that unless ;
master of agriculture, as far as it is at present
is no good in your knowing wheat from bar]
you are such a Grecian as Porson, you had I
construe the Greek Testament ?

The other recommendation of the poet, ' tas
say, have no learning, — ^is equally impossible. H
body has, and everybody ought to havCj a slig

Essay 1.] Annotadojis.

hoases of the nobility, and finding tome ehl(
had been naed for the purpose of disinfectii
the poison irhich had caused the disease;
them. Now, that was the sort of ' little h
very dangerous.

Again, we cannot preyent people from bel
some superhuman Being who has regard
Some clowns in the Weald of Kent, who
much as possible on the ^ taste not' system,
gross ignorance, — yet belieyed that the Deity
powers to certain men : and that belief, cou{
stupidity, led them to take an insane fanatic
this case, this ^little learning' actually caust
in his &vour, in order to make him king, prie
the British empire ; and many lives were sac
insane insurrection was put down. If a ^ Ih
' dangerous thing,' you will have to keep p
state of idiotcy in order to avoid that danger,
fore, say that both the recommendations of
practicable.

The question arises, what are we to do ? I
upon ourselves and upon all people the import
in that much neglected branch of human know
ledge of our own ignorance ; — and of remembt :
a confession of real ignorance that real kn <
gained. But even when that further knowled} i
still even the knowledge of the ignorance is
itself; so great, it seems, as to constitute So :
of his time.

Some of the chief sources of unknown ignorai
noticing here. They are to be found in our i
I . How inadequate a medium language is for co
a. How inadequate our very minds are for th ;
of many things. 3. How little we need urn I
which may yet be familiar to ns, and which
reasoning. This piece of ignorance is closely cc
two foregoing. (Hence, frequently, men will at!
nation of a phenomenon, a mere statement of
other words.) 4. How utterly ignorant we
causes ; and how the philosopher who refers tci

Essay 1.] Annotations.

ledge imparted^ as in the kind and the n
Habits early engrafted on children^ of re
steady application to what they are about, —
to the directions they receive, — of cleanline
and modest behaviour, cannot but be of a(
after life, whatever their station may be. .
familiar acquaintance with the precepts an
who, when all stations of life were at his coi
the reputed son of a poor mechanic, and t
and fishermen ; or, again, of his apostle Pau
' ministered to his necessities,' and to those
— such studies, I say, can surely never tend
a life of humble and contented industry.

What, then, is the ' smattering' — ^the impe
knowledge — that really does deserve contem
superficial knowledge is justly condemned, w!
place of more full and exact knowledge. Su
with chemistry and anatomy, e,g., as would
not useless, to a lawyer, would be contemptil
and such an acquaintance with law as won
him, would be a most discreditable smatterin

It is to be observed that the word smatt(
two different kinds of scanty knowledge — th
the superficial ; though it seems the more st
the latter. Now, as it is evident that no
things perfectly, it seems best for a man to i
his main object, according to, first, his caU
natural bent ; or thirdly, his opportunities : t
slight knowledge of what ^Ise is worth it, regu
by the same three circumstances ; which shoi
in great measure, where an elementary, and ^
knowledge is the more desirable. Such as ai
nified and philosophical nature are most pro]
study; and such as we are the most likelyto be c
tise for ourselves, the most proper for superficia
to most men of no practical use, and, oonseq
while, to learn by heart the meaning of son
characters ; but it might be very well worth i
principles on which that most singular langua
contra, there is nothing very carious or ii

482 Of studies. [Essay 1.

structure of the Portuguese language ; but if one were going to
travel in Portugal, it would be worth while to pick up some words
and phrases. If both circumstances conspire, then, both kinds
of information are to be sought for ; and such things should be
learned a little at both ends; that is, to understand the ele-
mentary and fundamental principles, and also to know some of
the most remarkable results — a little of the rudiments, and a
little of what is most called for in practice. E.g., a man who
has not made any of the physical or mathematical sciences his
favourite pursuit, ought yet to know the principles of geome-
trical reiiBoning, and the elements of mechanics; aud also know,
by rote, something of the magnitude, distances, and motions of
the heavenly bodies^ though without having gone over the intCT-
mediate course of scientiftc demonstration-

Grammar J logic, rhetoric, and metaphysics, (or the philosophy
of mind,} are manifestly studies of aii elementary nature, being
concerned about the instruments which we employ iu effecting
our purpose ; and ethics^ which is, in fact, a branch of meta-
phyaicsj may be called the elements of conduct. Such knovr-
ledge is far from showy. Elements do not much come into
sight ; they are like that part of a bridge which is tinder water,
and ifl therefore least admired, though it is not the work of least
art and difficulty. On this ground it is suitable to females, as
least leading to that pedantry which learned ladies must ever
be peculiarly liable to, as well as least exciting that jealousy to
which they must ever be exposed, while learning in them con-
tinues to be a distinction, A woman might, in this way, be very
learned without any one's finding it out*

It may be worth while to suggest, that any student who is
conscious of some indolence^ and a disposition to procrastiuate,
will do well to task himself; laying down some rules — not bard
one& — which he resolves to conform to, strictly. Ifj for in-
stance, he has a mind to master some science or language, or
to read through some book, or to write one, let him r^olve to
sit down to this work and do sonieihing o{ it, however little,
every day, or on certain fixed days in every week, as the case
may be* And it will often happen, that when, in compliance
with his rule, he does thus set himself, perhaps reluctantly, to
the task, he will, on some days, go beyoud his resolution, and
make a sensible progress* But if he had allowed himself to

Essay 1.] Annotations.

wait for the humour^ it might, perhaps^ 1
aU.

But the rule should be^ as I have said
lest^ like over-severe laws^ (and a resolutic
law,) it should be violated; according U
* Wide will wear, but tight will tear."

A. B. was a young man of respectabL
making such encouraging prepress in stud
his Degree, that he was in a fair way to g.
He was obliged, however, to go, for his heal
in another country, where he had many re
advised him to form a resolution to sit dovi
happen what might — for one hour every day,
divert him from this ; never allowing any ext
to compensate for a departure from the rul
will thus, said he, make sure of at least r
have acquired ; which, otherwise, you will, in
be liable rapidly to lose.

Oh, he replied, I mean to study hard : I shs
a day during the whole of my absence. Wc
your resolve to read at least one hour, will
to your doing more. But I fear that numei
parties, &c., will call you off; and if you c
much, it may end in your doing nothing.

He was deaf, however, to this reasonii :
designing, — and continuing to design, for nearb
to-morrow, or next week, reading eight hour
came home without having once opened hii
so disheartened at finding that he had forg
it would cost him several months' hard worl
to put himself just where he had been befc i
that he abandoned his studies in disgust, anc
thing to signify for the rest of his life.

^ See FroverlM and Pra^U*

I I

Essay 1.] Annotations.

' There is^ in fact^ a danger of its proving
the profitable study of Scripture ; for^ so stn
apt to be established in the mind between
and the technical sense to which they hai
some theological system^ that when the
them in Scripture^ he at once understands
in passages where perhaps an unbiassed
context would plainly show that such wa
meaning. And such a student one may oi
the most unfeigned wonder at the blindi
cannot find in Scripture such and such doci
to him to be as clearly set forth there as
which perhaps they are^ on the (often gral
that those words are everywhere to be un(
the sense which he has previously derived
system, — a system through which, as thrc
medium, he views Scripture. But this is nc
for one's guide, but rather to make one^
Scripture.

* Others, again, there are, who are habit
Bible, and perhaps of little else, but who y
be said to study anything at all on the s
because, as was observed just above, they d<
to exercise their mind on the subject, but tru
enlightened and guided by the mere act of i
minds remain in a passive state. And some,
thus on principle; considering that they a
cipients of revealed truth the less they e:
reason.

'But this is to proceed on a totally mis
real province of reason. It would, indeed, b
attempt substituting for revelation, coi^jecturi
own mind, or to speculate on matters cone
have an imperfect knowledge imparted to us 1
could have had, without it, none at all. B
not to use, but to abuse, our rational faculties
our senses, which are as much the gift of tb
thing dse we enjoy, — and by employing ov
objects around us, we can obtain a certain an
knowledge. And beyond this, there are certai

1.] Annotations.

' antidpatio natorsB ;' that \&, instead of
and experiment, forming conjectures as t
likely, or filling, according to some Iiypotb
selves. In like manner, in studying an
keep aparl interpretation and conjecture.

A good teacher warns a student of som
language that he is learning, not to guess
likely to have meant, and then twist the wc
against the idiom of the language ; but to 1
in the first instance; and then, if a difficu
remains, to guess which of the possible me
is the most likely to be the right.

E.ff, The words in the original of John
/mOrrrrig/ plainly signify ' the other disciple
commentators, perceiving that this is incc
opinion he had taken up, that this disdpk
(since John had not been mentioned befor
therefore, would make it refer to Judas, wl
just above named), boldly suggests that th(
wrong (though all the MSS. agree in it), an
ought to be omitted, because it spoils the i
sense which agrees with a conjecture adopted
words of the passage.

This one instance may serve as a specim
which some, instead of interpreting an aut
re-write what he has said.

The like rule holds good in other studies, i
in that of a language. We should be ever on
the tendency to read through coloured spectac

Educational habits of thought, analogies, c
ings, feelings, and wishes, &;c., will be alwi
form some conjectural hypothesis, which i
hurtful, and may sometimes fiimish a usefu
must be most carefully watched, lest it prodv
and lead you to strain into a conformity wi
the phenomena before you.

A man sets out with a conjecture as to *<
are likely to have said, or ought to have sa
with the theological system he has learnt ;
High may have done or designed ; or what is

able to the ' analogy of faith ;'* i.e., of a piece with the christian
system, — ^namely, that which he has been taught, by fallible
men, to regard as the christian system ; and then he proceeds
to examine Scripture, as he would examine, with kacUnff
questions, a witness whom he had summoned in his cause.

'As the fool thinketb.
So the beU chinketh.'

Perhaps he sprays through* all the Bible; not with a candid
and teachable mind, seeking instruction, but (unconsciously)
praying that he may find himself in the right. And he will
seldom fail.

' Hie liber est in qno qnssrit sna dogmata qniaqne ;
Invenit et pariter dogmata qnisque sua.'

' In tins book many students seek each one to find
The doctrine or precept thafs most to his mind ;
And each of them finds what he earnestly seeks ;
For as the fool thinks, even so the bell speaks.'

It is the same with philosophy. If you have a strong wish
to find phenomena such as to confirm the conjectures you have
formed, and allow that wish to bias your examination, you are
ill-fitted for interrogating Nature. Both that, and the other
volume of the records of what God does, — Eevelation, — are to
be interrogated, not as witnesses^ but as instructors. You must
let all your conjectures hang hose upon you ; and be prepared
to learn from what is written in each of those volumes, with
the aid of the conjectures of reason ; not from reason (nor, by
the bye, from feelings and fancies, and wishes, and human
authority), with Scripture for your aid.

This latter procedure, which is a very common one with
theological students, may be called making an anagram of
Scripture, — ^taking it to pieces and reconstructing it on the
model of some human system of ^ Institutes -' building a Temple
of one^s own, consisting of the stones of the true one, pulled
down, and put together in a new fashion.

Yet divines of this description are often considered by others
as well as by themselves, pre-eminently scriptural, from their
continual employment of the very words of Scripture, and their
readiness in citing a profusion of texts. But, in reality, instead
of using a human commentary on Scripture, they use Scripture

^ See Campbell Onthe Gotpels.

Essay I.] Annotations.

above suggested^ will have been learnt in
have been far the more thoroughly understo
incomparably the better in the memory/
^ Curiosity is as much the parent of atten
of memory ; therefore the first business of t
only in point of time, but of importance — i
not merely a general curiosity on the subje<
a particular curiosity od particular ]>oints in
teach one who has no curiosity to leani, h i
out ploughing it. /

And this process saves a student fram h
intellectually damaged by having a very go<
an unskilful teacher is content to put befo
they have to learn, and ascertaining that 1
And thus those of them whose memory is rt
have their mind left in a merely passive sta
person always carried about in a sedan chair,
lost the use of his limbs. And then it is m^
a person who has been so weU taught, and
in learning and remembering, should not pn
which is about as reasonable as to expect
cistenij if filled, should be converted into a p
Many are saved, by the deficiency of their me
spoiled by their education ; for, those who bav<
memory are driven to supply its defects by t
do not remember a mathematical dcmoustrati(
to devise one- If they do not exactly retain
Smith have said, they are driven to conaide
likeli/ to have said, or ought to have said,
faculties are invigorated by exercise,

NoWj this kind of e^Eercise a skilful teacl
a!i ; so that no one shall be spoiled by the
memory,

A very common practice may be here noti*
be avoided, if we would create a habit of stud
that of making children learn hy vote what tl
»tand, 'It is done on this plea — that they w
the meaning of what they have been thus ta
able to make a practical use of it.' ' But no at

492 Of Studies. [Essay 1.

of time can be more injudicious. Let any child whose capacity
is so far matured as to enable him to comprehend an explana-
tion, — e.g., of the Lord^s Prayer — ^have it t/ien put before him
for the first time, and when he is made acquainted with the
meaning of it, set to learn it by heart ; and can any one doubt
that, in less than half a day^s application^ he would be able
to repeat it fluently ? And the same would be the case with
other forms. All that is learned by rote by a child before
he is competent to attach a meaning to the words he utters,
would not, if all put together, amount to so much as would
cost him, when able to understand it, a week^s labour to learn
perfectly. Whereas, it may cost the toil, often the vain toil,
of many years, to unlearn the habit of formalism — of repeating
words by rote without attending to their meaning ; a habit
which every one conversant with education knows to be, in all
subjects, most readily acquired by children, and with difficulty
avoided, even with the utmost care of the teacher ; but which
such a plan must inevitably tend to generate. It is often said,
and very truly, that it is important to form early habits of
piety ; but to train a child in one kind of habit, is not the
most likely way of forming the opposite one j and nothing can
be more contrary to true piety, than the Romish superstition
(for such in fact it is) of attaching efficacy to the repetition of
a certain form of words as a charm, independent of the under-
standing and of the heart.

' It is also said, with equal truth, that we ought to take advan-
tage of the facility which children possess of learning words: but
to infer from thence, that Providence designs us to make such
a use (or rather abuse] of this gift as we have been censuring, is
as if we were to take advantage of the readiness with which a
new-born babe swallows whatever is put into its mouth, to dose
it with ardent spirits, instead of wholesome food and necessary
medicine. The readiness with which children learn and re-
member words, is in truth a most important advantage if rightly
employed ; viz. if applied to the acquiring that mass of what
may be called arbitrary knowledge of insidated facts, which can
only be learned by rote, and which is necessary in after life ;
when the acquisition of it would both be more troublesome,
and would encroach on time that might otherwise be better em-
ployed. Chronology, names of countries, weights and measures.

Essay 1.] Annotations.

and indeed all the words of any language
tion. If a child had even ten times the
the faculty in question, a judicious teachc
dance of useful employment for it, without i
could possibly be detrimental to his future
gious, or intellectual/

One very useful precept for students, is i
puzzling at any difficulty ; but to lay the b<
aside, and return to it some hours after,
having turned the attention to something
person will weary his mind for several ho
(which might have been spared) to make out i
next day, when he returns to the subject
easy.

The like takes place in the effort to re(
You may fatigue yourself in vain for houi
you turn to something else (which you m
done at once) the name will, as it were, flasl
out an effort.

There is something analogous to this, in
scent of dogs. When a wounded bird, for
lost in the thicket, and the dogs fail, after sc
it, a skilful sportsman always draws them ofi
elsewhere for an hour, and then brings them
to try afresh ; and they will often, then^ find 1
though, if they had been hunting for it all it
have failed.

It seems as if the dog— and the mind — lia\
of wrong track, continued in the same erroi
pletcly away elsewhere.

Always trusty therefore, for the overeom
not, to long coniituied study after you have o
but to reptfuted trials, at intervals.

It may be here observed that the student
art, should not only distinctly understand all
guage, and all the rules of the art, but al
heart, so that they may be remembered ai
alphabet, and employed constantly and with
Other wisCj technical language will pro'

L] Annotations.

or ill^ in the mind of every man^ every
reckoned either less useful^ or^ as a mere t
the mind (like chess^ and other games), less
ing^ than the examination of the wings of b

It is a pity that Bacon did not more full
in which different kinds of studies act on thi
ercise of the reasoning faculty, pure mathema
exercise, because it consists of reamning a
encumber the student with any exercise of j
Trell always to begin with learning one thing
defer a combination of mental cxerciaea to a
then it is important to remember that mat
exercise the judgment i and consequently^ :
pursucdj may leave the student very ill q
reasouings.

* ' The definitionSj which are the principles
are very few^ and the axioms still fewer \ and
most part J laid down and placed before the stm
the introduction of a new Definition or Axic
paratively rare occurrence, at wide inter valSj i
statement ; besides which, there is no room for
either. On the other hand, in all reasonii
matters of fact, we introduce, almost at ever
fresh propositions (to a very great number), wl:
elicited in the course of our reasoningj but are t
vir,, facts, and laws of nature, which are here
our reasoning, and maxims^ or ' elements of 1
Bwer to the axioms in mathematics. Ifj at
treatise, for example, on chemistry, on agrieul
economy, &c,, the author should make^ as ii
formal statement of all the propositions he in
as granted, throughout the whole work, both 1
would be astonished at the number ; and, of t
be only probable, and there would be much n
to the degree of probability, and for judgmei]
that degree.

' Moreover, mathematical axioms are alwa
cisely in the same simple form : e.g.^ the axiom

^ Eltmenti of Logic.

496 Of Studies. [Essay 1.

equal to the same arc equal to one another/ is cited, whenever
there is need, in those very words ; whereas the maxims era-
ployed in the other class of subjects j admit of, and require,
con ti una! modifications in the applicatiou of them. E.^,, ^ the
stability of the laws of naturej' which is our constant assump-
tion in inquiries relating to natural philosophy, appears in mauy
different shapes, and in some of them does not possess the same
complete certainty as in others ; e.g., when^ from liaving always
observed a certain sheep ruminating, we infer, that this indi-
vidual sheep will continue to ruminate, we assume that ' the
pmperty which has hitherto belonged to this sheep will remain
unchanged f when we infer the same property of all sheep, we
assume that 'the property which belongs to this individual belongs
to the whole Species :' if, on comparing sheep with some other
kinds of horned animals,* and finding that all agree in ruminat-
ingj we infer that 'all homed animals ruminate,^ we assume
that ' the whole of a genus or class are likely to agree in any
point wherein many species of that genus agree :' or in other
words, 'that if one of two properties^ &c., has often been found
accompanied by another, and never without it, the former will
Ijc universally accompanied by the latter,' Now all these are
merely different forms of the maxim, that ' nature is uniform
in her operations •/ which, it is evident, varies in expression in
almost every different case where it is applied, and the apphca-
tion of which admits of every degree of evidence, from perfect
moral certainty, to mere conjecture.

' The same may be said of an infinite number of principles
and maxims appropriated to, and employed in, each particular
branch of study* Hence, all such reasonings are, in comparison
of mathematics, very complex; requiring so much more than
that does, beyond the process of merely deducing the conclusion
logically from the premises : so that it is no wonder that the
longest mathematical demonstration should be so much more
easily constructed and understood, than a much shorter train
of just reasoning concerning real facts. The former has been
aptly compared to a long and steep, but even and regular, flight
of steps, which tries the breath, and tlie strength, and the per-

* Viz., baviiig honis on the gkuIL Wliat are called the homs of the rhinooepo*
ni quite clilf^rcut in origin, and io jstractnrv^ as vreU hm m tutuatioUj froni wkot tre
pruperlj oUled boras*

Essay L] Annotations.

severance only ; while the latter resembles
and uneven, ascent up a precipice, which i
agile limbs, and a firm step ; and in whic
now on this side, now on that — ever considi
whether this or that projection will afford r
whether some loose stone may not slide fro
are probably as many steps of pure reaso
longer of Euclid^s demonstrations, as in thi
mentative treatise on some other subject, o
considerable volume.

' It may be observed here that matheiu
it calls for no exercise of judgment respect
the best kind of introductory exercise; and i
is apt, when too exclusively pursued, to m
moral-reasoners.

' As for those ethical and legal reasoning
mentioned as in some respects resembhng tli
(viz. such as keep clear of all assertions res
have this difference ; that not only men ar(
agreed respecting the maxims and principles
but the meaning also of each term cannot i
for ever, fixed by an arbitrary definition ; ;
great part of our labour consists in distinguis i
various senses in which men employ each 1 :
which is the most proper, — ^and taking care tc :
them together.

' It may be worth while to add in this plat (
disposition, — ^a hearty desire to judge fairly, 1 1
— are evidently necessary with a view to gii i
reasoning-powers, in subjects where we are li:
interests or feelings, so, a fallacious pervers
finds a place in the minds of some persons
speak disparagingly of all exercise of the re
moral and religious subjects; declaiming on ;
mere intellectual power for the attainment
matters, — on the necessity of appealing to the:
to the head, &c., and then leading their reai:
to the conclusion that the less we reason on
safer we are.

' But the proper office of candour is to pre}

K

498 Of Studies. [Essay 1.

for the refection of all evidence^ but for the right reception of
evidence ; — ^not^ to be a substitute for reasons^ but to enable us
fairly to weigh the reasons on both sides. Such persons as I
am fdluding to are in fact saying that since just weights alone,
without a just balance^ will atail nothing, therefore we have
only to take care of the scales^ and let the w^hts take care of
themselves.

* This kind of tone ii^ of cdurse most especially to be found
in such writers as consider it expedient to inculcate on
the mass of mankind what — ^there is reason to suspect —
they do not themselves fully believe, and which • they appre-
hend is the more likely to be rejected the more it is
investigated.^

A curious an^ote (which T had heard, in substance^ some
years before) was told me by the late Sir Alexander Johnstone*
When he was acting as temporary governor of Ceylon (soon
after its cession), he sat once as judge in a trial of a prisoner
for a robbery and murder ; and the evidence seemed to him so
conclusive, that he was about to charge the jury (who were
native Cingalese) to find a 'verdict of guilty. But one of the
jurors asked and obtained permission to examine the witnesses
himself. He had them brought in one by one, and cross-
examined them so ably as to elicit the fact that they were
themselves the perpetrators of the drime, which they afterwards
had conspired to impute to the prisoner. And they were
accordingly put on their trial and convicted. .

Sir A. J. was greatly struck by the intelligence displayed by
this juror; the more, as he was only a small farmer, who was
not known to have had any remarkable advantages of education.
He sent for him, and after commending the wonderful sagacity
he had shown, inquired eagerly what his studies had been. The
man replied that he had never read but one book, the only oue
he possessed, which had long been ia his family, and which he
delighted to study in his leisure-hours. This book he was pre-
vailed on to show to Sir A. J., who put it into the hands of
one who knew the Cingalese language. It turned out to be a
translation into that language of a large portion of Aristotle's
Organon. It appears that the Portuguese^ when they first
settled in Ceylon and other parts of the East^ translated into the

Essay 1.] Annotations.

native languageiB fleveral of the works t
European Universities ; among which were)
of Aristotle.

The Cingalese in question said that if hii
been in any d^ee coltiyated and improvedj
he owed it.

It is likely^ however (as was observed i
Bishop Copleston)^ that any other book^ oc
amount of close reasoning and accurate del
answered the same purpose in sharpening t
Cingalese.

It is verjr important to warn all reader
likely to be exercised in the formation of tl
recthff and by works not professedly argui
Poems and Tales. Fletcher of Sahoun said^
one have the making of the laws of a country
the making of their ballads.

An observation in the Lectures on Politico
cause which has contributed to foster an err
the superior Hioral purity of poor and half-<
is equflJly applicable to a multitude of othei
mibjects. ' One powerful^ but little suspectec
be^ an early fisuniliarity with poetical descriptic
phisticated, rustic life^ in remote, sequestered, i
districts; — of the manly virtue and practice
simple forefathers^ before the refinements oi
introduced ; — of the adventurous wildness^ so
imagination^ of savage or pastoral life^ in the
forests^ k)fty mountains^ and all the grand »
vated naturo. Such subjects and scenes
adapted for poets than thronged cities^ wc
and iron-foundries. And poets^ whose objei
course keep out of sight all the odious or <
stances pertaining to the life of the savage
clown, and dwell exclusively on all the amia
parts of that simplicity of character which tl
Early associations are thus formed^ whose inf
stronger and the more lasting, from the
that they are formed unconsciously , and do no

K K

500 Of Studies. [Essay L

of propositions demanding a deliberate assent. Poetry does
not profess to aim at conviction ; but it often leaves impressions
which affect the reasoning and the judgment. And a false
impression is perhaps often er conveyed in other ways than by
sophistical argument ; becaiise that rouses the mind to exert its
powersj and to assume, as it were, a reasoning mood/ ^

The influence exercised by such works is overlooked by those
who suppOBc that a child's character, moral and intellectual, is
fonned by those books only which are put into his hands with
that dtmgn. As hardly anything can accidentally touch the
soft clay without stamping its mark on it, so, hardly any reading
can interest a child without contributing in some degree, though
the book itself be afterwards totally forgotten j to form the cha-
racter I and the parents, therefore, who, merely requiring from
him a certain course of study ^ pay little or no attention to story-
books, are educating him they know not how.

And here, I would observ^e, that, in books designed for
children, there are two extremes that should be avoided. The
one, a reference to religious principles in connexion with
matters too trifling and uncUgnificd ; arising firom a well-inten-
tioned zeal, causing a forge tfuln ess of the maxim whose
notorious truth has made it proverbial, * Too much familiarity
breeds contempt/ And the other is the contrary^ and still more
prevailing, extremCj arising from a desire to preserve a due
reverence for religion, at the expense of its useful application in
conduct* But a line may be drawn whi«b will keep clear of
both extremes. We should not exclude the association of
things sacred with whatever are to ourselves trifling matters,
(for ^ these little things are great ^ to children), but, with what-
ever is viewed by thetn as trifling. Everything is great or
small in reference to the parties concerned. The private
concerns of any obscure individual are very insignificant to the
world at large, but they are of great importance to himself.
And all worldly aflSiirs must be small in the sight of the Most
High ; but irreverent familiarity is engendered in the mind of

^ In an orticle in n Keview I have ewd. mention nmile of a person wlio dii*
covert the fnlsity of a certain doctrine {wbicb, by tb© way, is ncvertbeleea a ttna
one, that of Mai thus), imHjycfweljf, This tind of initinct, Le, the habit of furro-
ing opinions at the suggestion rathar of fcding thao of reu«on, h very common.

JOi Of Studies. [Essay L

as the only true and sure oae. ^ Ib it not because there is no
God in Israel, that ye have sent to inquire of B&ahebub^ the
God of Ekron ?' This vital defect in such works should be
constantly pointed out to the young reader ; and he should be
warned that^ to realize the picture of nohlC;, disinterested,
thorough -going virtuej presented in such and such an instance,
it is absolutely necessary to resort to those principles whichj in
these fictiouSj are unnoticed. He should, in short, be reminded
that all these * things that are lovely and of good report/ which
have been placed before him, are the genuine fruits of the Holy
liand ; though the spies who have brought them bring also an
evil report of that land^ and would persuade ua to remain waiL<-
dering in the wilderness.

The student of history, also, should be on his guard against
the indirect influence likely to be exercis^ on his opinions.
''An injudicious reader of history is liable to be misled by
the circumstance^ that historians and travellers occupy them-
selves principally (aa ia natural} with the relation of whatever ig
remarkable, and different from what commonly take^ place in
their own time or country* They do not dwell on the ordinary
transactions of human life (which are precisely what furnish the
data on which political economy proceeds), but on everything
that appears an exception to general rules, and in any way such
as could not hare been anticipated. The sort of informatioa
which the political economist wants is introduced, for the tnoat
partj only incidentally and obUquely; and is to be collected^
imperfectly, from scattered allusions. So that if you will give
a rapid glance, for instance, at the history of these islands from
the time of the Norman conquest to the present day, you will
find that the differences betweeo the two states of the country,
in most of the points with which our acience is conversant, are
but very imperfectly accounted for 'in the main outline of the
narrative,

^ If it were possible that we could have a fiill report of the
common business and common oonversation; in the markets^
the shopsj and the wharfs of Athens and Pirseus, for a single
dayj it would probably throw more light on the state of things

* Lfctures *n PgUtkol EcomtB^,

Essay 1.] Annotations.

in Greece at that time^ in all that politi|
concerned with, than all tha histories 1
together.

' There is a danger, therefore, that the i
who proceeds in the manner I have descri
evea draim off from the class of &cts which
in question, most important to be attended i

'For, it should be observed that, in all
danger to be guarded against, which Bac
acuteness, has pointed out : that most men
make or seek for, some application of wh
learnings as not uofrequently to apply it im]
Tourings lest their knowledge should lie by
it to bear on some question to which it
Horace's painter, who, being skilful in drai
for introducing one into the picture of a <
complains of this tendency among the logic!
sidans of his day, who introduced an absi
application of the studies in which they hat
into natural philosophy: 'Artis saspe inept
nullus/ But the same dang^ besets those c
other study likewise, that may firom time to t
a large share of each man's attention. He i
for a solution of every question on every subji
to his own favourite science or branch of ]
schoolboy when first entrusted with a knife,
its edge on everything that comes in his way.

Etymology — ^which may be reckoned a bra
study — ^is very liable to this kind of abui
curious and interesting, and may be so appl
useful. It may supply a useful hint — a slig
as to the sense of some word. But etymolog
into the error of pretending to decide on the
a word, and even the nature of the thing d
the Boot to which they have traced it; f
' true sense ' of a word must be, that which t
Thus, Home Tooke, having traced the word
verb to ' trow' — i. e, believe, infers that thei
thing as absolute ' truth,' independent of i
another writer has argued that the word I

1.] Annotations,

kind of bias alluded to^ was^ a decision of ;
acute Lord Chancellor^ that the Court oug
injunction against the piracy of a book^ if
most remote suspicion that it might be c
dency ; and that the piratical Publisher sh<
accordingly was soon after done) himself to
to an injunction.

Now any man of plain good sense, and h<
legal subtleties, would have decided that a
person) should be presumed innocent, in the t
of guilt ; and that no one should be allowei
wrong-doing in his own defence.

There is a remarkable instance of perve
the interpretation which was once put on on
the Irish Education-Board. Among the boo
cation sanctioned by the imanimous approvi
Commissioners, were some extracts firom tl
some other books of a religious character, but
controversial. It was provided, however, tha
parents might object, should be obliged to
And though it scarcely ever did happen that t
for the application of that rule, this provisio
excessive — scmple, gave complete confidence
for many years. But when some new Coi
into office, with different views, they discovei
(which had been worded not very guwledly, or
of special-pleading subtleties) might be brougl
quite imthought of. It might be interpreted
any one child (in a school of, perhaps, hum
these books, they were to be altc^ether wi
general instruction of all the rest I And the
will bear that meaning, if you lay aside all r
and for justice, and the known design of th<
rule, and the constant practice of many ye:
expectations of the Public. The main objec
the gratification of a certain Party. But some
tion also was probably felt, at the ingenuity
interpretation of a rule, so wide from its d(
who was examined as to this matter before
Committee, remarked to them that hardly ai

Essay I.] Annotations.

Again, any man of plain good sense W(
ceiye, (at least when his attention is caU<
the Apostle Paul (i Cor. i.) is dwelling
humanly-speaking, pow^less, instruments
the Grospel : — ^ the weak things of the ^
Most High to confound the strong;^ tfa
were the superhuman power which alone
them to succeed : and that the ' calling/
qpeaks of, must mean those thus chosen b|
to call eUsdples. Bat some learned men,
ingenuity, have maintained that by the we
whom Paul is speaking, he meant the eon
if he could have been so silly as to bring i
divine power, that the Gk)6pel was receive!
the lowest and most ignorant 1 But this,
in order to rouse the emulation of the lef
being just what would hare excited their i

As for the supposed miracle of walking
is explained to have been merely wading i
the lake 1 And the multitudes who were fe
were supplied, it seems, by some of their on
brought with them great plenty of provision
by the example of Jesus and his Apostl<
neighbours I

To represent tiie whole of the Scripture-i
of mere fabrications, is a position which, un
degree less absurd than such theories.

Ingenious explainers of Uiis kind seem ti
earliest days of the Church. Such, no dou
tioned by the Apostle Paul as teaching thai
was past already ;' and to whom he probab
XV. For^ the expression of *the Besurrec
implies that they did not avowedly deny th<
christian teacha», but explained them as i
Parable ; representing 4he ' resurrection ' a
term, to denote, perhaps, the raising up of i
ranee to knowledge, or from vice to virtue
probably the forerunners and first leaders
read of, who taught (as the Mahometans do
Lord did not neally suffer death and rise a^

Essay 1.] Annotation».

of political economy. Undoubtedly he luu
if he is careful to keep in view the true prin<
but otherwise he may even labour imder
forgetting that (as I just now observed) the
which are made most prominent^ and occup
the works of historians and travellers, are i
every-day life, with which political economji
is in the same way that an accurate nUli
district, or a series of sketches acoompanyinj
through it^ may even serve to mislead one i
knowledge of its agricultural condition, if h
mind the different objects which different k
in view,

^Geologists, when commissioning their
them from any foreign couutry such specim
an idea of its geological character, are accust
against sending over collections of curumiiei
spars, stalactites, &c., which are accounted
curious, from being rarities, and which consi
correct notion of its general features. ^
specimens of the commonest strata, — the sto:
roads are mended, and the houses built, &c.
ments of these, which in that country an
rubbish, they sometimes, with much satisfac
adhering to the specimens sent them as curi i
tuting^ for their object, the most important i
tion. Histories are in general, to the politic
such collections are to the geologist. The < \
common, and what are considered insignificaii :
to him^ the most valuable information.

' An injudicious study of history, then, m i
hindrance instead of a help to the forming
political economy. For not only are many o I
which are^ in the historian^s view, the most i
are the least important to the political ecom
great proportion of them consists of what )i
greatest impediments to the progress of a socic
wars^ revolutions, and disturbances of every ki
consequence of these^ but in spite of them,
made the progress which in fact it has man

510 Of Studies. s^ssay 1.

taking such a stmrejr as history furnishes of the ooorae of
events, for instance^ for the last eight hundred years (the period
I just now alluded to)^ not only do we find Httle mention of
the causes which have so greatly increased national wealth
during that period^ but what we do chiefly read of is^ the coun^
ieractmg causes ; especially the wars whidi have been raging
from time to time, to the destruction of ci^itid, and the hin-
drance of improvement. Now, if a ship had performed a voyage
of eight hundred leagues, and the register of it contained an
account chiefly of the contrary winds and currents, and made
little mention of favourable gales, we might well be at a loss to
understand how she reached her destination ; and might even
be led into the mistake of supposing that the contrary winds
had forwarded her in her course. Yet such is history V

In reference to the study of history, I have elsewhere re-
marked upon the importance, among the intellectual qualifica*
tions for such a study, of a vivid imagination, — a feusulty which^
consequently, a skilM narrator must himself possess, and to
which he must be able to famish excitement in others. Some
may, perhaps, be startled at this remark, who have been accus-
tomed to consider imagination as having no other office than to
feigifi and to falsify. Every fieunilty is liable to abuse and mis-
direction, and imagination among the rest ; but it is a mistake
to suppose that it necessarily tends to pervert the truth of
history, and to mislead the judgment. On the contraiy, our
view of any transaction, especially one that is remote in time
or place, wiU necessarily be imperfect, generally incorrect,
unless it embrace something more than the bare outline of the
occurrences, — ^unless we have before the mind a livdiy idea of
the scenes in which the events took place, the habits of thought
and of feeling of the actors, and all the circumstances connected
with the transaction ; unless, in short, we can in a considerable
degree transport ourselves out of out own Age, and country^
and persons, and imagine ourselves the agents or spectators.
It is firom consideration of all these circumstances that we are
enabled to form a right judgment as to the &cts which history
records, and to derive instruction from it. What we ima^ne
may indeed be merely imaginary^ that is, unreal ; but it may
again be what actually does or did exist. To say that imagi-
nation, if not regulated by sound judgment and sufficient

Essay 1.] Annotations.

knowledge^ may chance to convey to ns
past events, is only to say that Man is fallS
impressions are even much the more likely 1
those whose imagination is feeble or unci
apt to imagine the things, persons, times, c
they read of, as much less different from wl
them than is really the case.

The practical importance of such an exei
to a full^ and clear, and consequently prd
transactions related in history, can hardly
In respect of the very earliest of all human
matter of common remark how prone many
mingled wonder, contempt^ and indignation
of our first Parents ; as if they were not a
human race ; as if any of us would not, if 1
in precisely the same circumstances, have
The Corinthians, probably, had perused with
wonder, the history of the backslidings of t
needed that Paul should remind them, that
written for their example and admonition. .
every portion of history they read, have need <
warning, to endeavour to fancy themselves
read of, that they may recognise in the accoi
the portraiture of our own. From not puttin
place g£ the persons living in past times, s
into all their feelings, we are apt to forget ho
things might appear, which we know did nol
to regard as perfectly chimerical, expectation
were not realizedj hut which ^ had we lived i
should doubtless have entertained ; and to i]
was no danger of those evils which were, in ft
are apt also to make too little fdlowances f
associations of ideas^ which no longer exist
same form among ourselves^ but whichj perhi
at variance with right reason than others wit
are infected.

'Some books are to be tasted.

For various reasons it will often be nee
some books which will be, to the moat diacei

Essay I.] Annotations.

the Jews with haying in some instances
God of none eflFect by their Tradition/
Jeschu [Greneration of Jesus] is the accoui
lieving Jews, of our Saviour's history,
much blasphemy and nonsense^ a most im
of what is recorded by our Evangelists^
Jesus admitted the fact of his miracles^ the
resurrection. For^ if the facts had been o
is inconceivable that a subsequent genen
should have admitted the miracles, and re
thesis of Magic. (3.) The Spurious Gospei
lation is given in Jones's Canon of the Ni
striking and edifying contrast to our sacred
same may be said of The Koran; and t
imposture. The Book of Mormon. It
to observe the absurdities men fall into wl
selves to frame a sham-revelation.

' Studies serve for delight, for ornament, 1

We should, then, cultivate, not only the
minds, but the pleasure-grounds also. Ever
study, however worthless they may be, wher
the service of God, — ^however debased and
voted to the service of sin, — ^become ennob
when directed, by one whose constraining mc
Christ, towards a good object. Let not t
think ^ scorn of the pleasant land.' That ]
ancient and modem literature— of philosoph;
departments — of the arts of reasoning and ]
part of it may be cultivated with advantag
Canaan when bestowed upon God's peculiar ]
not commanded to let it lie waste, as incura
abominations of its first inhabitants ; but 1
dwell in it, living in obedience to the divine 1;
its choicest fruits to the Lord their God.

^ Selections from the Misna, with a translation and ve
foand in a publication by Dr. Wotton.

51 6 Of Faction, [Essay li.

ground of preference of hereditary to elective sovereignty. For
when a cliief— whether called kingt emperor^ president^ or by
irhateyer name — is elected (whether for life, or for a term of
years) J he can hardly avoid being the liead of a party, ' He
who is elected will be likely to feel aversion towards those who
have voted against him ; who may bcj perhaps^ nearly half of
his subjects* And they again will be likely to regard him as
an eneniy^ instead of feeling: loyalty to him as their prince.

' And those again who have voted /or him, will consider him
as being under an obligation to them, and expect him to show
them more favour than to the rest of his subjects ; so that be
will Idg rather the head of a party than the king of a people,

' TheUj toOj when the throne is likely to become vacant —
that isj when the king is old, or is attacked with any serious
illnesSj — what secret canvassing and disturbance of men^s minds
will take place. The king himself will most likely wish that
his son, or some other near relative or friend^ should suc-
ceed him, and he will employ all his patronage with a view to
such an election ; appointing to public offices^ not the fittest
men, but those whom he can reckon on as voters. And
others will be exerting themselves to form a party against him ;
BO that the country will be hardly ever tranquil, and very
Beidom well-governed.

' If, indeed, men were very different from what they are, there
might be superior advantages in an elective royalty ; but in
the aetual state of things^ the disadvantages will in general
greatly outweigh the benefits.

' Accordingly most nations have seen the advantage of
hereditary royalty, notwithstanding the defects of such a con*
Btitution/^

' Kings had need beware how they side themselves,'

The observation, that kings wlio make themselves members
of a party, * raise an obligation paramount to an obligation of
sovereignty* — that is, are likely to substitute party-spirit for
public-spirit, — is one which applies in a great degree to all par-
tizans, and to all parties, whether poHtical or ecclesiasticul.

LottBon I,, On the British ConHUaiionj pp. 15, 16*

51 8 0/ Faction. [Essay li.

* The even carriage between two factiOTis proceedeth not ahmys
of modtraiiottf but of a trueness to a man^s self with end to
make use of both, ^

And thorough -going partizans usually attribute this to evertf
one who keeps aloof from Party ; or else they suspect him of
seeking to set up some new party ^ in which he may be a leader ;
or they regard him as a whimsical Beingj who differs in opinion
from everybody.

A zealous anti-CaWnist at Oxford denounced as Calvin istic
a series of Discourses delivered there some years agOj because
they were not Arminian : and when those same Discourses were
afterwards published, a reviewer spoke of the author as Arminian
because he was not a Calvinist ; ^ since every ouej' he saidj ^ must
he supposed to be either the one or the other/

A large portion of mankind enrol themselves in the ranks of
a party, to be saved the trouble of examining for themselves
each of a great number of particular points. They like to
have a ready-made set of opinions j like a lot of goods at an
auction. Aud they conclude that others must do the like.
Moreover, Man is a classifying animaL It is a convenience to
he able to refer each individual to a Class, whose name describes
him, instead of going through all the particulars of his opinions.
And one who cannot be so described,~thougli perhaps he does
not differ more from his neighboiurs than many of them do
from each other — is an inconvenient individual ; — a kind of odd
volume on a library. table, for which we cannot find a place on
auy of the shelves. He is one who refuses to say ' I am of
Paid, or I, of Apollos, or I, of Cephas, or, of Luther, or
Calvin, or Armiuius/ And those, therefore, who prefer con-
venience to accuracy, will be likely to place him in the ranks
of some Party, according to their fancy; or else they will
denounce him as ^eccentric,' and affecting 'singularity/

From one or other of the above-mentioned causes, he is likely
to be regarded with at least as much hostility by the naost
zealous party-men, as those of an opposite party. And accsord-
ingly, Thuoydidcs, iu describing the party-contests at Corcyra
and other Greek States, remarks that ^ those who held a middle
course were destroyed by both parties.'

And it is remarkable that party-spirit tends so mucli to

Essay li.] Annotation.

lower the moral standard^ that it makes
abhorrence what is wrongs not only on tb
on the opposite. Their feelings towards
party are very much those of a soldier to
the hostile army. He fires at them for t
expects that they should fire at him. If
if they out-manoeuvre him^ he admires 1
skill. He does not think the worse <
plundering^ ravaging^ and slaughterings ju
their place^ and as he does, on the opposite
most thorough-going partizans attribute i
or is supposed to be (often without any gc
ber of the opposite party^ such conduct as i
able^ without thinking at all the worse of h:
what they would do in his place : and thoi
for being of the opposite party, they dislike

And as there is often a strong resem
between the soldiers of two hostile armies^ e
perhaps slight circumstance has enrolled ii
site parties^ will often be found to be ver
most essential points of personal character,
mountain-streams near the summit of tl
ridges which divide Europe, will sometimes
small fragment of rock^ which sends the wal
the Atlantic^ and of the other into the Med

And not only are the feelings of zealous
to one of moderate views^ who keeps clear o
but their moral-Judgment also — such as it
If, for instance^ he has been raised to some
solicitation, and unconditionally^ and afteni
through thick and thin, with the Party o1
appointed him, against his own judgment
regard for justice and the public good,
denounced as an ungrateful traitor. And ii
enlargement of popular rights, and also some
tions, he will be reproached with 'inconsii
Satyr, in the Fable, rebukes the inoonsistei
whose breath warmed his fingers, and coolec

The efiects of party-spirit in lowering the

ESSAY LIL OF CEREM
RESPECTS.^

HE that is only real had need have e»
virtue^ as the stone had need to be i
foil ; but if a man mark it well^ it is in
tion of men as it is in gettings and gain
true, ' That light gains make heavy pursa
thick, whereas great come but now and t]
small matters win great commendation, 1
tinually in use and in note, whereas the
virtue cometh but on festivals. Therefon
a man's reputation, and is (as Queen le
petual letters commendatory, to have go
them, it almost sufficeth not to despise
man observe them in others, and let him
rest ; for if he labour too much to express
their grace, which is to be natural and unf
behaviour is like a verse, wherein every
How can a man comprehend great matte
mind too much to small observations ?*
at all, is to teach others not to use them a
respect to himself; especially they are i
strangers and formal natures ; but the dw(
exalting them above the moon, is not oi
diminish the faith and credit of him that s
there is a kind of conveying of efiTectual anc
amongst compliments, which is of singular
upon it. Amongst a man's peers a man &
liarity, and therefore it is good a little to

^ Orcmomei and naapecU. Com^enlioaal forms <
eiiqueif ^.

'The "^uce to jntukt la ceremony ;
M ing were buro withotit it/ — Sh
* What art \kM^ ^, tbou idle cerefwuiy i

Art thou might else but pbicc, di^ec lui

* The Dtilce's curria^f] to th« gautlemcn was of fill r J

• ObtjeTVdtionfl. Oh^er^aAcet. * llii frceU tho chrii
nflj obsert>aiio3^'—miite^

^ ImjirUiUng. Impreuiee,

52^

Of Ceremonies and Respects.

[Essay Iii.

a man's inferiors one shall be sure of re\"erence, and therefore
it it good a little to be fajniliar* He that is too much in any
thing, so that he giveth another occasion of satiety, maketh bim-
eelf cheap. To apply one's self to others is good, eo it be with
demonstration, that a man doth it upon^ regard and not npon
facility. It is a good precept generally in Bccouding another,
yet to add somewhat of one's own ; as if yon will grant his
opinion, let it be with some distinction ; if you will follow his
motion J let it be with condition j if yon allow his counsel, let it
be with alle^ng farther reason. Men had nee^i beware how
they be too perfect in compliments ; for be they never so suflS-
cient* otherwise, their enviers will be sure to give them that
attributCj to the disadvantage of their greater virtues. It is loss
also in business to be too full of respects, or to be too curious ^
in observing times and opportunities, Solomon saithj ' He that
considereth the wind shall not sow, and he that looketh to the
clouds shall not reap,'^ A wise man will make more opportu-
nities than he finds. Men's behaviour should be like their
apparel, not too strait or point device/ hut free for exercise or
motion.

AXTITHETA ON CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS,

CONT^ftA-
'Qiiid defornaius, {|uani Bcenam m

vltRTU trantferre ?

' What can be more dUffvHinff 'Vjji

Iq trarigfer the tta^js into ct^mmon UJ^^

Teo.
'SI et in verbiif vnlgo laremua,
gnidiu in habttu, et gotiiu 'i

* ^ Hw accfowmoeittsfcf Qur^tlt^ts to the
Kiulgnr in o\tr ^eecA, w% not aUo i»
owr deporiinent 7'

' Virtui et pnidcntia eino ptinctta,
veliat perGgTiiT3> lingufl! sunt ; nttm vulgo
nou hitclligiintur.

* Virtue and wisdom tpilhont forma of
poliietiexit are strange lan^ttft^e^t fir
the^ are not ordimrif^ und^iftoodJ

' Pimcti tmnslatio sont virt'otia in
liug^nun Tflmncnlatn.

' Forms are the (ransl^iion of mHve
into the tfvl^ar ionfftte/

* Magifl placoiit (^rnssiitiB bu«5P| ^
calaTcistruttt coma, nutiui qcruasati et
oUamiijtrftti more^,

' Moused che&kt and mtrled hair arf
le^a o^'ensive than routed and citfi™
manners.-

^ Upon. In cons^qa^nce of. See pagt? 4^7*

' Suffioieut. Able. ' V^'bo is suffimsnk for these things P' — 2 Cor. ii, f6*

* Carious, Exact i precise. * Both theau aenses ^mbraee their olgeets witli *
more eurious discrimination.* — Holder^ * SccUs, iL 4.

* Point device. Extremely exact (with the nicety and precision of a sfcltc^
[French pointy devised or miide with the notdle). ' EFerjthing aboat yon sljt'iJu
(lemonstnite a carele^ desolation; but yon ure rathur point de rtse in jonr acaJU*
trcmentBir as loving yonrself, thim the lover of another.* — Shake^pere.

Essay lii.] Annotatio9i8.

ANNOTATIONS

* He that is only real had need have eA

virttie/

To attach as much importance (which
more, to refined and graceful manners, thi
qualities ; — ^to prefer, as it were, a Pumj
because it has a smoother coat — does, cert
turn, and a lack of wisdom. But there i
lessly incurring the ill will or contempt oi
the frivolous and unwise.

' Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach .

again.

OrooA manners are a part of good moral
too much neglected, true politeness suflFers
are obliged to bring some back ; or we fii
The same holds good in a higher departi
not formed to live without ceremony an(
spiritual grace' is very apt to be lost w
visible sign.' Many are continually setting
of ceremonies from this or that, and often
they have so multiplied as to grow burd
they have carried this too far, they have 1
back some ceremonies. Upon the whole, i
ceremony and form of every kind derive th(
imperfection. If we were perfectly spiritu
Grod without any form at all, without ever
we are not, it is a folly to say, ^ One may
one day as another, in one place, or postui
answer, angels may ; Man cannot. Agair
fectly benevolent, good-tempered, attentive
others, &c., we might dispense with all
breeding ; as it is, we cannot ; we are not
fight without discipline. Selfishness will
we once let the barriers be broken down.

5^4 Of Ceremonies and Respects, [Essay lii,

is evident from what lias been said^ that the higher our natum
is carried, Hie less farm we need.

But though we may deservedly congratulate aoeiety on being
able to dispense with this or that ceremonyj do not let us be in
a hurry to do so, till we are sure we can do without it. It is
taking away crutches, to cure the gout. The opposite extreme
of substituting the external form for the thing signifiedj is not
more dangerous or more common than the neglect of that form.
It is all very well to say, ^ There is no use in bidding good-
morrow or good-ixight, to those who know I wish it ; of seudiag
one*s love, in a letter, to those who do not doubt it/ 8rc. AU
this sounds very well in theory, but it will not do for practice.
Scarce any friendshipj or any politeness, is so strong as to be
able to subsist without any external supports of this kind ; and
it is even better to have too much form than too little.

It is worth observing, in reference to conventional forms, that
the ^ vernacular tonguej^ in which the forms of ci\dlity are ex-
pressed, differs in different times and places. For instance, in
Spain it is a common form of civility to ask a man to dinner,
and for the other to reply, ' Sure you would not think of such
a thing.' To accept a first or second invitation would he as
great a blunder aa if^ among us, any one who signed himself
' your obedient servant ' should be taken literally, and desired
to perform some menial office. If a Spanish gentleman really
means to ask you to dinner, he repeats the invitation a third
time -J and then he is to be understood literally*

Serious errors may, of course, arise in opposite ways, by act
understanding aright what is and is not to be taken as a mere
comphmentary form.

ESSAY LIIL OF P

PRAISE is the reflection of virtue, bu
body, which giveth the reflection ; i
mon people, it is commonly false and ni
loweth vain persons than virtuous: fo
understand not many excellent virtues : t
praise from them, the middle virtues work
or admiration ; but of the highest virtuefl
perceiving' at all ; but shows, and ' speci
serve best with them. Certainly, fame
beareth up things light and swollen, and (
and solid ; but if persons of quality and j
it is (as the scripture saith) 'Nomen be
fragrantis;'^ it iilleth all round about, anc
for the odours of ointments are more c
flowers.

There be so mauy false points of pn
justly hold it in suspect.* Some praise
flattery ; and if it be an ordinary flatterer
common attributes, which may serve eve
cunning flatterer, he will follow the arch
man^s self, and wherein a man thinketh b
the flatterer will uphold him most : but i;
flatterer, look wherein a man is conscious
most defective, and is most out of countei
will the flatterer entitle him to, perforce.
Some praises come of good wishes and res
due in civility to kings and great [jersoiis, *
when by telling them what they a^fe, tb

^ Nauf ht. Worthl€is ; d^^icahU, See page 37t
' PerceWing^, Pcrceplion, ■ * h

^ * A good nuino is like & fmgi^Tit ointment/ — Ecct

' I havo a pam upon my foreliead her^,
Why that'i with watching ; 'twill owc^
* Snipcct. Stiipmon.
■ * To ijMtruct in pnusinf /

Essay liii.] Annotations.

oonfenintar ; sed^ laades ubiqae sunt lans est, mt

libertatU. rum sensus

• Honors are conferred differently * The lou

in different governments; hut praises praise; the

everywhere by popular suffrage.* of the high
• • • • •

' Ne mireris, si vnlgaii verins loquator,
quam honoratiores ; qaia etiam tutias
loquitur.

*It is no wonder that the vulgar some-
times speak more truly than those of
high place, because they speak more
safely.'

ANNOTATIONS.

' The common people understand not many e
lowest virtues draw praise from them,
work in them astonishment or admiratic
virtues they have no sense or perceiving

What a pregnant remark is this ! By
yirtues he means probably such as hospital
tude^ good-humoured courtesy^ and the like
the common run of mankind are accustome
which they admire, such as daring courage^
friends^ or to the cause or party one has es]
ranks in the next highest place. But the i
of all^ such as disinterested and devoted pul
going even-handed justice^ and disregard of
duty requires, of these he says the vulgar ha
And he might have gone further ; for it ol
large portion of mankind not only do not
highest qualities, but even censure and d<
may occur in which, though you may obtai
tion of a very few persons of the most refin
scntiracotB, yon must be prepared to find t]
mich BA are not altogether bad men) cont
natural, unkind ^ faith lesSj and not to b
deriding you aa eeecntric, crotchety, faiicif
puloua/

* SiM Lessons om Morals,

530 Of Praise. [Essay liii.

others. Of course it is not meant that a man is to think over-
highly of himself and ^ despise others/ He is not to think his
conduct better than others, only his capabilities. A man who
feels himself capable of generous and exalted conduct (I do not
mean, feels that he shall always act thu^, — ^for who dares pro-
mise himself this? — ^but who feels that it is not beyond his
conception, or unnatural to him), when he measures others by
his own standard, and is disappointed with them, will remember
that every man shall be judged ' according to that he hath, and
not according to that he hath not/ He will feel that more is
required of him, as being placed in a higher walk of duty; and
will thus be even the less satisfied with his conformity to so
lofty a standard.

This is a point which it is important to dwell on, because, be-
sides those who (as Bacon has elsewhere expressed it) are, intel-
lectually, 'soaring angels,^ and morally, 'crawling serpents/
there are also some whose moral superiority does not keep pace
with their intellectual ; who are indeed much better men than
the common run, but yet not so much above them in that, as
they are in intelligence. Such a person has been compared to
the Image in the King of Babylon's dream, with a head of gold,
and a breast of silver — a precious metal indeed, but inferior to
that of the head.

Although, then, a man of elevated character will be humbled
by his frequent failures, yet, as a fair and due sense of dignity,
which arises from a consciousness of superior station, is not
only right but needful, in a gentleman^ a peer, or a king, to
make them fill their stations gracefully; so it is here: thut
proper sense of hia own moral dignity is necessary for a grt-at
and generous disposition, if he would act up to his character.
The excess thereof will be checked by habits of true piety^ whicli
cannot but make him feel his own littleness in the strongest
manner ; and by continuaUy asking himself ' Who made thee to
differ from another ? or. What hast thou that thou didst uot
receive?^ he will be guarded against despising his inferioi^.
For, generous and ungenerous pride are not only different (as
all would allow), but, in most points, op}x>site : a man of the
former character makes allowances for others wldch he will not
make for himself; the latter, allowances for himself, which he
will not, for others : he is ready enough to think that this, and

Essay liii.] Annotations.

that, is not good enough for him ; but i
action not good enough for him^ and doe
riority as a privilege to act in a mann
would degrade him from it ; and, while d<
actions himself, as things of course, he '
allowance for others' deficiencies. He
calculating upon much gratitude; yet '
most generous ardour, himself. To tal
tages, or even to take all fair ones — to p
utmost — ^to press close to the limits of
anxiously consider whether he may be a
omit that, — ^he disdains, and would feel
the virtues of such a man as this, the vi
perception.

He that assaik error because it is em
persons, must be prepared for a storm froi
fanning him with the gentle breath of ]
had bwn dealing with the errors of the pa
They say with the rat to the mouse (in a 1
house much infested with rata and micc^ i
been brought] ^ —

'Sflld tbo othetj tbii cftt» if ahe mardtr
MuMt licedfl })& A very grent ilun^^
llut to feed upon mice can't be counter
1 myself like a uiouse for mj dhuier/

' It should be addetlj however, for the cr&

, i that, by a steady adherence to high principl
in the long run, though not speedily^ — to

^1 confidence as will give him an iofiuence 1

i1 men, of equal or of superior ability* '
^(, The following anecdote may be relied o

I law -amendment Bill was going through the

|j Ijord Althorp, who was then the minis

I House, was called on to answer a strong

I ^ raised to one of the clauses* He rose and
kj objection had occurred to himself; and th;

I I stated it to the framers of the Bill, who 1
jjj which completely met the objection, Bi
j»< um^^ he was sorry to say, he could not at H
^ though he assured the House that it was /

M

\

Essay liii.] Annotations.

of the minor details of every-day life,
packing up a trunks or setting a razor ; \
arrangements for a journey^ &c. And o
tions of the hero, he may have perhapi
perception.

With some minds^ again, mere familia
yerbial effect. The highest intellectual ai
cease to excite any great admiration in o
thoroughly used to them as to look for til
matter of course : while any imperfection
strikes him by its contrast, even as ' the I
on snow.^ It is at a meteor or a comet
awe and admiration, who feel little or \
spectacle of the sun, moon, and stars, w]
And to view all such objects with indiffei
by Horace — no very profound philosoj
wisdom.

The above is the description of the most
again, who are a little — and but a little — m
that most people impute to them, as a :
over-veneration for any eminent person th<
with, are not unlikely to think that they c
the opposite direction, and (as was observed
on Essays IV. and XXXVIII.) rush into t
And this dread of partiality, combined wit]
familiarity, sometimes leads to an undue i
is excellent.

In one of the comedies of the early ]
(many of which, though in bad taste, ht
and some wisdom) a man is represented coi
how desperately he is in love with a lady, i]
though he has noted them, and written a
he has dwelt on till quite ^miliar with
complained, he was more and more in loi
you a remedy,' says the other: 'marry 1
with her virtues, as you are with her faull
wiU be cured.'

Hence, perhaps, partly, it may be that
times applicable, of ' a prophet being withoi
country.'

Essay liii.] Annotations,

diflFerent firom the desire of their applause
of their displeasure or contempt. A mai
self in agreement with Aristotle, or Baeoi
Sec., whether reasonable or unreasonable,
do with their approbation of him. But ^
concur with some living friends, whom W(
dread to diiFer from, then, it is very diffic
this feeling is the presumption formed by o
of the correctness of their views, and ho
of their approbation and sympathy, and c
It is the desire of personal approbation, — I
ceming what is thought of ourselves, —
severely to check.

There is a distinction (alluded to above)
admiration and the love of commendation, t
ing. The tendency of the love of com met
make a man eweri him^lf ; of the love of
liirn^r/^ himself. The love of admiration
more than the love of commendation ; but
the latter is much more likely to spoil our
substitution of an inferior motive. And
against this, we must set ourselves rcsolut
cared neither for praise nor censure^ — for n
the sweet } and in time a man gets hardei
always be the case^ more or less^ through C
but persevere, and persevere from a righi
hardened, as the Canadians do to walking in s
at first a man is almost crippled with th
the pain and swelling of the feet ; but th
go on walking in them^ as if you felt nothi
few days you do feel nothing.

Much eloquence and ingenuity is often e;
I on the propriety of not being wholly indifil

formed of us— the impossibility of eradic!
approbation — and the folly of attempting
it, %Da, Now, this is very true ; the propeii
approval and escape censure, we are not cj
pate (that being, I conceive, impossible) i
paiuB are better bestowed in keeping und

53^ Of Praise. [Essay liii.

in vindicating it. It nQust be treated like the grass on a
lawji which you wish to keep in good order ; you neither
attempt, nor wish^ to destroy the grass ; but you mQw it down
from time to time, as close as you possibly caOj well trusting
that there will be quite enough left, and that it will be sure to
grow again*

One difficulty in acting upon this principle is, tliat it is often
even a duty to seek the good opinion of others, not as au
ultimate object for its own sake, but for the sake of influencing
them for their own benefit^ and that of others- ' Let your
light so shine before meu, that thej may see your good worksi
and glorify your Father which is in heaven.^ But we are to
watch and analyse the motives even of actions which we are
sure are in themselves right. ' Take heed that ye do not
your alms before men, to be seen of them.' And this ia
a kind of vigilance which human nature is always struggling
to escape. One class of men are satisfied so long as they
do what is justifiable ; — what may be done from a good motive,
and, when so donCj would be right, and which therefore may
be satisfactorily defended. Another class — the ascetic- — are
for cutting off everything that may be a snare* They have
heard of ' the deceitful ness of richea,' and so they vow poverty j
which is less trouble than watchinff their motives in gaining,
and in spending, money. And so on with the rest. But if
we would cut off all temptatioDSj we must cut off our heads at
once*

The praise of men is not the test of omr praiseworthiness ;
Bor is their censure } but either should set us upon testing our-
selves. .

It is to be observed that, in some cases, censure is equivalent
to high praise. If^ for instance, those who wish to perjjetuatc
some abuscj fiercely assail one who advocates needful reform, or
if revolutionists of any description decry some defender of law
and order, this affords a presumption that he is a formidable
champion. And the more pains they take to assure us that
his arguments deserve nothing but contempt, the more they
prove that they themselves do not feel any* Again, if any de*
tender of the truth of Christianity, who refuses to join any
Party in the Church, is thereupon denounced as unsound b/

Essay liii.]

Annotations,

zealous party-men^ tliis adds to the force (
indicating that the belief he professes is sin(
for the sake of popularity. And if^ again^
judicious advocates of a good cause are dt
of good^ so that it is needful for a wise an
repudiate all connexion with them^ no dii
will have so much weighty as their vehemei

54^

Of Vain Glory.

[Essay liv.

and corrections, even from your inferiors in ability — and never
overbearing or uncharitable towards those who differ fi^m you,
or ostentatious of superiority.

* All this will be a more laborious and difficult task than to
make fine speeches about your ignorance, and weakness, and
sinfulness ; but it is thus that true Humility is shown, and is
exercised, and cultivated/

Essay Iv.] Annotations.

only grasping at a shadow^ still they ai
at least believe to be real. They expec
or not — ^to have an actual consciousnesi
look forward to. The others are awan
have attained the prize of posthumous g
perception of it. They know that it is
ing at. Yet Hume had this solicitude
fame. ' Knowing/ says the Edinburgh
what is meant by a ruling passion, it is
on the die of literary fame. In one waj
it ; for his prescience of his growing repu
him. in his last illness. This was somet
singular. Delusion for delusion^ the mat
world are at least an improvement on
humous renown. Immortality on earth
light of immortality in a future state.*
what is to be said but ' vanity of vanities
who has no expectation of a fiiture state
plating annihilation with complacency, is
ing this, busied on his death-bed about !
— careful what men may be saying oi
histories, after he himself is sleeping in
things are forgotten !*

' . . . Which sort of men are common

' A sort of man^ that is not only mucl
monly admired, is a man who, along with
of cleverness and plausible fluency, is w
headed : — destitute of sound, clear, cauti
puzzle-hcadedncss conduces much to a v<
rise to a (short-lived) celebrity*

Such was the description once given o'
at that time more talked alx>ut than aim
the empire^ and whom many admired as
who had fully confuted the doctrines of M
digious diBCOveriea in political science*
took up the speaker very sharply ; obscrvii

* See OQ ^tlcle on DaTtd Hiitnt, ^dinlmt^h Eeipi^«f

55^ Q/* Judicature. [Essay Ivi.

prepare his way to a just sentence, as Gt)d nseth to prepare
his way by raising valleys and taking down hills : so when there
appeareth on either side a high hand, violent persecutionj cun-
ning advantagea taken, corabination, power, great counsel, then
is the nrtue of a judge seen to make inequality equal j that he
may plant his judgment as upon even ground. ' Qui fortitcr
emungitj elicit sanguinem/^ and where the wine-press is bard
wrougUtj^ it yields a harsh wiuCj tbat tastes of the grape-atone.
Judges must beware of hard ooustructions and struiued infe-
rences ; for there is no worse torture than the torture of laws ;
esjipecially in case of laws penal, they ought to have care, that
that which was meant for terror,^ be not turned into rigour :
and that they bring not upon people that shower whereof the
Scripture spcaketh, ^ Pluct super eoa laqueos/* for penal laws
pressed, are a shower of suarcs upon the people : therefore let
penal lawSj if they have been sleepers of loug,'^ or if they be
grown unfit for the present time, be by wise judges confined in
the execution : ' Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tempera rerum,*
&c,* In causes of life and death, judges ought (as far as the law
pcrniitteth) in justice to remember mercvj and to cast a severe
eye upon the example, but a merciful eye upon the person*

Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that plead* Patience
and gravity of hearing is an essential part of justice, and an
over- speaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal/ It is no grace
to a judge first to find tbat which he might have heard in due
time from the bar, or to show quickness of conceit* in cutting
off evidence or counsel too short, or to prevent* information by
questions, though pertinent. The parts of a judge in hear-
ing are four ; — ^to direct the evidence i to moderate length,

* ' TrMio wrings hard draws forth lilood/ Cf. Pror, xxx. 33*

^ Wrotight^ Worked^ ' It h^ been a breach of peace to have wrought any
mine of hiif.* — RaUlffh,

^ Terror, What fnaif excite dread. * Rukrs are uot a terror to good worki,
bnt to evU/ — Motnati^ liiL 3.

* * He »IiilU min flnared ui^on thetn.' — Pxalm xi, 6.

' Of. Jbr ; during. ^ He was d&droua to Sfi€ huD o/" a long ^^asfm^—Lake
xxlii. 8,

^ ' It IS the duty of a judgie to tJike into considcmtlon the tbueai, a* wcU m the
circumKtuucoti, of fkcbJ — Ovid, TrM. L i. 3^,

' Paalm d. 5.

^ Conceit. ConcepiiQTk ; apprehetmon. ^ I flhoU he found <£ a qtuck eouceit in
judgn^ent^ and I shall he admired.' — Wisd^pt vili. 11,

" Prevent, ForettalU Bee Matt, ivii. J5.

'EssB.j Ivi.] Of Judicature.

repetition, or impertinency' of speech;
and collate the material points of that
and to give the ride or sentence. Wh(
is too much^ and proceedeth either of ^ g
speak, or of impatience to hear, or of si
of want of a stayed and equal attention.
to see that the boldness of advocates shon
-whereas they should imitate God, in w
represseth the presumptuous, and giveth
but it is more strange that judges should
which cannot but cause multiplication ol
by-ways. There is due from the judge
commendation and gracing,^ where causei
fair* pleaded, especially towards the side
for that upholds in the client the reputati
beats down in him the conceit' of his can
due to the Public a civil reprehension of \
appeareth cunning counsel, gross neglec
indiscreet pressing, or an over-bold defen
ooiuisel at the bar chop* with the judge,
the handling of the cause anew, after the
his sentence ; but, on the other side, let n
cause half-way, nor give occasion to the p:
or proofs were not heard.

Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks
place of justice is a hallowed place; and i

* Impertinency. Irrelevancy, See page 86.
s Of. From. See page 270.

» Glory. Display; vaunting. See page 538.

* Grace. To favour.

* Regardless pasg'd her o'er, nor grac'd with ki

* Fair. Fairly.
* Entreat her fair *^Shaki^»in

* Obtaicu To prtrail ; xucceed. * Thou UtalL not
— Stx:tediis(u^tu xi. lO.

' Conceit* Opiaiou. ' Sccat tlion a man wise iq
more hoy& of a fuol tlum of liim/^ — Frov. %xvL 1 2*

' I iViaU Hilt ffiil to approve the fmr <
Th« kltig Imth of yyu/ — JSkakespti

* Cliop* To l^ndy wordt.
* Thti c^Qpjping Frt'Pch wo do not nQdortdM!

554 Of Judicature, [^ssay IvL

bench, but the footpace^ and precmcta, and purprifie^ thereofj
ought to be preserved without scandal and corruption; for,
certainljj grapes (as the Scripture saith) * will not be gathered
of tborafl or thistles j,'^ neither can justice yield her firuit witli
sweetness ansougst the briars and brambles of catching aud
pollin^^ clerks and ministers* The attendance of courts U
subject to four bad iustruroents ; first, certain persons that are
sowers of suits, which make the court swell, and the ooimtrr
pine ; the second sort is of those that eugage courts in quarrels
of jurisdiction, and are not truly ' amtci curiae/ but ' para&iti
curiae,^* in puffing a court np beyond her bounds for their owu
ftcraps and advantages ; the third sort is of those that may be
accounted the left hands of courts : persons that are full of
nimble and sinister tricks and shifts, whereby they pervert the
plain and direct courses of courts, and bring justice into oblique
lines and labyrinths ; and the fourth is the poller* and exactcr
of fees, which justifies the common resembkncc of the court*
of justice to the bush, whereunto while the sheep flies for de-
fence in weather J he is sure to lose part of the fleece. On the
otlier side, an ancient^ clerk, skilful in precedents, wary in pro-
ceedings, and understanding in the business of the court, is an
excellent figure of a court, and doth many times point the way
to the judge himself.

Fourthly, for that which may concern the sovereign and
estate. Judges ought, above all, to remember the conclusion
of the Roman twelve tables, ' Salus popuH suprema lex;" and
to know that laws, except they be in order to that end, are but
things captious^ and oracles not well inspired : therefore it is a
happy thing in a State, when kings and states do often consult

^ Footpace. A Johby.

^ Purprjae. Each^ttrtf, * But tlieir wivea and children were to oMcmble togT*
tlicr 111 a certain p]iU3e in Phociaj and they aUed the jpurpruet and preoBd*
thereof witb % bnge qimntlty of food«'^^p/f{zi»<2i

^ Matt. vii. i6.

* Polling, FiuTHieriafff ' Peeling and polling wore voyded, and in pl«« tbereo*
succeeded libemlity.* — Eraxravut.

* ' Frieuda of tha court,' but * panmlt«a of the court/

* Poller. Flund&rer. * With 8iillusL, he may Tail dovraright at a ^poller of
oaun trios, and yet iu offlco to he u mwt grievous poller himsalf.' — Bfiri^»*

^ Ancient. Se^nior* ' Juniua i^d Audronicus were In dm^tiaiuty hiji a»fMnl*'
'—'Hooker*

^ *The safety of tbe people u the Bnprema law/

Essay Ivii.] Of Anger.

Yost the second pointy the causes and
chiefly three : firsts to be too sensible oi
angry that feels not himself hurt; andj
delicate persons must needs be oft ' ang:
things to trouble them which more rob
sense of; the next is^ the apprehension ai
injury offered, to be, in the circumstance
tempt — ^for contempt is that which puttetl
as much, or more, than the hurt itself;
men are ingenious in picking out circun
they do kindle their anger much ; lastly,
of a man's reputation doth multiply and si
the remedy is, that a man should have, i
to say, ' telam honoris crassiorem/ ' Bu
anger, it is the best remedy to win time,
self believe that the opportunity of his revi
but that he foresees a time for it, and so 1
mean time, and reserve it.

To contain^ anger from mischief, thou
man, there be two things whereof you
caution : the one of extreme bitterness o
they be aculeate * and proper ; * for ' comm
nothing so much ; and again, that in ang
secrets ; for that makes him not fit for soc
you do not peremptorily break off in anj
anger : but howsoever ^ you show bitterness
that is not revocable.

For raising and appeasing anger in anoti

» Oft. Ofim, See page 358.
> Touch. Cemure, * I never bare any touch of oonflc !
'^King Charles.

* • A thicker web of honour.' — A. L. II. xz. 12.
^ Contain. To restrain,

* Fear not, my lord, we can eoiUain onraelves.'
' Aculeate. Pointed i sharps sHnging,
' Proper. Appropriate.

* In Athens all was pleasure, mirth, and play
All proper to the Spring and sprightly Maj
7 ' General reproaches.'

■ Howsoever. Sowever. 'Berosos, who, after Mo«i
ancient, howsoever he has smoe been oomipted, doth in tb
^Raleigh.

(1

^62 Of Anger. [Essay Ivii.

by chtising of times when men are forwardest and worst dis-
posed to incense them ; again^ by gathering (as was touched
before) all that you can find out to aggravate the contempt ;
and the two remedies are by the contraries : the former to take
good times^ when first to relate to a man an angry^ business,
for the first impression is much ; and the other is, to sever^ as
much as may be, the construction of the injury from the point
of contempt; imputing it to misunderstanding, fear, passion,
or what you will.

ANNOTATIONS.

Aristotle, in his Rhetoric (book ii. chap, a) — a work with
which Bacon seems to have been little, if at all, acquainted
^-defines anger to be ' a desire, accompanied by mental
uneasiness, of avenging oneself, or, as it were, inflicting
punishment for something that appears an unbecoming slight,
either in things which concern one's self, or some of one's
friends/ And he hence infers that, if this be anger, it must
be invariably felt towards some individual, uot against a class
or description of persons. And he afterwards grounds upon this
definition the distinction between anger and hatred; between
which, he says, there are several points of comparison. Anger
arises out of something having a personal reference to ourselves;
whereas hatred is independent of such considerations, since it is
borne towards a person, merely on account of the beheving him
to be of a certain description or cbaracteri In the next place,
anger is accompanied by pain i hatred is not so. Again, anger
would be satisfied to inflict some pain on its object, but hatred
desires nothing short of deadly harm ; the angry man desires
that the pain he iaflicrts should be hwwn to come from him ;
but hatred cares not for this. Again, the feeling of anger is
softened by time, but hatred is incurable. Once more, the
angry, man might be induced to pity the object of his anger, if
many misfortunes befel him ; but he who feels hatred cannot

* Augrj* Froi^okiRg anger,

' That waa to liim an ttnprtf jape {tncky—Sh<tkstpere,

Of Vicissiiudes of Tkhyg. pissay Iviii,

power and effect over the gross ^ and mass of things; but they
are rather gazed iiponj and waited upon^ in their journey, than
wisely observed iu their eflFects, especially in their respective
effects; that is, what kind of cornet^ for magnitude^ colour,
vei^ion^ of the beams, placing in the region of heaven or last-
ing, produeeth what kind of effects*

Til ere is a toyj which I have heard j and I would not have it
given over, but waited upon a little. They say it is observed
in the Low Countries (I know not in what part), that every
five and thirty years^ the same kind and sute* of years and
weathers comes about again; m great frosts, great wet, great
droughts, warm wintcrsj summers with little heat, and the like ;
and they call it the prime : it is a thing I do the rather men-
tion, because, computing backwards, I have found some concur-
r<mce»

But to leave these points of natmre, and to coipe to men.
The greatest vicissitude of things amongst men, is the vicissi-
tude of sects and religions ; for these orbs rule in men's minds
most. The true religion is built upon the rock ; the rest are
tossed upon the waves of time. To speak, therefore, of the
causes of new sects^ and to give some counsel con(^ming them,
as far as the weakness of human judgment can give stay* to so
great revolutions*

When the religion formerly received is rent by discords, and
when the holiness of the professors of religion is decayed and
full of scandal, and withal* the times be stupid, ignorant, and
barbarous, you may doubt ^ the springing up of a new sect; if

1 Grc^s, Thf chief part ; ihe inaiu bodif, ' The ^roxs of the people C3J> have
no other prospeot in cliangea and revolutioDs tban of public bl^ssiiigSH' — AddisK^n,

* VVnited upun, Walch^d. S<?e page 226*
' Version, Dir^ctioti.

Sute or 9uit» Order ^ correjtpond^ace^ ' Toacbin]^ m&Hets belongs n^^ to the
Cburcii of Cliriat, tbis we conceive tbi^t ttjoy are not of one sut^/ — Mooksr^ For
our Girpressian * out of Borts,' Shokespere haa * out of Fut^/

* fcjtaj. Check,

* Witli prudent ffajf be long ilrfeired
Tile fierce conttntioii/''— -P^i/yj*,

* Withal, Likgiijise i begideg,

• God, when He ^ve me strength, to shew wiihal^
How alig^ht the gift wag, bung it in mj hair/ — MlJtoA.

' DoubL Toff^at; to apprehend, *TliiB Is enough for n project without an j
nauie, I doubt more than will bo reduced into practice, ' — Stt^tft,

13
1^'

Essay Iviii.] Of Vicissitudes of li

tben alfio there shotQd arise any extrava
to make himself author thereof— all w!
Mahomet published his law. If a new i
perties^ fear it not, for it will not sprea
planting, or the opposing of authority ei
ia more popular than that ; the other ii
pleasures and a voluptuous life : for as i
(such as were in ancient times the Arian
nians), though they work mightily upon :
produce any great alteration in States, ea
of civil occasions. There be three ma
new sects — ^by the power of signs and mirs
and wisdom of speech and persuasion ; ai
martyrdoms, I reckon them amongst i
seem to exceed the strength of human i
the like of superlative and admirable hoi
there is no better way to stop the ris
schisms than to reform abuses; to com]
ferences ; to proceed mildly, and not witl
tions ; and rather to take off the principa
and advancing them, than to enrage tl
bitterness.

The changes and vicissitudes in wars
in three things; in the seats or stages
weapons, and in the manner of the condu
time, seemed more to move from east to ti
Assyrians, Arabians, Tartars (which were i
eastern people. It is true the Gk^uls V9
read but of two incursions of theirs — ^the
the other to Home ; but east and west h
of heaven, and no more have the wars, eil
west, any certainty of observation; but
fixed; and it hath seldom or never be
southern people have invaded the norther
whereby it is manifest'that the northern
in nature the more martial region-^be it
of that hemisphere, or of the great coni
the north ; whereas the south part, for ai

1 ContTariwise. On the couiraiy. S

570 Of Vidssittides of Things. [Essay Iviii.

almost all sea ^ or (which is most apparent) of the cold of the
northern parts^ which is that, which^ without aid of disGipline,
doth make the bodies hardest^ and the courage warmest.

Upon the breaking and shivering of a great State and empire,
you may be sure to have wars ; for great empires^ while they
standi do enervate and destroy the forces of the natives which
they have subdued, resting upon their own protecting forces;
and then when they fail also, all goes to ruin, and they become
a prey ; so it was in the decay of the Roman empire, and like-
wise in the empire of Almaigne,' after Charles the Great, every
bird taking a feather, and were not unlike to befall to^ Spain,
if it should break. The great accessions and unions of kingdoms
do likewise stir up wars ; for when a State grows to an over
power, it is like a great flood, that will be sure to overflow, as
it hath been seen in the States of Rome, Turkey, Spain, and
others. Look when the world hath fewest barbarous people,
but such as commonly will not marry, or generate, except they
know means to live (as it is almost everywhere at this day,
except Tartary), there is no danger of inundations of people;
but when there be great shoals of people, which go on to popu-
late, without foreseeing means of life and susteutation,' it is of
necessity that once in an age or two they discharge a portion
of their people upon other nations, which the ancient northern
people were wont to do by lot — casting lc4a what part should
stay at home, and what should seek their fortunes. When a
warlike State grows soft and eflfeminate, they may be sure of a
war ; for commonly such States are grown rich in the time of
their degenerating, and so the prey inviteth, and their decay in
valour encourageth a war.

As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under rule and obserra*
tion; yet we see even they have returns and vicissitudes; for

^ Almaig^e. Ghnnafiy,

* Then I stoutlj won in fight
The Emperour*s daughter of Almaigne.*—8kr Ch^ qf Wanriok,

' Be&U to (unnsoal with to). To happen.

' Some great mischief hath befallen
To that meek man.' — Milton.

' Sustentation. Support. ' He (Malcolm) assigned certain rents for the tvt'
tentation of the canons he had placed tliere of the order of St. Angostine.—
Holinehed,

Essay Iviii.] Of Vicissitudes of J\

certain it is^ that ordnance was known
draces in India^ and was that which
thunder^ and lightning, and magic, an^
the use of ordnance hath been in Chi
years. The conditions of weapons and
first, the fetching* afar off, for that onto
seen in ordnance and muskets ; seconc
percussion, wherein likewise ordnance d
and ancient inventions ; the third is, i
them, as that they may serve in all wea
may be light and manageable, and the 1

For the conduct of the war : at the fii
upon number ; they did put the wars li
and valour, pointing' days for pitched 1
out upon an even match, and they '^
ranging and arraying their battles.* J
upon number rather competent than vat
tages of place, canning diversions, and i
more skilful in the ordering of their bat

In the youth of a State, arms do flou
of a State, learning, and then both of the
in the declining age of a State, mechanics
Learning hath his infancy, when it is bu
childish ; then his youth, when it is 1
then his strength of years, when it is s(
lastly, his' old age, when it waxeth dry
not good to look too long upon these tv
tude, lest we become giddy. As for the
is but a circle of tales, and therefore no

^ Fetch. To gtrikefrom a dutance.
' Arietation. T%e use of Ixtttering-rams,
' Point. To appoint. See page 441.
^ Fields. Battles,

' And whilst a JUld should be dispatch
You are disputing of jour generals.'-
' Battles. Forces,

* What may the lung's whole battle reach
> Reduced. Subjected (to rule). < The Ronu
Britain by thdr arms.' — Ogilvie,
7 His. Its, See page 400.
* Exhaust. Exhausted, See page 87.

A Fragment of an Essay ^

things oonceming the nature of fame,
as^ there is scarcely any great action \
great part^ especially in the war. Mu<i
by a fame that he scattered^ that Vitelli
move the legions of Syria into German;
Germany into Syria ; whereupon the legi
finitely inflamed.' Julius Csesar took Po:
laid asleep his industry and preparations
cunningly gave out^ how Caesar's own sol
and being wearied with the wars^ and lad
Gaul^ would forsake him as soon as he cai
settled all things for the succession of her
tinually giving out that her husband Angus
and amendment;' and it is a usual thing
conceal the death of the great Turk fro
men of war^ to save the sacking of Cons
towns^ as their manner is. Themistodes
of Persia, post apace* out of Grecia/ by
Grecians had a purpose to break his bridj
had made athwart' the Hellespont.' T
such like examples, and the more they ar(
to be repeated, because a man meeteth wi
wherefore, let all wise governors have as
care over fames, as they have of the actioi
selves.

' Ab. T^hat. See page 33.

' Undid. Muined, (Not so frequently nsed in this sc
of the verb 'to undo/)

' Where, with like hagte, through several w
Some to undo, and some to be undone' — j

* TWdt. But. ii. 80. ^ CfBS. a

* TWt. Ann, i. 5.

* Apaoe. Speedily.
' Ay, quoth my nude Glo'ster,

Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow
And since, methinks^ I would not grow so fast
Because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds ma]
7 Greda. Greece, * Through his riches he shall st
of Qreeia'^^Dan, xi. 3.
^ Athwart. Acrou,
' • ' Execrable Shape !

That dar'st, though grim and terrible.
Thy miscr«ited front aihmari my way
^ • Vid. Eerod. viii. io8, 109.

574 -^ Fragment of an Essay on Fame.

ANNOTATIONS.

[This Essay is reckoned a fragment, as it is supposed Bacon mnst haye written
much more on the sabject : but it is complete as iar as it goes; and there are
many of the other Essays that would have borne to be much enlarged.]

^ Fame is of tfuit force <i8 there is scarcely any great actim
wherein it hath not a great party as .... a man
meeteth with them everywhere.*

By 'fame/ Bacon means wliat we call ' reporV or 'rumour/
or the French on dit.

One remarkable instance of the effects produced by rumours
might be added to those Bacon mentions. When Buonaparte's
return from Elba was plotted^ his partisans went all about
France^ pretending to seek to purchase land; and when in
treaty for a field, and seemingly about to close the bargain, they
inquired about the title ; and when they found, as they generally
did, that it was land which had been confiscated at the Revolu-
tion, they broke off at once, declaring that the title was inse-
cure : thus spreading throughout France the notion that the
Bourbons meditated the resumption of all those lands — ^the chief
part of France — ^to restore them to the former owners. And
thus, most of the proprietors were eager for their downfall.

Some remarks on political predictions, already made in my
notes on the Essay ' Of Prophecies,' might come in imder this
head.

' Let all wise governors have as great a watch and care over
fames as they have of the actions and designs themselves.^

The necessity of this watchfulness from the effects produced
by them seems ,to have been recognised at a very early period
in our legislative history. We have before noticed a statute
respecting them made in the reign of Edward the First. It
enacts that * forasmuch as there have been oftentimes found in
the country Devisors of Tales, whereby dijbord [or occasion] of
discord hath arisen many times between the Eling and his
people, or great men of this realm ; for the damage that hath

Annotations. \

and may thereof ensue; it is command
none be so hardy to tell or publish (
"whereby discord, or [matter] of disco
between the King and his people^ or
realm ; and he that doth so shall be tf
until he hath brought him into the
which did speak the same/ — ^ EduK
c. xxxiy.

The framing and circulating of ' pc
been set down by Bacon as one of the ]

I

The Praise of KnoH

what which is new ; but all the disput
brought to light one effect of nature 1
things are known and found out^ the
them^ they can knit them into certain
them to their principles. If any insti
against them, they can range it in ore
But all this is but a web of the wit ;^
do not doubt but that common notion
and the knitting of them together^ whi
art of reason and studies. But they n
gain light to' the contemplation of nati
All the philosophy of nature which
the philosophy of the Grecians^ or that
of the Ghrecians hath the foundations
in confutation, in sects^ in schools^ in
cians were, as one of themselves sa
children.* They knew little antiquil
fables, not much above five hundred ;
They knew but a small portion of th
alchemists hath the foundation in impo
tions and obscurity. It was catching I
principle of it is, Popubis vult decipi.'
great difference between these great pb
one is a loud crying folly, and the oth
The one is gathered out of a few vulgs
other out of a few experiments of a fu
faileth to multiply words, and the othei
gold. Who would not smile at Arist(
the eternity and invariableness of the
not the like in the bowels of the earth
and borders of these two kingdoms, whi
tion and incursion are. The superficies
earth are fiiU of varieties. The superfi
the heavens, which we call the middle i
of variety. There is much spirit in tl
be brought into mass. There is much

^ Wit InUUeei. ' Will puts in practice what
' To. For. See page 248.
* Plato. See Adnantcement of Learning, book i.
^ The people wish to be deceived.

The Praise of Ki

notions and blind experiments; ani
issue of so honourable a match m
consider.

Printings a gross^ invention ; artiU
far out of the way ; the needle, a tl
what a change have these three mad
times ; the one in state of learning,
war, the third in the state of treasure
gation ! And those, I say, were but i
upon by chance. Therefore, no doul
lieth hid in knowledge; wherein m
which kings with their treasure can
force command; their spials' and i
news of them, their seamen and disc
they grow ; now we govern nature in oi
unto her in necessity ; but if we wouL
tion, we should conmiand her in actio

ANTITHBTA.

Pbo.

'Ea demnm volnptas est aecnndiun 'Coi

naturam, ci\jiiB non est aatietaa. ' Coi

' The only pleasure which e<m be eon* lence.*

formable to nature w that which hnowt

no satiety* < Bei

quam 1
• ♦ ♦ • *Thx

' Omnes affectos pravi, faloB estima- from d
tiones sunt; atque eadem sont bonitaa
et Veritas.

' Bad tendencies wre, tn fact, false
judgments of things; for truth and
goodness are the same/

' Gross. Probably palpably obvious ; which it ^
as soon as a cheap paper was invented.
' Spials. Scouts.

' For he by fkithfid spials was assu
That Egypt's king vras forward oi
' Thrall. Slave.

' No thralls Uke them that inwar

INDEX TO ES

BS8AT or

Adversity ....

Ambition ....

Anger

Atheism ....

Beauty

Boldness ....

Building ....

Ceremonies and Respects

Children (Parents and) .

Counsel ....

Cunning . , . ,

Custom and Ekltication .

Death

Deformity . , . .

Ddaja » . . » .
Discourse ....

Dispatoh , . , ,
Dissimulation (Simulation and)
Education (Custom and)
Empire ......

Envy

Expense

Faction ......

Fame (Fragment of an Eusay on) «

Followere and Friends .

Fortune , . . . .

Fnendahip . . , ^ ,
Gardens, * . • . .

Glory (Yain)

GoodnesB, and Goodneas of Nature .

Great Place

Health (Regimen of ) ,
Honour and Reputation

ESBAf OF

Innovationa ..-,.,<,.,. 348

Judicature ..,,..,,,. 551

KiiigdoniB and E&tates (the True Greatness of ) . < . 307

Knowledge (tlie Praise of) , . , , . * * 57^

Love •,*.,,,._». 102

Man*s Self (Wisdom for a) .241

Marriage and Bingle life ,►...*- 86

Masques and Trinrnpha 390

K'atm-e iu Men *.*,,,,.. 394

Kegotiating . , . , , . . . . ^ 453

Nobility , . » , 135

Farenti and Children ....,.* ^ 82

Plantations ,,-,,,..., 355

Praise , 525

Prophecies * 579

B«veiige ,-,.,,,,-. 53

Eich^ .*.... 368

Seditions and Troubles . . , 140

8elf (Wisdom for a Man^a) . , , , . . ,241

Bimulation and Dissimulation . . . , . • 7^
Bingle Life (Mao'iage and) . . - , * . .86

Studies ,...>.*..,, 474

Suitoi"s » . < * , * * . * . . 471
Superstition < . . , . . , « * .170

Suspicion 33a

Things (Vicissitudes of) , , . , , . , - 566

Travel , 195

Truth . , I

Unity in HeUgion ...,..,>. 20

U&uiy * . 418

Yidssitudefl of Things .,,...*. $66

"Vmn Glory .,,.,,.,,, 538
Wisdom for a Man's Self * . . . , . ,^41

Wise (Seeming) *-*,.,•.. 275

Youth and Age ,«.,,•.«, 415

INDEX TO ANNOT

Advocates, temptations of, 556.

Age, old, Aristotle's description 0^ 427 ; ai

o^ 431-
Althorp, Lord, anecdote o^ 531.
Ambition, true end of, 109 j not essentiall]
Anger, different modes of appeasing, 564 ;

563-
Ants, mistake concerning, 24 a.
Approbation, lore o^ 534 ; distinct from 1<
Aristotle, 54, 56, 100, 244, 289, 349, 396,
Associations, definite object in, 296, 404, 5
Atheism, causes o^ 164 ; credulity of, 158 ;

Bacon., moral character of, 410.
Bending the wand, 396.
Benevolence, example of our Lord the n
evils of, 129 j nature of, mistaken, 131
Birth, noble, aphorism of Warburton respec

138.

Booker — his vocabulary of obsolete words

sion recommended, iiL
Books for children, 33, 120, 500 ; some, to
Bow, a backed, 273.
Brute-life, Turkic regard for, 132.

Cabinet-council, presidency of, 218.

Caution, defect o^ in the cunning, 238.

Cavillers, difficulty of dealing with, xx., 46^

Celerity in decision and execution, impori
223, 258, 271, 274.

Celibacy of clergy, 88, 121.

Censure, equivalent to praise, 536.

Ceremonies, necessity of, 523 ; religious, m

Character, similarity 0^ in men of opposite

Children, books for, 33, 120, 500; employn
gratuitous disappointment o^ 67 ; lear
of a profession for, 83 ; precodoua, 432

Cingalese farmer, anecdote o£, 498.

Clouds, £Ekble of the, 122.

INDEX TO ANNOTAV

Faults^ observing o^ 297.

Feigning, power o^ 78.

Flattery, domestic, 532.

Followers of their own footsteps, 252, 267.

Forgiveness, christian, mistakes concerning,

juries, not the hardest^ 55.
Forest, American, 477.
Fortune fiEtvours fools, 415.
Friendship, indispensable, 289; continuanc

290 ; uses of, 296, 299.
Frivolous, proper application of the term, 3^
Future state, the preparedness for, illustrate

Gardening landscape— earliest writer on, 45
€k)od-humour and good-nature^ 132.
Graptomancy, 397.

Habit and custom, distinction between, 402

the same thing, 407.
Helotism, 149.

History, study of, 397, 502, 509.
Horse-rashness, 267.

Ichneumon fly^ 17.

Idols of the race, 398.

Ignorance of our ignorance, 479.

Ill-used man, an, 416.

Inconsistency, imputation of, 520.

Indifference of the judgment and the will, 7

In&llibility, a craving for, a cause of athe 1

unconnected with persecution, 39.
Ingenuity perverted, instances o^ 505.

Jesting, pro&ne, 162, 173.
Johnson, a paradox o( 409.
Judgment, private, 28.

Kite, &ble of the, 208.

Knowledge, misapplication of, 503 ; its tru' 1

Language, changes in, 261 ; technical, 49, . 1

Latitudinarianism, intolerance of, 177.

Life, recklessness of, 16 j domestic, necessa '

586 INDEX TO ANNOTATIONS.

Longevity and early hours, 327.
Love, romantic, 103.

Manner, a conscious, 348.

Mathematics, study o^ 495.

Mean, the golden, no, 277.

Measures, order of, important, 223.

Minority, influence of, 216.

Mirror of a wise man, 276.

Monastic life, 294.

Monopoly, 246, 383.

Moral principle, trials of, advantageous, 67 ; value of, to knowledge

of mankind, 231, 333 ; effect of party-spirit upon, 519.
Motives of right actions, 536.
Moth-rashness, 267.
Mummies, preparers of the, 550.
Myths, supposed, 507.

Naturalization, 316.

Nobility, British, system of, 137.

Non-resistance, 317.

Nosology, mental, 231.

Novelty, love of, 251, 263 ; exaggeration of, 267.

Oath of abjuration, 506.
Oppression, effects of, on character, 64, 66.
Orators, two kinds of, 353.
Oratory, exercised on a man's self, 9, 296.
Over-governing, error of, 152, 422.

Over-rating of cautious characters, 125; of reserved characters, 76 ^
of the seen and known, 383.

Pagans, atheism of, 160 ; objects of their worship, 161.
Palimpsest, a human, 433.
Parable, what properly so called, 507.
Parochial visitors, 463.

Party- spirit, 44, 50, 404, 516 ; effect of, on the moral standard, 519.
Persecution, by what argument precluded, 39 ; not consisting in seve-
rity of penalty, 51.
Phenakism, 13.
Pilate's question, 4.
Pilgrim Fathers, intolerance of, 64.
Poems and tales, influence of, 33, 499.

INDEX TO ANNOTA'.

Political economj, absurd notions of, 154.
Poverty, exposure of, 302 ; praise of, 377.
Power, despotic, anomaly in, 147.
Predictions, political, 382, 574.
Prejudices, cautions to be observed in coml
Priest-craft, exclusion of, from Christianity
Procrastination in study, 482.
Proverbs^ true character of, 3.
Pumpkin and pine-apple, 523.
Puzzle-headedness conducive to sudden celel

Questions, impertinent, how to deal with, 76
of, recommended, 490.

Kashness of the horse and the moth, 267, 4^
He-actions, danger of, 191, 265.
Heading through coloured spectacles, 487.
Hecommendations, 473.
Religion, * any better than none,' &llacy of tl

on national character, 321.
Remedy of a remedy, comparatively easy, 21
Reputation, posthumous, 18, 546.
Restoration mistaken for innovation, 261.
Revolution, best safeguard against, 208, 263
Rewards and punishments, temporal, a di£

the Mosaic dispensation, 69.
Rise by merit, 99.
Robinson Crusoe's goats, 231.
Rumours, effect of, 382, 574.

Scripture, rationalistic explainers o^ 507 ; f

Self-conceit and modesty, 540.

Self-distrust, 60 ; flattery, 9, 296 ; torment, !

Selfishness distinct from self-love, 244 ; tau I

Self-love and social, 245.

Sergeant, a Scotch, anecdote of, 404.

Shdkespere^ Whately on, 451.

Smattering, 479.

Society, progress of, how provided for, 321,

Sovereign, British, power of, 206 ; herediti
ferring, 99, 315,

Station, higli, two classes of men in, 109;
dmtites, 1 J 6 ; rtile for Spartan warfare
and censure ot^ indbcrlmimito, 12a.

Studies, contempt of, 476, 480.

Stylo, ^m and my^ical, a, viii., 280 ^ at different periods of life, 434.

Suppression, faJaehood of, 11*

Sympathy, reflex, pbenomeDa referred to, 350.

Temperatore, alternations o^ 330-
Tcnni fixed, 49,

Testa of Oburcli communion necessary, 26*
TLaumatrope, fallacy of the, 360.

Thomsons Seasons, by whom first braught into notice, 451*
Time not properly an agent, 231, 250*
Toldoth Jeacbu, 513.

Tradition, vagueness of, 188 ; co-ortlinate and snbordinatc, not prac-
tically distinct, : 90,
Translation, oral, utility q£j 456,
Tmvellers, wi^-eyed, 197 ; in Irdand, 199*
Tricks of cunning, 233, 239, 280, 354, 574,
Trifies, importance of, as testa, 243, 396,
Truth, obstacleB to the pursuit of, 10.

Unbelief, credulity of, 159 ; intolerance of, 40, 177.
United States, Preaident of, 3 06, 3S9,
Unity and truth, 32, 39.

Verbs neuter, 330.

Virtues, the bigher, disparagement of, 527*

War, fiillacy with regard to its costliness, 318.

Warburton, Bishop, his aphorism on nobility, 137.

Wealth, influence of, on character, 372 ; not to be despised, 377*

'What is the use ?' 494*

Whately, Thomas, on Landscape-Gardening, 45 r»

Wilkes^ a saying of, 460.

Will of God, the, two senses of, confounded, 37*

Wyiiams, Roger, 65-

Wisdom, pretensions to, 277 ; of ancestor^ 256, 259.

Wise man, the mirror of a, 276.

WordSj change in meaning of, 26 1»

THE EHU,