The works of Francis Bacon, baron of Verulam, viscount St. Alban, and lord high chancellor of England

,

University of California • Berkeley

Gift of
JOHN A. & CHARLES

STEVENSON

£NGHAVK1> BY JAMES IKBttHLA.K.A.

THE

WORKS

OF

FRANCIS BACON,

BARON OF VERULAM,

VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN,

AND

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND,

IN TpN VOLUMES.

VOLUME 1.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON J VV. J. AND J. RICHARDSON; OTRll'CE AND SON ;
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By IL Bnjcr, Bridge-street, Blackfriars.

1803.

CONTENTS

OF THE

FIRST VOLUME,

PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS.

OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING,
DIVINE AND HUMAN.

BOOK I.

THE Objections against Learning considered,

Page 6

The Objections of Divines, ibid.

The Objections of Politicians, 1 1

Objections drawn from the Fortune, Manners, or Stu-
dies of Learned Men, 18
The Diseases of Learning, 26
The Dignity of Learning shewn, 40

BOOK II.

Public Obstacles to Learning considered, 69

The Distribution of Knowledge into particular Sciences,

76

Knowledge divided, according to Man's three principal
F acuities * into, I. HISTORY, which relates to Me-
mory. II. POESY, which flows from the Imagina-
tion. III. PHILOSOPHY, which is the Produce of
Reasoning, 76

HISTORY divided into, 1. Natural. 2. Civil, ibid,,

11 CONTENTS.

Natural History is of three sorts, 1 . The History of
Generations. 2. Of Preter -Generations. 3. Of
Arts, 77

Civil History divided into, \. Memoirs. 2. Just His-
tory. 3. Antiquities, 80

Just History divided into Chronicles, Lives, and Nar-
ratives or Relations, 8 1

History also divided into Annals and Journals, 85

History Ecclesiastical divided into, the History of the
Church ; the History of Prophesy ; and the History
of Providence, 87

Appendices to History; Speeches, Letters, Apophthegms,

88

POETRY divided into, 1. Narrative. 2. Dramatical.
3. Parabolical, 91

PHILOSOPHY divided into three Branches, 1. Divine.
2. Natural. 3. Human, 93

The Trunk ofally a Primitive or Summary Philosophy,

ibid.

Divine Philosophy, or Natural Theology, relates to the
Being and Attributes of God s and the Nature of
Angels or Spirits, 96

Natural Philosophy, divided into Speculative and P?*ac-
tical, 98

Speculative Philosophy, or natural Science, divided into
Physics and Metaphysics, ibid.

Physics divided into, 1 . The Doctrine of the Principles
of Things. 2. The Doctrine of the Formation of
Things, or the World. 3. The Doctrine concerning
the Variety oj Things, 102

Metaphysics divided into 1 . The Doctrine of Forms.
2. The Doctrine of t final Causes, ibid.

Mathematics divided into, 1. Pure. 2. Mixed, 108

Pure Mathematics divided into Geometry and Arith-
metic, ibid.

Mixed Mathematics divided into Perspective, Music,
Astronomy, Cosmography, Architecture, Enginery,
&c. ibid.

Practical Philosophy, or natural Prudence, divided into
Mechanics and Magic, 109

CONTENTS:, in

Human Philosophy has two Parts, human and civil, i 1 5

Human Doctrine divided into, 1 . The Doctrine of the'
human body. 2. the Doctrine of I he human Soul, ibid.

The Doctrine of the Union of Soul and Body divided
into, 1. The Doctrine of Notices. 2. The Doctrine
of Impression, ibid.

The Doctrine of the Human Body divided into, 1 . Me-
dicine. 2. Cosmetics. 3. Athletics. 4. Arts of
Elegance, 1 1 8

The Doctrine of the Human Soul divided into, 1 . The
Doctrine of the Nature of the Soul. 2. The Doc-
trine of the Faculties of the Sout, 127

Appendices to the Doctrine of the &oul. 1. Divination.
2. Fascination, 127, 129

The Doctrine of the Faculties of the Soul divided into,
1. Logics. 2. Ethics, 1?0, 131

The intellectual Arts are four, 1. The Art of Inquiry
or Invention. 2. The Art of Examination. $. The Art
of Custody or Memory. 4. The Art of Elocution or
Tradition, 131, 132

Ethics divided into, 1. The Doctrine of t lie Image of
good. 2. The Georgics or Cultivation of the Mind,

164

Good divided into simple and compound ; private Good,
and the Good of Society, 166

The Cultivation of the Mind regards, 1 . Different Dis-
positions. 2. Affections. 3. Remedies, 111, 192

Civil Dotrine divided into three Kinds of Doctrine or
Prudence. 1. Prudence in Conversation. 2, Prudence
in Business. 3. Prudence in Government y ibid.

SYLVA SYLVARUM; OR A NATURAL HISTORY,

IN TEN CENTURIES.

CENTURY I.

OF straining or percolation, outward and inward, 245

Of motion upon pressure, 247

Of separations of bodies liquid, by iveight, 249

Of infusions, in water and air, 250

IV CONTENTS.

Of the appetite of continuation in liquids, 253

Of artificial springs, 254

Of (he venomous quality of man s flesh, ibid.

Of turning air into water, 255

Of helping or altering the shape of the body, 256
Of condensing of air, to yield weight or nourishment, 257

Of Jlame and air commixed, 258

'Of the secret nature of fame, 259

Of Jlame in the midst, and on the sides, 260

Of motion of gravity, ibid.

Of contraction of bodies in bulky 261

Of making vines more fruitful, ibid.

Of the several operations of purging medicines, 262

Of meats and drinks most nourishing, 266

Of medicines applied in order, 272

Of cure by custom, 273

Of cu re by excess, 274

Of cure by motion of consent, ibid.

Of cure of diseases contrary to predisposition^ 2.75

Of preparation before and after purging, ibid.

Of stanching blood, 276

Of change of aliments and medicines, 277

Of diets, ibid.

Of production of cold, ibid.

Of turning air into water, 280

Of induration of bodies, 282

Of preying of air upon water, 286

Of the force of union, ibid.

Of making feathers and hairs of divers colours, 287

Of nourishment of young creatures in the egg, or

womb, 288

Of sympathy and antipathy, ibid.

Of t lie spirits, or pneumaticals in bodies, 289

Of the power of heat, 29 1

Of impossibility of annihilation, 293

CENTURY II.

Of music, 294

Of the nullity and entity of sounds, 299
Of production, conservation, and dilation of sounds, 303

CONTENTS.

Of magnitude, exility, and damps of sounds, 308

Of loudncss and softness of sounds, 3 1 4-

Of communication of sounds, 315

Of equality and inequality of sounds, 3 1 6

Of more treble and base tones, 3 1 8

Of proportion of treble and base, 319

Of exterior and interior sounds, 321

Of articulation of sounds, 322

CENTURY III.

Of the lines in which sounds move, 325
Of the lasting and perishing of sounds, 326
Of the passage in interception of sounds, 328
Of the medium of sounds, 33O
Of the figures of bodies yielding sounds, ibid.
Of mixture of sounds, 332
Of melioration of sounds, 333
~Of imitation of sounds, 335
Of reflection of sounds, S37
Of consent and dissent between audibles and visibles, 341
Of sympathy and antipathy of sounds 346
Of hindering or helping of hearing, 347
Of the spiritual and fine nature of sounds, 348
Of orient colours in dissolutions of metals, 350
Of prolongation of life, ibid*
Of the appetite of union in bodies, ibid,
Of the like operations of heat and tune, 351
Of the differing operations ofjire and time, 352
Of motions by imitation, ibid.
Of infectious diseases, ibid.
Of the incorporation of powders and liquors, 353
Of exercise of the body, and the benefits or evils there-
of, ibid.
Of meats soon glutting, or not glutting, 354-

CENTURY IV.

Of clarification of liquors, and the acceleration there-
of, 355

Of maturation, and the accelerating thereof-, and of the

maturation of drinks and fruits, 358

VI CONTENTS.

Of making g old, 3 6 1

Of the several natures of gold, 364

Of inducing and accelerating putrefaction, ibid.

Of prohibiting and preventing putrefaction, 367

Of rotten wood shining , 370

Of acceleration of birth, 372

Of acceleration of growth and stature, ibid.

Of bodies sulphureous and mercurial, 373

Of ttie chameleon, 375

Of subterrany flres, 376

Of n itro us wa ter, ibid.

Of congealing of air, ibid.

Of congealing of water into crystal, 377
Of preserving the smell and colour in rose leaves, ibid.

Of the lasting of flame, 378
Of infusions or burials of divers bodies in earth, 382
Of the effects of men's bodies from several winds, 383

Of winter and summer sicknesses, 384

Of pestilential years, ibid.

Of epidemical diseases, ibid.
Of preservation oj liquors in wells, or deep vaidts, 385

Of stuttering, ibid.

Of sweet smells, 386

Of the goodness and choice of wafers, 387

Of temperate heats under the equinoctial, 388

Of the coloration of black and tawny moors, ibid.

Of motion after the instant of death, 3b9

CENTURY v.

Of accelerating or hastening forward germination, 391
Of retarding or putting back germination, 395

Of meliorating, or making better, fruits and plants,

397

Of compound fruits and flowers, 41O

Of sympathy and antipathy of plants, 41 1

Of making herbs and fruits medicinable, 417

CONTENTS.

CENTURY VI.

Of curiosities about fruits and plants, 419

Of the degenerating of plants, and of their transmuta-
tion one into another, 424
Of the proceritij and lowness of plants, and of artificial
dwarfing them, 428
Of the rudiments of plants, and of the excrescences of
plants, or super-plants, 429
Of producing perfect plants without seed, 435
Of foreign plants, 437
Of the seasons of several plants, 438
Of the lasting of plants, 440
Of several figures of plants, 442
Of some principal differences in plants, 443
Of all manner of composts and helps for ground, 445

CENTURY vn.

Of the affinities and differences between plants, and bodies

inanimate, 449

Of affinities and differences between plants and living

creatures, and of the confiners and participles of both,

451

Of plants experiments promiscuous, 452

Of the healing of wowids, 472

Of fat diffused in flesh, 473

Of ripening drink speedily, ibid.

Ofpilosity and plumage, ibid.

Of the quickness of motion in birds, 474

Of the clearness of the sea, the north wind blowing, ibid.
Of the different heats of flre and boiling water, ibid.
Of the qualification of heat by moisture, 475

Of yawning, ibid.

Of the hiccough, 476

Of sneezing, ibid.

Of the tenderness of the teeth, ibid.

Of the tongue, 477

Of the mouth out of taste, ibid.

Of some prognostics of pestilential seasons, ibid «

CONTENTS.

Of special simples for medicines, 47 8

Of Venus, ibid.
Of the insecta, or creatures bred of putrefaction, 480

Of leaping, 484
Of the pleasures and displeasures of hearing, and of the

other senses, ibid.

CENTURY VIII.

Of veins of earth medicinal, 486

Ofspunges, ibid.

Of sea-Jish in fresh waters, ibid.

Of attraction by similitu de of substance, 487

Of certain drinks in Turkey, 488

Of sweat, ibid.

Of the glow-worm, 490
Of the impressions upon the body from several passions

of the mind, ibid.

Of drunkenness, 495

Of the hurt or help of wine, taken moderately, 496

Of caterpillars, 497

Of the flies cantharides, ibid.

Of lassitude, 498

Of casting the skin, and shell, in some creatures, ibid.

Of the postures of the body, 499

Of pestilential years, ibid.

Of some prognostics of hard winters, 50O
Of certain medicines that condense and relieve the spirits,

ibid.

Of pain tings of the body, 501

Of the use of bathing and anointing, i bid.

Of chamblett ing of paper, 5 02

Of cuttle ink, " ibid.

Of earth increasing in weight, ibid.

Of sleep, 503
Of teeth, and hard substances in the bodies of living

creatures, 504
Of the generation, and bearing of living creatures in the

zvomb, 507

Of species visible, 509

Of impulsion and percussion, 5 10

CONTENTS. IX

Of titillation, 511

Of scarcity of rain in Egypt, ibid.

Of clarification, 5 1 2

Of plants without leaves, ibid.

Of the materials of glass, 513
Of prohibition of putrefaction, and the long conservation

of bodies, ibid,

O/ abundance of nitre in certain sea-shores, 5 1 5

O/* 60<#e£ borne up by water, ibid,

Of fuel consuming little or nothing ibid.

Of cheap fuel, 516

Of gathering of wind for freshness, ibid.

#/* /na/f of air, ibid.

O/ increasing milk in milch beasts, 5 1 7

Q/ sand of the nature of glass > 5 1 7

O/ the growth of coral, ibid.

Of the gathering of manna, 5 18

Of the correcting of wines, ibid.

Of bitumen, one of the materials of wild-fire, ibid.

Qf plaster growing as hard as marble, 519

Of the cure of some idcers and hurts, ibid,
Of the healthfidness or unhealthfulness of the southern

wind, 520

Of wounds made with brass, and with iron, ibid.

Of mortification by cold, ibid.

Of weight, 521

Of supernatation of bodies, ibid.

Of the flying of unequal bodies in the air, ibid.

Of water, that it may be the medium of sounds, 522

Of the flight of the spirits upon odious objects, ibid.

Of the super-reflection of echos, 523
Of the force of imagination imitating that of the sense,

ibid.

Of preservation of bodies, 524
Of the growth or multiplying of metals, ibid.
Of the drowning the more base metal in the more pre-
cious, 525
Of fixation of bodies, i bid .
Of the restless nature of things in themselves, and their
desire to change, 526

THE

LIFE OF FRANCIS BACON,

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND.

1 HE ancient Egyptians had a law, which ordained,
that the actions and characters of their dead should
be solemnly canvassed before certain judges ; in
order to regulate what was due to their memory.
No quality, however exalted ; no abilities, however
eminent ; could exempt the possessors from this last
and impartial trial. To ingenuous minds this was
a powerful incentive, in the pursuit of virtue -} and
a strong restraint on the most abandoned, in their
career of vice. Whoever undertakes to write the
life of any person, deserving to be remembered by
posterity, ought to look upon this law as prescribed
to him. He is fairly to record the faults as well as
the good qualities, the failings as well as the perfec-
tions, of the dead ; with this great view, to warn and
improve the living. For this reason, though I shall
dwell with pleasure on the shining part of my lord
Bacon's character, as a writer; 1 shall not dare
either to conceal or palliate his blemishes, as a man.
It equally concerns the public to be made acquainted
with both.

Sir Nicholas Bacon was the first lord Keeper of

the seals invested with all the dignity, and trusted

with all the power, of a lord Chancellor. This

high employment he held under queen Elizabeth

VOL. i. b

ii 'The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

near twenty years : a minister considerably learned,
of remarkable prudence and honesty ; serving his
country with the integrity of a good man, and pre-
serving, through the whole course of his prosperity,
that moderation and plainness of manners which
adorn a great man. His second wife was a daughter
of Sir Antony Cooke, who had been preceptor to
Edward the sixth, and of whom historians have made
honorable mention for his skill in the learned lan-
guages. Neither have they forgot to celebrate this
Parsons lacty on the same account. To the truth of which
the Jesuit, even an enemy bore testimony, while he reproached
her with having translated, from the latin, bishop
Jewel's Apology for the church of England.

Such were the parents of Francis Bacon, whose
life I am writing. Of two sons, by this marriage,
he was the youngest : and born at York-house, in the
Strand, the twenty-second of January, 1561. As he
had the good fortune to come into the world at a
period of time when arts and sciences were esteemed
and cultivated, by the great and powerful, almost in
the same degree they are now neglected ; so he
brought with him a capacity for every kind of know-
ledge, useful and ornamental. An original genius,
formed not to receive implicit notions of think-
ing and reasoning from what was admitted and
taught before him; but to prescribe laws himself, in
the empire of learning, to his own and succeeding
ages.

He gave marks, very early, of a pregnant and
happy disposition, far above his years. We are told
that queen Elizabeth took a particular delight in
trying him with questions ; and received so much
satisfaction from the good sense and manliness of his
answers, that she was wont to call him, in mirth, her
young lord keeper. One saying of his deserves to
be remembered. The queen having asked him his
age, while he was yet a boy ; he answered readily, that
he was just two years younger than her happy reign.

Of his education I know no particulars, till he
was sent to study in the university of Cambridge,

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. iii

under Doctor Whitgift, afterwards archbishop of Can-
terbury: and I find he was entered of Trinity college 16thnf e

i • ' iri TM i b June 1 J73.

in his twelfth year. Ihe progress he made was ra-
pid and uncommon : for he had run through the
whole circle of the liberal arts, as they were then
taught, before he was sixteen. But what is far more
surprising ; he began, even then, to see through the
emptiness and futility of the philosophy in vogue :
and to conjecture, that useful knowledge must be
raised on other foundations, and built up with other
materials, than had been employed through a tract
of many centuries backward. In this, his own ge-
nius, aided by a singular discernment, must have been
his only preceptor. In matters of reasoning, the
authority of Aristotle was still acknowledged in-
fallible in the schools ; as much as that of the
pope, in affairs of religion, had lately been acknow-
ledged there and every where else. And our au-
thor may be justly styled the first great reformer of
philosophy. He had the prepossessions, the volumi-
nous and useless reading, nay he had the vanity of
men grown old in contrary opinions, to struggle with :
yet he lived to see a considerable revolution on his
side. Another age brought over the learned of all *
nations to his party.

It may be justly wondered at, that the lord
Keeper, a minister of great observation on men and
things, should have sent his son to travel at the age of
sixteen ; as we find he did : for, by a letter from Sir
Amias Powlet, then ambassador in France, it is cer-
tain that young Bacon was at Paris, and under his
roof, in the year 1577. We need but look around
us, to be convinced how little our youth of quality,
who visit foreign countries about that age, are wont
to profit either in taste, wisdom, or morals. But
perhaps he discovered in his son a maturity of discre-
tion and judgment beyond what is common to that
early season of life. However that was, the am-
bassador conceived a very favourable opinion of
Bacon ; for he sent him over to the queen with a
commission that required secrecy and dispatch: of

b2

iv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

which he acquitted himself with applause, and then
returned to finish his travels. The native bent of his
mind, strongly turned to reflection and inquiry, suf-
fered him not to stop short at the study of languages,
but led him higher, to remark accurately on the cus-
toms and manners of those that spoke them ; on the
characters of their princes, and on the constitution
of their several governments. In proof of this, there
is still extant among his works, a paper of observa-
tions on the general state of Europe, written by him
shortly after this time ; as I have discovered by a
circumstance mentioned in it*.

He was the youngest son, and seems to have been
the favorite of his father ; who had set apart a consi^
clerable sum of money to purchase an estate for him,
in his absence. But before that kind intention could
take effect, the lord Keeper died suddenly, by the fol-
lowing accident. He was under the hands of his bar-
ber, and, the weather being warmer than usual, had
ordered a window before him to be thrown open.
As he was become very corpulent, he presently fell
asleep in the current of fresh air that was blowing in
upon him; and awaked after some time distempered
all over. Why, said he to the servant, did you suffer
me to sleep thus exposed? The fellow replied, that
he durst not presume to disturb him. Then said the
]ord Keeper, By your civility I lose my life; and so
removed into his bed-chamber, where he died a few
clays after. Thus there remained to his youngest son
only the small proportion of a sum, which was to
be divided among five brothers.

The narrowness of his circumstances obliged him
to think of some profession for a subsistence: and
he applied himself, more through necessity, than
choice, to the study of the common law. For that
purpose, he placed himself in the society of Gray's
Inn;, where his superior talents rendered 'him the or-

* He says that Hcnrv III. of France was then 30 years old:
now that king began his reign in 1574, at the age of 24 years.
,s>o dial Bacon wag then nineteen.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

nament of the house: as the gentleness and affa-
bility of his deportment won him the affection of
all its members. In his profession, he quickly rose
to so much eminence and reputation, that, at the age
of twenty-eight years, he was named by Elizabeth her
learned council extraordinary : a distinction which he
needed no assistance from his father's merit with her
to deserve. It was however next to impossible that so
noble a genius, born to embrace the whole compass
of science, should confine its researches within the
narrow and perplexed study of precedents and au-
thorities; a study hedged round -with brambles and
thorns, dark and barbarous in its beginnings, and ren-
dered in its progress still more obscure, by the learned
dulness of commentators and compilers : men, for the
most part, of indefatigable industry , and of no spirit
or discernment. Accordingly we find that in this
interval he often gave full scope to his conceptions ;
surveying the whole state of learning, observing its
defects, and imagining the proper methods to supply
them. This he first attempted in a treatise which he
intitled THE GREATEST BIRTH OF TIME; as appears
from a letter written after his retirement, to father
Fulgentio, the Venetian, in which he passes a kind
of censure on the pompous and swelling title pre-
fixed to it. Though the piece itself is lost, it ap-
pears to have been the first outlines of that amazing
design, which he afterwards filled up and finished in
his grand Instauration of the sciences. As there is not
a more amusing, perhaps a more useful speculation,
than that of tracing the history of the human mind,
if I may so express myself, in its progression from
truth to truth, and from discovery to discovery; the
intelligent reader would doubtless have been pleased
to see, in the tract I am speaking of, by what steps
and gradations a spirit like Bacon's advanced in
building up, for more than thirty years together,
his new and universal theory. He thought him-
self born for the use of human kind : and, in the
letter above mentioned, styles himself the servant of
posterity.

vi The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon..

These few hints for filling up this first part of our
author's life, trivial and unsatisfactory as they may ap-
pear, I have yet been obliged to glean here and there
in the rubbish of several collections, where they lay
scattered, without order or connection. But I shall
now no longer regard Bacon as a mere philosopher; as
a man of speculation who conversed only with books
and his own thoughts in the shade of retirement and
leisure. The course of his fortunes produced him on
the great theatre of the world, involved him in business,
and complicated him with the most considerable per-
sons of the age he lived in. He was honorably em-
ployed by one prince, and highly preferred under
another. It will be therefore necessary, that this
history may have its due extent and usefulness, to
exhibit a general prospect of the two reigns in which
Bacon flourished and fell, at least in their principal
points of view. The characters of those with whom he
had any connection will illustrate his, and shew it
in a truer, as well as a fuller light.

I have yet another reason for enlarging this ac-
count beyond the ordinary limits. Our author's let-
ters are written, many of them at least, on public
occasions, and may be considered as the most au-
thentic vouchers for several remarkable occurrences,
in which he himself was an actor, and well ac-
quainted with the secret motives on which others
acted. But as those things are for the most part
only hinted at, or no farther opened than to serve
the present purpose of his letter ; they will require
to be developed at some length, and ranged into
their proper places.

Elizabeth had a larger share of good sense and
sound judgment, than is commonly to be met with
among wornen ; accompanied" with a greatness of
mind and steadiness of purpose that might do honor
to the best of men. These her natural endow-
ments received, much, though severe, improvement
from the dangers she was exposed to in the first
part of her life. She grew up in a strict attention
over her own actions, even over her looks and

The Life of the Lord Chancellor 'Bacon.

words, from the rigor of her father's temper, and
particularly from the jealous cruelty of her sister's
administration : a short but memorable period of
time ! when England beheld, under a female reign,
such instances of merciless rage, such scenes of
horror, as had of old startled the Roman world, under
a Nero and a Domitian. The dreadful genius of
that superstition to which she had devoted herself,
then exerted its spirit undisguised, in betraying, tor-
menting, butchering, by the ministry of inhuman
priests and inquisitors, whoever would not profess
what he could not possibly believe. If we may credit
historians, they had even doomed Elizabeth herself
to die: and she" escaped, miraculously, not by the
kindness, but the policy of Philip •> himself a tyrant,
the coolest and most determined of these latter
ages.

At her accession to the throne, she found her reve-
nues anticipated or exhausted; her kingdom, through
the sanguinary madness of her predecessor, disjointed
and broken of its vigor within ; at the same time un-
supported by allies and without consideration abroad.
Her good sense led her to see, by the errors of her
father and her sister, that she could expect to reign
with security, only by deserving the confidence and
gaining the love of the nation : and that in order
thereto, she must propose to herself no other end of
ruling but the happiness and honor of all her people.
This system of policy, so simple in itself, so glorious
in its consequences, and yet by princes so seldom
pursued, she adhered to steadily, almost uniformly,
through a long and triumphant reign; for this very
reason triumphant!

The reformation of religion she attempted and
effected, at a season when her power was uncon-
firmed, and in probable danger from intestine com-
motions. For revolutions in religion are apt to put
the whole constitution of a society into ferment, even
more strongly than alterations in government ; as
every individual is immediately and intimately actu-
ated by what seems to him of highest and most last-

viii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

ing concern. She kept awake, and animated, with
wonderful address, the divisions in Scotland, in
France, in the Netherlands : and that with more
justice on her part, than is usually observed by
princes when they would do ill offices to their neigh-
bours. The sovereigns of those countries, when they
agreed in nothing else, were ever combined in a
common enmity to her : at a time too when she had
nothing to oppose against their pretensions, their
conspiracies, their open attacks, but her own courage
and the native strength of England alone. And yet,
by helping forward the reformation in Scotland ; by
supporting the protestants in France ; by the wise
and well-managed supplies she sent to the Dutch,
who were struggling hard for their lives and liberties
with an unrelenting tyrant : by this series of conduct,
steadily pursued, she triumphed over all opposition,
and rendered herself the arbitress of Europe. For it
may be affirmed, that her administration made a
greater impression on all the states round her, than
it received itself from any : an undoubted proof of
its firmness and active vigor.

When she came to the crown, she found the nation
four millions in debt : a sum then almost incredible !
and yet her economy alone enabled her to discharge
it. The coin, which had been much embased by
Henry the eighth, and by Mary wholly neglected,
she quickly restored to its just standard ; and there-
with the public faith and credit. Her magazines she
carefully replenished with arms, ammunition, war-
like stores of every kind : and the youth all over
England were ordered to be duly trained in military
exercises. Her navy was fallen to decay, and almost
abandoned. This she set herself to repair with an
attention, which the great bulwark of this kingdom
will ever deserve from a prince, who understands in
what his own strength and that of his dominions
naturally consist. Her fleet was at last a match for
the mighty armada of Spain :, that armada, which
was boasted to be invincible, and was in truth a
desperate effort of the whole power and resentment

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. ix

of her bitterest enemy. Her victory over him, as
intire, as it was glorious, gave security and renown
to this island : and, whatever the partiality of foreign
writers may have insinuated to the contrary, she
owed it to her own heroical conduct, and the un*
exampied bravery of her subjects.

She was the first of our princes who pursued, in
any considerable degree, the only sure method of
making England great and powerful ; by encou-
raging and extending our commerce ; which, under
her protection, grew high, and spread itself through
the North, and to both the Indies. In a word, such
was her conduct, such her good fortune, in this island
and on the continent, that her allies had the strongest
confidence in her assistance and good faith : that her
enemies stood in awe of her power, and were forced
to an unwilling approbation of her prudence. The
applause of such as think they have cause to hate,
and distress us, is the sincerest, as it is the noblest
praise. Her economy was admirable. She hus-
banded the public money for her people's ease : she
laid it out, on proper occasions, for their safety and
honor. The undertakings of the government were
never greater; the charge was never .less. This
gives the highest idea of her ministry, and places
their characters, in general, above imputation or
reproach.

Of Sir Nicholas Bacon, our author's father, I have
already given some account : and shall only add here,
that he never aspired beyond the rank he brought
with him to court. His moderation in all other
respects was the same. When the queen visited
him at his seat in Hertfordshire, she told him with
an air of pleasantry, that his house was too little for
him. No, replied the lord Keeper; but your majesty
has made me too great for my house.

Walsingham, in his private character, was of un-
blemished honesty. As a minister he had singular
sagacity in procuring intelligence ; which he knew
to apply, with great dexterity, to the purposes of
government: devoting himself, with so generous a

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

self-neglect, to the service of his country, that he
gained a reputation for contempt of riches, which
would have been highly reverenced in the best times
of antiquity ; and will go near in these days, to be
thought either folly or frenzy.

The lord treasurer Burleigh, for his consummate
abilities as a statesman, was reckoned the first name
of his age : and is still pointed out as a pattern,
which we rather wish, than expect, to see fully
copied by his successors in power. As he had strong
natural parts, and was of unwearied application to
business, his experience must have been universal
and unequalled 5 for he was at the head of the
government almost forty years. He seems, in par-
ticular, to have been eminently possessed of that
intrepidity of head, that civil courage, so necessary
in a great minister : and without which no minister
will ever do any thing truly noble, or of lasting
utility to mankind. Inviolably attached to his
mistress, he served her with equal fidelity and suc-
cess : and had the singular felicity to promote the
good of his country by the same arts that he em-
ployed to gratify the inclinations of his sovereign.

The glory of this princess will receive a new
lustre by comparing the state of England with that
of almost all other nations in Europe, at the same
time. It must have been no common addition to
the tranquillity and happiness of our ancestors, that
they enjoyed both uninterrupted, for such a length
of years ; while Scotland and France, Spain and
Holland, were torn with continual divisions, and
bleeding by the wounds of foreign and domestic
wars. Her's too was the age of heroes both in arts
and arms. Great captains, able statesmen, writers
of the highest order arose, and under her influence
flourished together. Thus Bacon had all the incen-
tives that could kindle him up to a generous ambi-
tion, and quicken his emulation in the pursuit of
knowledge and honest fame. And indeed his letters
remain a proof, that if he courted the proper oppor-
tunities of raising his name, he lost none that might

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xi

improve and enlarge his mind. As the lord treasurer ?,ac,onI>,r

ii> /••••• r . « . Vol. III.

had married his aunt, we hnd him frequent in his Letter vii.
applications to that minister for some place of credit
and service in the state. He professes too, that his
views on this head are as moderate, as his aims ano-
ther way are ambitious and vast; for that he hath
taken all philosophy for his province. My lord
Burleigh interested himself so far on his behalf as
to procure for him, against violent opposition, the
office of register to the Star-chamber, worth about
16001. a year : but it was only in reversion, and did
not fall to him till near twenty years afterwards.
Neither did he obtain any other preferment all this
reign : though his winning address, his eloquence,
his large and systematical learning had raised him
to the admiration of the greatest men at court. lie
was particularly esteemed and patronized by Robert
Devereux, the famous and unfortunate earl of Essex ;
to whom he attached himself in his younger years,
and by whose interest in the queen he flattered him-
self with the prospect of bettering his condition.
Elizabeth herself shewed him several marks of dis-
tinction, admitted him often to her presence, and
even consulted him on the state of her affairs : as
her ministers sometimes made use of his pen in the
vindication of her government. And yet, notwith^
standing these fair appearances, he met with no
preferment from that queen answerable to the idea
we have of his merit, or her discernment in the
distribution of favors. This deserves some expla-
nation ; as it will discover to us the true genius of
those ministers, who, pretending to merit themselves,
are jealous of it in all other men : who are equally
poor-spirited and aspiring.

The whole court was at this time rent into fac-
tions, headed on one part by the earl of Essex ;
on the other by the Cecils, father and son. Essex
was then in all the flower of his youth, and re-
markable for the gracefulness of his person. In his
nature brave, ambitious, popular : and what is un-
common, at once the favorite of the sovereign and of

xii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

the nation. Fond of military glory ; liberal to pro-
fusion ; devoted intirely to his friends, and keeping
no measures with his enemies ; of competent learn-
ing himself, and a signal benefactor to learned men.
One quality he had, which distinguishes him emi-
nently from such as are personally beloved by
princes : in the height of his favor he received the
admonitions, the remonstrances of his friends with
all gentleness ; and was ever most patient of the
truth. But then he wanted those arts which are
most necessary in a courtier; and are indeed the
only qualities which the rabble of courtiers value
themselves upon ; -circumspection, cunning, affec-
tation of secresy, with a servile obsequiousness to
the humours of their superiors, and a mean but
anxious attention to their own interest, whether at
the expence of their patrons, or of their country. A
different turn of mind gave the earl's enemies great
advantages against him. They failed not to repre-
sent to the queen, on several occasions, that this
young lord, not satisfied with the distinction of being
her favorite, pretended to be her master ; and pre-
scribed to her judgment on affairs of state, with a
haughtiness ill becoming the distance betwixt a
sovereign and the creature of her bounty. Such in-
sinuations, as they were partly true, could not fail of
making an impression on Elizabeth, who was natu-
rally high-spirited, and infinitely jealous of her
authority. Though she had a particular fondness for
the earl, she took occasion every now and then to
mortify his pride, by refusing to advance those friends
of his whom he recommended for preferment. After
his return from the expedition to Cadiz, in which he
had behaved himself with much gallantry, she raised
his enemy, Sir Robert Cecil, to be secretary of state ;
tho* he had earnestly solicited that post for another.
He had often applied to her in behalf of Bacon, and
asked for him, with all the warmth of friendship,
the place of Solicitor General, but had been always
refused. Cecil, who mortally hated Essex, and had
entertained a secret jealousy of Bacon, on account

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xiii

of his superior talents, represented the latter to the
queen as a man of mere speculation ; as one wholly
given up to philosophical inquiries, new indeed and
amusing, but fanciful and unsolid : and therefore
more likely to distract her affairs, than to serve her
usefully and with proper judgment. Bacon however
was this man's cousin-german ; his father and the
lord Burleigh having married two sisters : but ambi-
tion knows neither merit nor relation. This un-
worthy treatment from so near a kinsman carried
Bacon into very free expostulations on his courtly
artifices, as he endeavoured in secret to crush the
man whom yet he pretended openly to serve : and
these repeated disappointments sunk so deep into his
spirit, that he was several times on the point of re-
tiring for ever, and even of hiding his grief and
resentment in some foreign country. Essex, who
could but ill brook the mortification of a denial,
finding himself unable to serve his friend in a public
way, would needs make up the loss to him out of
his own private fortune : and if we may believe
Bushel, he bestowed upon him about this time j^Jc1'*
Twickenham-Park and its garden of Paradise. Whe- post. p. i.
ther it was that or some other of his lands, the
donation was so very considerable, that Bacon, as
himself acknowledges in his Apology, sold it after-
wards, even at an under price, for no less than
eighteen hundred pounds. A bounty so noble, ac-
companied too, as we know it was, with all those
agreeable distinctions that to a mind, delicately
sensible, are more obliging than the bounty itself,
must kindle in the breast of a good man the most
ardent sentiments of gratitude, and create an in-
violable attachment to such a benefactor. What
then are we to think of Bacon, when we find him,
after this nobleman's unhappy fate, publishing to all
England a Declaration of the treasons of Robert earl
of Essex? This behaviour drew upon him a heavy
and general hatred at that time ; which was not
extinguished even by his death, out continues still,
in the writings of more than one historian, an in>

xiv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

putation on his memory. As this transaction is of
importance to his moral character, I will lay it be-
fore the reader as impartially as I can.

Elizabeth had raised that young lord, through a
series of honors, to be earl Marshal of England : and
was every day giving him new proofs of a particular
and uncommon esteem. This only served to ex-
asperate his enemies. They were powerful, and
closely united. But as they durst not attack him
openly, they had recourse to dark and surer arts of
vengeance; against which his openness of temper,
unsuspecting and improvident, was no wise guarded.
In truth, his imperious humor, which he could
seldom disguise, aided their designs ; for it often
broke forth into downright abuse and scorn of those
who thwarted his projects, or dissented from his
opinions : and he once, in some dispute with the
Queen herself, turned his back abruptly upon her
with all the marks of disrespect and contempt.
Provoked at this insolence, Elizabeth forgetting her
sex, and the dignity of her character, struck the earl
a box on the ear: which he on his part, with a
meanness of passion yet less excusable in a man,
resented so highly as to lay his hand on his sword,
against a woman and his sovereign. No subsequent
favors could wear this imaginary affront out or his
memory ; though she pardoned him the insult that
occasioned it, and sent him shortly after into Ireland,
as her vicegerent, with a commission almost unli-
mited. His conduct there has not escaped the cen-
sure of historians, who have remarked severely on
the unjustifiable treaty he made with the arch-rebel
Tyrone, on the private conference they held toge-
ther, and on his precipitate return to England,
against the queen's express orders. This last ill step
QCLiizf ke was betrayed into, if we may believe Osborn, by
p.* 45ft. an artifice of Cecil: who first inflamed Elizabeth's
suspicions of the earl, and then stopped all vessels
that were to sail for Ireland, except one, which he
ordered thither on purpose with a feigned report of
her death. Fatally deceived by this intelligence,

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Baco?i. xv

Essex sailed away in a hurry for England, attended
only by a few of bis friends. The queen received
him without any emotion either of anger or affec-
tion, and having confined him to* his own house,
ordered his conduct to be examined in the Star-
Chamber. At this usage of him, however gracious
and moderate, the people, whose idol he was, loudly
exclaimed : and their unseasonable partiality, re-
presented by his adversaries as of dangerous ten-
dency to the state, kindled anew the queen's indig-
nation against him. Thus that popularity he had so
eagerly courted, and so much depended upon, served
now only to hasten forward his destruction. He was
sentenced by the council to be removed from his
place at that board ; to be suspended from his offices
of earl Marshal and Master of the ordnance, and to
be imprisoned during the queen's pleasure. Having
humbled him thus far, she stopped short, forbidding
his sentence to be entered on record, and still con-
tinuing him Master of the horse. She even gave
him the full enjoyment of his liberty, upon his ex-
pressing a perfect resignation to her pleasure ; but
withal advised him to be his own keeper. His seem-
ing repentance was of short duration ; for upon the
queen's refusal to grant him the farm of sweet wines,
which he had very imprudently petitioned for, he
returned out of the country, and again abandoned
himself to all the impetuosity of his temper; or
rather to the pernicious suggestions of his followers.
Indeed the presumption that naturally grows out of
successful ambition, and the interested counsels of
those whose fortunes were involved with his, seem
to have mtirely turned his head : for his actions
henceforward were the genuine effects of frenzy and
despair. In conjunction with his friends, of several
conditions, he meditated no less an attempt than to
seize on the palace, to make himself master of the
queen's person, and to banish from about her all
those whom he reputed his enemies. Never was
conspiracy so^ill laid, or conducted with so little
probability of success. The court was presently

xvi The Life of the Lord Chancellor Sacon.

alarmed, his house invested, himself and his friends
made prisoners, without any resistance on his part 5
for though he was embarked in a kind of rebellion,
state Tri. ne knew not how to be a rebel. The particulars of
ais, vol. i. his trial are foreign to my purpose. It was managed
p' ~Uj' against him by Sir Edward Coke, the attorney gene-
ral, and by Bacon as one of the queen's council. It
ought not to be forgot that the former treated this
unfortunate nobleman with a strain of petulant dulness
and scurrility that makes us contemn his talent as
a pleader wrhile we abhor the purpose to which he
made it subservient. Bacon was moderate and de-
cent. The crime was proved by a cloud of witnesses :
and the unanimous suffrage of his peers found him
guilty. After his sentence he appeared wholly indif-
ferent to life or death : though the queen seemed still
irresolute, or rather inclining to save him. He died
with the tenderness of a penitent, and the firmness
of a hero: though the marshal de Biron jested on
his deportment in that last scene of life, as suiting"
rather a monk than a soldier.

The untimely fate of this nobleman, who died on
a scaffold in the prime and vigor of his years, excited
universal pity, and was murmured against by all con-
ditions of people. Their reflections on the prevail-
ing party at court, even on the queen herself, were
so bold and injurious, that the administration thought
it necessary to vindicate their conduct in a public
v. A de- appeal to the people. This task was assigned to

clarat. of -T i • i • i r i •

the trea- ISacon, even then in high esteem tor his excellencies
SRoh°iari as a wr^er- Some say it was by his enemies insidi-
ot Essex, ously imposed on him, to divert the national re-
Vol. in. sentment from themselves upon a particular person,
who was known to have lived in friendship with Essex,
and whom they intended to ruin in the public
esteem. If such was their intention, they succeeded
but too well in it. Never man incurred more uni-
versal or more lasting censure than Bacon by this
writing. He was every where traduced as one who
endeavoured to murder the good name of his bene-
factor, after the ministry had destroyed his person:

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xvii

his life was even threatened ; and he went in daily
hazard of assassination. This obliged him to publish,
in his own defence, the Apology we find among
his writings. It is long and elaborate; but not,
perhaps, in every part satisfactory. Let us believe Apology,
him on his own testimony, that he had never done ^°LI11-
that nobleman any ill offices with the queen ; though
she herself had, it seems, insinuated the contrary :
that on the other hand he had always, during the
time of their intimacy, given him advice no less
useful than sincere ; that he had wished, nay en-
deavoured the earl's preservation even at last, purely
from affection to him, without any regard to his own
interest in that endeavour : let all this be allowed ;
some blemish will still remain on his character.

Essex deserved the fate he underwent : but he
had paid his debt to justice : and the commonwealth
had now nothing to fear from any of his party.
The declaration above mentioned could therefore be
intended, only to still the present clamors of the
multitude ; and though the matter of it might be
true, Bacon was not the man who should have pub-
lished those truths. He had been long and highly
indebted to the earl's friendship, almost beyond the
example even of that age. In another man this
proceeding might not have been blameable : in him
it cannot be excused. In the next reign Sir Henry AUI.CO-
Yelverton ventured on the displeasure both of the iui>p-186>
king and his minion, rather than do the ministry of
his office, by pleading against the earl of Somerset,
who had made him solicitor general. Had Bacon
refused that invidious part, there were others, among
the herd of aspiring and officious lawyers, ready
enough to have performed it : and his very enemies
must have thought more advantageously of him for
declining a task, in itself of no essential import-
ance to the state, and in him unjust to friendship,
obligation, gratitude, the most sacred regards among
men.

Elizabeth survived her favorite about a year : and, Osbom,
if we may credit Osborn, grief and remorse for his p' 459>

VOL i.

xviii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

th* ?mis ^ate accomParned ner to the grave*. She died the
author ' twenty-fourth of March, 1603, in the fulness of days
who men. and honor. Her re*i£ni had been Ion": and triumph-

tions the 1111^ i *? r •

story of ant : and she had through the whole course or it

the rmg. preserved, what she so justly merited, the love and

veneration of her people ; the truest glory, the rarest

1603. felicity of a sovereign ! She was succeeded by James

the sixth of Scotland, under whom Bacon ascended,

by several steps, to the highest dignity of the law.

This prince, the most un warlike that ever lived,
was born in the midst of civil commotions; at a
time when his whole kingdom was torn into factions,
betwixt the party who had espoused the interests of
his mother, and those who had declared for him.
After he had taken the administration into his own
hands, he was hardly ever his own master ; suffering
himself to be led implicitly by the cabal in whose
power he then happened to be. The moment he
thought himself at liberty from either, like a boy
escaped from under the eye of a rigid preceptor, he
forgot all his uneasinesses, and abandoned himself
to his favorite amusements of hawking and hunting,
as if his kingdom had been in the profoundest tran-
quillity. He grew up in an unaccountable fondness
for favorites. The first, who took deep root with
him, was likewise the worst; not only encouraging
him in a total inapplication to business, but tinctur-
ing his youth with the poison of all debauchery.
Mem'1'8 name of this man was Stuart, afterwards earl

P. i3i. of Arran ; one who had great and dangerous vices,
without a single virtue, private or public, to atone
for them : an open scoffer at the obligations of
morality, insolent, rapacious, sanguinary, hated by,
and hating, all good men. The honester part of the
nobility often remonstrated against the credit and
pernicious influence of this minion : James acknow-
ledged the justice of their remonstrances ; banished
him several times from court ; and several times
Mehii, received him into new favor. He was at length shot
P. 200. by a private hand in revenge for the death of the
carl of Morton, to which he had basely contributed.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xix

James hated the church of Scotland ; and con- Meivii,
firmed its authority. He declared the attempt of p> 132'
those lords, who had rescued him out of the hands
of Arran and Lenox, to be just and serviceable : he
afterwards banished them, and would have confis- p. 139.
cated their estates, on that very account. When they
had made themselves masters of his person a second
time, he pronounced them all traitors -3 and pardoned p. 159.
them.

Elizabeth, who knew his genius perfectly, sent
Mr. Wotton on an embassy to him in 1585. Her
intention was to divert him from a marriage with the .
princess of Denmark, and to give his counsels what
other turn her interests might require. The ambassa-
dor, a man of address and intrigue, had, by long ha-
bitude, learnt to personate all characters, and to as-
sume, with an ease that seemed altogether unaffected,
whatever shape might serve most effectually the pur-
poses of his superiors. At the age of twenty-one P. ieu
he had been employed to sound the intentions of the
court of France : and had well nigh duped the famous
constable de Montmorency^, a minister grown grey in
the observation of human falsehood and artifice. To
his natural talent he had now added the experience
of thirty years more. By accompanying King James
in his sports ; by falling in frankly, and as it were na-
turally, with all his passions ; by making a jest of
business ; by entertaining him pleasantly with an ac-
count of foreign fashions and follies; this man gained
an absolute ascendant not only over his understand-
ing, but over his humour. His most faithful subjects,
who had served him longest and best, who had even
warned him against the subtleties of this stranger, he
received with approbation or dislike just as Wotton
inspired him. He was even brought by him to be se- p. 154.
riously persuaded that the king of Denmark was
descended from a race of merchants, and that an al-
liance with his daughter was therefore infinitely be-
neath a king of Scotland's dignity.

Such was the prince who now mounted that throne, An 1603>
which Elizabeth had filled with so great capacity and v**%— -^

c 2

xx The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

reputation. The union of the two crowns in the
person of one sovereign, was extremely dreaded by
foreigners, and in particular by Henry the fourth of
France. The accession of a new kingdom to the
native force of England, which even alone had been
long formidable on the continent; the alliance of
James with the most potent monarch of the North ;
his relation to the house of Lorrain, which had lately
embroiled all France, rendered such fears very pro-
bable. But his conduct dissipated them for ever : and
all Europe quickly saw, that no people but his own
had anything to apprehend from his power. At his
arrival in England, he bestowed titles and honours
with so wild a profusion, that there hardly remained
any other mark of distinction but that of having
wiison, escaped them. The public stood amazed : and pas-
quinades were openly affixed, undertaking to assist
weaker memories to a competent knowledge of the
nobility. Sir Francis Bacon, who had been early in
his homage, and application for favour, to the new
sovereign, was knighted by him in person : and has
left us the following picture of him, strongly touched
voiolv *n ^s mos^: obvious features. " His speech," says he,
Letter ' " is swift and cursory ; and in the full dialect of his
fc country : in matters of business, short ; in general
" discourse, large. He affecteth popularity, by gracing
" such as he hath heard to be popular ; not by any
" fashions of his own. He is thought somewhat ge-
" neral in his favours ; and his easiness of access is
" rather because he is much abroad and in a crowd,
" than that he giveth easy audience. He hasteneth
" to a mixture of both kingdoms and occasions faster,
" perhaps, than policy will well bear.'*
ico5. jn 16O5, Sir Francis Bacon recommended himself
to the king's particular notice, as well as to the ge-
neral esteem of his cotemporaries, by publishing a
' work he had long meditated ; The Progress and Ad-
vancement of Learning. The great aim of this treatise,
no less original in the design than happy in the exe-
cution, was to survey accurately the whole state and
extent of the intellectual world 5 what parts of it had

LXXIIJ.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxi

been unsuccessfully cultivated ; what lay still neg-
lected, or unknown ; and by what methods these
might be discovered ; and those improved to the
farther advantage of society and human nature. By
exposing the errors and imperfections of our know-
ledge, he led mankind into the only right way of sup-
plying the one, and reforming the other : he taught
them to know their wants. He even went farther,
and himself pointed out to them the general methods
of correction and improvement in the whole circle of
arts and sciences. This work he first published in Tennison s
English : but to render it of more extensive use, he p.a2C5°.ma
recommended a translation of it into Latin to Dr.
Playfer of Cambridge. Playfer, with the scrupulous
accuracy of a grammarian, was more attentive to
fashion his style to purity and roundness of periods,
made out of the phraseology he had gleaned from
classic writers, than to render his author's meaning in
clear and masculine language. After the sight of a
specimen or two, Sir Francis did not encourage him
to proceed in it. He himself, after his retirement,
very much enlarged and corrected the original, and
with the assistance of some friends, turned the whole
into Latin. This is the edition of 1623 -, and stands P27,
as the first part to his great Instauration of the
Sciences.

I have already observed that Cecil, now earl of
Salisbury, opposed the progress of our author's for-
tune under Elizabeth : and he seems to have ob-
served the same conduct towards him in the present
reign, till he had fixed himself in the king's con-
fidence so firmly as to be above all fear of a rival.
Besides him, Sir Francis Bacon found a violent and
lasting enemy in a man of his own profession, Sir
Edward Coke ; who, with great parts, had many and stephems
signal failings. The quarrel betwixt them seems to '
have been personal : and it lasted to the end of
their lives. Coke was jealous of Bacon's reputation
in many parts of knowledge : by whom, again, he
was envied for the high reputation he had acquired
in one ; each aiming to be admired, particularly,

xxii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon,

for that in which the other excelled. This affec-
tation in two extraordinary men has something in
it very mean, and is not uncommon. The former
was the greatest lawyer of his time ; but could be
nothing more. If the latter was not so, we can
ascribe it only to his aiming at a more exalted cha-
racter. The universality of his genius could not be
confined within one inferior province of learning,
If learning thus divided is not so proper to raise a
singular name in one way, it serves to enlarge the
understanding on every side, and to enlighten it in
all its views. As the name of Sir Edward Coke will
occur oftner than once in this history, and as he
stood in particular competition to Bacon, I beg leave
to dwell a little longer on his character. In his
state Tri- pleadings he was apt to insult over misery. Of
als<>07°&c' *^S we have a detestable instance in his behaviour
" to Sir Walter Raleigh. He inveighed against that
brave man on his trial with all the bitterness of
cruelty, and in a style of such abandoned railing as
bordered almost on fury : I wish I could not add,
that this bitterness, this intemperance of tongue,
seem to be the genuine effusions of his heart*. He
conversed, it seems, more with books than men ;
and ampng the latter, with those only to whom he
could dictate and give the law.' The consequence
of which was, that his conversation had all the air
of a lecture j and that he retailed for new, a hun-
dred stories that were either stale or trivial. He
affected raillery, which was by no means his talent.
His wit was often ill aimed, as it was always in-
delicate and vulgar ; the rough horse-play of a pe-
dant. Though he had accumulated immense wealth,

* The offices of Attorney and Solicitor General have been rocks
upon which many aspiring lawyers have made shipwreck of their
virtue and human nature. Some of those gentlemen have acted at
the bar as if they thought themselves, by the duty of their places,
absolved frpm all the obligations of truth, honor, and decency. But
their names are upon record, and will be transmitted to after ages
"with those characters of reproach and abhorrence that are due to.
the worst sort of murderers j those that murder under the sanction
of justice, \

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxiii

in his profession and by several rich marriages, he
was of a sordid avarice ; a severe master, a griping
landlord ; in prosperity insolent, dejected and fawn-
ing in adversity: the same poorness of spirit influenc-
ing his behaviour in both conditions. One example
of this may serve in place of several : after his dis-
grace, he submissively courted Buckingham's brother
to a match with his daughter : in the height of his
favor, he had rejected the same proposal with scorn.
His profound skill in the common law has been uni-
versally allowed : and to this we cannot have a more
unquestionable witness than Sir Francis Bacon ; one state Tr.
every way fit to judge, and an enemy. He was Vo^'
raised to be Chief Justice of the Common Pleas in P
1606, and of the King's Bench in 1613. On the
bench he was above corruption : and had this saying
frequently in his mouth, that a judge should neither
give nor take a bribe. In the case of Peacham, in
the business of Commendams, he behaved himself Letter '
with the honesty and firmness of one who knew that CXLT-
a judge ought neither to be flattered nor menaced out
of his integrity. Towards the latter part of his life,
he struck in with the country party in parliament, and
stood in the breach against the arbitrary measures of
James and Charles. He died in the reign of the
latter, aged 88 years.

At length Sir Francis Bacon obtained the place he
had so long expected: and in 1607 was declared
Solicitor General. This preferment was the effect of An*
many letters and much instance on his part, to the
earl of Salisbury, the lord chancellor Egerton, and
the king himself. Neither do I find that he was ever
promoted to any post without repeated and earnest
application to ministers and favorites : a reflection
that may serve at once to mortify and instruct an am-
bitious man of parts.

James had, from the beginning of his reign, pas-
sionately desired an union of Scotland and England :
but his unreasonable partiality to the former, reckoning
it as an equal half of the island, rendered the design
abortive. Though Sir Francis Bacon labored this argu-

xxiv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

ment with all the arts of wit and reason, his elo-
quence, powerful as it was, had no effect on the
house of commons. The parliament even shewed
itself averse to this union, in proportion as the court
appeared zealous for it. The new sovereign's con-
duct had alarmed them. They saw that, with a
strong disposition to be profuse, he was absolutely in
the power of favorites; and that some of the least
valuable among his subjects were most in his favor.
They saw farther, that he began already to propagate
maxims of government destructive to liberty, and
inconsistent with the whole tenor of the constitution.
These things filled observing men with apprehensions
for the future, which unhappily were but too well
founded. The whole sum of his politics, both now
and afterwards, was to distaste and alienate his sub-
jects at home ; to dishonor both himself and them
abroad. It was a reign of embassies and negotiations,
alike fruitless and expensive : a reign of favorites and
proclamations, of idle amusements and arbitrary im-
positions. It was besides the great era of flattery.
The ancient national simplicity of manners which
ever accompanies magnanimity, and manly freedom
of speech the noble effect of both, were now in a
great measure lost ; altered and effeminated into pro-
stitute adulation and servile homage. This was be*
come the fashionable language among the clergy as
well as laity, and James heard himself daily ad-
dressed to, by the titles of sacred and divine : titles
which discover the meanness rather than the dignity
of human nature ; and which, applied to him, were
glaringly ridiculous. He had not one princely qua-
lity. The arts of governing a kingdom in peace he
either did not, or would not understand : and his
horror of war was constitutional and unconquerable.
It may therefore seem unaccountable that a king of
this temper should treat his parliaments with more
haughtiness than any of his predecessors had ever
done. But he had been told that England was nei-
ther to be exhausted nor provoked : and his actions
shewed that he believed so, according to the letter.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxv

The truth is, that as pusillanimity will talk bigger on
some occasions than true valor on any ; he meant to
make himself formidable to his people, that they
might not discover how much he was afraid of them.
Though he did not succeed in the union of the
kingdoms, he found his judges, in an affair of a similar
kind, more complaisant than the great council of the
nation had been : I mean the naturalization of all
Scotsmen born since his accession to the throne of
England. This was adjudged by Sir Edward Coke in case of the

r /~» t • • i i i i P™t >lfjtr,

the great case or Calvin ; as it had been argued at vol. iv.
large before all the judges by Sir Francis Bacon. The
affair is now no longer of importance to either king-
dom : but one assertion of our author, on that occa-
sion, ought not to be forgot. He roundly affirms
that monarchies no not subsist like other govern-
ments, by a precedent law ; and that submission to
them is grounded upon nature.

In 1610 he published another treatise, intitled, An-
fc Of the Wisdom of the Ancients." This work *
bears the same stamp of an original and inventive
genius with his other performances. Resolving not
to tread in the steps of those who had gone before
him, men, according to his own expression, not
learned beyond certain common places ; he strikes
out a new tract for himself, and enters into the most
secret recesses of this wild and shadowy region ; so
as to appear new on a known and beaten subject.
Upon the whole, if we cannot bring ourselves readily
to believe that there is all the physical, moral, and
political meaning veiled under those fables of an-
tiquity, which he has discovered in them, we must
own that it required no common penetration to be
mistaken with so great an appearance of probability
on his side. Though it still remains doubtful whe-
ther the ancients were so knowing as he attempts to
shew they were, the variety and depth of his own
knowledge are, in that very attempt, unquestionable.

Hobart being advanced to the place of Chief An.
Justice of the Common Pleas, Sir Francis Bacon sue- ^
t ceded him as Attorney General in 1613; about

xxvi The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

three months after the death of his kinsman and
enemy the lord treasurer Salisbury : a minister fertile
in expedients for supplying his master's wants, and
well acquainted with the temper of England : a man
of dexterity, craft, and intrigue, rather than a great
man. The office that Bacon now entered upon was
of exorbitant profit for that age. He owns, in one
of his letters to the king, that it was worth to him
60001. a year ; and his employment of register to the
Star-Chamber, which I mentioned above, now
brought him in 16001. a year more. By what fata-
lity was it that so extraordinary a man did not add to
his other virtues that of a reasonable oeconomy ? Had
he done so, it had preserved him from one transcen-
dent fault: and the other blemishes on his moral
name had been lost in the brightness of his intellectual
qualities. But he was remarkably subject to the
same weakness that so much dishonored his master.
His dependents had him wholly in their power, and
squandered his fortune away, shamefully and without
measure. In a private family, this begot disorder,
necessity, corruption : and all England beheld, from
the same management in administring the public,
the same effects j only more felt and fatal, as they
were universal.

It was not however till the year 1611 that James
abandoned himself to one sole favorite. About that
time was brought to court Robert Car, a Scotsman,
then in the first bloom of his youth, and of distin-
guished beauty ; by which he at once engaged the
king's attention, and in a little while ingrossed all
his affection. As he was wholly illiterate, James
himself would needs be his preceptor : and it must
have been a scene altogether new and ridiculous, to
see the sovereign of three kingdoms daily instructing,
in the first elements of grammar, the man who was
shortly after to govern those kingdoms. In his
bounty to this stripling, he observed no other measure
but that of his passion, which was as extreme as it
wu-ht to seemed unaccountable. Car, in four or five years of
tighten. 89*! favor, from a mere adventurer was raised to be earl

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxvii

of Somerset: and amassed an enormous estate of
nineteen thousand pounds a year in land ; besides
plate, money, and jewels, to the amount of two
hundred thousand pounds more. And yet he de-
serves a place in history, only for his scandalous
amour with the countess of Essex; for procuring her An.
to be divorced from her husband, and for combining ^^
with her to poison his friend, who had dissuaded him
from that ill step. The fate of Sir Thomas Over-
bury ; the dark and dreadful scene of guilt that
ushered it in ; and the part those two great criminals
acted in that tragedy, are recounted by all historians.
Though the horrible transaction lay yet wrapt up in
darkness, and was not discovered till two years after,
remorse and the upbraidings of conscience pursued
Somerset every where. Through all the splendor of
fortune and favor, the trouble of his mind was visible
in his countenance, in his whole deportment. He
grew by degrees to neglect his person and dress ; his coke,
sprightliness of temper left him : and his conversation,
from being gay and entertaining, was become cold,
serious, and gloomy. This alteration in him was
quickly followed by a change in the king's affections ;
which had no deeper or more solid foundation than
these external and slight accomplishments. The cour-
tiers, whom envy and interest render extremely sharp-
sighted, quickly discovered this change, and im-
proved it. Luckily for their designs, there now ap- An.
peared at court another young man, fitted by nature ""— ^
to draw the curiosity of James, and to supplant the
earl of Somerset in his favor. This was the famous wiison
George Villiers, the younger son of a good family in P- 79-
Leicestershire; afterwards duke of Buckingham. As
the surprising elevation of this youth had a particular
influence on the future fortunes, and even on the fall
of Sir Francis Bacon, his character will deserve a
place at large in this history.

His mother, who could not give him a fortune, be-
stowed on him such an education as might enable him
to acquire one, especially in a court like this. The
advantages he owed to nature, such as a handsome

xxyiii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

face, a body exactly proportioned, an ease and grace-
fulness in his motions, she had taken care to improve
with that elegance of manners, that artificial polite-
ness, and skill of excelling in trifles, which are the
last finishings of a French education. In a word
he was just returned from his travels, and accom-
plished in all those agreeable and frivolous arts, which
were a certain recommendation to the favor of
James. The earls of Pembroke and Bedford, with
some other lords who were secret enemies to Somer-
set, after dressing out this youth with a studied exact-
ness, placed him to advantage in the king's eye, at
a comedy. That monarch was immediately smitten
with his face, air, and appearance ; which yet he
endeavoured for some time to conceal. Nay he car-
ried this dissimulation so far that he would needs be
solicited by the queen to receive Villiers into his bo-
som : imagining the world would be thus deceived
into a belief that he rather followed her advice, in
this matter, than his own inclination. Such was the
kingcraft on which he so highly valued himself. The
R"\h,"'orth queen was not easily prevailed with to take this step ;

of Abbot, ^r . . . r 11 i A i

ch. i. or which she foresaw all the consequences. At last,
however, she yielded to the archbishop's importunity ;
telling him at the same time, that those who labored
most to promote Villiers might be the first to feel his
ingratitude. Upon this he was immediately knighted,
and declared gentleman of the bed-chamber: the
herd of courtiers rivalling each other in their offers of

wddon, friendship and service to him. Some of them even
descended to undertake his quarrels, and brave such
as were still in Somerset's interest.

Among those who courted the rising favorite,
none was more zealous than Sir Francis Bacon ; as
none was able to serve him more nobly, or more

V*L HI. usefully. Villiers had at this time sense enough to

sir G°C t0 ^ee^ kis inexperience in business, and therefore had re-
course to our author for his advice : which he gave
him fully in a letter, still extant among his works ;
written with so superior a judgment and so much
honest freedom, that it docs honor equally to his head

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxix

and heart. He has ranged his thoughts under seven
or eight principal topics of consideration, and entered
into an accurate detail of what a minister ought to
know and practise. In another letter to him, he has
these remarkable words : " It is now time that you
" should refer your actions chiefly to the good of your
" sovereign, and your country. It is the life of a
" beast always to eat, and never to exercise. In
" this dedication of yourself to the public, I recom-
" mend to you principally that which I think was
" never done since I was born, and which, not done,
" hath bred almost a wilderness and solitude in the
" king's service: which is, that you countenance
*c and encourage, and advance able and virtuous
cc men in all kinds, degrees, and professions." This
excellent advice the favorite received with thankful-
ness ; and neglected.

Though the king's passion was now wholly di- An 16Jf.
verted upon a new object, he still affected to treat ^-v-^/
Somerset with kindness and distinction ; even after
the discovery of his being an accomplice in poisoning
Sir Thomas Overbury had rendered this dissimulation
not only mean but criminal. Yet he continued it to Wil
the last, embracing with fondness the man whom he P.si."
had secretly ordered to be arrested: and intreating
him to hasten his return, when he believed he ,
should never see him more. In such trifles he was
fond to exert his talent of political management.
The earl's unhappy passion for the young countess of
Essex was the source of all his misfortunes, and drew
after it the most terrible consequences : ending, as I
have already observed, in the murder of his friend ;
in the ruin of himself, and of her to whom he had
treacherously sacrificed that friend. The whole
affair is displayed at full length in our author's charges
against those two prime agents in that infernal con- Mav,^.
spiracy. They were both found guilty, sentenced 25."'
to die, and afterwards pardoned by the king, not- £pls^°5'
withstanding his solemn imprecations to the contrary, sV.
on himself and his posterity.

xxx The Life of the Lord Chancellor Hacon.

Certain historians have remarked, that there was
something in the behaviour of Somerset before his
trial, singular and mysterious ; and that his master
likewise seemed to labor under a secret anxiety of
mind, equally surprising. The earl, they pretend,
said aloud in the Tower, that the king durst not
bring him to a trial. Others reject this account as
a downright calumny, invented merely to fix a black
and cruel imputation on that prince's memory: or
affirm at least that it was founded only in popular
rumour and malicious conjecture. But that there was
more in it than conjecture, may be proved by un-
doubted authority; by some original letters of Sir
Francis Bacon, then Attorney General, and particu-
larly employed in this very affair. Those letters
have, I think, escaped the observation of all our
writers : I shall therefore quote from them such pas-
sages as may serve to throw some light on this dark
transaction ; though not enough perhaps to discover
the darker motives that influenced the king's and the
earl's behaviour in it.

Baron, James himself selected certain persons to examine

Letter " Somerset with all secrecy, and marked out to them
the particular articles on which they were to interro-
gate him. They had withal orders to work upon his
obstinate temper by every method of persuasion and
terror: to give him now hopes of the king's compas-
sion and mercy ; and now to assure him that the
evidence was full to convict him, so as there needed
neither confession nor supply of examination. Ba-

con> W^° was one °f tnem> a^ds tnat tneX found his
deportment sober and modest, different apparently
from other times. In another letter he has these
remarkable words : " That the same little charm
" which may be secretly infused into Somerset's ear
" some hours before his trial, was excellently well
" thought of by his majesty: only I could wish it a
<c little enlarged ; for if it be no more but to spare his
" blood, he hath a kind of proud humor that may
" over-work the medicine." All this was to be done
with much caution and privacy 3 for the very ser^

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxxi

jeants, appointed to manage part of the trial, were
not yet in the secret how the king would have it car-
ried on : and therefore Bacon, to cover from them
what he knew of the matter, desired that some ge-
neral heads of direction might be sent to them all.
From hence it appears that James shewed an ex-
treme solicitude about the earl's behaviour, and the
event of this affair. To what can it be attributed ?
His affection for Somerset was extinguished : and he
lay under the strongest obligations of public honor
and justice not to screen, from the censure of the
law, a man whose guilt was of the most crying enor-
mity. The earl's standing mute, or denying that
guilt, especially as the proofs of it were strong and
pregnant, could bring no possible imputation on his
name. Why then all this dark practice ? all these
artifices of the persons who examined him, only to
make him submit to be tried, and to keep him in due
temper during his trial ? There is still more. James y^°
ordered his Attorney General to forecast and put in Letter
writing every possible case with regard to the trial,
and accompany them with his own opinion on each ;
that no surprise might happen, but that things duly
foreseen might have their directions and remedies in
readiness. Accordingly Sir Francis Bacon sent a
writing of that purport, on which there are several
observations in the king's own hand. I will only
quote one passage from it: " All these points of
" mercy and favor to Somerset are to be understood
" with this limitation ; if he do not, by his con-
" temptuous and insolent carriage at the bar, make
" himself incapable and unworthy of them." The
king's remark in the margin is in these words : ff That
" danger is well to be foreseen, lest he upon the one
" part commit unpardonable errors ; and I on the
" other part seem to punish him in the spirit of re-
cc venge." Somerset, was not to be tried for any
offence against the king ; but for the barbarous mur-
der of a private man 'and his friend. What then
means the contemptuous carriage that is so much ap-
prehended ? What are the unpardonable errors it may

CXXXViJf.

xxxii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

lead him to commit? If he reflected on a master, to>
whom he had been so much obliged, only for giving
him up to a fair and equal trial, to a trial by many
circumstances rendered inevitable -, that would, in
the opinion of all mankind, only aggravate his crime,
and furnish a new motive to that master for letting the
sentence of justice pass upon him in all its rigor.
v?-ncs°[K' After tnese particulars, I may venture to mention a
p.'ioo. ' fact related by Sir Antony Weldon, who says, that
when the lieutenant of the Tower, Sir George More,
came and told the earl he must prepare for his trial
on the morrow, he absolutely refused to appear un-
less they dragged him to it by violence ; adding, that
the king durst not bring him to trial. Astonished at
such rash and dangerous expressions, the lieutenant,
though is was then midnight, went and demanded
an audience of the king, to inform him of what 'had
passed. James, upon hearing his story, burst into
a passion of tears, and intreated More to use his
utmost skill upon his prisoner and soothe him, by
whatever means, into proper temper and submission.
This More undertook to do, and by a stratagem
effected it. Weldon affirms he had this story from
the lieutenant's own mouth : and though he is a partial
writer, and indulges himself in a humour of licentious
scandal, the authentic vouchers I have produced,
render his anecdote not improbable. Other circum-
stances, mentioned by those who have professedly
written of this reign, I therefore omit, and shall
onty ac^> tnat t*lere *s m tne Cabala a letter to king
1091. James from Somerset after his condemnation, of a
very peculiar turn. He desires that his estate may
be continued to him intire, in a style rather of expos-
tulation and demand than of humility and supplica-
tion : and through the affected obscurity of some ex-
pressions, one may discover, that there was an im-
portant secret in his keeping, of which the king
dreaded a discovery. The issue was, that James
continued to him a pension of four thousand pounds
a year, as long as he lived.
'Prince Henry died in the year 1612, universally

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxxiji

lamented. His excellent qualities had endeared him
to the love and expectations of all England. Ger-
manicus was not more the darling of the Roman
people : and the untimely end of both those princes
was universally believed to have been procured by
poison. He had expressed, on all occasions, an ab-
horrence of minions, and an utter contempt of
Somerset : he had even declared a firm resolution, to
humble both him and the family into which he was
allied, if ever he came to reign. Whether the unac-
countable transaction I have been relating has any
reference to the death of this amiable prince, or whe-
ther it does not point rather to an affair of a very
different nature, the reader is left to determine.

Villiers, now without a rival in the king's affec-
tions, Was every day receiving new proofs of his
bounty ; at the same time that he more than shared
with him the exercise of his authority. In the course
of a few years he was made Gentleman of the bed-
chamber, Master of the horse, Knight of the garter,
earl, marquis and duke of Buckingham, Chief justice
in eyre of all the forests, and lord High Admiral of
England. One of those prodigies of fortune, who
rise now and then upon the world, as the vulgar
imagine of comets, at once to astonish and scourge
it : a signal instance of the wantonness of sovereign
power, and how far it may insult human kind in
exalting and adorning what it should neglect or con-
temn. He drew up after him an obscure kindred,
numerous and indigent, bestowed on them places of
trust and profit, married them into the noblest families,
and graced them all with dignities, which were to be
supported at the common expence of a whole people ;
to whom if any one of them was merely harmless, it
was his utmost praise. Alter having read, not only
what the enemies of this favorite have said against
him, but all that his partizans have alledged on his
behalf, I do not find during the whole time of his'in^
fluence under two reigns, an influence supreme and
unbounded, that he ever projected one scheme for the
benefit of his country, or ever executed one under-*

VOL, i. d

CLXVI.

xxxiv TJic Life of tlie Lord Chancellor Bacon.

taking to its honor ; the only great criterion by
which we ought to judge those men that administer
the public. The breaking off the Spanish match at
last was solely a sacrifice to his own vanity and
resentment. On the caprice of this youth, however,
the first and ablest men in the kingdom were to de-
pend entirely, for their access at court, for their
advancement, for any opportunity of being able to
serve their country and their sovereign. Sir Francis
Bacon was sensible of this, and courted his friendship
with a particular application. But he must have
felt all the servitude and disagreeableness of his si-
Bacon, tuation, when, to be well with the king, he found it
Letter* necessary to turn steward to the estate newly be-
stowed on this young man ; to study the ways and
means of improving his lands, and of rendering his
places most profitable to him. It is true he found
his account in this service ; as it proved the surest
means of his own preferment : but, to a great and
worthy mind, preferment so meanly obtained is dis-
grace, only a little disguised and gilded over.

The lord Chancellor Egerton, broken with age
and infirmities, had often petitioned the king to be
dismissed from his laborious employment. He was
now seventy-seven years old, and had presided in the
court of chancery from the year 1596, with an un-
blemished reputation as a judge in private cases; but
his public conduct had been always framed to the
directions of the court with an obsequiousness, of
dangerous example in one, who held so great and
important a trust. To this high dignity Sir Francis
Bacon privately aspired : and as it was the utmost
scope of his ambition, he had aimed all his endeavours
in the king's service to merit it at his^ hands. He
took care, at the same time, to strengthen his pre-
tensions by the credit of Buckingham. His ambition
even made him descend to artifices, that are as com-
mon in courts, as they are mean and unwarrantable ;
for he endeavoured to ruin in the king's good opi-
nion such men as the voice of the public might
probably design to the same office, and whom he
therefore considered as his rivals. He was parti-

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxxv

cularly jealous of Sir Edward Coke, and represented
him as one who abounded in his own sense ; one Letter '
who affected popularity, and likely to court the good cxxvrx«
will of the nation at the hazard of the prerogative.
For himself, he placed his great merit in obedience
and submission ; in the interest he had among the
Commons* and in being able to influence the lower
house of parliament : a service which he magnifies
as more important in a Chancellor, than to judge in
equity between party and party. This opinion of
his own popularity in the nation was not groundless.
The parliament that met in 1614, though extremely Petyt's
out of humor with the ministers in general, dis- £«""w.
tinguished him by an uncommon mark of favor and P- 174«
confidence. An objection having been started in
the house of commons, that a seat there was in-
compatible with the office of Attorney General,
which required his frequent attendance in the upper
house : the commons, from their particular regard
for Sir Francis Bacon, and for that time only, over-
ruled the objection ; and he was accordingly allowed
to take his place among them. If I observe farther,
that the king raised him to the dignity of a privy-
counsellor while he was still in this very office, it
will be instead of many instances to shew, with
what an addressful prudence he steered his course
betwixt the court and the nation. He was thus
favored by a prince, who exacted from all his ser-
vants an implicit submission to his maxims of govern-
ment : he gave no umbrage to a parliament whom
these maxims had rendered jealous of the prince,
and of almost every man in his favor. But to return.

These insinuations had their desired effect. Upon An. icnt
the Chancellor's voluntary resignation of the seals, v-*"v^
they were given to Sir Francis Bacon^ with the title
of lord Keeper, on the seventh of March 1617. To Bacon,
what interest he more particularly owed this pro-
motion we may learn from his letter of acknowlege-
ment, written that very day, to the earl : of Buck-
ingham.

A few days after he had the seals delivered to him,

Bacon,
Vol. V.
Letter

CLXXV.

xxxvi The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

the king went a progress into Scotland, carrying with
him the favorite, who was likewise his prime mini-
ster : for to him all business, public or private, was
addressed ; and, according to his fancy, for the most
part determined. The great affair that employed the
deliberations of his council about this time, and had
a fatal influence on his conduct ever after, was the
marriage of prince Charles with the Infanta of Spain.
In this resolution, though contrary to all the rules of
good policy, he persisted for seven years together;
against his own interest, against the universal voice
of his people : only to procure the imaginary honor
of an alliance with a crowned head ; for all other
alliances he thought below his dignity. Sir Francis
Bacon, who saw through the vanity and danger of
this intention, but who wanted resolution to be
greatly honest, contented himself with insinuating
softly, that it would be necessary to have the council
unanimous in their suffrage on the occasion, what-
ever might be their private sentiments. This hint
was not sufficient to open the king's eyes. On the
contrary, he run blindfold into the snare that Gun-
damor was spreading for him. That famous states-
man, as much by his buffooneries as by his talent for
intrigue, had gained an absolute ascendant over
James, leading him on from error to error: till in the
end he made him sacrifice his conscience to the pope,
and his honor to the resentments of Philip, in the
murder of his bravest subject Sir Walter Raleigh ,
the last terror of Spain, and the only surviving favorite
of queen Elizabeth. The Dutch too made advan-
tage of the king's weakness and necessities. As
Kapin. the cautionary towns were still in the hands of the
English, the States were under some apprehensions
that the Spanish ministry might prevail upon James,
who' could not possibly conceal his fondness for
the match in treaty, to put those important places
into their power. They knew at the same time
that his treasury was exhausted, and that his courtiers
were insatiable. To bring their purpose about,
they ceased all at once to pay the English who

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxxvii

garrisoned those places, as by their treaties they
were obliged to do. Complaint being made of
this to the Dutch envoy at London, he insinuated,
as from himself, to some of the ministers, that if
king James would desire it of the States, they would,
out of consideration for him, take up money at
an exorbitant interest, and in one payment discharge
the whole debt due to the crown of England. This
stratagem took effect. James wrote to the States;
and the matter was immediately put into negotia-
tion. The pensionary Barnevelt, whom they sent
over, conducted the affair with so much address,
that the king agreed to deliver up the cautionary
towns for less than three millions of florins, in lieu
of eight millions they had engaged to pay Elizabeth,
besides the interest that had been running on for
eighteen years. Such are the events of this reign ;
fit only to depress the writer, and distaste the reader.
During the king's absence in Scotland there hap-
pened an affair, otherwise of small importance, but
as it lets us into the true genius of those times, and
serves to shew in what miserable subjection the fa-
vorite held all those who were in public employ-
ments. He was upon the point of ruining Sir
Francis Bacon, the person he had just contributed
to raise, not for any error or negligence in their
master's service, but merely for an opinion given in
a thing that only regarded his own family. In-
deed such was the levity, such the insolence of his
power, that the capricious removal of men from their
places, became the prime distinction of his thirteen
years favor; which, as bishop Hacket observes, was
like a sweeping flood, that at every spring-tide takes
from one land, to cast what it has taken upon ano- lii
ther. The affair was this. The year before, my lord 1>;j9
Coke had been removed from his place of Chief
Justice, and disgraced : the court having found him,
in several instances, no friend to arbitrary will and
pleasure, or to the prerogative, as it was called; but
resolutely bent to maintain the integrity and honor
of his post. One Peacham had been accused of in-

c x x v 1 1 r

CXLV.

xxxviii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

serting in a sermon several passages accounted trea-
sonable, for it seems they reflected on the ministry; but
in a sermon never preached, nor ever intended to be
made public. The king, who was beyond measure
jealous on this head, fearing the man might either be
acquitted on his trial, or not condemned to capital
va0Tv punishment, had ordered his attorney general Bacon
Letter to sound the judges beforehand, and gather their
cxn- opinions secretly and apart. My lord Coke obsti-
nately refused to declare his; looking on this aur'n
cular. taking of opinions, for so he named it, as
not according to the custom of the realm, but new,
and of pernicious tendency. About the same time
he had determined a cause at common law. The
Bacon, plaintiff, who thought himself injured, would not
Lett'ey* abide by his decisions, but applied to chancery for
relief; where the defendant refused to appear, disr
claiming the authority of that court : in which he
was supported by the Chief Justice, who threat-
ened the Chancellor with a premunire, grounded
on a statute made 27th Edw. III. for thus in-
vading the limits of his jurisdiction. The king, who
thought his prerogative struck at anew in this attack
on the court of his absolute power, as Bacon styles
it, had the matter examined before the council -y
who condemned the Chief Justice for what he had
done, and obliged him to make a submission on his
knees. But what completed the distaste taken at
him, was his behaviour in a cause of the bishop
of Litchfield and Coventry, to whom the king had
granted a vacant church in commendam. Serjeant
Letter Chibornc, who was counsel against the bishop, in
CXLV, arguing the case had maintained several positions,
reckoned prejudicial and derogatory to the king's su-
preme and imperial power, which was affirmed to be
distinct from, and of a higher nature than his ordinary
authority. Informed of this, James, by his attorney
general Bacon, ordered the Judges to stay further
proceedings in that business, till they had consulted
with him. The judges assembled, and unanimously
agreed, that they could not obey this order; that

""

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xxxlx

the letter they had received was contrary to law ; that
by their oath and the duty of their places they were
not to delayjustice ; that they had therefore proceeded
in the cause at the time fixed : and of this they certified
the king in a writing under all their hands. Upon
this remonstrance, he writ them an angry letter, and
peremptorily commanded them to stay all proceed-
ings, till his return to London. They were then
summoned before the council, and sharply repri-
manded for suffering the popular lawyers to question
his prerogative, which was represented as sacred and
transcendent, not to be handled or mentioned in vul-
gar argument. At last raising his voice to frighten
them into submission, he put this question to them
severally: " If, at any time, in a case depending be-
" fore the judges, he conceived it to concern him
" either in profit or power, and thereupon required to
" consult with them, and that they should stay pro-
" ceedings in the mean time ; whether they ought
" not to stay them accordingly?0 They all, the Chief
Justice only excepted, acknowledged it their duty
to do so. His answer deserves to be for ever re-
membered: " That when such a case happened, he Bacon,
" would do that which should be fit for a judge LetteT*

" tO do/* CXLVIII.

Yet this great lawyer, who had the honest cou-
rage to resist the king to his face, wanted that inde-
pendence "of mind which alone enables a man to
bear solitude, and an acquaintance with himself.
His disgrace, which reflected more honor on him
than all his preferments, he was unable to support;
and therefore he soon after sued to be reinstated in
the king's favor. To recover it, he meanly enough
courted the favorite with an offer, which he would
not hear of when it was formerly made to him.
While in power, he had refused to give his daughter Bacon,
in marriage to Sir John Villiers, not without marks ?££•.
of disrespect: he now submissively intreated the CLXX*.
same person to honour him with his alliance: and CLXXXI*
employed Secretary Winwood to inform the earl of
Buckingham of his extreme concern for what had

xl The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

passed with regard to the earl's brother; that he now
passionately wished the treaty might be renewed and
accomplished; adding, that they should make their
own terms of settlement, if his proposal was ac-
cepted. As the young lady was not only a celebrated
beauty, but a great fortune, the person most interested
made no difficulty to close with this proposal : and
his mother recommended it to her second son with
warmth. This alarmed the lord keeper Bacon. Ever
jealous of Coke's reputation, and at odds with him,
he dreaded his alliance with so powerful a family.
His imagination suggested to him all the danger that
Bacon, threatened his present and future fortunes from this
CXLII, to union : and he could not forget that he had lately
L. Coke, treated his antagonist with a freedom that rather in-
sulted than admonished him. These apprehensions
made him cast about how to defeat the intended
match, by raising such objections to it as might touch
the king and his favorite in point of public honor
and advantage. His letters to both, on that occa-
tion, are written with the perplexity of a man who
fears something he is unwilling to own; which yet
his prudence passes over with a seeming unconcern,
to enlarge only upon considerations that regard those
whom he would be thought to serve. But this ma-
nagement proved ineffectual. It was resented by the
earl of Buckingham, and checked by a rough answer
from the king. The lady Compton, too, informed
of the part he was acting, gave a loose to her tongue,
and railed at him with a bitterness natural to women
when they are thwarted in any fayourite pursuit of
interest or passion. Having thus, to prevent a distant
and uncertain danger, involved himself in one that
\vas real and immediate, he made no scruple to change
sides at once; to go directly against his former opi»
n ion; and to offer unasked his interest in the young
;ettcr lady's mother for promoting the match he had just

. L, XXXI V» tii » t • * s~\ l * • i •

been labouring to disappoint. On such trivial acci-
dents do the fortunes of ministers depend: and to
such little and shameful arts is ambition often obliged
to stoop. Nor even thus did he presently regain his

The Lift of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xli

credit with Buckingham. The family continued to
load him with reproaches : and he remained long
under that agony of heart which an aspiring man must
feel, when his power and dignity are at the mercy
of a king's minion, young and giddy with his eleva-
tion, and who thinks himself offended. They were
however reconciled at last ; and their friendship, if ob-
sequiousness in one to all the humours of the other
deserves the name of friendship, continued without
interruption for some years; while Buckingham went
on daily to place and displace the great officers of the
crown, as wantonness of fancy, or anger, or interest
led him; to recommend or discountenance every pri-
vate person who had a suit depending in any court,
just as he was influenced ; to authorize and protect
every illegal project that could serve most speedily to
enrich himself or his kindred. In a word, he be-
came formidable even to the master who had raised
him from the dust, and who should have still awed
him by his authority : and this amidst the dissipation
of a lire, given up to idle amusements, or sullied with
criminal pleasures.

In the beginning of 1619, Sir Francis Bacon was ^ ^
created lord high Chancellor of England, and shortly
after baron of Verulam ; which title he exchanged
the year following, for that of viscount St. Albans.
Such events in his life as these may be passed over
slightly :^ he was so great a man, that external honors
could add no lustre to his name. Indeed had they
been the immediate reward of those nobler services
he had done, and was still meditating to do his
country, they might deserve more particular notice,
for the sake of him who bestowed them.

Neither the weight and variety of business, nor the
pomps of a court, could divert his attention from the
study of philosophy. Those were his avocations and
incumbrances; this was his beloved employment, and
almost the only pleasure in which he indulged his
freer and better hours. He gave to the public in
1620 his Novum Organon, as a second part to his An. !«;2-v
grand Instauration of the Sciences; a work that for ^-~'^*'

xlii The Life of the I^ord Chancellor Bacon.

twelve years together he had been methodizing, alter-
ing, and polishing ; till he had labored the whole
into a series of aphorisms, as it now appears. Of all
his writings this seems to have undergone the strict-
est revision, and to be finished with the severest
judgment. Indeed the form into which it is cast
admits of nothing foreign, of nothing merely orna-
mental. The lights and embellishments of imagina-
tion, the grace and harmony of style, are rejected
here, as beauties either superfluous, or of an inferior
nature. The author has, besides, made use of several
terms in a new and peculiar sense, which may have
discouraged some readers, as it has made others ima-
gine them equally unintelligible with the horrors of
a vacuum, the quiddities, and substantial forms, of
the philosophy which he attempted to discredit : and
therefore, of all his writings it has been the least
read, or understood. It was intended as a more use-
ful, a more extensive logic than the world had yet
been acquainted with : an art not conversant about
syllogisms, and modes of argumentation, that may be
serviceable sometimes in arranging truths already
known, or in detecting fallacies that lie concealed
among our own reasonings and those of other men ;
but an art inventive of arts : productive of new dis-
coveries, real, important, and of general use to human
life. This he proposed, by turning our attention
from notions to things ; from those subtle and frivo-
lous speculations that dazzle, not enlighten, the un-
derstanding, to a sober and sensible investigation of
the laws and powers of nature, in a way becoming
sages who make truth and information the sole aim
of their inquiries. In order to this, his first endeavor
\vas to weed out of the mind such errors as naturally
grow in it, or have been planted there by education,
and cherished by the influence of men, whose writ-
ings had long claimed a right of prescription to rule
and mislead mankind. To a mind thus prepared for
instruction, he proposes the second and scientifical
part of his scheme, the true method of interpreting
nature, by fact and observation 3 by sound and go-

Tk-e Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xliii

nuine induction, widely differing from that puerile
art which till then had solely prevailed in philosophy.
His requires a sufficient, an accurate collection of in-
stances, gathered with sagacity and recorded with
impartial plainness, on both sides of the question :
from which, after viewing them in all possible lights,
to be sure that no contradictory instances can be
brought, some portion of useful truth, leading on to
further discoveries, may be at last fairly deduced.
In this way, experiments and reasonings grow up
together, to support and illustrate each other mutu-
ally, in every part of science.

As we are now approaching towards the most An- t6-^
memorable event of our author's public life, which v *^*-'
ended in a melancholy reverse of his fortune and
honor, it will be necessary to trace, step by step, the
causes that produced it : especially as the affair has
not been hitherto considered in the point of view that
renders it most interesting and instructive. It will, I
believe, appear with evidence, that, whatever his
crimes might be, he was sacrificed to the safety of
another, far more criminal than himself: and that
this was the act of an ill-judging master, with whom
it was a greater merit to be amusing in any degree,
fhan to be serviceable in the greatest.

Among the weaknesses of king James, his vanity
was the most pernicious to his own family, and to
the nation in general. He placed an infinite value
on certain chimerical advantages that met in his per-
son y on that inherent right by which, he pretended,
the crown of England was devolved to him ; on his
long acquaintance with the prime mysteries of govern-
ment ; and on his uncommon accomplishments in
learning. His favorite maxim was, that he who
knows not how to dissemble, knows not how to
reign : but he seems not to have heard of a second
maxim, without which the first cannot be successful,
even for a time ; to conceal every appearance of
cunning, and to deceive under the guise of candor
and good faith. He, on the contrary, shewed his
whole game at once, to his own subjects and to

xliv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

foreigners alike : so that in his attempts upon the
former, in his negotiations with the latter, this Solo-
mon was the only dupe. A great share of learning
he certainly had, but of learning that a king ought
not to be acquainted with ; the very refuse of the
schools, which served for little else but to furnish
him with an impertinent fluency, on every subject :
and he indulged himself in the sovereign pedantry
of setting it to show, on every occasion. On all these
heads, he was extolled without measure by the most
pestilent of flatterers, grave and reverend ecclesiastics:
for which, and because they encouraged him in an
unprincely application of his talent, he, on many oc-
casions, made his power the mean instrument to gra-
tify their passions and lust of dominion. They, in
return, found out for him a title antecedent and su-
perior to human laws, even a divine right of being
weak or wicked, without control. And this doctrine,
horrible as it is, they dared to derive from Scripture:
where, if it could be found, which to affirm were
blasphemy, it would be the triumph of infidelity, and
demonstration that those sacred writings were inspired,
not by God, but by some being, his opposite and
the enemy of all goodness. This doctrine, meeting
with his own perverted habits of thinking, made
king James look upon his subjects as slaves ; upon
his parliaments as usurpers of a power to which they
had no right, or at best a precarious one : and he had
now, for seven years together, affected to govern with-
out them -, to set up an interest separate from that
of his people, and to supply his wants by all ways
and means, but such as the constitution prescribed,
iiacket, These methods were suggested to him by the worst
P. 50. enemies of the commonwealth, the tribe of projectors
. and monopolists: miscreants who sheltered them-
selves under the name and influence of Buckingham,
and who repaid his protection extravagantly, at the
cxpence of a people whom they were grinding and
devouring. His mother too, now created a countess
in her own right, a woman born for mischief, of a
meddling spirit and insatiably greedy, was deep in

Tlie Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xlv

the guilt of these transactions ; forwarding every bad
project that brought her in money ; and, by the
mighty power she had over her son, succeeding in
every scandalous job she undertook. Under an ad-
ministration like this, when England was in effect
governed by a dissolute youth, himself in the hands
of an intriguing, rapacious woman, it cannot be sur-
prising that the people were vexed and plundered by
illegal patents, by monopolies, by other mischievous
projects, calculated to enrich a few, and to ruin
thousands. To all these patents, however procured,
the chancellor had readily, almost implicitly, affixed
the seal, as the mere creature of Buckingham : or if
he ever ventured to insinuate that any of them were
contrary to law, his remonstrance was too fearful
and unsupported to produce any effect. This is the
great stain on his character, that he deserted, or neg-
lected, the post of honor where providence had placed
him, on the frontier, if I may so speak, betwixt
Prerogative and Liberty ; that, if he did not encou-
rage, he at least connived at, the invasions that were
every day making into the latter. Yet this was against
his inclination, as well as against his better sense of
things ; for as he knew well that his master's true
interest lay in a good understanding with his people,
he had often advised him to call frequent parliaments,
and to throw himself on the affections of the nation
for the support of his government. Though such
advice was repugnant to all the maxims by which
that monarch wished to establish his power ; though
" e had resolved to lay parliaments aside for ever, as
daring encroachers upon his prerogative, who made
themselves greater and their prince less than became
either : yet he was now prevailed upon to meet the
two houses once more. Indeed the exigency of his
affairs rendered it necessary. His subjects, it is true,
were harassed and pillaged ; but he was still in ex-
treme want of money : those wretches, to whom he
delegated his authority, leaving to him little else be-
sides the public hatred, occasioned by their rapines
committed in his name. Add to this, that the June-

xlvi ~ The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

ture appeared favorable for obtaining large supplies
from the commons. As the whole body of the nation
expressed an uncommon zeal for recovering the Pala-
tinate to his unfortunate son-in-law, he had reason to
expect, that, on assurance of his entering heartily into
a war, they would vote him considerable aids of
money ; which he might afterwards divert, as he ac-
tually did, to other purposes that better suited his
genius and notions.

A parliament was accordingly summoned : and it
met on the 20th of January 1621. The king was
not wholly mistaken in his conjecture : for the com-
mons immediately voted him two intire subsidies ;
but went at the same time into a strict inquiry into
those arbitrary impositions, that, in a period of seven
years, were become insupportable to the people.
Among the monopolies, in particular, there were
three of flagrant injustice and oppression. Certain
persons had obtained patents from the king, which
impowered them to set an annual fine on such as
kept inns, or alehouses throughout England. With-
out a licence from the patentees, no man could hold
either : and whoever would not readily pay the sum,
at which those low instruments of power thought fit
to excise him, was sure of being harassed and plun-
dered, or thrown into a jail. This proved a fruitful
source of vexations, and fell heavy on the poorer sort.
The third was yet more enormous ; a patent for the
sole making and vending of gold and silver lace,
which had been granted to two infamous tools of the
favorite, Mompesson and Michel ; the Dudley and
Empson of that age. The first a man of fortune,
whose sole ambition was to make himself considered,
though but by his crimes : the other an obscure
justice of the peace, who, in a remote quarter of the
town, picked up a sordid maintenance from the
stews. They had, it seems, shamefully abused the
power their exclusive patent gave them, by putting
off, for true, great quantities of counterfeit lace,
wrought up and embased with copper, or other ma-
terials of a poisonous nature : and whoever presumed

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xlvii

to make or sell any other was cruelly punished, by
fine and imprisonment. In these outrages they were Racket.
the more daring, because Sir Edward Villiers, half- ^wn
brother to the favorite, was associated into their
patent, though not named in it. These, with many
other grievances, were laid open in parliament, and
severely censured. But the commons did not stop
here. They were for carrying their search up to
the prime cause of all grievances, in order to discover
by whose influence the several patents had been pro-
cured, and how they had passed the seals. Com-
plaints were brought into the house, about the same
time, of corrupt practices even in the high court of
Equity. This alarmed the king for his chancellor,
and still more for his minion : as private intimation
had been sent to Buckingham, of a severe scrutiny Cabala,
that was making into all his management, and of Lctter "'
frequent meetings that were held, with great secrecy,
by certain members of the lower house ; in order to
fix on him the guilt of whatever was most unjustifia-
ble and oppressive. Buckingham's creatures, anxious
and alarmed at this intelligence, persuaded him that
he could secure impunity to himself and them, only
by bringing his master forthwith to dissolve the par-
liament: and James had certainly been frightened
into tha't rash and hazardous step, but for the sober
remonstrances of Williams dean of Westminster.
That politic courtier advised him to cancel at once,
by proclamation, all monopolies and vexatious grants;
to sacrifice inferior criminals to the public resent-
ment, and to soothe the parliament with an assurance
that this reformation was first proposed by his favo-
rite, on finding how much he had been abused by
designing and knavish projectors. This counsel the
king resolved to follow ; but it did not wholly free
him from the perplexity he was under. The chan-
cellor, whom his interest led him to preserve, was
openly accused of corruption : the favorite, whom
his tenderness could not resign, was secretly, and
therefore more dangerously attacked ; as the encou-
rager, if not the author, of whatever was deemed

xlviii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

Abrid1'9 mos* illegal and oppressive. To save both, at this
post. juncture, would be impossible : and he found he
p'2'5* must either part with the object of his inclinations,
or with the oracle of his counsels. How such a
prince would determine, is easy to guess. His pas-
sion prevailed over his reason : and my lord St. Al-
bans was made the scape-goat of Buckingham. He
was even obliged to abandon his defence. As he had
gained universal esteem by his learning; and as his
eloquence was equal to his parts, superior and com-
manding, the king would not hazard his appearing
before the lords to plead his own cause. In the course
of such an inquiry, he might have diverted the pub-
Jic odium from himself, by laying open the long series
of bad administration to which he had been privy;
the many illegal patents he had been compelled to
pass ; and all this came full home to Buckingham, the
great object of national vengeance. The faults, too,
imputed to himself, he might have extenuated so far
us to procure a great mitigation of the censure that
must otherwise fall upon him in its utmost rigor.
All this he foresaw and felt; but the king absolutely
commanded him not to be present at his trial; pro-
mising on his royal word, to screen him in the last
determination; or if that could not be, to reward
him afterwards with ample retribution of protection
and favor. He obeyed, and was undone,
state Tri. On the twelfth of March, a committee for inspect-

V<353 etc ]*n§ *nto ^e a^uses °f tne courts of justice was ap-
' pointed by the commons. Some days after, Sir Ro
bert Phillips, a gentleman eminent for public spirit
and humanity, reported from thence to the house,
that complaints had been brought before them, by
two persons, against the lord Chancellor, for bribery
and corruption. This report he made not only with-
out bitterness, but in terms of great regard and ten-
derness for the accused; moving that the business
might be presented to the peers singly, and without
exaggeration. At a conference, on the nineteenth,
between certain members of both houses, the lords
agreed to take the matter into their speedy consider-

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. xlix

ation. As soon as this affair was become the pub-
lic talk, a new croud of accusers appeared, and
charged home the unhappy chancellor with other and
flagrant instances of bribery; such persons especially
as had courted him with presents, and afterwards
received a judgment unfavorable to their expecta-
tions: animated more by that disappointment, than
by the iniquity of his decisions ; for it does not ap- Rush-
pear that any of his decrees were ever reversed. He coTv'oi i,
was all this while confined to his house by an indis-
position, real or pretended: but if his body was in
health, what must have been the condition of his mind,
in this interval of suspense and anxiety? a great
mind, already self-convicted, yet exquisitely sensible
to good fame, which it has long enjoyed, and is upon
the point of losing for ever! His reflections, whether
he looked back on the past, or forward to the pro-
spect before him, must have been terrible : as they
were at the same time inflamed by peculiar circum-
stances of shame and confusion; that he was now,
at the age of sixty-one, falling a victim to the rapine
and insolence of his domestics, which he had weakly
connived at, rather than to any faults of his own.

On the twenty-sixth of March, the king came to
the house of peers ; and, in expressions of studied
popularity, owned the errors of his government ex-
claimed against the patents complained of, frankly
gave up to justice the lesser criminals concerned in
them: and all this for the sake of his favorite,
whom in the end he endeavoured to screen by the
poorest reasons imaginable. Indeed, no good reasons
could be alledged in defence of him, who was the
greatest criminal; and without whose concurrence
the wretches in question could not have been guilty.
The lords were not imposed upon by this speech;
however, thinking it sufficient to have reduced their
sovereign to the necessity of an apology, they feigned
to be of his opinion. Thus, Buckingham escaped for
the present; to accumulate new guilt, and to fall
at last, ignobly, by a private hand: after he had been
devoted, by the curses of a whole people, and more
VOL. i, e

1 The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

solemnly still by the denunciations of their repre-
sentatives. After a recess of three weeks, the house
met again: but the weight* of their indignation fell
singly, and therefore without mercy, on the chan-
cellor. They were not satisfied with his letter of ge-
neral confession, though delivered to them by the
prince of Wales ; in which he renounced all justifi-
cation of himself, and sued for no other favor, " but
" that his penitent submission might be his sentence,
" and the loss of the seals his punishment." He
was obliged to put in a particular answer to every
point of his accusation : which he did on the first of
May, 1621; acknowledging, in the most explicit
words, the corruption charged upon him in twenty-
eight several articles, and throwing his cause entirely
on the compassion of his judges. His sentence was,
" to undergo a fine of forty thousand pounds; to be
" imprisoned in the Tower during the king's plea-
<f sure ; to be for ever uncapable of any office, place,
<c or employment in the commonwealth ; and never
" to sit again in parliament, or come within the verge
" of the court." Thus he lost the great privilege of
his peerage ; a severity unusual, except in cases of
treason and attainder.

The last article of his charge furnishes matter for
much reflection. It alledges, " that he had given
<c way to great exactions in his servants, both in re-
" spect of private seals, and otherwise for sealing in-
*f junctions." This indulgence to his domestics, which
was certainly extreme, has been generally, and I be-
wiison. lieve truly, reckoned the principal cause of those ir-
Bushei's regularities that drew on his disgrace. Liberal in his
Postdp.'2. own temper, or rather profuse beyond the condition
of a man who means to preserve his integrity, he al-
lowed his family in every kind of extravagance: and
as many of his retinue were young, dissipated, giddy
in the pursuit of pleasure, they squandered without
measure, where they were indulged without* control*.

* One day, during his trial, as he was passing through a room
where several of his domestics were sitting, upon their getting up to
salute him, Sit down, my masters, he cried ; your rise hath been
my fall.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

Whether he did not discover this error till it was
too late, or whether a soul like his, lost in the great-
ness and immensity of its own views, could not at-
tend to that detail of little and disagreeable particu-
lars, which yet oeconomy requires ; however that was,
to support his ordinary train of living, he fell into
corruption himself, and connived at it in his de*
pendents, Thus we behold him, a memorable example
of all that is great and exalted, of all that is little and
low, in man. Such inconsistencies in our human na-
ture cannot but alarm and terrify even those who are
most confirmed in a habit of virtue.

After a short confinement in the Tower, the king
restored him to his liberty, and forgave the fine in
which the parliament had amerced him. As this
fine was very considerable, he managed so as to have
it assigned over to some of his friends, under the no-
tion of being his creditors : and we find Williams, cabala,
his successor in the seals, complaining heavily of
this stratagem ; as if he thereby intended to defraud
those persons to whom he was really in debt, who
were many and in danger of being ruined by his fall.
But I am inclined to hope, that he made use of this
artifice with a more innocent view: namely, to pro-
cure himself a short respite from their importunities,
till he could settle his private affairs, extremely per-
plexed by former ill management, and now by the
loss of his employments rendered desperate. That I
may not be obliged to mention any more an affair
alike ungrateful to the reader and writer, I will ob-
serve here, that about three years after this,- he peti-
tioned king James for a total remission of his cen-
sure : " to the end that this blot of ignominy might Er.con,
" be removed from him, and from his memory with VoL v-
" posterity." What lay in the king's power, James L
readily granted, a full and entire pardon of his whole
sentence*. Posterity likewise, to which he appealed, p
has seemed unwilling to remember that he ever

* Accordingly he was summoned to the first parliament of king

Charles.

CCXCfV.

lii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

offended: and those who record his failings, like
those who have made observations on the spots in
the sun, neither pretend to diminish his real bright-
ness in himself, nor deny his universal influence on
Bushel's *^e WOI"ld of learning. Thus he withdrew from the
Ahridg.^ glare of a public station into the shade of retirement
Post. p. 3. anj studious leisure ; often lamenting, that ambition,
and false glory had so long diverted him from the
noblest as well as the most useful employments of a
reasonable being : mortified, no doubt, into these
sentiments by a severe conviction, in his own per-
son, of the instability and emptiness of all human
grandeur.

Hitherto we have followed him through the bustle
and obliquity of business. We shall find him hence-
forth in a more pleasing, though a less conspicuous
situation -y freed from the servitude of a court ; from
an intolerable attendance there, on the vices and fol-
lies of men every way his inferiors (for in this reign
„ no one could rise to power on more honorable
terms :) in a condition now to pursue the native bent
of his genius -, to live to himself, and far the advan-
tage, not of one age, or one people only, but of all
mankind, and all times to come.

An. 1622. The fjrst considerable work he engaged in, after
"""^ ' his retirement, was the history of Henry the seventh;
which he undertook at the desire of king James, and
published in the year 1622. Whatever some writers
may have insinuated of his melancholy and dejection,
we find every where, in this performance, evident
traces of a spirit unbroken by age, and unsubdued by
misfortunes. It has been highly applauded, and as
much condemned : a proof that it has more than
common merit. And we may venture to affirm, that,
whatever its faults are, they arise from no want of
vigor in the understanding, or of warmth in the ima-
gination of the writer. King James affected to con-
sider his ^reat grandfather Henry as a perfect model
for the imitation of other monarchs : and as his was
the reign of flattery, this quickly grew to be the pre-
valent and fashionable opinion at court, Though ir*

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. liii

truth, that prince's character was, in every part of it,
imamiable ; and his conduct, on many occasions,
weak or wicked. If my lord Bacon has not wholly
escaped the infection of his age ; if he has here and
there attempted to brighten the imperfections, and
throw in shades the bad features of the original he
was drawing ; yet, through these softenings, we can
easily see this king as he was, and in all his genuine
deformity. Suspicion and avarice, his own historian
acknowledges, were the chief ingredients in his com-
position : and therefore his politics, both at home and
abroad, were narrow, selfish, and false. Void of all
great and extensive prudence, he endeavoured to
supply that want by temporary shifts, and the little
expedients of cunning. By these he commonly had Bacon,
the luck to extricate himself out of difficulties which
a wiser man would have timely foreseen, and a better
man have wholly prevented. But as his genius was
unsociable and solitary, the darkness in his temper
passed on mankind for depth and sagacity in his
understanding. His avarice too, was sordid and
shameless. Nothing seemed mean, nothing unjust in
his eyes, that could fill his coffers : and merely to
fill them, for of wealth he had no enjoyment, he
descended to arts of rapine no less scandalous than
they were oppressive.

I have acknowledged that my lord Bacon's History
has been taxed of partiality, and I will not dissemble
that his style has been objected to, as full of af-
fectation, full of false eloquence. But that was the
vice, not of the man, but of the times he lived in :
and particularly of a court, that, after the sovereign's
example, delighted in the tinsel of wit and writing,
in the poor ingenuity of punning and quibbling.

His Essays have, of all his works, been most cur-
rent, and are still very justly esteemed. Towards the
close of his life he greatly enlarged them both in
number and weight ; and published them anew, not
only in English, but in a more universal language,
which, he imagined, may preserve them as long as
books shall last. As they are intended not to amuse

liv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

but instruct ; as they are neither a satire on human
Lettres nature, nor the school of scepticism ; Monsieur de
Angiois, Voltaire observes, that they have been less popular
P- 88- than the maxims of Rochefoucault, or the Essays of
Montagne. A remark that does my lord Bacon
honor ; who was too great a man to court a reputa-
tion from the multitude, by sacrificing to that malig-
nity, or indulging that curious extravagance, which
too many readers, I am afraid, expect to find gra-
tified, even in writings of a moral kind.

Of the other works which he composed in this
last scene of his life, I forbear to make mention
here : they will be all enumerated in another place.
Let me only observe, that nothing can give a more
exalted idea of the fruitfulness and vigour of his,
genius, than the number and nature of those writings.
Under the discouragement of a public censure,
broken in his health, broken in his fortunes, he en-
joyed his retirement not above five years : a little
portion of time ! yet he found means to crowd into it
what might have been the whole business, and the
glory too, of a long and fortunate life. Some of his
former pieces he methodized and enriched : several
new ones he composed, no less considerable for the
greatness and variety of the arguments he treated,
than for his manner of treating them. Nor are they
works of mere erudition and labor, that require little
else but strength of constitution and obstinate appli^
cation : they are original efforts of genius and re-
flection, on subjects either new, or handled in a man-
ner that makes them so. His notions he drew from
his own fund ; and they were solid, comprehensive,
systematical; the disposition of his whole plan
throwing light and grace on all the particular parts.
In considering every subject, he seems to have placed
himself in a point of view so advantageous and ele-
vated, that he could from thence discover a whole
country round him, and mark out the several spots of
it, distinctly and with ease. These characters are
equally due to the works in which he made some pro?
sSj and to those he could only attempt,

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Iv

His supposed poverty has been much insisted on,
not only by our own writers, but by foreigners. Some Wilson.
of the former have asserted, that he languished out a
solitary being in obscurity and indigence : and among
the latter, Le Clerc, who was led into the same no-
tion by a passage in one of Howel's letters, has ani-
madverted with an honest indignation on the mean-
ness of that prince, who could leave such a man as
he was, to struggle, in his declining age, both with
penury and affliction. I believe the matter has been
exaggerated. Perhaps he did not enjoy affluence or
entire ease of fortune : but his ordinary income must
have placed him above sordid want and anxiety,
Dr. Rawley, who lived long in his family, affirms
that the king had given him, out of the Broad Seal
and Alienation office, to the value of eighteen hun-
dred pounds a year ; which, with his own lands,
amounting to a third part more, he retained to his
death. But then he had treasured up nothing in his
prosperous condition against the day of adversity :
and his pension was not only precarious, but ill paid,
by a king, who, instead of husbanding his revenues
for great or good purposes, was daily lavishing them
away, in fruitless negociations, or on the least de-
serving of his subjects. Add to these things, that
my lord Bacon lay all this time under the incum-
brance of a vast debt ; and that he had doubtless
expended very considerable sums in procuring or
making experiments. Even those, whom we see
close and sparing on every other occasion, are yet
profuse in gratifying a favorite passion. From all
which arose that distress and those difficulties into
which he was often plunged. That they were many
and great, we can entertain no doubt *. It is but
too strongly confirmed to us by some unusual ex-
pressions in his letters to king James ; where we find
him pouring out his heart in complaints and suppli-
cations of such a strain, as every one who reveres his

•* It appears by a letter of Buckingham to him, that he asked
for the provostship of Eton college, and was refused it.

Ivi The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

voTv. memory will w^h he had never uttered. Those who
Letter* insist on the meanness, those who plead for the dig-
CCLXXVT. n'ityy of human nature, may, in this one man, find
abundant matter to support their several opinions.
But, let us draw a veil over imperfections, and at the
same time acknowledge, that a very ordinary pene-
tration may serve to discover remarkable blemishes
and failings in the most comprehensive minds, in the
greatest characters, that ever adorned mortality.
An. 1625. King James died in 1625 ; after an inglorious and
*a*^v~*~/ a fatal reign of three and twenty years : despised by
foreigners, despised and hated by his own subjects.
The mischievous notions he broached, the perverse
conduct he held, gave rise to those divisions that
quickly after involved his kingdoms in all the guilt
and misery of a civil wrar : that shook the British
constitution to its foundations, and in the end over-
turned it , tho* apparently framed to last for ages, as
it had been ages in building up and perfecting.

His unfortunate chancellor survived him something
above a year. The multiplicity of business and study
in which he had been long engaged, but above all
the anguish of mind he secretly laboured under, had
•undermined and broken into his health. After hav-
ing been for some time infirm and declining, he
owed his death at last to an excess, not unbecoming
a philosopher; in pursuing, with more application
than his strength could bear, certain experiments
touching the conservation of bodies. He was so
suddenly struck in his head and stomach, that he
found himself obliged to retire into the earl of Arun-
del's house at Highgate, near which he then hap-
pened to be. There he sickened of a fever, attended
with a defluxion on his breast ; and, after a week's
An. 1626, illness, expired ; on the ninth of April, in the sixty-
V*Bv"*-' sixth year of his age. How he bore this indisposi-
tion, or what discourses he held at the nearer ap-
proaches of death, no account is to be found ; an
omission which every reader must feel and regret :
as nothing can awaken the attention, nothing affect
the heart of man more strongly than the behaviour of

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Ivii

eminent personages in their last moments ; in that
only scene of life wherein we are all sure, later or
sooner, to resemble them. There remains only a
letter, the last he ever wrote, addressed to that noble-
man under whose roof he died ; in which he com-
pares himself to a celebrated philosopher of anti-
quity, Pliny the elder ; who lost his life by inquiring,
with too dangerous a curiosity, into the first great
eruption of Vesuvius.

Thus lived and died the lord chancellor Bacon*.

He was buried privately in St. Michael's church
near St. Alban's. The spot that contains his re-
mains lay obscure and undistinguished, till the gra-
titude of a private man, formerly his servant, erected
a monument to his name and memory. In another
country, in a better age, his monument would have
stood a public proof in what veneration the whole
society held a citizen, whose genius did them honor,
and whose writings will instruct their latest posterity.

One passage in his will is remarkable. After
bequeathing his soul and body in the usual form, he
adds, " my name and memory I leave to foreign Baco
" nations ; and to mine own countrymen, after some p< 2

* He continued single till after forty, and then took to wife a
daughter of alderman Barn ham, of London, with whom he received a
plentiful fortune, but had by her no children : and she out-lived
him upwards of twenty years. Such readers as have any curiosity
to know what regimen he observed, may take the following account
of it in the words of his chaplain. " His diet was rather plentiful
and liberal than restrained. In his younger years he was much
given to the finer and lighter sorts of meats : but afterwards he
preferred the stronger, such as the shambles afforded ; as those
which bred the more firm and substantial juices, and less dissi-
pable. He did not, you may be sure, neglect that himself, which
he so much extolled to others in his writings, the frequent use of
nitre; whereof he took the quantity of about three grains in thin
warm broth every morning, for thirty years together. His ordi-
nary physic was a maceration of rhubarb, infused into a draught
of white wine and beer mingled together for the space of half an

Iviii

Voltaire,
Lcttres
sur les
Anglois,
p. 82.

Ra\vley's
Life of
Bacon.

Evelyn of
Medals,
p. 340.

Osborn's
Advire to
a Son.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

" time be passed over." As to the former, he was*
even in his life-time, looked upon with admiration
by the most eminent men that France and Italy
could then boast of; and by some of them visited,
as one whose talents were an ornament, not only to
his age, but to human nature itself. When the mar-
quis D'Effiat brought into England the princess Hen-
rietta-Maria, wife to Charles the first, he paid a visit
to my lord Bacon ; who, being then sick in bed,
received him with the curtains drawn. " You re-
" semble the angels, said that minister to him : we
cc hear those beings continually talked of, we believe
" them superior to mankind, and we never have the
cc consolation to see them." Among his countrymen,
the names, alone, of those who have adopted his
notions, and proceeded on his plan, are his highest
encomium. To pass over a long line of philosophers,
all illustrious ; he reckons in the list of his followers
a Boyle, a Locke, a Newton himself.

One singularity there was in his temperament, not
easily to be accounted for : in every eclipse of the
moon, whether he observed it or not, he was cer-
tainly seized with a sudden fit of fainting ; which
left him, without any remaining weakness, as soon
as the eclipse ended. He was of a middling stature ;
his forehead spacious and open, early impressed with
the marks of age ; his eye lively and penetrating ;
his whole appearance venerably pleasing : so that
the beholder was insensibly drawn to love, before
he knew how much reason there was to admire him.
In this respect, we may apply to my lord Bacon
what Tacitus finely observes of his father in law,
Agricola : a good man you would readily have judged
him to be, and been pleased to find him a great man.

Those talents that commonly appear single in
others, and they too men of reputation, shone forth
in him united and eminent. All his cotemporaries,
even those who hated the courtier, stand up and bear
witness together to the superior abilities of the writer
and pleader, of the philosopher and companion. In
conversation he could assume the most differing cha-

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. lix

racters, and speak the language proper to each, with
a facility that was perfectly natural ; or the dexterity
of the habit concealed every appearance of art : a
happy versatility of genius which all men wish to
arrive at, and one or two, once in an age, are seen
to possess. In public, he commanded the attention
of his hearers, and had their affections wholly in his
power. As he accompanied what he spoke with all
the expression and grace of action, his pleadings,
that are now perhaps read without emotion, never
failed to awaken in his audience the several passions
he intended they should feel. This is not a picture
of him drawn from fancy : it is copied, and that n.jnhmon,
but in miniature, after another taken by one who
knew him well; a good judge of merit, and seldom
known to err, at least in heightening a favorable like-
ness. As a philosopher, it is scarce hyperbolical to
say of him, in Mr. Addison's words, that he had the
sound, distinct, comprehensive knowledge of Aristo-
tle, with all the beautiful lights, graces, and embellish-
ments of Cicero. To this commendation of his talents,
the learned throughout Europe have given their com-
mon sanction, and own him for the father of the only
valuable philosophy, that of fact and observation.

It remains then to consider him, more particularly
than we have hitherto done, in this most known and
conspicuous part of his character; where his merit is
unquestionably great and intirely his own. For, to
the writings of the ancients he was not, he could not,
be obliged. They had either mistaken the right road
to natural knowledge ; or if any of them struck into
it by chance, finding the wray difficult, obscure, and
tedious, they soon abandoned it for ever. He owed
to himself alone, to a certain intellectual sagacity,
that beam of true discernment which shewed him at
once, and as it were by intuition, what the most
painful inquirers, for more than twenty ages back-
ward, had searched after in vain. And here let me
observe towards him the same impartiality I have
hitherto aimed at: and, in order to know what he
really did as a philosopher, place before the reader a

Ix The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

short view of the state of learning in Europe, from
the dark period of Gothicism down to the sixteenth
century. But let me at the same time acknowledge,
that this account will be only a rude and imperfect
sketch : consisting of a few detached particulars,
without much order or method.

Although the great era of ignorance has been fixed,
justly enough, to those times when the northern na-
tions, like a mighty inundation, overspread the face
of Europe; yet it is no less certain that barbarism
and corruption were entered into arts and sciences
ere the savages had made any impression on the Ro-
man empire. Under them indeed, that darkness
which had been long growing on the world, and
gradually extinguishing every light of knowledge,
soon became total, and threatened to be perpetual.
In the eighth century, we find that the highest am-
bition of the clergy was to vie with one another in
chanting the public service, which yet they hardly
understood. This important emulation run so high
between the Latin and French priesthood, that Char-
An. 787. lemagne, who was then at Rome, found it necessary
to interpose, and decide the controversy in person.

foannis r»"i .T » -, •« . rr- • • i

Canon I he monk, who relates this affair with a most cir-
op^t.iv. ciimstantial exactness, ' adds, that the emperor in-
treated pope Adrian to procure him certain persons,
who might teach his subjects the first principles of
grammar and arithmetic ; arts that were then utterly
unknown in his dominions. This warlike monarch,
though his own education had been so far neglected
that he had never learned to write, discovered, by
his natural good sense, the value of knowledge, and
set himself to be its promoter and patron. He even
allowed a public school to be opened in the imperial
palace, under the direction of our famous country-
man Alcuin ; on whom he chiefly relied for intro-
ducing into France some tincture of that philosophy
which was still remaining in Britain. But how slow
and ineffectual the progress of any learning must
have been, we may guess from an edict of the coun-
cil of Challons, in the next century ; which earnestly

77/6* "Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Ixi

exhorts all monasteries to be careful in having their
manuals of devotion correctly transcribed : lest, while ^aunoa,
they piously mean to ask of God one thing, some
inaccurate manuscript may betray them into praying
for the quite contrary.

As to Britain, if learning had still some footing Hist, ct
there in the eighth century, it was so totally exter- uSr,
minated from thence in the ninth ; that, throughout Ox™«
the whole kingdom of the West-Saxons, no man p
could be found who was scholar enough to instruct
our king Alfred, then a child, even in the first ele-
ments of reading : so that he was in his twelfth year
before he could name the letters of the alphabet.
When that renowned prince ascended the throne, he
made it his study to draw his people out of the sloth
and stupidity in which they lay : and became, as
much by his own example, as by the encouragement
he gave to learned men, the great restorer of arts in
his dominions. And here we are called upon to
observe, that as France had been formerly obliged
to England in the person of Alcuin, who planted
the sciences there under Charlemagne ; our island
now received the same friendly assistance from thence
by Grimbald, whom king Alfred had invited hither, $7*.
and made chancellor of Oxford. Such events as
these are too considerable, in the literary history of
the ninth age, to be passed over unobserved. The
rise of a noted grammarian, the voyage of an ap-
plauded doctor, are recorded by the chroniclers of
that century, with the same reverence that an ancient
writer would mention the appearance of a Lycur-
gus, or a Timoleon ; of a lawgiver who new-models
a state, or a hero who rescues a whole people from
slavery.

But these fair appearances were of short duration.
A night ot thicker darkness quickly overspread the
intellectual world : and in the moral, followed a
revolution still more deploiabl-j. To common sense
and piety, succeeded dreams and fables, visionary
legends and ridiculous penances. The clergy, now
Utter strangers to all good learning, instead of guiding

Jxii The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacoii.

a rude and vicious laity by the precepts of the gospel,
which they no longer read, amused them with forged
miracles, or overawed them by the ghostly terrors of
demons, spectres and chimeras. This was more easy,
and more profitable too, than the painful example of
a virtuous life. The profound depravity that was
spread through all conditions of men, ecclesiastic and
secular, appears in nothing more plain than in the
reasons assigned for calling several councils about
this time. In one, new canons were to be made,
forbidding adultery, incest, and the practice of pagan
superstitions: as if these things had not till then been
Giannone, accounted criminal. In another, it was found ne-
istor. di cessary to declare, that a number of angels worship-

Kapoii. i ' • T, i , • , , r

i. j. ped universally under certain names were altogether
unknown : and that the church could not warrant
the particular invocation of more than three. A
third, which the empress Irene had summoned for
the reformation of discipline, ordained, that no pre-
late should thenceforth convert his episcopal palace
into a common inn ; nor in consideration only of
any sum of money given him by one man, curse and
excommunicate another. A fourth and fifth censure
the indecency of avowed concubinage : and enjoin
that friers and nuns should no longer converse or
Jive promiscuously in the same convent.

The see of Rome, which should have been a pattern
to the rest, was of all Christian churches the most
licentious * ; and the pontifical chair often filled with

* The book intitled, The tax of the Roman Chancery, published
first at Rome, in the year 15 M-, furnishes us with a flagrant instance
of this in the following passage, which' I choose not to translate.
Absolutio a lapsu carnis super quocunque actu libidinoso commisso
per Clcricum, etiam cum monialibus% intra et extra septa monasterii ;
ant cum consanguiticis vel afiinibus, aut filia spiritual!, aut qui-
busdam aliis, sive ab unoquoque de per se, sive simul ab omnibus
absolutio petatur, cum dispensatione acl or dines et bencfwia, cum
inhibitione, tur. 36, due. 3. Si vero cum illis petatur, absolutio
etiam a crimine commisso contra naturum, vel cum bnttis, cum
clispensatione, ut supra, et cum inhibitione, tur. 90, due, 12,
carl. I 6. Si vero petatur tantum absolutio a crimine contra naturam,
" vel cum hrutis, cum dispensationc et inhibitione, turon. 36, due.
" 9. Absolutio pro Momali, quae se permisit pluries cognosci

TJie Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Ixiii

men, who, instead of adorning their sacred character,
made human nature itself detestable : a truth by
many catholic writers acknowledged and lamented.
Several popes were by their successors excommuni-
cated, their acts abrogated, and the sacraments ad-
ministered by them pronounced invalid. No less idem, 1.7.
than six were expelled by others who usurped their
seat ; two were assassinated : and the infamous The-
odora, infamous even in that age, by her credit in
the holy city obtained the triple crown for the most
avowed of her gallants, who assumed the name of
John the tenth. Another of the same name was John XL
called to govern the Christian world at the age of
twenty one ; a bastard son of Pope Sergius who died
eighteen years before. If such were the men who
arrogated to themselves titles and attributes peculiar
to the Deity, can we wonder at the greatest enor-
mities among lay-men ? Their stupidity kept pace
with the dissolution of their manners, which was ex-
treme : they still preserved, for the very clergy we
have been speaking of, a reverence they no longer
had for their God. The most abandoned among
them, miscreants, familiar with crimes that humanity
startles at, would yet, at the hazard of their lives,
defend the immunities of a church, a consecrated
utensil, or a donation made to a convent. In such
times as those, it were in vain to look for useful
learning and philosophy. Not only the light of sci-
ence, but of reason, seems to have been well-nigh
extinguished.

It was not till late, after the sack of Constantinople An. 1453,
by the Turks, that the writings of Aristotle began to
be universally known and studied. They were then,
by certain fugitive Greeks, who had escaped the
fury of the Ottoman arms, brought away and dis-
persed through the Western parts of Europe. Some
particular treatises of his, it is true, had been long

" intra et extra septa monasterii, cum rehabilitate ad dignitates ill i us
" ordinis, etium abbatiakm, turon. 36, due. 9." In the edition of
Bois-le-duc, there is "Absolutio pro co, qui intcrfecit patrem, matrem,
'* sororem, uxorem ,., , . g. 5, vel 7." Vide Bayle, art, . .BANCK.

Ixiv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

made public ; but chiefly in translations from the
Arabic, done by men who, far from rendering faith-
fully the author's sense, hardly understood his lan-
guage. These however gave birth to the scholastic
philosophy; that motley offspring of error and inge-
nuity ; and to speak freely, the features of both pa-
rents were all along equally blended in the com-
plexion of the daughter. To trace at length the rise,
progress, and variations of this philsophy, would be
an undertaking not only curious but instructive, as
it would unfold to us all the mazes in which the
force, the subtlety, the extravagance of human wit
can lose themselves : till not only profane learning
but divinity itself was at last, by the refined frenzy
of those who taught both, subtilized into mere notion
and air.

Their philosophy was neither that of Aristotle en-
tirely, nor altogether differing from his. Whatever
opinions the first founders of it had been able to
draw, from Boetius his Latin commentator, or from
the wretched translations above-mentioned, these
they methodized and illustrated, each according to
his several talent, and the genius of the age he lived
in. Bat this, instead of producing one regular and
consistent body of science, even from wrong prin-
ciples, ended in a monster, made up of parts every
where mishapen and dissimilar. Add to this, that
they left natural knowledge wholly uncultivated ; to
hunt after occult qualities, abstract notions, and
questions of impertinent curiosity, by which^they ren-
dered the very logic their labours chiefly turned upon
intricate, useless, unintelligible.

Alstedius, in his chronology of the schoolmen, has
divided their history into three principal periods or

An. 1050. successions : the first beginning with Lanfranc, arch-
bishop of Canterbury, who flourished about the middle
of the eleventh century ; and ending with Albert the

An. 1320. Great two ages later: the second, that commences
from him, determining in Durand ; as the third and

Tomhiii0r' *ast enc^e^ *n Luther, at the reformation. Morhoff,
p. 73, etc. however, strenuously contends, that Rucclinus, an

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. IxV

Englishman, was properly the father of the schoolmen :
and that to him the sect of the Nominalists owed its
rise and credit. He adds, that it revived afterwards
in the person of Occam, another of our countrymen,
and the perpetual antagonist of Duns Scotus, who
had declared for the Realists, and was reckoned their
ablest champion. The learned reader needs not be
told, that the scholastic doctors were all distinguish-
ed into these two sects; formidable party-names
which are now as little known or mentioned as the
controversies that once occasioned them. It is suf-
ficient to say, that, like all other parties, they hated
each other heartily ; treated each other as heretics in
logic : and that their disputes \vere often sharp and
bloody ; ending not only in the metaphorical de-
struction of common sense and language, but in the
real mutilation and death of the combatants. For,
to the disgrace of human reason, mankind in all
their controversies, whether about a notion or a
thing, a predicament or a province, have made their
last appeal to brute force and violence. The titles*
with which these leaders were honored by their fol-
lowers, on account of the sublime reveries they
taught, are at once magnificent and absurd : and
prove rather the superlative ignorance of those times,
than any transcendent merit in the men to whom they
were applied. From this censure wre ought never-
theless to except one, who was a prodigy of know-
ledge for the age he lived in, and is acknowledged as
such by the age to which I am writing. I mean the
renowned frier Bacon, who shone forth singly
through the profound darkness of those times; but
rather dazzled than enlightened the weaker eyes of his
cotemporaries. As if the name of Bacon were au-
spicious to philosophy, this man, not only without
assistance or encouragement, but insulted and per-
secuted, by the unconquerable force of his genius

* The profound, the subtile, the marvellous, the indefatigable,
the irrefragable, the angelic, the seraphic, the fountain of life,
light of the world, etc.

VOL. I.

Ixvi Tlic Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

penetrated far into the mysteries of nature, and made
so many new discoveries in astronomy and perspec-
tive, in mechanics and chemistry, that the most sober
writers even now cannot mention them without some
marks of emotion and wonder. It is Dr. Freind's
observation, that he was almost the only astronomer
of his age : and the reformation of the calendar, by
him attempted and in a manner perfected, is a noble
proof of his skill in that science. The construction
of spectacles, of telescopes, of all sorts of glasses that
magnify or diminish objects, the composition of gun-
powder (which Bartholdus Svvartz is thought to have
first hit upon almost a century later) are some of the
many inventions with justice ascribed to him. For
all which, he was in his life -time calumniated, im-
prisoned, oppressed : and after his death wounded
in his good name, as a magician who had dealt in
arts, infernal and abominable. He tells us, that
there were but four persons then in Europe who had
made any progress in the mathematics ; and in che-
mistry yet fewer: that those who undertook to trans-
late Aristotle were every way unequal to the task ;
and that his writings, which, rightly understood,
Bacon considered as the fountain of all knowledge,
had been lately condemned and burned, in a synod
held at Paris.

The works of that celebrated ancient have, in truth,
more exercised the hatred and admiration of man-
kind, than those of all the other philosophers toge-
Lib. de ther : Launoy enumerates no less than thirty-seven
for?unanst* f^hers of the church who have stigmatized his name,
Tom. iv. and endeavoured to reprobate his doctrines. Mor-
hoff has reckoned up a still greater number of his
Poiyhistor. commentators, who were at the same time implicitly
jm'u' his disciples ; and yet both these authors are far from
having given a complete list either of his friends or
enemies. In his life-time he was suspected of irre-
ligion, and, by the pagan priesthood, marked out
for destruction : the successors of those very men
were his partizans and admirers. His works met
with much the same treatment from the Christian

'The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Ixvii

clergy: sometimes proscribed for heretical; some*
times" triumphant and acknowledged the great bul-
wark of orthodoxy. Launoy has written a particular
treatise on the subject, and mentioned eight different
revolutions in the fortune and reputation of Aristotle's
philosophy. To pass over the intermediate changes, I
Will just mention two, that make a full and ridiculous
contrast. In the above-mentioned council held at
Paris about the year 1209, the bishops there censured
his writings, without discrimination, as the pestilent L^unoii»

r° i ^ ^ 1 ubl supra.

sources Or error and heresy ; condemned them to the
flames, and commanded all persons, on pain of ex-
communication, not to read, transcribe, or keep any
copies of them. They went farther, and delivered
over to the secular arm no less than ten persons, who
were burned alive, for certain tenets, drawn, as those
learned prelates had heard, from the pernicious books
in question. In the sixteenth century, those very
books were not only read with impunity, but every
where taught with applause : and whoever disputed
their orthodoxy, I had almost said their infallibility,
was persecuted as an infidel and miscreant. Of this
the sophister Ramus is a memorable instance. Cer-
tain animadversions of his on the peripatetic philo-
sophy occasioned a general commotion in the learned
world. The university of Paris took the alarm hotly,
and cried out against this attempt as destructive of all
good learning, and of fatal tendency to religion
itself. The affair was brought before the parliament ; Launoii,
and appeared of so much consequence to Francis the tom- rv.

T*» \ 1 • 11- P' ^Qk.

rirst, that he would needs take it under his own im-
mediate cognisance. The edict is still extant, which
declares Ramus insolent, impudent, and a lyar. His ioth of
books are thereby for ever condemned, suppressed,
abolished : and what is a strain of unexampled seve-
rity, the miserable author is solemnly interdicted
from transcribing, even from reading his own com-
positions !

We might from hence be led to imagine, that
when the authority of an ancient philsopher was held
so sacred, philosophy itself must have been thoroughly

f2

Ixviii T/ie Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

understood, and cultivated with uncommon success ;
but the attachment of those doctors was to a name,
not to truth, or valuable science : and our author very
Justty comParcs them to the Olympic wrestlers, who
abstained from necessary labors, that they might be
fit for such as were not so. Under their manage-
ment, it was a philosophy of words and notions, that
seemed to exclude the study of nature ; that, instead
of inquiring into the properties of bodies, into the
laws of motion by which all effects are produced,
was conversant only in logical definitions, distinc-
tions, and abstractions, utterly barren and unpro-
ductive of any advantage to mankind. The great
aim of those solemn triflers was rather to perplex a
dispute, than to clear up any point of useful dis-
quisition ; to triumph over an enemy, than to enlarge
the knowledge, or better the morals of their fol-
lowers. So that this captious philosophy was a real
obstacle to all advances in sound learning, human
and divine. After it had been adopted into the
Christian theology, far from being of use to explain
and ascertain mysteries, it served to darken and ren-
der doubtful the most necessary truths ; by the chi-
canery of argumentation with which it supplied each
sect, 'in defence of their peculiar and favorite illu-
sions. To so extravagant a height did they carry
their idolatry of Aristotle, that some of them dis-
covered, or imagined they discovered in his writings,
the doctrine of the Trinity ; that others published
formal dissertations to prove the certainty of his sal-
vation, though a heathen : and that a patriarch of
Venice is said to have called up the devil expressly,
in order to learn from him the meaning of a hard
an. wor(j jn Aristotle's Physics. But the crafty demon,
who perhaps did not understand it himself, answered
in 'a voice so low and inarticulate, that the good
prelate knew not a word he said. This was the
famous Hermolaus Barbaro : and the Greek word,
that occasioned his taking so extraordinary a step, is
the Entelechia of the Peripatetics ; from whence the
schoolmen raised their substantial forms, and which

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

Leibnitz, towards the end of the last century, at-
tempted to revive in his theory of motion.

The reformation itself, that diffused a new light
over Europe, that set men upon inquiring into errors
and prepossessions of every kind, served only to
confirm the dominion of this philosophy : protestants
as well as papists entrenching themselves behind the
authority of Aristotle, and defending their several,
tenets by the weapons with which he furnished
them. This unnatural alliance of theology with the
peripatetic doctrines rendered his opinions not only
venerable but sacred : they were reckoned as the
land marks of both faith and reason, which to pull
up or remove would be daring and impious. Inno-
vations in philosophy, it was imagined, would gra-
dually sap the very foundations of religion, and in
the end lead to downright atheism. If that veil of
awful obscurity, which then covered the face of na-
ture, should be once drawn ; the rash curiosity of
mankind would lead them to account for all appear-
ances in the visible world, by second causes, by the
powers of matter and mechanism : and thus they
might come insensibly to forget or neglect the great
original cause of all. This kind of reasoning con-
vinced the multitude, over-awed the wiser few,
and effectually put a stop to the progress of useful
knowledge.

Such, in general, were the dispositions of man-
kind when Sir Francis Bacon came into the world ;
whom we will not consider as the founder of a new
sect, but as the great assertor of human liberty ; as
one who rescued reason and truth from the slavery in
which all sects alike had, till then, held them. As
a plausible hypothesis, a shining theory, are more
amusing to the imagination, and a shorter way to
fame, than the patient and humble method of expe-
rimenting, of pursuing nature through all her laby-
rinths by fact and observation ; a philosophy built on
this principle, could not, at first, make any sudden
or general revolution in the learned world. But its
progress, like that of time, quiet, slow, and sure,

Ixx The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

has in the end been mighty and universal. He was
•* not however the first among the moderns who ven-
tured to dissent from Aristotle. Ramus, Patricias,
Bruno, Severinus, to nam<* no more, had already
attacked the authority of that tyrant in learning, who
had long reigned as absolutely over the opinions of
men, as his restless pupil had of old affected to do
over their persons. But these writers invented little
that was valuable themselves, however justly they
might reprehend many things in him. And as to
the real improvements made in some parts of natural
knowledge before our author appeared, by Gilbert,
Harvey, Copernicus, father Paul, and some few
others, they are well known, and have been de-
servedly celebrated. Yet there was still wanting one
great and comprehensive plan, that might embrace
the almost infinite varieties of science, and guide
our inquiries aright in all. This Sir Francis Bacon
first conceived, in its utmost extent ; to his own last-
ing honor, and to the general utility of mankind.
If we stand surprised at the happy imagination of
such a sytem, our surprise redoubles upon us when
we reflect, that he invented and methodized this
system, perfected so much, and sketched out so
much more of it, amidst the drudgery of business and
the civil tumults of a court. Nature seems to have
intended him peculiarly for this province, by be-
stowing on him with a liberal hand all the qualities
requisite : a fancy voluble and prompt to discover
the similitudes of things j a judgment steady and in*
tent to note their subtlest differences ; a love of me-
ditation and inquiry; a patience in doubting; a
slowness and diffidence in affirming ; a facility of
retracting ; a careful anxiety to plan and dispose.
A mind of such a cast, that neither affected novelty,
nor idolized antiquity, that was an enemy to all
imposture, must have had a certain congeniality and
relation to truth. These characters, which, with a
noble confidence, he has applied to himself, are ob-
Bacon, vious and eminent in his Instauration of the Sciences :
\oi.vii, by him designed, not as a monument to his

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Ixxi

own fame, but a perpetual legacy to the common
benefit of others. He has divided the whole of it
into six capital parts ; with a short account of which
we shall close this imperfect relation of his life and
writings.

1. The first part of this Installation proposes a De aus-

1 . . , mentis,

general survey or human knowledge : and this he
executed in that admirable treatise, intitled, The
Advancement of Learning. As he intended to raise
a new and lasting structure of philosophy, founded
not in arbitrary opinions or specious conjectures, but
in truth and experience -, it was absolutely necessary
to his design, first to review accurately the state of
learning as it then stood, through all its provinces
and divisions. To do this effectually required, with
an uncommon measure of knowledge, a discernment
not only exquisite but universal : the whole intellec-
tual world was subjected to its examination and
censure. That he might not lose himself on a subject
so vast and of such variety ; he has, according to the
three faculties of the soul, memory, fancy, under-
standing, ranged the numerous train of arts under
three great classes, history, poetry, philosophy.
These may be considered as the principal trunks from
which shoot forth, in prodigious diversity, the lesser
parts and branches of science. "Whatever is deficient,
erroneous, or still wanting in each, he has pointed
out at large : together with the properest means for
amending the defects, for rectifying the errors, and
for supplying the omissions in all. Upon the whole,
he was not only well acquainted with every thing
that had been discovered in books before his time,
and able to pronounce critically on those discoveries :
he saw clearly, and at the end of this treatise has
marked out in one general chart, the several tracts of
science that lay still neglected or unknown. And to
say truth, some of the most valuable improvements
since made have gro\vn out of the hints and notices
scattered through this work : from which the moderns
have selected, each according to his fancy, one or
more plants to cultivate and bring to perfection.

Ixxii

Novum
Organon.

Fhaeno-
n en i

vr.iversi.

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

2. The design of the Novum Organon, which
stands as the second part to his Installation, and
may be reckoned the most considerable, was to raise
and enlarge the powers of the mind, by a more use-
ful application of its reasoning faculty to all the dif-
ferent objects that philosophy considers. In this
place, our author offers to the world a new and
better logic ; calculated not to supply arguments for
controversy, but arts for the use of mankind ; not to
triumph over an enemy by the sophistry of disputa-
tion, but to subdue nature itself by experiment and
inquiry. As it differs from the vulgar logic in its
aim, it varies no less from that captious art in the
form of demonstrating: for it generally rejects syllo-
gism, as an instrument rather hurtful than service-
able to the investigation of nature, and uses in its
stead a severe and genuine induction. Not the trivial
method of the schools, that, proceeding on a sim-
ple and superficial enumeration, pronounces at once
from a few particulars, exposed to the danger of con-
tradictory instances: but an induction that examines
scrupulously the experiment in question, views it in
all possible lights, rejects and excludes whatever
does not necessarily belong to the subject; then,
and not till then, concluding from the affirmatives
left. A croud of instances might be brought to
shew how greatly this method of inquiry has pro-
spered in the hands of the moderns ; and how fruit-
iul it has been of new discoveries, unknown and un-
imagined by antiquity. But I will only mention one
that may stand in place of many j the Optics of our
immortal Newton : where, in a variety of experi-
ments, he has analysed the nature and properties of
light itself, of the most subtile of all bodies, with an
accuracy, a precision, that could harxily ha.e been
expected from examining the grossest and most
palpable. From whence, by the method of induc-
tion, he has raised the noblest theory that any age
or country can shew.

3. It has been the fate of almost every considera-
ble scheme for the good of mankind to be treated,

The Life of the Lord Chvncdlor Bacon. Ixxiii

at first, as visionary, or impracticable, merely for
being new. This our author foresaw, and endea-
voured to obviate, in the third part of his Inslaura-
tion; by furnishing materials himself towards a na-
tural and experimental history; a work which he
thought so indispensably necessary, that without it
the united endeavours of all mankind, in all ages,
would be insufficient to rear and perfect the great
structure of the sciences. He was aware too, that
even men of freer and more extensive notions, who
relished his new logic, might be deterred from re-
ducing it to practice, by the difficulties they would
meet with in experimenting, according to the rules
by him prescribed. He therefore led the way to
other inquires in his Sylva Sylvarum, or history of
nature: which, however imperfect in many respects,
ought to be looked upon as extensive and valuable for
that age, when the whole work was to be begun. This
collection, which did not appear till after his death,
has been generally considered as detached from, and
independent on his general plan : and therefore his
design in making and recording these experiments has
not been duly attended to by the reader. They are a
common repository or store-house of materials, not
arranged for ornament and show, but thrown loosely
together for the service of the philosopher: who may
from thence select such as fit his present purpose;
and with them, by the aid of that organ or engine
already described, build up some part of an axiomati-
cal philosophy, which is the crown and comple-
tion of this system. The phenomena of the universe B.TW,.
he ranges under three principal divisions; the history Voi.vni.
of generations, or the production of all species ac-
cording to the common laws of nature; that of pre-
ter-generations, or of births deviating from the stated
rule; and thirdly, the history of nature as confined
or assisted, changed or tortured by the art of man;
which last discloses to us a new face of things, and
as it were another world of appearances. The use
of such a history he reckons two-fold ; either the know-
ledge of qualities in themselves : or to serve for the

Ixiv The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

iirst matter of a true and useful philosophy. With
this view only did our author make and gather together
the miscellaneous collection I am speaking of. That
many particular experiments have been found doubt-
ful or false, cannot be wondered at : the whole was
then a tract of science uncultivated and desert. If
several considerable men, treading in the path he
struck out for them, have gone farther and surveyed it
more exactly than he did, yet to him is the honor
of their discoveries in a manner due. It was Co-
lumbus alone who imagined there might be a new
world; and who had the noble boldness to go in
search of it, through an ocean unexplored and im-
mense. He succeeded in the attempt; and led his
followers into a spacious continent, rich and fruitful.
If succeeding adventurers have penetrated farther than
he into its several regions, marked out and distin-
guished them with more accuracy ; the result of
these discoveries has less extended their fame than it
has raised and enlarged his.

scaiain- 4. After these preparations, nothing seems want-
ictus' ing but to enter at once on the last and most exalted
kind of philosophy: but the author judged, that in an
affair so complicated and important, some other things
ought to precede, partly for instruction, and partly for
present use. He therefore interposed a fourth and
Bfth part, the former of which he named ticala In-
tdlectiiSy or a series of steps by which the understand-
ing might regularly ascend in its philosophical re-
searches. For this purpose he proposed examples of
inquiry and investigation, agreeable to his own me-
thod, in certain subjects; selecting such especially as
are of the noblest order, and most widely differing
from one another, that instances of every sort might
not be wanting. The fourth part then was to con-
tain a particular application and illustration of the
second. In this light we choose to consider the six
monthly histories which he proposed to write on
six principal topics in natural history: namely, of
winds; of life and death; of rarefaction and con~
densation; of the three chemical principles, salt, sul-

The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Ixxv

phur, mercury; of bodies heavy and light; of sympathy
and antipathy. The first three, in the order I have here
placed them, he prosecuted at some length ; and in a
manner that shews with what a happy sagacity he
could apply his own rules to the interpretation of na-.
ture. The wonder is, that other inquirers since his time
have done so little towards perfecting the two first
mentioned, things of so great concern to human so-
ciety, and to every individual. As to the three last,
\ve have only a short introduction to each: death
having prevented him from writing any thing on the
subjects themselves. Such is our condition here:
whoever is capable of planning useful and extensive
schemes dies always too soon for mankind, even in
the most advanced age.

5. Of the fifth part he has left nothing but the ^rs'?a-
title and scheme. It was indeed to be only a tern- Phiio«.
porary structure, raised with such materials as he sccunj3e-
himself had either invented, or tried, or improved ;

not according to the due form of genuine induction,
but by the same common use of the understanding
that others had employed. And this was to remain
no longer than till he had raised,

6. The sixth and sublimest part of this grand In- fiittoso-
stauration, to which all the precedent are merely
subservient ; a philosophy purely axiomatical and sci-
entitle; flowing from that just, castigated, genuine
manner of inquiry, which the author first invented

and applied. But this he despaired of being able to
accomplish; and the learned of all countries from
his days have been only laboring some separate
or lesser parts of this amazing edifice, which ages to
come may not see finished according to the model left
them by this one man.

Such, and so unlimited were his views for the uni-
versal advancement of science ; the noble aim to
which he directed all his philosophic labors. What
Caesar said, in compliment to Tully, may, with strict
justice, be applied to him ; that it was more glorious
to have extended the limits of human wit, than i<>
have enlarged the bounds of the Roman world. Sir

Ixxvi The Life of the Lord Chancellor Bacon.

Francis Bacon really did so: a truth acknowledged
not only by the greatest private names in Europe, but
by all the public societies of its most civilized na-
tions. France, Italy, Germany, Britain, I may add
even Russia, have taken him for their leader, and
submitted to be governed bv his institutions. The em-
pire he has erected in the learned world is as uni-
versal as the free use of reason : and one must con-
tinue, till the other is no more.

PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS.

THE

TWO BOOKS

OF

FRANCIS BACON,

OF THE

PROFICIpNCE AND ADVANCEMENT

OF

LEARNING,

DIVINE AND HUMAN

TO THE KING.

•

THE

FIRST BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON

OF THE

PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT

• OF

LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN.

TO THE KING.

1 HERE were under the law, excellent king, both
daily sacrifices, and freewill offerings : the one pro-
ceeding upon ordinary observance, the other upon a
devout chearfulness : in like manner there belongeth
to kings from their servants, both tribute of duty,
and presents of affection. In the former of these, I
hope I shall not live to be wanting, according to my
most humble duty, and the good pleasure of your ma-
jesty's employments : for the latter, I thought it more
respective to make choice of some oblation, which
might rather refer to the propriety and excellency
of your individual person, than to the business of
your crown and state.

Wherefore representing your majesty many times
unto my mind, and beholding you not with the in-
quisitive eye of presumption, to discover that which
the Scripture telleth me is inscrutable, but with the
observant eye of duty and admiration : leaving aside
the other parts of your virtue and fortune, 1 have
been touched, yea, and possessed with an extreme
wonder at those your virtues and faculties, which the
philosophers call intellectual : the largeness of your
capacity, the faithfulness of your memory, the swift-
ness of your apprehension, the penetration of your

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book L

judgment, and the facility and order of your elocu-
tion : and I have often thought, that of all the persons
living that I have known, your majesty were the best
instance to make a man of Plato's opinion, that all
knowledge is hut remembrance, and that the mind of
man by nature knoweth all things, and hath but her
own native and original notions (which by the strange-
ness and darkness of this tabernacle of the body are
sequestered) again revived and restored: such a light
of nature I have observed in your majesty, and such
a readiness to take flame, and blaze from the least
occasion presented, or the least spark of another's
knowledge delivered. And as the Scripture saith of
the wisest king, That his heart was as the sands of the
sea ; which though it be one of the largest bodies,
yet it consisteth of the smallest and finest portions: so
hath Gocl given your majesty a composition of under-
standing admirable, being able to compass and com-
prehend the greatest matters, and nevertheless to
touch and apprehend the least ; whereas it should
seem an impossibility in nature, for the same instru-
ment to make itself fit for great and small works.
And for your gift of speech, I call to mind what
Cornelius Tacitus saith of Augustus Caesar ; August o
prqflucns, et CJIKE principem decerct, eloquentia fuit :
For, if we note it well, speech that is uttered with
labour and difficulty, or speech that savoureth of the
affectation of art and precepts, or speech that is
framed after the imitation of some pattern of elo-
quence, though never so excellent ; all this has some-
what servile, and holding of the subject. But your
majesty's manner of speech is indeed prince-like, flow-
ing as from a fountain, and yet streaming and branch-
ing itself into nature's order, full of facility and feli-
city, imitating none, and inimitable by any. And as
in your civil estate there appeareth to be an emula-
tion and contention of your majesty's virtue with your
fortune ; a virtuous disposition with a fortunate regi-
ment ; a virtuous expectation, when time was, of
your greater fortune, with a prosperous possession
thereof in the due time ; a virtuous observation of the

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

laws of marriage, with most blessed and happy fruit
of marriage ; a virtuous and most Christian desire of
peace, with a fortunate inclination in your neighbour
princes thereunto: so likewise, in these intellectual
matters, there seemeth to be no less contention be-
tween the excellency of your majesty's gifts of nature,
and the universality and perfection of your learning.
For I am well assured, that this which I shall say is
no amplification at all, but a positive and measured
truth ; which is, that there hath not been since Christ's
time any king or temporal monarch, which hath been
so learned in all literature and erudition, divine and
human. For let a man seriously and diligently re-
volve and peruse the succession of the emperors of
Rome, of which Caesar the dictator, who lived some
years before Christ, and Marcus Antoninus, were the
best learned; and so descend to the emperors of
Graecia, or of the West; and then to the lines of
France, Spain, England, Scotland, and the rest, and he
shall find this judgment is truly made. For it seemeth
much in a king, if, by the compendious extractions
of other mens wits and labours, he can take hold
of any superficial ornaments and shews of learn-
ing, or if he countenance and prefer learning and
learned men : but to drink indeed of the true foun-
tains of learning, nay, to have such a fountain of
learning in himself, in a king, and in a king born,
is almost a miracle. And the more because there is
met in your majesty a rare conjunction, as well of
divine and sacred literature, as of profane and human;
so as your majesty standeth invested of that triplicity,
which in great veneration was ascribed to the ancient
Hermes : the power and fortune of a king, the know-
ledge and illumination of a priest, and the learning
and universality of a philosopher. This propriety,
inherent and individual attribute in your majesty, de-
serveth to be expressed, not only in the fame and
admiration of the present time, nor in the history or .
tradition of the ages succeeding ; but also in some
solid work, fixed memorial, and immortal monument,
bearing a character or signature, both . of the power
VOL, i,

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

of a king, and the difference and perfection of such
a king.

Therefore I did conclude with myself, that I could
not make unto your majesty a better oblation, than of
some treatise tending to that end, whereof the sum
will consist of these two parts ; the former* concern-
ing the excellency of learning and knowledge, and
the excellency of the merit and true glory m the aug-
mentation and propagation thereof: the latter, what
the particular acts and works are, which have been
embraced and undertaken for the advancement of
learning ; and again, what defects and undervalues I
find in such particular acts : to the end, that though.
I cannot positively or affirmatively advise your ma-
jesty, or propound unto you framed particulars ; yet I
may excite your princely cogitations to visit the ex-
cellent treasure of your own mind, and thence to ex-
tract particulars for this purpose, agreeable to your
magnanimity and wisdom,

IN the entrance to the former of these, to clear the
way, and, as it were, to make silence, to have the true
testimonies concerning the dignity of learning to be
better heard, without the interruption of tacit ob-
jections ; I think good to deliver it from the discredits
and disgraces which it hath received, all from igno-
rance, but ignorance severally disguised > appearing
sometimes in the zeal and jealousy of divines, some-
times in the severity and arrogancy..of politicians, and
sometimes in the errors and imperfections of learned
men themselves.

I hear the former sort say, that * knowledge is of
those things which are to be accepted of with great
limitation and caution; that the aspiring to overmuch
knowledge, was the original temptation and sin,
whereupon ensued the fall of man ; that knowledge
hath in it somewhat of the serpent, and therefore
where it entereth into a man it makes him swell ;
Scientia injlat : that Solomon gives a censure, That
there is no end of making books, and that much read-
ing is a weariness of the fleshy and again in another

feook I.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

place, That in spacious knowledge there is much con-
tristatioiiy and that he that increaseth knowledge in-
creased anxiety ; that St. Paul gives a caveat, That
we be not spoiled through vain philosophy ; that experi-
ence demonstrates how learned men have been arch-
heretics, how learned times have been inclined to
atheism, and how the contemplation of second causes^
doth derogate from our dependance upon God who
is the first cause.

To discover then the ignorance and error of this
opinion, and the misunderstanding in the grounds
thereof, it may well appear these men do not observe
or consider, that it was not the pure knowledge of
nature and universality, a. knowledge by the light,
Whereof man did give' names unto other creatures in
paradise, as they were brought before him, according
unto their proprieties, which gave occasion to the
fall ; but it was the proud knowledge of good and
evil, with an intent in man to give law unto himself,
and to depend no more upon God's commandments,
which was the form of the temptation. Neither is
it any quantity of knowledge, how great soever, that
can make the mind of man to swell ; for nothing can
fill, much less extend the soul of man, but God,
and the contemplation of God ; and therefore Solo-
mon, speaking of the two principal senses of inqui-
sition, the eye and the ear, affirmeth that the eye is
never satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing;
and if there be no fulness, then is the continent
greater than the content : so of knowledge itself,
and the mind of man, whereto the senses are but
reporters, he defineth likewise in these words, placed
after that calendar or ephemerides, which he maketh
of the diversities of times and seasons for all actions
and purposes ; and concludeth thus : God hath made
all things beautiful, or decent, in the true return of their-
seasons : Also he hath placed the world in mans hearty
yet cannot man find out the work which God workcth
from the beginning to the end: declaring, not ob-
scurely, that God hath framed the mind of man as a
mirror, or glass, capable of the image of the universal

B 2

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

world, and joyful to receive the impression thereof,
as the eye joyeth to receive light ; and not only de-
lighted in beholding the variety of things, and vicissi-
tude of times, but raised also to find out and discern
the ordinances and decrees, which throughout all
those changes are infallibly observed. And although
he doth insinuate, that the supreme or summary law
of nature, which he calleth, The work which God
zoorketh from the beginning to the end, is not possible
to be found out by man ; yet that doth not derogate
from the capacity of the mind, but may be referred
to the impediments, as of shortness of life, ill con-
junction of labours, ill tradition of knowledge over
from hand to hand, and many other inconveniencies,
whereunto the condition of man is subject. For that
nothing parcel of the world is denied to man's in-
quiry and invention, he doth in another place rule
over, when he saith, The spirit of man is as the lamp
of Gody wherewith he searcheth the inwardness of all
secrets. If then such be the capacity and receipt
of the mind of man, it is manifest, that there is no
danger at all in the proportion or quantity of know-
ledge, how large soever, lest it should make it swell
or out compass itself; no, but it is merely the quality
of knowledge, which be it in quantity more or less,
if it be taken without the true corrective thereof, hath
in it some nature of venom or malignity, and some
effects of that venom, which is ventosity or swelling.
This corrective spice, the mixture whereof maketh
knowledge so sovereign, is charity, which the apostle
immediately addeth to the former clause ; for so he
saith, knowledge bloweth up, but charity buildeth up;
not unlike unto that which he delivereth in another
place : // / spake, saith he, with the tongues of men
and angels, and had not charity, it were but as a tink-
ling cymbal ; not but that it is an excellent thing to
speak with the tongues of men and angels, but be-
cause, if it be severed from charity, and not referred
to the good of men and mankind, it hath rather a
sounding and unworthy glory, than a meriting and
substantial virtue. And as for that censure of Solo-

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

mon, concerning the excess of writing and reading
books, and the anxiety of spirit which redoundeth
from knowledge ; and that admonition of St. Paul,
That we be not seduced by vain philosophy ; let those
places be rightly understood, and they do indeed ex-
cellently set forth the true bounds and limitations,
whereby human knowledge is confined and circum-
scribed ; and yet without any such contracting or
coarctation, but that it may comprehend all the uni-
versal nature of things; for these limitations are
three : the first, that we do not so place our felicity
in knowledge, as to forget our mortality. The
second, that we make application of our knowledge,
to give ourselves repose and contentment, and not
distaste or repining. The third, that we do not pre-
sume by the contemplation of nature to attain to the
mysteries of God. For as touching the first of these,
Solomon doth excellently expound himself in another
place of the same book, where he saith ; / saw well
that knowledge recedeth as far from ignorance, as light
doth from darkness -> and that the wise mans eyes keep
watch in his head, ivhej^eas the fool roundeth about in
darkness : but withal I learned, that the same mortality
involveth them both. And for the second, certain it
is, there is no vexation or anxiety of mind which re-
sulteth from knowledge, otherwise than merely by
accident; for all knowledge, and wonder (which is
the seed of knowledge) is an impression of pleasure
in itself: but when men fall to framing conclusions
out of their knowledge, applying it to their particu-
lar, and ministring to themselves thereby weak fears,
or vast desires, there grovveth that carefulness and
trouble of mind which is spoken of: for then know-
ledge is no more Lumen siccum, whereof Heraclitus,
the profound, said, Lumen siccum optima anima s but
it becometh Lumen madidum, or maceratum, being
steeped and infused in the humours of the affections.
And as for the third point, it deserveth to be a little
stood upon, and not to be lightly passed over : for if
any man shall think by view and inquiry into these
sensible and material things to attain that light, where-

JO Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

by he may reveal unto himself the nature or will of
God, then indeed is he spoiled by vain philosophy :
for the contemplation of God's creatures and works
produceth (having regard to the works and creatures
themselves) knowledge ; but having regard to God,
no perfect knowledge, but wonder, which is broken
knowledge. And therefore it was most aptly said
by one of Plato's school, u That the sense of man
" carrieth a resemblance with the sun, which, as we
" see, openeth and revealeth all the terrestrial globe ;
" but then again it obscureth and concealeth the,
" stars and celestial globe : so doth the sense dis-
ts cover natural things, but it darkeneth and shutteth
<c up divine.*' And hence it is true, that it hath
proceeded, that divers great learned men have been
heretical, whilst they have sought to fly up to the
secrets of the Deity by the waxen wings of the
senses : and as for the conceit that too much know-
ledge should incline a man to atheism, and that the
ignorance of second causes, should make a more
devout dependence upon God who is the first cause :
First, it is good to ask the question which Job asked
of his friends : Will you lie for God, as one man zvill
do for another, to gratify him ? For certain it is, that
God worketh nothing in nature but by second causes;
and if they would "have it otherwise believed, it is
mere imposture, as it were in favour towards God \
and nothing else but to offer to the author of truth
the unclean sacrifice of a lie. But farther, it is an
assured truth, and a conclusion of experience, that a
little or superficial knowledge of philosophy may
incline the mind of man to atheism, but a farther
proceeding therein doth bring the mind back again
to religion ; for in the entrance of philosophy, when
the- second causes, which are next unto the senses, do
offer themselves to the mind of man, if it dwell and
stay there, it may induce some oblivion of the high-
est cause; but when a man passeth on farther, and
seeth the dependence of causes, and the works of
providence ; then, according to the allegory of the
poets,, he will easily believe that the highest link of

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 11

nature's chain must needs be tied to the foot of
Jupiter's chair. To conclude therefore : let no man,
upon a weak conceit of sobriety, or an ill-applied
moderation, think or maintain, that a man can search
too far, or be too well studied in the book of God's
word, or in the book of God's works ; divinity or
philosophy ; but rather let men endeavour an endless
progress, or proficience in both; only let men beware
that they apply both to charity, and not to swelling ;
to use, and not to ostentation ; and again, that they
do not unwisely mingle, or confound these learnings
together.

And as for the disgraces which learning receiveth
from politicians, they be of this nature ; that learning
doth soften mens minds, and makes them more unapt
for the honour and exercise of arms ; that it doth mar
and pervert mens dispositions for matter of govern-
ment and policy, in making them too curious and
irresolute by variety of reading, or too peremptory or
positive by strictness of rules and axioms, or too im-
moderate and overweening by reason of the greatness
of examples, or too incompatible and differing from
the times, by reason of the dissimilitude of examples ;
or at least, that it doth divert mens travels from action
and business, and bringeth them to a love of leisure
and privateness ; and that it doth bring into states a
relaxation of discipline, whilst every man is more
ready to argue, than to obey and execute. Out of
this conceit, Cato, surnamed the Censor, one of the
wisest men indeed that ever lived, when Carneades
the philosopher came in embassage to Rome, and that
the young men of Rome began to flock about him,
being allured with the sweetness and majesty of his
eloquence and learning, gave counsel in open senate,
that they should give him his dispatch with all speed,
lest he should infect and inchant the minds and affec-
tions of the youth, and at unawares bring in an al-
teration of the manners and customs of the state. Out
of the same conceit, or humour, did Virgil, turning
his pen to the advantage of his country, and the
disadvantage of his own profession, make" a kirjd of

12 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

separation between policy and government, and be-
tween arts and sciences, in the verses so much re-
nowned, attributing and challenging the one to the
Romans, and leaving and yielding the other to the
Grecians ; Tit regere imperio populos, Romane, me-
mento, H<e tibi erunt artes, etc. So likewise we see
that Anytus, the accuser of Socrates, laid it as an
article of charge and accusation against him, that he
did, with the variety and power of his discourses and
disputations, withdraw young men from due reverence
to the laws and customs of their country ; and that
he did profess a dangerous and pernicious science,
which was, to make the worst matter seem the better,
and to suppress truth by force of eloquence and
speech.

But these, and the like imputations, have rather
a countenance of gravity, than any ground of justice:
for experience doth warrant, that both in persons and
in times, there hath been a meeting and concurrence
in learning and arms, flourishing and excelling in the
same men, and the same ages. For, as for men, there
cannot be a better, nor the like instance, as of that
pair, Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar the
dictator; whereof the one was Aristotle's scholar in
philosophy, and the other was Cicero's rival in elo-
quence : or if any man had rather call for scholars
that were great generals, than generals that were great
scholars, let him take Epaminondas the Theban, or
Xenophon the Athenian ; whereof the one was the
first that abated the power of Sparta, and the other
was the first that made way to the overthrow of the
monarchy of Persia. And this concurrence is yet
more visible in times than in persons, by how much
an age is a greater object than a man. For both in
./Egypt, Assyria, Persia, Graecia, and Rome, the same
times that are most renowned for arms, are likewise
most admired for learning ; so that the greatest au-
thors and philosophers, and the greatest captains and
governors, have lived in the same ages. Neither can
it otherwise be : for as, in man, the ripeness of strength
of the body and mind cometh much about an age,

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 13

save that the strength of the body cometh somewhat
the more early ; so in states, arms and learning, where-
of the one corresponded! to the body the other to
the soul of man, have a concurrence or near sequence
in times.

And for matter of policy and government, that
learning should rather hurt, than enable thereunto,
is a thing very improbable : we see it is accounted
an error to commit a natural body to empiric physi-
cians, which commonly have a few pleasing receipts,
whereupon they are confident and adventurous, but
know neither the causes of diseases, nor the com-
plexions of patients, nor peril of accidents, nor the
true method of cures : we see it is a like error to rely
upon advocates or lawyers which are only men of
practice, and not grounded in their books, who are
many times easily surprised, when matter falleth out
besides their experience, to the prejudice of the causes
they handle : so, by like reason, it cannot be but a
matter of doubtful consequence, if states be managed
by empiric statesmen, not well mingled with men
grounded in learning. But contrariwise, it is almost
without instance contradictory, that ever any govern-
ment was disastrous that was in the hands of learned
governors. For howsoever it hath been ordinary with
politic men to extenuate and disable learned men by
the names of pedants ; yet in the records of time it
appeareth, in many particulars, that the governments
of princes in minority (notwithstanding the infinite
disadvantage of that kind of state) have nevertheless
excelled the government of princes of mature age,
even for that reason which they seek to traduce,
which is, that by that occasion the state hath been
in the hands of pedants: for so was the state of
Rome for the first five years, which are so much mag-
nified, during the minority of Nero, in the hands of
Seneca, a pedant : so it was again, for ten years space
or more, during the minority of Gordianus the younger,
with great applause and contentation in the hands of
Misitheus, a pedant : so was it before that, in the
minority of Alexander Severus, in like happiness, in

14 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

hands not much unlike, by reason of the rule of the
women, who were aided by the teachers and precep-
tors. Nay, let a man look into the government of
the bishops of Rome, as by name, into the government
of Pius Quintus, and Sextus Quintus, in our times,
who were both at their entrance esteemed but as
pedantical friers, and he shall find that such popes do
greater things, and proceed upon truer principles of
state, than those which have ascended to the papacy
from an education and breeding in affairs of state and
courts of princes ; for although men bred in learning
are perhaps to seek in points of convenience, and ac-
commodating for the present, which the Italians call
ragioni di stato, whereof the same Pius Quintus could
not hear spoken with patience, terming them inven-
tions against religion and the moral virtues ; yet on
the other side, to recompense that, they are perfect
in those same plain grounds of religion, justice, ho-
nour, and moral virtue, which if they be well and
watchfully pursued, there will be seldom use of those
other, no more than of physic in a sound or well-
dieted body. Neither can the experience of one
man's life furnish examples and precedents for the
events of one man's life : for as it happeneth some-
times that the grandchild, or other descendant, re-
sembleth the ancestor more than the son ; so many
times occurrences of present times may sort better
with ancient examples, than with those of the later
or immediate times : and lastly, the wit of one man
can no more countervail learning, than one man's
means can hold way with a common purse.

And as for those particular seducements, or indis-
positions of the mind for policy and government, which
learning is pretended to insinuate; if it be granted
that any such thing be* it must be remembered withal,
that' learning ministreth in every of them greater
strength of medicine or remedy, than it offereth cause
of indisposition or infirmity ; tor if, by a secret ope-
ration, it makes men perplexed and irresolute, on the
other side, by plain precept, it teacheth them when and
upon what ground to resolve 5 yea, and how to carry

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 15

things in suspense without prejudice, till they resolve;
if it make men positive and regular, it teacheth them
what things are in their nature demonstrative, and
what are conjectural; and as well the use of distinc-
tions and exceptions, as the latitude of principles and
rules. If it mislead by disproportion, or dissimilitude
of examples, it teacheth men the force of circum-
stances, the errors of comparisons, and all the cau-
tions of application; so that in all these it doth rec-
tify more effectually than it can pervert. And these
medicines it conveyeth into mens minds much more
forcibly by the quickness and penetration of examples.
For let a man look into the errors of Clement the se-
venth, so lively described by Guicciardine, who served
under him, or into the errors of Cicero, painted out
by his own pencil in his epistles to Atticus, and he will
fly apace from being irresolute. Let him look into the
errors of Phocion, and he will beware how he be ob-
stinate or inflexible. Let him but read the fable of
Ixion, and it will hold him from being vaporous or
imaginative. Let him look into the errors of Cato
the second, and he will never be one of the Anti-
podes, to tread opposite to the present world.

And for the conceit, that learning should dispose
men to leisure and privateness, and make men slothful ;
it were a strange thing if that, which accustometh
the mind to a perpetual motion and agitation, should
induce slothfulness ; whereas contrariwise it may be
truly affirmed, that no kind of men love business for
itself, but those that are learned ; for other persons
love it for profit, as an hireling, that loves the work for
the wages ; or for honour, as because it beareth them
up in the eyes of men, and refresheth their reputa-
tion, which otherwise would wear; or because it
putteth them in mind of their fortune, and giveth
them occasion to pleasure and displeasure ; or because
it exerciseth some faculty wherein they take pride,
and so entertaineth them in good humour and pleas-
ing conceits toward themselves; or because it ad-
vanceth any other their ends. So that, as it is said
of untrue valours, that some mens valours are in the

16 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book L

eyes of them that look on ; so such mens industries are
in the eyes of others, or at least in regard of their own
designments : only learned men love business, as an
action according to nature, as agreeable to health
of mind, as exercise is to health of body, taking
pleasure in the action itself, and not in the purchase :
so that of all men they are the most indefatigable, if
it be towards any business which can hold or detain
their mind.

And if any man be laborious in reading and study,
and yet idle in business and action, it groweth from
some weakness of body, or softness of spirit 3 such as
Seneca speaketh of: Quidam tarn sunt umbratiles, ut
putcnt in turbido esse, quicquid in luce esti and not
of learning : well may it be, that such a point of a
man's nature may make him give himself to learning,
but it is not learning that breedeth any such point in
his nature.

And that learning should take up too much time or
leisure : I answer ; the most active or busy man that
hath been or can be, hath, no question, many vacant
times of leisure, while he expecteth the tides and re-
turns of business (except he be either tedious and of
no dispatch, or lightly and unworthily ambitious to
meddle in things that may be better done by others:)
and then the question is but, how those spaces and
times of leisure shall be filled and spent ; whether in
pleasures or in studies ; as was well answered by De-
mosthenes to his adversary ^Eschines, that was a man
given to pleasure, and told him, that his orations did
smell of the lamp : " Indeed," said Demosthenes,
" there is a great difference between the things that
cc you and I do by lamp-light." So as no man need
doubt that learning will expulse business ; but ra-
• ther it will keep and defend the possession of the
mind against idleness and pleasure, which otherwise
at unawares may enter, to the prejudice of both.

Again, for that other conceit, that learning should
undermine the reverence of laws and government,
it is assuredly a mere depravation and calumny, with-
out any shadow of truth. For to say, that a blind

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 17

custom of obedience should be a surer obligation,
than duty taught and understood; it is to affirm, that
a blind man may tread surer by a guide, than a see-
Ing man can by a light. And it is without all contro-
versy, that learning doth make the minds of men
gentle, generous, amiable and pliant to government ;
whereas ignorance makes them churlish, thwarting,
and mutinous: and the evidence of time doth clear
this assertion, considering that the most barbarous,
rude, and unlearned times have been most subject
to tumults, seditions, and changes.

And as to the judgment of Cato the' Censor, he
was well punished for his blasphemy against learn-
ing, in the same kind wherein he offended; for
when he was past threescore years old, he was taken
with an extreme desire to go to school again, and
to learn the Greek tongue, to the end to peruse the
Greek authors; which doth well demonstrate, that his
former censure of the Grecian learning was rather an
affected gravity, than according to the inward sense
of his own opinion. And as for Virgil's verses, though
it pleased him to brave the world in taking to the
Romans the art of empire, and leaving to others the
arts of subjects ; yet so much is manifest, that the Ro-
mans never ascended to that height of empire, till the
time they had ascended to the height of other arts.
For in the time of the two first Caesars, which had
the art of government in greatest perfection, there
lived the best poet, Virgilius Maro; the best historio-
grapher, Titus Livius ; the best antiquary, Marcus
Varro; and the best, or second orator, Marcus Cicero,
that to the memory of man are known. As for the ac-
cusation of Socrates, the time must be remembered
when it was prosecuted ; which was under the thirty
tyrants, the most base, bloody, and envious persons
that have governed; which revolution of state was
no sooner over, but Socrates, whom they had made
a person criminal, was made a person heroical, and
his memory accumulate with honours divine and
human; and those* discourses of his, which were then
termed corrupting of manners, were after acknow-

18 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book 1*

ledged for sovereign medicines of the mind and man-
ners, and so have been received ever since till this day*
Let this therefore serve for answer to politicians,
which, in their humorous severity, or in their feigned
gravity, have presumed to throw imputations upon
learning; which redargution, nevertheless, (save that
we know not whether our labours may extend to
other ages) were not needful for the present, in
regard of the love and reverence towards learning,
which the example and countenance of two so
learned princes, queen Elizabeth, and your majesty,
being as Castor and Pollux, lucida sidera, stars
of excellent light and most benign influence, hath
wrought in all men of place and authority in our
nation.

Now therefore we come to that third sort of dis-
credit, or diminution of credit, that groweth unto
learning from learned men themselves, which com-
monly cleaveth fastest : it is either from their fortune,
or from their manners, or from the nature of their
studies. For the first, it is not in their power ; and
.the second is accidental ; the third only is proper
to be handled : but because we are not in hand
with true measure, but with popular estimation and
conceit, it is not amiss to speak somewhat of the
two former. The derogations therefore, which grow
to learning from the fortune or condition of learned
men, are either in respect of scarcity of means, or
in respect of privateness of life, and meanness of
employments.

Concerning want, and that it is the case of learned
men usually to begin with little, and not to grow
rich so fast as other men, by reason they convert not
their labours chiefly to lucre and increase: It were
good to leave the common place in commendation
of poverty to some frier to handle, to whom much
was attributed by Machiavel in this point; when he
said, " That the kingdom of the clergy had been
" long before at an end, if the reputation, and re-
" verence towards the poverty of friers had not borne
" out the scandal of the superfluities and excesses of

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 19

cc bishops and prelates." So a man might say, that the
felicity and delicacy of princes and great persons had
long since turned to rudeness and barbarism, if the
poverty of learning had not kept up civility and
honour of lire: but, without any such advantages,
it is worthy the observation, what a reverend and
honoured thing poverty of fortune was, tor some ages,
in the Roman state, which nevertheless was a state
without paradoxes: for we see what Titus Livius saith
in his introduction : dcterum ant me amor negotii
suscepti fallity ant nulla iniquam rcspubtica n?c jnaior,
nee sanctior, nee bonis exemplis ditior fit it ; nee in
qnam tarn ser^e avaritia lu.niriaque inBwgraoerint ; nee
iibi tantus ae tarn din paupertati ac parsimom\c honos
fuerit. We see likewise, after that the state of Rome
was not itself, but did degenerate, how that person,
that took upon him to be counsellor to Julius Caesar
after his victory, where to begin his restoration of the
state, niaketh it of all points the most summary to
take away the estimation of wealth: J~crum Iht\
omnia mala paritcr cum honor c pccunic desinenf, si
ncqiie magistratus, jieqite alia rulgo cuptenda, renalia
erunt. To conclude this point, as it was truly said,
that rubor esl virtutis color, though sometimes it comes
from vice : so it may be fitly said that pauperlascst rir-
tutls for tuna ; though sometimes it may proceed from
misgovernment and accident. Surely Solomon hath
pronounced it both in censure, 2ui festinat ad di-
vi fiiif, non erit insons s and in precept; Buij the truth,
and sell it not ; and so of wisdom and knowled
judging that means were to be spent upon learning,
and not learning to be applied to means. An,
for the privatenesSj or obscureness ^:is it mitv be in
vulgar estimation accounted) of life of contempla-
tive men ; it is a theme so common, to extol a private
liie not taxed with sensuality and sloth, in compari-
son, and to the disadvantage of a civil life, for safety,
liberty, pleasure, and dignity, or at least freedom
from indignity, as no man handleth it, but handleth
it well: such a consonancy it hath to mens conceits
in the expressing, and to mens consents in the al-

i

20 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

lowing. This only I will add, that learned men for-
gotten in states, and not living in the eyes of men,
are like the images of Cassius and Brutus in the fu-
neral of Junia; of which not being represented, as
many others were, Tacitus saith, Eo ipso pntfidge-
bant, quod non risebantur.

And for meanness of employment, that which is
most traduced to contempt, is, that the government of
youth is commonly allotted to them ; which age, be-
cause it is the age of least authority, it is transferred
to the disesteeming of those employments wherein
youth is conversant, and which are conversant about
youth. But how unjust this traducement is (if you
will reduce things from popularity of opinion to
measure of reason) may appear in that, we see men
are more curious what they put into a new vessel,
than into a vessel seasoned; and what mould they lay
about a young plant, than about a plant corroborate;
so as the weakest terms and times of all things use
to have the best applications and helps. And will you
hearken to the Hebrew Rabbins? Your young men
shall see visions y and your old men shall dream dreams :
say they, youth is the worthier age, for that visions are
nearer apparitions of God than dreams. And let it
be noted, that howsoever the condition of life of pe-
dants hath been scorned upon theatres, as the ape of
tyranny ; and that the modern looseness or negligence
hath taken no due regard to the choice of school-
masters and tutors ; yet the ancient wisdom of the best
times did always make a just complaint, that states
were too busy with their lawrs, and too negligent in
point of education: which excellent part of ancient
discipline hath been in some sort revived of late times,
by the colleges of the Jesuits; of whom, although in
regard of their superstition I may say, quo meliores, eo
deteriores ; yet in regard of this, and some other points
concerning human learning and moral matters, I may
say, as Agesilaus said to his enemy Pharnabasus,
Talis quum sis9 utinam noster esses. And thus much
touching the discredits drawn from the fortunes of
learned men.

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 21

As touching the manners of learned men, it Is a
thing personal and individual : and no doubt there be
amongst them, as in other professions, of all tem-
peratures : but yet so as it is not without truth, which
is said, that abeunt stiidia in mores, studies have an in-
fluence and operation upon the manners of those
that are conversant in theiru

But upon an attentive and indifferent review, T, for
my part, cannot find any disgrace to learning can
proceed from the manners of learned men not in-
herent to them as they are learned ; except it be
a fault (which was the supposed fault of Demosthenes,
Cicero, Cato the second, Seneca, and many more)
that, because the times they read of are commonly
better than the times they live in, and the duties
taught better than the duties practised, they contend
sometimes too far to bring things to perfection, and
to reduce the corruption of manners to honesty of
precepts, or examples of too great height. And yet
hereof they have caveats enough in their own walks.
For Solon, when he was asked whether he had given
his citizens the best laws, answered wisely, " Yea, of
such as they would receive :" and Plato, finding that
his own heart could not agree with the corrupt man-
ners of his country, refused to bear place or office ;
saying, <c That a man's country was to be used as his
( parents were, that is, with humble persuasions, and
' not with contestations." And Caesar's counsellor
put in the same caveat, No?i ad vetera instituta re-
vocans, qua jam pr idem corruptis moribus ludibrio sunt :
and Cicero noteth this error directly in Cato the
second, w^hcn he writes to his friend Atticus ; Cato
op time sentit, sed nocet interdum reipublicte ; loquitur
cnim tanquam in respublica Platonis, non tanquam in
face Romidi. And the same Cicero doth excuse and
expugn the philosophers for going too far, and being
too exact in their prescripts, when he saith, I'sti ipsi
prtfceptorcs virtutis, et magistri videnter , fines officiorum
paulo longius, quam natura vellef, protulisse, ut cum ad
idtimum animo contendissemus, ibi lumen, ubi oportet,
con-sistercmus : and yet himself might have said,
VOL. i. c

22 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

Monitis sum minor ipse meis ; for it was his own
fault, though not in so extreme a degree.

Another fault likewise much of this kind hath
been incident to learned men ; which is, that they
have esteemed the preservation, good and honour of
their countries or masters, before their own fortunes
or safeties. For so saith Demosthenes unto the
Athenians : " If it please you to note it, my counsels
" unto you are not such, whereby I should grow
*c great amongst you, and you become little amongst
" the Grecians : but they be of that nature, as they
" are sometimes not good for me to give, but are al-
" ways good for you to follow." And so Seneca,
after he had consecrated that Quinquennium Nerom's
to the eternal glory of learned governors, held on his
honest and loyal course of good and free counsel,
after his master grew extremely corrupt in his go-
vernment. Neither can this point otherwise be ; for
learning endueth mens minds with a true sense of
the frailty of their persons, the casualty of their for-
tunes, and the dignity of their soul and vocation : so
that it is impossible for them to esteem that any
greatness of their own fortune can be a true or
worthy end of their being and ordainment ; and
therefore are desirous to give their account to God,
and so likewise to their masters under God (as kings
and the states that they serve) in these woiUs ; Eccc
tibi lucrcfeci, and not Ecce mild lucrefeci : whereas the
cormpter sort of mere politicians, that have not their
thoughts established by learning in the love and ap-
prehension of duty, nor ever look abroad into uni-
versality, do refer all things to themselves, and thrust
themselves into the centre of the world, as if all lines
should meet in them and their fortunes ; never caring,
in all tempests, what becomes of the ship of state, so
they may save themselves in the cockboat of their
own fortune ; whereas men that feel the weight of
duty, and know the limits of self-love, use to make
good their places and duties, though with peril. And
if they stand in seditious and violent alterations, it is
rather the reverence which manv times both adverse

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning^ 23

parties do give to honesty, than any versatile ad-
vantage of their own carriage. But for this point of
tender sense, and fast obligation of duty, which
learning doth endue the mind withal, howsoever for-
tune may tax it, and many in the depth of their
corrupt principles may despise it, yet it will receive
an open allowance, and therefore needs the less dis-
proof or excusation.

Another fault incident commonly to learned men,
which may be more probably defended than truly
denied, is, that they fail sometimes in applying them-
selves to particular persons : which want of exact ap-
plication ariseth from two causes ; the one, because
the largeness of their mind can hardly confine itself to
dwell in the exquisite observation or examination of
the nature and customs of one person : for it is a
speech for a lover, and not for a wise man : Satis
magnum alter alter i theatrum sumus. Nevertheless I
shall yield, that he that cannot contract the sight of
his mind, as well as disperse and dilate it, wanteth
a great faculty. But there is a second cause, which
is no inability, but a rejection upon choice and judg-
ment: for the honest and just bounds of observation,
by one person upon another, extend no farther, but
to understand him sufficiently, whereby not to give
him offence, or whereby to be able to give him faith-
ful counsel, or whereby to stand upon reasonable
guard and caution, in respect of a man's self: but to
be speculative into another man, to the end to know
how to work him, or wind him, or govern him, pro-
ceedeth from a heart that is double and cloven, and
not entire and ingenuous ; which as in friendship it
is want of integrity, so towards princes or superiors
is want of duty. For the custom of the Levant,
•which is, that subjects do forbear to gaze or fix their
^yes upon princes, is in the outward ceremony bar-
barous, but the moral is good : for men ought not, by
cunning and bent observations, to pierce and pene-
trate into the hearts of kings, which the scripture hath
declared to be inscrutable.

There is yet another fault (with which I will con-
c 2 v

24 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

elude this part) which is often noted in learned men,
that they do many times fail to observe decency and
discretion in their behaviour and carriage, and com-
mit errors in small and ordinary points of action,
so as the vulgar sort of capacities do make a judg-
ment of them in greater matters, by that which they
find wanting in them in smaller. But this conse-
quence doth often deceive men, for which I do refer
them over to that which was said by Themistocles,
arrogantly and uncivilly being applied to himself out
of his own mouth ; but, being applied to the general
state of this question, pertinently and justly ; when,
being invited to touch a lute, he said, " he could
ec not fiddle, but he could make a small town a great
cc state." So, no doubt, many may be well seen in
the passages of government and policy, which are to
seek in little and punctual occasions. I refer them
also to that which Plato said of his master Socrates,
whom he compared to the gallypots of apothecaries,
which on the outside had apes and owls, and antiques,
but contained within sovereign and precious liquors
and confections ; acknowledging, that to an external
report he was not without superficial levities and
deformities, but was inwardly replenished with ex-
cellent virtues and powers. And so much touching
the point of manners of learned men.

But in the mean time J have no purpose to give
allowance to some conditions and courses base and
unworthy, wherein divers professors of learning have
wronged' themselves, and gone too far ; such as were
those trencher philosophers, which in the later age
of the Roman state were usually in the houses of
great persons, being little better than solemn pa-
rasites ; of which kind, Lucian maketh a merry de-
scription of the philosopher that the great lady took
to ride with her in her coach, and would needs have
him carry her little dog, which he doing officiously,
and yet uncomely, the page scoffed, and said, " That
." he doubted, the philosopher of a Stoic would turn
to be Cynic." But above all the rest, the gross
palpable flattery, whereunto many, not .un-

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 25

learned, have abased and abused their wits and pens,
turning, as Du Bartas saith, Hecuba into Helena, and
Faustina into Lucretia, hath most diminished the
price and estimation of learning. Neither is the
modern dedication of books and writings, as to
patrons, to be commended : for that books, such as
are worthy the name of books, ought to have no
patrons but truth and reason. And the ancient
custom was, to dedicate them only to private and
equal friends, or to intitle the books with their
names ; or if to kings and great persons, it was to
some such as the argument of the book was fit and
proper for: but these and the like courses may de-
serve rather reprehension than defence.

Not that I can tax or condemn the morigeration or
application of learned men to men in fortune. For
the answer was good that Diogenes made to one that
asked him in mockery, " How it came to pass that
" philosophers were the followers of rich men, and
" not rich men of philosophers ?" He answered
soberly, and yet sharply, " Because the one sort knew
what they had need of, and the other did not."
And of the like nature was the answer which Ari-
stippus made, when having a petition to J3ionysius,
and no ear given to him, he fell down at his feet ;
whereupon Dionysius staid, and gave him the hear-
ing, and granted it ; and afterward some person,
tender on the behalf of philosophy, reproved Ari-
stippus, that he would offer the profession of philo-
sophy such an indignity, as for a private suit to fall
at a tyrant's feet. But he answered, " It was not his
" fault, but* it was the fault of Dionysius that he had
" his ears in his feet." Neither was it accounted
weakness, but discretion in him that would not
dispute his best with Adrianus Cxsar ; excusing
himself, " That jt was reason to yield to him that
" commanded thirty legions." These and the like
applications, and stooping to points of necessity and
convenience, cannot be disallowed : for though they
may have some outward baseness, yet in a judgment
truly made, they are to be accounted submissions tQ
the occasion, and not to the person.

26 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

Now I proceed to those errors and vanities, which
have intervened amongst the studies themselves of
the learned, which is that which is principal and
proper to the present argument ; wherein my purpose
is not to make a justification of the errors, but, by a
censure and separation of the errors, to make a justn
fication of that which is good and sound, and to de-
liver that from the aspersion of the other. For we
see, that it is the manner of men to scandalize and
deprave that which retaineth the state and virtue, by
taking advantage upon that which is corrupt and de-
generate : as the heathens in the primitive church
used to blemish and taint the Christians with the
faults and corruptions of hereticks. But nevertheless
I have no meaning at this time to make any exact
animadversion of the errors and impediments in mat-
ters of learning, which are more secret and remote
from vulgar opinion, but only to speak unto such as
do fall under, or near unto, a popular observation.

There be therefore chiefly three vanities in studies,
whereby learning hath been most traduced. For
those things we do esteem vain, which are either
false or frivolous, those which either have no truth,
or no use : and those persons we esteem vain, which
are either credulous or curious ; and curiosity is
either in matter, or words : so that in reason, as well
as in experience, there fall out to be these three dis-
tempers, as I may term them, of learning : the first,
fantastical learning ; the second, contentious learn-
ing ; and the last, delicate learning; vain imagina-
tions, vain altercations, and vain affectations \ and
with the last I will begin.

Martin Luther, conducted no doubt by an higher
providence, but in discourse of reason, finding what
a province he had undertaken against the bishop of
Rome, and the degenerate traditions of the church,
and finding his own solitude, being no ways aided
by the opinions of his own time, was enforced to
awake all antiquity, and to call former times to his
succour, to make a party against the present time.
So that the ancient authors, both in divinity, and in

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 27

humanity, which had long time slept in libraries,
began generally to be read and revolved. This by
consequence did draw on a necessity of a more ex-
quisite travel in the languages original, wherein those
authors did write, for the better understanding of
those authors, and the better advantage of pressing
and applying their words. And thereof grew again
a delight in their manner of style and phrase, and an
admiration of that kind of writing; which was much
furthered and precipitated by the enmity and opposi-
tion, that the propounders of those primitive, but
seeming new, opinions had against the schoolmen,
who were generally of the contrary part, and whose
writings were altogether in a differing stile and form,
taking liberty to coin, and frame new terms of art
to express their own sense, and to avoid circuit of
speech, without regard to the pureness, pleasant-
ness, and, as I may call it, lawfulness, of the phrase or
word. And again, because the great labour then
was with the people, of whom the Pharisees were
wont to say, Execrabilis ista turba, qu# non novit
legem ; for the winning and persuading of them,
there grew of necessity in chief price and request,
eloquence and variety of discourse, as the fittest and
forciblest access into the capacity of the vulgar sort :
so that these four causes concurring, the admiration
of ancient authors, the hate of the schoolmen, the
exact study of languages, and the efficacy of preach-
ing, did bring in an affected study of eloquence,
and copia of speech, which then began to flourish.
This grew speedily to an excess ; for men began to
hunt more after words than matter ; and more after
the choiceness of the phrase, and the round and
clean composition of the sentence, and the sweet
falling of {be clauses, and the varying and illustration
of their works with tropes and figures, than after the
weight of matter, worth of subject, soundness of ar-
gument, life of invention, or depth of judgment.
Then grew the flowing and watry vein of Osorius,
the Portugal bishop, to be in price. Then did Stur-
mius spend such infinite and curious pains upon

28 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I,

Cicero the orator, and Hermogenes the rhetorician,
besides his own books of periods, and imitation, and
the like. Then did Car of Cambridge, and Ascham,
with their lectures and writings, almost deify Cicero
and Demosthenes, and allure all young men, that
were studious, unto that delicate and polished kind
of learning. Then did Erasmus take occasion to
make the scoffing echo ; Decem annos consumpsi in
legendo Cicerone: and the echo answered in Greek,
'NOi/g, Asine. Then grew the learning of the school-
men to be utterly despised as barbarous. In sum,
the whole inclination and bent of those times was
rather towards copia, than weight.

Here therefore is the first distemper of learning,
when men study words, and not matter: whereof
though I have represented an example of late times,
yet it hath been, and will be secundum majus et minuv
in all time. And how is it possible but this should
have an operation to discredit learning, even with
vulgar capacities, when they see learned mens works
like the first letter of a patent, or limned book ;
which though it hath large flourishes, yet it is but
a letter? It seems to me that Pygmalion's frenzy is a
good emblem or portraiture of this vanity : for words
are but the images of matter, and except they have
life of reason and invention, to fall in love with
them is all one, as to fall in love with a picture.

But yet, notwithstanding, it is a thing not hastily
to be condemned, to clothe and adorn the obscurity,
even of philosophy itself, with sensible and plausible
elocution ; for hereof we have great examples in
Xenophon, Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, and of Plato
also in some degree ; and hereof likewise there is
great use : for surely, to the severe inquisition of
truth, and the deep progress into philosophy, it is
some hindrance ; because it is too early satisfactory
to the mind of man, and quencheth the desire of
farther search, before we come to a just period :
but then, if a man be to have any use of such know-
ledge in civil occasions, of conference, counsel, per^
suasion, discourse, or the like ; then shall he find it

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 29

prepared to his hands in those authors which write
in that manner. But the excess of this is so justly
contemptible, that as Hercules, when he saw the
image of Adonis, Venus's minion, in a temple, said
in disdain, Nil sacri es ; so there is none of liercules's
followers in learning, that is, the more severe and
laborious sort of inquirers into truth, but will despise
those delicacies and affectations, as indeed capable
of no divineness. And thus much of the first disease
or distemper of learning.

The second, which followeth, is in nature worse
than the former : for as substance of matter is better
than beauty of words, so, contrariwise, vain matter
is worse than vain words; wherein it seemeth the
reprehension of St. Paul was not only proper for
those times, but prophetical for the times following;
and not only respective to divinity, but extensive to
all knowledge: Devita prof anas vocum novitates, et
oppositiones falsi nominis sdentice. For he assigneth
two marks and badges of suspected and falsified
science : the one, the novelty and strangeness of
terms ; the other, the strictness of positions, which
of necessity doth induce oppositions, and so questions
and altercations. Surely, like as many substances
in nature which are solid, do putrify and corrupt
into worms ; so it is the property of good and sound
knowledge, to putrify and dissolve into a number of
subtle, idle, unwholsome, and, as I may term them,
vermiculate questions, which have indeed a kind of
quickness, and life of spirit, but no soundness of
matter, or goodness of quality. This kind of dege-
nerate learning did chiefly reign amongst the school-
men, who, having sharp and strong wits, and abun-
dance of leisure, and small variety of reading ; but
their wits being shut up in the cells of a few authors,
chiefly Aristotle their dictator, as their persons were
shut up in the cells of monasteries and colleges, and
knowing little history, either of nature or time, did,
out of no great quantity of matter, and infinite agita-
tion of wit, spin out unto us those laborious webs of
learning, which are extant in their books. For the

3O Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, which
is the contemplation of the creatures of God, work-
eth according to the stuff, and is limited thereby :
but if it work upon itself, as the spider worketh his
web, then it is endless, and brings forth indeed cob-
webs of learning, admirable for the fineness of thread
and work, but of no substance or profit.

The same unprofitable subtilty or curiosity is of
two sorts ; either in the subject itself that they handle,
when it is a fruitless speculation, or controversy,
whereof there are no small number both in divinity
and philosophy, or in the manner or method of hand-
ling of a knowledge, which amongst them was this ;
upon every particular position or assertion to frame
objections, and to those objections, solutions ; which
solutions were for the most part not confutations,
but distinctions : whereas indeed the strength of all
sciences is, as the strength of the old man's faggot,
in the band. For the harmony of a science, support-
ing each part the other, is and ought to be the true
and brief confutation and suppression of all the
smaller sort of objections. But, on the other side,
if you take out every axiom, as the sticks of the
faggot, one by one, you may quarrel with them, and
bend them, and break them at your pleasure : so that
as was said of Seneca, Verborum minutiis rerum fran-
git pondera : so a man may truly say of the school-
men, Qucestionum minutiis scientiarum frangunt solidi-
tatem. For were it not better for a man in a fair
room, to set up one great light, or branching candle-
stick of lights, than to go about with a small watch
candle into every corner? And such is their method,
that rests not so much upon evidence of truth proved
by arguments, authorities, similitudes, examples, as
up'on particular confutations and solutions of every
scruple, cavillation, and objection ; breeding for the
most part one question, as fast as it solveth another;
even as in the former resemblance, when you carry
the light into one corner, you darken the rest : so
that the fable and fiction of Sailla seemeth to be a
lively image of this kind of philosophy or knowledge,

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 3 1

who was transformed into a comely virgin for the
upper parts ; but then, Candida succmctam, latranti^
bus inguina monstris : so the generalities of the school-
men are for a while good and proportionable ; but
then, when you descend into their distinctions and
decisions, instead of a fruitful womb, for the use and
benefit of man's life, they end in monstrous alter^
cations, and barking questions. So as it is not pos-
sible but this quality of knowledge must fall under
popular contempt, the people being apt to contemn
truth upon occasion of controversies and altercations,
and to think they are all out of their way which
never meet : and when they see such digladiation
about subtilties, and matters of no use or moment,
they easily fall upon that judgment of Dionysius of
Syracuse, Verb a ista sunt senum otiosorum.

Notwithstanding, certain it is that if those school-
men, to their great thirst of truth, and unwearied
travel of wit, had joined variety and universality of
reading and contemplation, they had proved excel-
lent lights, to the great advancement of all learning
and knowledge ; but as they are, they are great
undertakers indeed, and fierce with dark keeping :
but as in the inquiry of the divine truth, their pride
inclined to leave the oracle of God's word, and to
vanish in the mixture of their own inventions ; so in
the inquisition of nature, they ever left the oracle of
God's works, and adored the deceiving and deformed
images, which the unequal mirror of their own
minds, or a few received authors or principles, did
represent unto them. And thus much for the second
disease of learning.

For the third vice or disease of learning, which
concerneth deceit or untruth, it is of all the rest the
foulest; as that which doth destroy the essential
form of knowledge ; which is nothing but a repre-
sentation of truth ; for the truth of being, and the
truth of knowing are one, differing no more than the
direct beam, and the beam reflected. This vice
therefore brancheth itself into two sorts ; delight in
deceiving, and aptness to be deceived 5 imposture and

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

credulity; which, although they appear to be of a
diverse nature, the one seeming to proceed of cun-
ning, and the other of simplicity ; yet certainly they
do for the most part concur : for as the verse noteth,

Percent atorem fugito, nam garrulus idem est:
an inquisitive man is a prattler : so upon the like
reason, a credulous man is a deceiver : as we see it
in fame, that he that will easily believe rumours,
will as easily augment rumours, and add somewhat
to them of his own ; which Tacitus wisely noteth,
when he saith, Fingunt simid creduntque : so great an
affinity hath fiction and belief.

This facility of credit, and accepting or admitting
things weakly authorized or warranted, is of two
kinds, according to the subject : for it is either a
belief of history, as the lawyers speak, matter of fact;
or else of matter of art and opinion : as to the
former, we see the experience and inconvenience
of this error in ecclesiastical history, which hath too
easily received and registered reports and narrations
of miracles wrought by martyrs, hermits, or monks
of the desart, and other holy men, and their relicks,
shrines, chapels, and images: which though they had
a passage for time, by the ignorance of the people,
the superstitious simplicity of some, and the politic
toleration of others, holding them but as divine
poesies : yet after a period of time, when the mist
began to clear up, they grew to be esteemed but
as old wives fables, impostures of the clergy, illu-
sions of spirits, and badges of antichrist, to the great
scandal and detriment of religion.

So in natural history, we see there hath not been
that choice and judgment used as ought to have
been, as may appear in the writings of Plinius, Car^
danus, Albertus, and divers of the Arabians, being
fraught with much fabulous matter, a great part not
only untried, but notoriously untrue, to the great
derogation of the credit of natural philosophy with
the grave and sober kind of wits : wherein the wis*
ciom and integrity of Aristotle is worthy to be ob^
served, that, having made so diligent and exquisite

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

a history of living creatures, hath mingled it sparingly
with any vain or feigned matter ; and yet, on the
other side, hath cast all prodigious narrations, which
he thought worthy the recording, into one book :
excellently discerning that matter of manifest truth,
such, whereupon observation and rule was to be
built, was not to be mingled or weakened with
matter of doubtful credit ; and yet again, that rari-
ties and reports that seem incredible, are not to be
suppressed or denied to the memory of men.

And as for the facility of credit which is yielded
to arts and opinions, it is likewise of two kinds,
either when too much belief is attributed to the arts
themselves, or to certain authors in any art. The
sciences themselves which have had better intelli-
gence and confederacy with the imagination of man,
than with his reason, are three in number : astrology,
natural magic, and alchemy; of which sciences,
nevertheless, the ends or pretences are noble. For
astrology pretendeth to discover that correspondence,
or concatenation, which is between the superior
globe and the inferior. Natural magic pretendeth
to call and reduce natural philosophy from variety of
speculations to the magnitude of works ; and alche-
my pretendeth to make separation of all the unlike
parts of bodies, which in mixtures of nature are in-
corporate. But the derivations and prosecutions to
these ends, both in the the theories and in the prac-
tices, are full of error and vanity ; which the great
professors themselves have sought to veil over and
conceal by enigmatical writings, and referring them-
selves to auricular traditions and such other devices,
to save the credit of impostors : and yet surely to
alchemy this right is due, that it may be compared to
the husbandman whereof ^Esop makes the fable ;
that, when he died, told his sons, that he had left
unto them gold buried under ground in his vineyard ;
and they digged over all the ground, and gold they
found none , but by reason of their stirring and dig-
ging the mould about the roots of their vines, they
Lad a great vintage the year following : so assuredly

*-j <ivi

34 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

the search and stir to make gold hath brought to light
a great number of good and fruitful inventions and
experiments, as well for the disclosing of nature, as
for the use of man's life.

And as to the overmuch credit that hath been
given unto authors in sciences, in making them dic-
tators, that their words should stand ; and not con-
suls to give advice ; the damage is infinite that sci-
ences have received thereby, as the principal cause
that hath kept, them low, at a stay, without growth
or advancement. For hence it hath come, that in
arts mechanical, the first deviser comes shortest, and
time addeth and perfecteth : but in sciences, the first
author goeth farthest, and time loseth and corrupteth.
So we see, artillery, sailing, printing, and the like,
were grossly managed at the first, and by time ac-
commodated and refined : but contrariwise the phi-
losophies and sciences of Aristotle, Plato, Demo-
critus, Hippocrates, Euclides, Archimedes, of most
vigour at the first, are by time degenerate and im-
based ; whereof the reason is no other, but that in the
former many wits and industries have contributed in
one 'y and in the latter, many wits and industries
have been spent about the wit of some one, whom
* many times they have rather depraved than illus-

trated. For as water will not ascend higher than the
level of the first spring-head from whence it descend-
eth, so knowledge derived from Aristotle, and ex-
empted from liberty of examination, will not rise
again higher than the knowledge of Aristotle. And
therefore although the position be good, Oportet
discentem credere ; yet it must be coupled with this,
Oportet edoctum judicare : for disciples do owe unto
masters only a temporary belief, and a suspension of
their own judgment till they be fully instructed, and
not an absolute resignation, or perpetual captivity :
and therefore, to conclude this point, I will say no
more ; but so let great authors have their clue, as
time, which is the author of authors, be not de-
prived of his clue, which is, farther and farther to
discover truth. Thus I have gone over these three

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 35

diseases of learning ; besides the which, there are
some other rather peccant humours than formed dis-
eases, which nevertheless are not so secret and in-
trinsic, but that they fall under 'a popular observa-
tion and traducement, and therefore are not to be
passed over.

The first of these is the extreme affecting of two
extremities : the one antiquity, the other novelty ;
wherein it seemeth the children of time do take after
the nature and malice of the father. For as he de-
voureth his children, so one of them seeketh to de-
vour and suppress the other, while antiquity envieth
there should be new additions, and novelty cannot-
be content to add, but it must deface ; surely, the
advice of the prophet is the true direction in this
matter, State super vias antiquas, et videte qutcnam sit
via recta, et bona, et ambulate in ea. Antiquity de-
£erveth that reverence, that men should make a
stand thereupon, and discover what is the best way ;
but when the discovery is well taken, then to make
progression. And to speak truly, Antiquitas saculi,
juventus mundi. These times are the ancient times,
when the world is ancient, and not those which we
account ancient or dine retrograde, by a computation
backward from ourselves.

Another error, induced by the former, is a distrust
that any thing should be now to be found out, which
the world should have missed and passed over so
long time ; as if the same objection were to be made
to time, that Lucian maketh to Jupiter, and other
the heathen gods, of which he wondereth that they
begot so many children in old time, and begot none
in his time; and asketh whether they were become
septuagenery, or whether the law Papia, made against
old mens marriages, had restrained them. So it
seemeth men doubt, lest time is become past chil-
dren and generation ; wherein, contrariwise, we see
commonly the levity and inconstancy of mens judg-
ments, which till a matter be done, wonder that it
can be done j and, as soon as it is done, wonder
again that it was no sooner done ; as we see in the

36 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

expedition of Alexander into Asia, which at first was
prejudged as a vast and impossible enterprise : and
yet afterwards it pleaseth Livy to make no more of it
than this ; Nil aliud, quam bene ausm est vana con-
temnere : and the same happened to Columbus in the
western navigation. Bat in intellectual matters it is
much more common; as may be seen in most of the
propositions of Euclid, which till they be demon-
strated, they seem strange to our assent ; but being
demonstrated, our mind accepteth of them by a kind
of relation, as the lawyers speak, as if we had known
them before.

Another error that hath also some affinity with the
former, is a conceit, that of former opinions or sects,
after variety and examination, the best hath still pre-
vailed, and suppressed the rest : so as, if a man
should begin the labour of a new search, he were but
like to light upon somewhat formerly rejected, and
by rejection brought into oblivion ; as if the multi-
tude, or the wisest, for the multitude's sake, were
not ready to give passage, rather to that which is
popular and superficial, than to that which is sub-
stantial and profound : for the truth is, that time
seemeth to be of the nature of a river or stream,
which carrieth down to us that which is light and
blown up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is
weighty and solid.

Another error, of a diverse nature from all the
former, is the over early and peremptory reduction
of knowledge into arts and methods ; from which
time commonly sciences receive small or no augmen-
tation. But as young men, when they knit and
shape perfectly, do seldom grow to a farther stature :
so knowledge, while it is in aphorisms and obser-
vations, it is in growth ; but when it once is com-
prehended in exact methods, it may perchance be
farther polished and illustrated, and accommodated
for use and practice ; but it increaseth no more in
bulk and substance.

Another error which doth succeed that which we
last-mentioned, is, that after the distribution of par-

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 37

ticular arts and sciences, men have abandoned uni-
versality, or philosophia prima ; which cannot but
cease, and stop all progression For no perfect dis-
covery can be made upon a flat or a level : neither
is it possible to discover the more remote, and deeper
parts of any science, if you stand but upon the level
of the same science, and ascend not to a higher
science;

Another error hath proceeded from too great a
reverence, and a kind of adoration of the mind and
understanding of man : by means whereof, men have
withdrawn themselves too much from the contem-
plation of nature^ and the observations of experience,
and have tumbled up and down in their own reason
and conceits. Upon these intellectualists, which are,
notwithstanding, commonly taken for the most sub-
lime and divine philophers, Heraclitus gave a just
censure, saying, " Men sought truth in their own
fc little worlds, and not in the great and common
<e world;" for they disdain to spell, and so by de-
grees to read in the volume of God's works ; and
contrariwise, by continual meditation and agitation
of wit, do urge and as it were invocate their own
spirits to divine, and give oracles unto them, whereby
they are deservedly deluded.

Another error that hath some connexion with this
latter, is that men have used to infect their medita-
tions, opinions, and doctrines, with some conceits
which they have most admired, or some sciences
which they have most applied ; and given all things
else a tincture according to them, utterly untrue and
improper. So hath Plato intermingled his philosophy
with theology, and Aristotle with logic ; and the
second school of Plato, Proclus, and the rest, with
the mathematics; For these were the arts which had
a kind of primogeniture with them severally. So
have the alchemists made a philosophy out of a few
experiments of the furnace $ and Gilbertus, our
countryman, hath made a philosophy out of the
observations of a loadstone. So Cicero, when, re*
citing the several opinions of the nature of the soul,

VOL. i. D

38 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

he found a musician, that held the soul was but a
harmony, saith pleasantly, Hie ab arte sua non recessit,
etc. But of these conceits Aristotle speaketh seri-
ously and wisely, when he saith, Qiti respiciunt ad
pauca, defacili pronuntiant.

Another error is an impatience of doubt, and
haste to assertion without due and mature suspension
of judgment. For the two ways of contemplation are
not unlike the two ways of action, commonly spoken
of by the ancients : the one plain and smooth in the
beginning, and in the end impassable ; the other
rough and troublesome in the entrance, but after a
while fair and even : so it is in contemplation -, if a man
will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts ;
but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he
shall end in certainties.

Another error is in the manner of the tradition and
delivery of knowledge, which is for the most part
magisterial and peremptory ; and not ingenuous and
faithful, in a sort, as may be soonest believed ; and
not easiliest examined. It is true, that in compendious
treatises for practice, that form is not to be disal-
lowed. But in the true handling of knowledge, men
ought not to fall either, on the one side, into the vein
of Velleius the Epicurean : Nil tarn metuens, quam ne
dubitare aliqua dc re videretur : nor, on the other
side, into Socrates his ironical doubting of all things ;
but to propound things sincerely, with more or less
asseveration, as they stand in a man's own judgment
proved more or less.

Other errors there are in the scope that men pro-
pound to themselves, whercunto they bend their en-
deavours : for whereas the more constant and devote
kind of professors of any science ought to propound
to themselves to make some additions to their science,
they convert their labours to aspire to certain second
prizes ; as to be a profound interpreter, or commen-
tator ; to be a sharp champion or defender ; to be a
methodical compounder or abridger ; and so the pa-
trimony of knowledge eometh to be sometimes im-
proved, but seldom augmented.

Book 1.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 39

But the greatest error of all the rest, is the mistak-
ing or misplacing of the last or farthest end of
knowledge : for men have entered into a desire of
learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural
curiosity, and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to en-
tertain their minds with variety and delight ; some-
times for ornament and reputation ; and sometimes to
enable them to victory of wit and contradiction ; and
most times for lucre and profession ; and seldom sin-
cerely to give a true account of their gift of reason,
to the benefit and use of men : as if there were sought
in knowledge a couch, whereupon to rest a search-
ing and restless spirit ; or a terras, for a wandering
and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair
prospect ; or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise
itself upon ; or a fort or commanding ground for strife
and contention; or a shop, for profit, or sale; and
not a rich storehouse, for the glory of the Creator,
and the relief of man's estate. But this is that which
will indeed dignify and exalt knowledge, if contem-
plation and action may be more nearly and straitly
conjoined and united together than they have been ;
a conjunction like unto that of the two highest
planets, Saturn, the planet of rest and contempla-
tion, and Jupiter, the planet of civil society and
action ; howbeit, I do not mean, when I speak of
use and action, that end before-mentioned of the
applying of knowledge to lucre and profession ; for
I am not ignorant how much that diverteth and inter-
rupted! the prosecution and advancement of know-
ledge, like unto the golden ball thrown before Ata-
lanta, which while she goeth aside and stoopeth to
take up, the race is hindered ;

Dedinant cursus, anrumque volubile tolllt.

Neither is my meaning, as was spoken of Socrates,
to call philosophy down from heaven to converse
upon the earth ; that is, to leave natural philosophy
aside, and to apply knowledge only to manners and
policy. But as both heaven and earth do conspire
and contribute to the use and benefit of man; so the
end ought to be, from both philosophies to separate

D 2

40 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

and reject vain speculations, and whatsoever is empty
and void, and to preserve and augment whatsoever is
solid and fruitful : that knowledge may not be, as a
courtesan, for pleasure and vanity only, or as a bond-
woman, to acquire and gain to her master's use ; but
as a spouse, for generation, fruit, and comfort.

Thus have I described and opened, as by a kind of
dissection, those peccant humours, the principal of
them, which have not only given impediment to the
proficience of learning, but have given also occasion
to the traducement thereof: wherein if I have been
too plain, it must be remembered, Fidelia vulnera
amantiSy sed dolosa osmta malignantis.

This, I think, I have gained, that I ought to be
the better believed in that which I shall say pertain-
ing to commendation ; because I have proceeded so
freely in that which concerneth censure. And yet I
have no purpose to enter into a laudative of learning,
or to make a hymn to the muses, though I am of
opinion that it is long since their rites were duly ce-
lebrated : but my intent is, without varnish or ampli-
fication, justly to weigh the dignity of knowledge in
the balance with other things, and to take the true
value thereof by testimonies and arguments divine
and human.

FIRST therefore, let us seek the dignity of know-
ledge in the archetype or first platform, which is in
the attributes and acts of God, as far as they are
revealed to man, and may be observed with sobriety;
wherein we may not seek it by the name of learn-
ing; for all learning is knowledge acquired, and all
knowledge in God is original: and therefore we must
look for it by another name, that of wisdom or sa-
pience, as the Scriptures call it.

It is so then, that in the work of the creation we
see a double emanation of virtue from God ; the one
referring more properly to power, the other to wis*
dom ; the one expressed in making the subsistence
of the matter, and the other in disposing the beauty
of the.fprm. This being supposed, it is to be observed,

.Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

that, for any thing which appeareth in the history of
the creation, the confused mass and matter of heaven
and earth was made in a moment; and the order and
disposition of that chaos, or mass, was the work of six
days; such a note of difference it pleased God to put
upon the works of power, and the works of wisdom :
wherewith concurreth, that in the former it is not
set down that God said, Let there be heaven and
earth, as it is set down of the works following ; but
actually, that God made heaven and earth : the one
carrying the stile of a manufacture, and the other of
a law, decree, or council.

To proceed to that which is next in order, from
God to spirits. We find, as far as credit is to be
given to the celestial hierarchy of that supposed
Dionysius the senator of Athens, the first place or
degree is given to the angels of love, which are
termed Seraphim, the second to the angels of
light, which are termed Cherubim ; and the third,
and so following places, to thrones, principalities,
and the rest, which are all angels of power and mi-
nistry; so as the angels of knowledge and illumina-
tion are placed before the angels of office and do-
mination.

To descend from spirits and intellectual forms to
sensible and material forms ; we read the first form
that was created was light, which hath a relation and
correspondence in nature and corporal things to
knowledge in spirits and incorporal things.

So in the distribution of days, we see, the day
wherein God did rest, and contemplate his own
works, was blessed above all the days wherein he
did effect and accomplish them.

After the creation was finished, it is set down unto
us, that man was placed in the garden to work
therein; which work, so appointed to him, could be
no other than work of contemplation ; that is, when
the end of work is but for exercise and experiment,
not for necessity ; for there being then no reluctation
of the creature, nor sweat of the brow, man's en>

42 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

ployment must of consequence have been matter of
delight in the experiment, and not matter of labour
for the use. Again, the first acts which man per-
formed in paradise, consisted of the two summary
parts of knowledge ; the view of creatures, and the
imposition of names. As for the knowledge which
induced the fall, it was, as was touched before, not
the natural knowledge of creatures, but the moral
knowledge of good and evil ; wherein the supposition
was, that God's commandments or prohibitions were
not the originals of good and evil, but that they had
other beginnings, which man aspired to know, to the
end to make a total defection from God, and to,
depend wholly upon himself.

To pass on : in the first event or occurrence after
the fall of man, we see, as the Scriptures have infi-
nite mysteries, not violating at all the truth of the
story or letter, an image of the two estates, the con*
templative state, and the active state, figured in the
two persons of Abel and Cain, and in the two sim-*
plest and most primitive trades of life, that of the
shepherd, who, by reason of his leisure, rest in a
place, and living in view of heaven, is a lively
image of a contemplative life ; and that of the hus-
bandman : where we see again, the favour and elec-
tion of God went to the shepherd, and not to the tiller
of the ground.

So in the age before the flood, the holy records
within those few memorials, which are there entered
and registered, have vouchsafed to mention, and ho-,
nour the name of the inventors and authors of music,
and works in metaj. In the age after the flood, the
first great judgment of God upon the ambition of
man was the confusion of tongues; whereby the
open trade and intercourse of learning and knowledge
was chiefly imbarred.

To descend to Moses the lawgiver, and God's first
pen : he is adorned by the Scriptures with this ad-
dition and commendation, that he was seen in all the
learning of the ^Egyptians ; which nation, we know,

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning* 43

was one of the most ancient schools of the world :
for so Plato brings in the /Egyptian priest saying
unto Solon : " You Grecians are ever children ; you
" have no knowledge of antiquity, nor antiquity of
" knowledge." Take a view of the ceremonial law
of Moses ; you shall find, besides the prefiguration
of Christ, the badge or difference of the people of
God, the exercise and impression of obedience, and
other divine uses and fruits thereof, that some of the
most learned Rabbins have travelled profitably, and
profoundly to observe, some of them a natural, some
of them a moral sense, or reduction of many of the
ceremonies and ordinances. As in the law of the
leprosy, where it is said, If the whiteness have over-
spread the flesh, the patient may pass abroad for dean ;
but if there be any whole flesh remaining, he is to be
shut up for unclean: one of them noteth a principle
of nature, that putrefaction is more contagious be-
fore maturity, than after : and another noteth a po-
sition of moral philosophy, that men, abandoned to
vice, do not so much corrupt manners, as those that
are half-good and half-evil. So in this, and very
many other places in that law, there is to be found,
besides the theological sense, much aspersion of
philosophy.

So likewise in that excellent book of Job, if if be
revolved with diligence, it will be found pregnant,
and swelling with natural philosophy -, as for exam-
ple, cosmography, and the roundness of the world :
£ui extendit aquilonem super vacuum, et appendit
terram super nihilum. ; wherein the pensileness of the
earth, the pole of the north, and the finiteness or
convexity of heaven are manifestly touched. So
again, matter of astronomy ; Spiritus ejus ornavit
ctvlos, et .-obstetricante maim ejus eductus est Coluber
tortuosits. And in another place ; Nunquid conjungere
valebis micantes stellas Pleiadas, ant gyrum Arcturi
poteris dissipare ? Where the fixing of the stars, .ever
standing at equal distance, is with great elegancy
noted. And in another place, Quifacit Arcturum,
it Oriona, et Huadas, et interior a Austri ; where

44 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

again he takes knowledge of the depression of the
southern pole, calling it the secrets of the south, because
the southern stars were in that climate unseen. Matter
of generation, Annon sicut lac mulsistime, etsicut cascum
coagulasti me, etc. Matter of minerals, Habet argen-
turn venarum suarum pr'mcipia: et auro locus est in
quo conflatur, ferrum de terra tollitur, et lapis solutus
calore in as vertitur : and so forwards in that
chapter.

So likewise in the person of Solomon the king, we
see the gift or endowment of wisdom and learning,
both in Solomon's petition, and in God's assent there-
unto, preferred before all other terrene and temporal
felicity. By virtue of which grant or donative of
God, Solomon became enabled, not only to write
those excellent parables, or aphorisms, concerning
divine and moral philosophy 3 but also to compile a
natural history of all verdure, from the cedar upon
the mountain to the moss upon the wall, which is
but a rudiment between putrefaction and an herb,
and also of all things that breathe or move, Nay,
the same Solomon the king, although he excelled in
the glory of treasure and magnificent buildings, of
shipping and navigation, of service and attendance,
of fame and renown, and the like, yet he maketh no
claim to any of those glories, but only to the glory
of inquisition of truth \ for so he saith expressly, The
glory of God is to conceal a thing, but the glory of the
king is to find it out; as if, according to the innocent
play of children, the Divine Majesty took delight to
hide his works, to the end to have them found out ;
and as if kings could not obtain a greater honour
than to be God's playfellows in that game, consider-
ing the great commandment of wits and means,
whereby nothing needeth to be hidden from them.

Neither did the dispensation of God vary in the
times' after our Saviour came into the world ; for our
Saviour himself did first shew his power to subdue
ignorance,' by hi? conference with the priests and
doctors of the law, before he shewed his power to
subdue nature by his miracles. And the coming of

Book I,] Of the Advancement of Learning. 45

the Holy Spirit was chiefly figured and expressed in
the similitude and gift of tongues, which are but
vehicula sciential. f

So in the election of those instruments, which it
pleased God to use for the plantation of the faith,
notwithstanding that at the first he did employ per-
sons altogeter unlearned, otherwise than by inspira-
tion, more evidently to declare his immediate work-
ing, and to abase all human wisdom or knowledge ;
yet, nevertheless, that counsel of his was no sooner
performed, but in the next vicissitude and succession,
he did send his divine truth into the world, waited
on with other learnings, as with servants or hand-
maids : for so we see St. Paul, who was only learned
amongst the apostles, had his pen most used in the
Scriptures of the New Testament.

So again, we find that many of the ancient bishops
and fathers of the church were excellently read, and
studied in all the learning of the heathen ; insomuch,
that the edict of the emperor Julianus, whereby it
was interdicted unto Christians to be admitted into
schools, Jectures, or exercises of learning, was
esteemed and accounted a more pernicious engine
and machination against the Christian faith, than
were all the sanguinary prosecutions of his prede-
cessors $ neither could the emulation and jealousy of
Gregory the First of that name, bishop of Rome,
ever obtain the opinion of piety or devotion ; but
contrariwise received the censure of humour, ma-
lignity, and pusillanimity, even amongst holy men ;
in that he designed to obliterate and extinguish the
memory of heathen antiquity and authors. But con-
trariwise it was the Christian church, which, amidst
the inundations of the Scythians on the one side from
the north-west, and the Saracens from the east, did
preserve, in the sacred lap and bosom thereof, the
precious relicks even of heathen learning, which
otherwise had been extinguished, as if no such thing
had ever been.

And we see before our eyes, that in the age of
ourselves and oar fathers, when it pleased God to

40 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

call the church of Rome to account for their degene-
rate manners and ceremonies, and sundry doctrines
obnoxious, and framed to uphold the same abuses ;
at one and the same time it was ordained by the
divine providence, that there should attend withal a
renovation, and new spring of all other knowledges :
and, on the other side, we see the Jesuits, who
partly in themselves, and partly by the emulation and
provocation of their example, have much quickened
and strengthened the state of learning : we see, I say,
what notable service and reparation they have done
to the Roman see.

Wherefore, to conclude this part, let it be observed,
that there be two principal duties and services, be-
sides ornament and illustration, which philosophy
and human learning do perform to faith and religion.
The one, because they are an effectual inducement to
the exaltation of the glory of God. For as the
Psalms and other Scriptures do often invite us to
consider, and magnify the great and wonderful works
of God ; so if we should rest only in the contempla-
tion of the exterior of them, as they first offer them-
selves to our senses, we should do a like injury unto
the majesty of God, as if we should judge or con-
strue of the store of some excellent jeweller, by that
only which is set out toward the street in his shop.
The other, because they minister a singular help and
preservative against unbelief and error : for our Sa-
viour sath, You err, not knowing the Scriptures* nor
die power of God i laying before us two books or
volumes to study, if we will be secured from error ;
first, the Scriptures, revealing the will of God ; and
then the creatures expressing his power: whereof
the latter is a key unto the former: not only opening
our understanding to conceive the true sense of the
Scriptures, by the general notions of reason and rules
of speech; but chiefly opening our belief, in drawing
us into a due meditation of the omnipotency of God,
which is chiefly signed and engraven upon his works.
Thus much therefore for divine testimony and evi-
dence, concerning the true dignity and value of
learning.

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 47

As for human proofs, it is so large a field, as, in
a discourse of this nature and brevity, it is fit rather
to use choice of those things which we shall produce,
than to embrace the variety of them. First, there-
fore, in the degrees of human honor amongst the
heathen, it was the highest, to obtain to a veneration
and adoration as a God. This unto the Christians is
as the forbidden fruit. But we speak now separately
of human testimony ; according to which, that which
the Grecians call apotheosis, and the Latins, relatio
inter divos, was the supreme honor which man could
attribute unto man; especially when it was given,
not by a formal decree or act of state, as it was used
among the Roman emperors, but by an inward assent
and belief. Which honour being so high, had also a
degree of middle term : for there were reckoned
above human honors, honors heroical and divine : in
the attribution and distribution of which honors, we
see, antiquity made this difference: that whereas
founders and uniters of states and cities, lawgivers,
extirpers of tyrants, fathers of the people, and other
eminent persons in civil merit, were honored but
with the titles of worthies or demi-gods ; such as
were Hercules, Theseus, Minos, Romulus, and the
like : on the other side, such as were inventors and
authors of new arts, endowments, and commodities
towards man's life, were ever consecrated amongst
the gods themselves : as were Ceres, Bacchus, Mer-
curius, Apollo, and others ; and justly: for the merit
of the former is confined within the circle of an age
or a nation ; and is like fruitful showers, which
though they be profitable and good, yet serve but
for that season, and for a latitude of ground where
they fall; but the other is indeed like the benefits of
heaven, which are permanent and universal. The
former, again, is mixed with strife and perturbation ;
but the latter hath the true character of divine pre-
sence, coming in aura lent, without noise or agi-
tation.

Neither is certainly that other merit of learning, in
repressing the inconveniencics which grow from man

48 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

to man, much inferior to the former, of relieving
the necessities which arise from nature; which merit
was lively set forth by the ancients in that feigned
relation of Orpheus's theatre, where all beasts and
birds assembled, and, forgetting their several appe-
tites, some of prey, some of game, some of quarrel,
stood all sociably together listening to the airs and
accords of the harp ; the sound whereof no sooner
ceased, or was drowned by some louder noise, but
every beast returned to his own nature : wherein is
aptly described the nature and condition of men,
who are full of savage and unreclaimed desires of
profit, of lust, of revenge ; which as long as they
give ear to precepts, to laws, to religion, sweetly
touched with eloquence and persuasion of books, of
sermons, of harangues, so long is society and peace
maintained ; but if these instruments be silent, or that
sedition and tumult make them not audible, all things
dissolve into anarchy and confusion.

But this appeareth more manifestly, when kings
themselves, or persons of authority under them, or
other governors in commonwealths and popular
estates, are endued with learning. For although he
might be thought partial to his own profession, that
said, " Then should people and estates be happy,
" when either kings were philosophers, or philoso-
" phers kings;" yet so much is verified by experi-
ence, that under learned princes and governors there
have been ever the best times : for howsoever kings
may have their imperfections in their passions and
customs; yet if they be illuminated by learning, they
have those notions of religion, policy, and morality,
which do preserve them ; and refrain them from all
ruinous and peremptory errors and excesses, whis-
pering evermore in their ears, when counsellors and
servants stand mute and silent. And senators, or
counsellors likewise, which be learned, do pro-
ceed upon more safe and substantial principles, than
counsellors which are only merr- of experience ; the
one sort keeping dangers afar off, where'as the other
.discover them not till they come near hand, and

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 49

then trust to the agility of their wit to ward off or
avoid them.

Which felicity of times under learned princes, to
keep still the law of brevity, by using the most emi-
nent and selected examples, doth best appear in the
age which passed from the death of Domitian the
emperor, until the reign of Commodus ; compre-
hending a succession of six princes, all learned, or
singular favourers and advancers of learning; which
age, for temporal respects, was the most happy and
flourishing that ever the Roman empire, which then
was a model of the world, enjoyed ; a matter revealed
and prefigured unto Domitian in a dream the night
before he was slain , for he thought there was grown
behind upon his shoulders a neck and a head of gold:
which came accordingly to pass in those golden
times which succeeded ; of which princes we will
make some commemoration : wherein although the
matter will be vulgar, and may be thought fitter for
a declamation, than agreeable to a treatise enfolded as
this is ; yet because it is pertinent to the point in
hand, ncque semper arcum tendit Apollo, and to name
them only were too naked and cursory, I will not
omit it altogether.

The first was Nerva, the excellent temper of whose
government is by a glance in Cornelius Tacitus
touched to the life: Postquam divus Nerva j*es olim in-
sociabiles miscuisset, wiper him et liber tatem. And in
token of his learning, the last act of his short reign,
left to memory, was a missive to his adopted son
Trajan, proceeding upon some inward discontent at
the ingratitude of the times, comprehended in a verse
of Homer's;

Tel is, Pha'bc, tuis lacrymas ulciscere nostras.

Trajan, who succeeded, was for his person not
learned: but if we will hearken to the speech of our
Saviour, that saith, He that reeeivetli a prophet in the
name of a prophet, shall have a prophet's reward^ he
deserveth to be placed amongst the most learned
princes; for there was not a greater admirer of learn-
ing, or benefactor of learning; a founder of famous

50 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

libraries, a perpetual advancer of learned men to
office, and a familiar converser with learned pro-
fessors and preceptors, who were noted to have then
most credit in court. On the other side, how much
Trajan's virtue and government was admired and
renowned, surely no testimony of grave and faithful
history doth more lively set forth, than that legend
tale of Gregorius Magnus, bishop of Rome, who
was noted for the extreme envy he bore towards all
heathen excellency; and yet he is reported, out of
the love and estimation of Trajan's moral virtues, to
have made unto God passionate and fervent prayers for
the delivery of his soul o'ut of hell; and to have ob-
tained it, with a caveat, that he should make no more
such petitions. In this prince's time also, the perse-
cutions against the Christians received intermission,
upon the certificate of Plinius Secundus, a man of ex-
cellent learning, and by Trajan advanced.

Adrian, his successor, was the most curious man
that lived, and the most universal inquirer; insomuch
as it was noted for an error in his mind, that he de-
sired to comprehend all things, and not to reserve
himself for the worthiest things; falling into the like
humour that was long before noted in Philip of Ma-
cedon, who, when he would needs over-rule and put
down an excellent musician, in an argument touch-
ing music, was well answered by him again, " God
" forbid, Sir, saith he, that your fortune should be so
" bad, as to know these things better than I." It
pleased God likewise to use the curiosity of this
emperor, as an inducement to the peace of his church
in those days. For having Christ in veneration, not
as a God or Saviour, but as a wonder or novelty ; and
having his picture in his gallery, matched it with
Apollonius, with whom, in his vain imagination,
he thought he had some conformity; yet it served
the turn to allay the bitter hatred of those times
against the Christian name, so as the church had
peace during his time. And for his government
civil, although he did not attain to that of Trajan's,
in the glory of arms, or perfection of justice; yet in

Book I.J Of the Advancement of Learning. 5 i

deserving of the weal of the subject he did exceed
him. For Trajan erected many famous monuments
and buildings, insomuch as Constantine the Great in
emulation was wont to call him Parietaria, wall-
flower, because his name was upon so many walls :
but his buildings and works were more of glory and
triumph than use and necessity. But Adrian spent
his whole reign, which was peaceable, in a peram-
bulation, or survey of the Roman empire ,- giving
order, and making assignation where he went, for
re-edifying of cities, towns, and forts decayed, and
for cutting of rivers and streams, and for making
bridges and passages, and for policying of cities and
commonalties with new ordinances and constitutions,
and granting new franchises and incorporations; so
that his whole time was a very restoration of all the
lapses and decays of former times.

Antoninus Pius, who succeeded him, was a prince
excellently learned; and had the patient and subtle
wit of a schoolman; insomuch as in common speech,
which leaves no virtue untaxed, he was called apnini
sector, a carver, or a divider of cumin seed, which is
one of the least seeds ; such a patience he had and
settled spirit, to enter into the least and most exact
differences of causes, a fruit no doubt of the exceed-
ing tranquillity and serenity of his mind ; which be-
ing no ways charged or incumbered, either with fears,
remorses, or scruples, but having been noted for a
man of the purest goodness, without all fiction or af-
fectation, that hath reigned or lived, made his mind
continually present and intirc. He likewise ap-
proached a degree nearer unto Christianity, and be-
came, as Agrippa said unto St. Paul, half a Chrislicni >
holding their religion and law in good opinion, and
not only ceasing persecution, but giving way to the
advancement of Christians,

There succeeded him the first divi fratres, the two
adoptive brethren, Lucius Commodus Verus, son to
to ^Elius Verus, who delighted much in the softer
kind of learning, and was wont to call the poet
Martial his Virgil : and Marcus Aurelius Antoninus,

52 Of the Advancement of Learning* [Book I.

whereof the latter, who obscured his colleague, and
survived him long, was named the philosopher ; who
as he excelled all the rest in learning, so he excelled
them likewise in perfection of all royal virtues; in-
somuch as Julianus the emperor, in his book, intitled
Ctcsares, being as a pasquil or satire to deride all his
predecessors, feigned, that they were all invited to a
banquet of the gods, and Silenus the Jester sat at the
nether end of the table, and bestowed a scoff on
every one as they came in ; but when Marcus Philoso^
phus came in, Silenus was gravelled, and out of coun-
tenance, not knowing where to carp at him, save at
the last he gave a glance at his patience towards his
wife. And the virtue of this prince, continued with
that of his predecessor, made the name of Antoninus
so sacred in the world, that though it were' extremely
dishonoured in Commodus, Caracalla, and Helioga-
balus, who all bore the name ; yet when Alexander
Severus refused the name, because he was a stranger
to the family, the Senate with one acclamation said^
Quo mo do Augustus, sic ct Antoninus'. In such renown
and veneration was the name of these two princes
in those days, that they would have had it as a per-
petual addition in all the emperors stiles. In this
emperor's time also, the church for the most part was
in peace ; so as in, this sequence of six princes, we do
see the blessed effects of learning in sovereignty,
painted forth in the greatest table of the world.

But for a tablet, or picture of smaller volume, not
presuming to speak of your majesty that livetb, in
my judgment the most excellent is that of queen
Elizabeth, your immediate predecessor in this part of
Britain ; a princess that, if Plutarch were now alive
to write lives by parallels, would trouble him, I think,
to find for her a parallel amongst women. This lady
was endued with learning in her sex singular, and
great even amongst masculine princes ; whether we
speak of learning, of language, or of science, modern
or ancient, divinity or humanity : and unto the very
last year of her life, she accustomed to appoint set
hours for reading 3 scarcely any young student in an

Book L] Of the Advancement of Learning. 53

university, more daily, or more duly. As for her go-
vernment, I assure myself, I shall not exceed, if I do
affirm, that this part of the island never had forty-
five years of better times ; and yet not through the
calmness of the season, but through the wisdom of
her regimen.

For if there be considered of the one side, the
truth of religion established -, the constant peace and
security j the good administration of justice ; the tem-
perate use of the prerogative, not slackened, nor
much strained ; the flourishing state of learning, sort-
able to so excellent a patroness ; the convenient estate
of wealth and means, both of crown and subject ;
the habit of obedience, and the moderation of dis-
contents : and there be considered, on the other side,
the differences of religion, the troubles of neighbour
countries, the ambition of Spain, and opposition of
Rome ; and then, that she was solitary, and of her-
self: these things, I say, considered, as I could not
have chosen an instance so recent and so proper, so,
I suppose, I could not have chosen one more re-
markable or eminent to the purpose now in hand,
which is concerning the conjunction of learning in
the prince, with felicity in the people.

Neither hath learning an influence and operation
only upon civil merit and moral virtue, and the
arts or temperature of peace and peaceable govern-
ment ; but likewise it hath no less power and efficacy
in enablement towards martial and military virtue
and prowess ; as may be notably represented in the
examples of Alexander the great, and Caesar the
dictator, mentioned before, but now in n't place to be
resumed; of whose virtues and acts in war there
needs no note or recital, having been the wonders of
time in that kind : but of their affections towards
learning, and perfections in learning, it is pertinent to
say somewhat.

Alexander was bred and taught under Aristotle
the great philosopher, w^rio dedicated divers of his
books of philosophy unto him : he was attended with
Callisthenes, and divers other learned persons, that

VOL, i. E

5* Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

followed him in camp, throughout his journeys and
conquests. What price and estimation he had learn-
ing in, doth notably appear in these three particulars :
first, in the envy he used to express that he bore to-
wards Achilles, in this, that he had so good a trumpet
of his praises as Homer's verses : secondly, in the
judgment or solution he gave touching that precious
cabinet of Darius, which was found amongst his
jewels, whereof question was made what thing was
worthy to be put into it, and he gave his opinion for
Homer's works : thirdly, in his letter to Aristotle,
after he had set forth his books of nature, wherein he
expostulateth with him for publishing the secrets or
mysteries of philosophy ; and gave him to understand
that himself esteemed it more to excel other men in
learning and knowledge, than in power and empire.
And what use he had of learning doth appear, or ra-
ther shine, in all his speeches and answers, being full
of science and use of science, and that in all variety.

And here again it may seem a thing scholastical,
and somewhat idle, to recite things that every man
knoweth 5 but yet, since the argument I handle
feadetfa me thereunto, I am glad that men shall per-
ceive I am as willing to flatter, if they will so call
it, an Alexander, or a Caesar, or an Antoninus, that are
dead many hundred years since, as any that now
liveth : for it is the displaying the glory of learning in
sovereignty that I propound to myself, and not an
humour of declaiming in any man's praises. Observe
then the speech he used of Diogenes, and see if it
tend not to the true state of one of the greatest ques-
tions of moral philosophy ; whether the enjoying of
outward things, or the contemning of them, be the
greatest happiness : for when he saw Diogenes so
perfectly contented with so little, he said to those
that mocked at his condition ; " Were I not Alex-
ander, I would wish to be Diogenes." But Seneca
inverteth it, and saith ; Plus erat, quod hie nollet
accipere, qiiam quod ille posset dare. " There were
" more things which Diogenes would have refused,
:' than those were, which Alexander could have given
" or enjoyed.1'

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning, 55

Observe again that speech which was usual with
him, " That he felt his mortality chiefly in two things,
" sleep and lust ;" and see if it were not a speech
extracted out of the depth of natural philosophy, and
]iker to have come out of the mouth of Aristotle, or
Democritus, than from Alexander.

See again that speech of humanity and poesy; when
upon the bleeding of his wounds, he called unto him
one of his flatterers, that was wont to ascribe to him
divine honor, and said, " Look, this is very blood ;
" this is not such liquor as Homer speaketh of, which
" ran from Venus's hand, when it was pierced by
" Dioraedes."

See likewise his readiness in reprehension of logic,
in the speech he used to Cassander, upon a com-
plaint that was made against his father Antipater:
for when Alexander happened to say, " Do you think
" these men would have come from so far to com-
" plain, except they had just cause of grief?" And
Cassander answered, " Yea, that was the matter, be-
" cause they thought they should not be disproved."
Said Alexander laughing: " See the subtilties of
" Aristotle, to take a matter both ways, pro et con-
tra" etc.

But note again how well he could use the same
art, which he reprehended, to serve his own humour,
when bearing a secret grudge to Callisthenes, because
he was against the new ceremony of his adoration,
feasting one night, where the same Callisthenes was
at the table, it was moved by some after supper, for
entertainment sake, that Callisthenes, who was an
eloquent man, might speak of some theme or pur-
pose, at his own choice : which Callisthenes did ;
choosing the praise of the Macedonian nation for his
discourse, and performing the same with so good
manner, as the hearers were much ravished : where-
upon Alexander, nothing pleased, said, " It was easy
" to be eloquent upon so good a subject. But," saith
he, " turn your stile, and let us hear what you can say
" against us :" which Callisthenes presently under-
took, and did with that sting and life, that Alexander

E2

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

interrupted him, and said, " The goodness of the cause
" made him eloquent before, and despite made him
" eloquent then again."

Consider farther, for tropes of rhetoric, that excel-
lent use of a metaphor or translation, wherewith he
taxed Antipater, who was an imperious and tyrannous
governor: for when one of Antipater's friends com-
mended him to Alexander for his' moderation, that he
did not degenerate, as his other lieutenants did, into
the Persian pride in use of purple, but kept the an-
cient habit of Macedon, of black : " True," saith
Alexander, " but Antipater is all purple within." Or
that other, when Parmenio came to him in the plain
of Arbela, and shewed him the innumerable multitude
of his enemies, especially as they appeared by the in-
finite number of lights, as it had been a new firma-
ment of stars, and thereupon advised him to assail
them by night : whereupon he answered, " That he
fs would not steal the victory."

For matter of policy weigh that significant dis-
tinction, so much in all ages embraced, that he made
between his two friends, Hepha;stion and Craterus,
when he said, " That the one loved Alexander, and
" the other loved the king :" describing the princi-
pal difference of princes best servants, that some
in affection love their person, and others in duty love
their crown.

Weigh also that excellent taxation of an error, or-
dinary with counsellors of princes, that they counsel
their masters according to the model of their own
mind and fortune, and not of their masters ; when,
upon Darius 's great offers, Parmenio had said, " Surely
" I would accept these offers, were I as Alexan-
cc der;" saith Alexander, "So would I, were I as
" Parmenio."

Lastly, weigh that quick and acute reply, which
he made when he gave so large gifts to his friends
and servants, and was asked what he did reserve for
himself, and he answered, " Hope :" weigh, I say,
whether he had not cast up his account right, because
hope must be the portion of all that resolve upon

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 57

great enterprises. For this was Caesar's portion when
he went first into Gaul, his estate being then utterly
overthrown with largesses. And this was likewise
the portion of that noble prince, howsoever trans-
ported with ambition, Henry duke of Guise, of whom
it was usually said, that he was the* greatest usurer in
France, because he had turned all his estate into
obligations. ,

To conclude therefore : as certain critics are used
to say hyperbolicaily, " That if all sciences were lost,
" they might be found in Virgil ;" so certainly this
may be said truly, there are the prints and footsteps of
all learning in those few speeches which are reported
of this prince : the admiration of whom, when I con-
sider him not as Alexander the great, but as Aristotle's
scholar, hath carried me too far.

As for Julius Caesar, the excellency of his learn-
ing needeth not to be argued from his education, or
his company, or his speeches; but in a farther degree
doth declare itself in his writings and works; whereof
some are extant and permanent, and some unfortu-
nately perished. For, first, we see, there is left unto
us that excellent history of his own wars, which
he intitled only a commentary, wherein all succeed-
ing times have admired the solid weight of matter,
and the real passages, and lively images of actions
and persons, expressed in the greatest propriety
of words and perspicuity of narration that ever was;
which that it was not the effect of a natural gift,
but of learning and precept, is well witnessed by
that work of his, intitled, De analogia, being a gram-
matical philosophy, wherein he did labour to make
this same vox ad placitum to become vox ad licitum,
and to reduce custom of speech to congruity of
speech; and took, as it were, the picture of words
from the life of reason.

So we receive from him, as a monument both of
his power and learning, the then reformed computa-
tion of the year ; well expressing, that he took it to
be as great a glory to himself to observe and know
the law of the heavens, as to give law to men upon
the earth.

58 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

So likewise in that book of his, Anti-Cato, it may
easily appear that he did aspire as well to victory of
wit as victory of war ; undertaking therein a conflict
against the greatest champion with the pen that then
lived, Cicero the orator.

So again in his book of Apophthegms, which he col-
lected, we see that he esteemed it more honor to
make himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise
and pithy words of others, than to have every word
of his own to be made an apophthegm, or an oracle;
as vain princes, by custom of flattery, pretend to do.
And yet if I should enumerate divers of his speeches,
as I did those of Alexander, they are truly such as
Solomon noteth, when he saith, Verba sapientum tan-
qnam acidei, et tanquam dam in alt urn dcfixi: whereof
I will only recite three, not so delectable for ele-
gancy, but admirable for vigour and efficacy.

As first, it is reason he be thought a master of
words, that could with one word appease a mutiny
in his army, which was thus: The Romans, when
their generals did speak to their army, did use the
word MiliteS) but when the magistrates spake to the
people, they did use the word Qiti rites. The sol-
diers were in tumult, and seditiously prayed to be
cashiered ; not that they so meant, but by expostulation
thereof to draw Csesar to other conditions ; wherein
he being resolute not to give way, after some silence,
he began his speech, Ego, Quirites : which did admit
them already cashiered ; wherewith they were so sur-
prised, crossed, and confused, as they would not
suffer him to go on in his speech, but relinquished
their demands, and made it their suit, to be again
called by the name of Milites.

The second speech was thus : Ceesar did extremely
affect the name of king; and some were set on, as he
passed by, in popular acclamation to salute him king ;
\vliereupon, rinding the cry weak and poor, he put it
off thus, in a kind of jest, as if they had mistaken
his surname ; Non rex sum, sed Cccsar ; a speech, that
if it be searched, the life and fulness of it can scarce
be expressed : for, first, it was a refusal of the name,

Book L] Of the Advancement of Learning. 59

but yet not serious: again, it did signify an infinite
confidence and magnanimity, as if he presumed Caesar
was the greater title, as by his worthiness it is come
to pass till this day : but chiefly, it was a speech of
great allurement toward his own purpose; as if the
state did strive with him but for a name, whereof
mean families were vested ; for Rex was a surname
with the Romans, as well as King is with us.

The last speech which I will mention, was used to
Metellus ; when Caesar, after war declared, did possess
himself of the city of Rome, at which time entering
into the inner treasury to take the money there ac-
cumulated, Metellus, being tribune, forbad him :
whereto Caesar said, " That if he did not desist, he
" would lay him dead in the place." And presently
taking himself up, he added, " Young man, it is
" harder for me to speak it, than to do it ;" Ado-
ksccns, durius cst miki hoc dicere, qucim facere. A
speech compounded of the greatest terror and greatest
clemency that could proceed out of the mouth of man.

But to return, and conclude with him : it is evi-
dent, himself knew well his own perfection in learn-
ing, and took it upon him ; as appeared when, upon
occasion that some spake what a strange resolution it
was in Lucius Sylla to resign his dictature ; he scoffing
at him, to his own advantage, answered, " That Sylla
" could not skill of letters, and therefore knew not
" how to dictate."

And here it were fit to leave this point, touching
the concurrence of military virtue and learning, for
what example would come with any grace, after those
two of Alexander and Caesar ? were it not in regard
of the rareness of circumstance, that I find in one
particular, as that which did so suddenly pass from
extreme scorn to extreme wonder -, and it is of Xeno-
phon the philosopher, who went from Socrates's
school into Asia, in the expedition of Cyrus the
younger., against king Artaxerxes. This Xenophon
at that time was very young, and never had seen the
wars before ; neither had any command in the army,
but only followed the war as a voluntary, for the love
and conversation of Proxenus his friend. He was

60 Of the Advancement of Learning, [Book I.

present when Falinus came in message from the great
king to the Grecians, after that Cyrus was slain in
the field, and they a handful of men left to themselves
in the midst of the king's territories, cut off from
their country by many navigable rivers, and many
hundred miles. The message imported, that they
should deliver up their arms, and submit themselves
to the king's mercy. To which message before
answer was made, divers of the army conferred fa^
miliarly with Falinus : and amongst the rest Xenophon
happened to say, " Why, Falinus, we have now but
*c these two things left, our arms and our virtue ?
" and if we yield up our arms, how shall we make
<c use of our virtue?'* Whereto Falinus, smiling on
him, said, " If I be not deceived, young gentleman,
^ you are an Athenian, and, I believe, you study
" philosophy, and it is pretty that you say ; but you
<c are much abused, if you think your virtue can
" withstand the king's power." Here was the scorn ;
the wonder followed ; which was, that this young
scholar, or philosopher, after all the captains were
murdered in parley by treason, conducted those ten
thousand foot, through the heart of all the king's
high countries, from Babylon to Graecia in safety, in
despite of all the king's forces, to the astonishment
of the world, and the encouragement of the Grecians
in time succeeding to make invasion upon the kings
of Persia ; as was after purposed by Jason the Thes-
salian, attempted by Agesilaus the Spartan, and at-
chieved by Alexander the Macedonian, all upon the
ground of the act of that young scholar.

To proceed now from imperial and military virtue
to moral and private virtue : first, it is an assured
truth, which is contained in the verses ;

Scilicet ingenuas didicissefideliter artes,
ttmollit mores, nee sinit esseferos.

It- take^h away the wildness and barbarism, and
fierceness of mens minds : but indeed the accent had
need be uppn.fideliter : fora little superficial learning
doth rather work a contrary effect. It taketh away
^11 levity, temerity, and insolency, by copious sug-
gestion of all doubts and difficulties, and acquainting

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 61

the mind to balance reasons on both sides, and to
turn back the first offers and conceits of the mind,
and to accept of nothing but examined and tried.
It taketh away vain admiration of any thing, which
is the root of all weakness : for all things are admired,
either because they are new, or because they are
great. For novelty, no man that wadeth in learning
or contemplation throughly, but will find that printed
in his heart Nil novi super terrain. Neither can any
man marvel at the play of puppets, that goeth be-
hind the curtain, and adviseth well of the motion.
And for magnitude, as Alexander the Great, after
that he was used to great armies, and the great
conquests of the spacious provinces in Asia, when he
received letters out of Greece, of some fights and
services there, which were commonly for a passage,
or a fort, or some walled town at the most, he said,
" It seemed to him, that he was advertised of the
fe battle of the frogs and the mice, that the old tales
fs went of." So certainly, if a man meditate upon the
universal frame of nature, the earth with men upon it,
the divineness of souls excepted, will not seem much
other than an ant-hill, where some ants carry corn,
and some carry their young, and some go empty, and
all to and fro a little heap of dust. It taketh away or
mitigateth fear of death, or adverse fortune ; which is
one of the greatest impediments of virtue and imper-
fections of manners. For if a man's mind be deeply
seasoned with the consideration of the mortality and
corruptible nature of things, he will easily concur
with Epictetus, who went forth one day, and saw a
woman weeping for her pitcher of earth that was
broken ; and went forth the next day, and saw a
woman weeping for her son that was dead ; and
thereupon said, Heri vidi fragilemfrangi, hodie vidi
mortakm mori. And therefore Virgil did excellently
and profoundly couple the knowledge of causes, and
the conquest of all fears together, as concomitantia :

Felix, qui poluit rerum cognoscere causas,
Quique metus om?ies, et inexorabile fatum
Suhjecit pcdibuS) strepitumqite Acherontis avari.

62 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

It were too long to go over the particular remedies
which learning doth minister to all the diseases of the
mind, sometimes purging the ill-humours, sometimes
opening the obstructions, sometimes helping diges-
tion, sometimes increasing appetite, sometimes heal-
ing the wounds and exulcerations thereof, and the
like ; and therefore I will conclude with that which
hath rationem totius, which is, that it disposeth the
constitution of the mind not to be fixed or settled in
the defects thereof, but still to be capable and sus-
ceptible of growth and reformation. For the un-
learned man knows not what it is to descend into
himself, or to call himself to account ; nor the plea-
sure of that suavissima vita, indies sentire se fieri me-
liorem* The good parts he hath, he will learn to
shew to the full, and use them dexterously, but not
much to increase them : the faults he hath, he will
learn how to hide and colour them, but not much to
amend them : like an ill mower, that mows on still,
and never whets his scythe. Whereas with the
learned man it fares . otherwise, that he doth ever
intermix the correction and amendment of his mind,
with the use and employment thereof. Nay, farther,
in general and in sum certain it is, that veritas and
bonitas differ but as the seal and the print : for truth
prints goodness; and they be the clouds of error,
which descend in the storms of passions and pertur-
bations.

From moral virtue let us pass on to matter of power
and commandment, and consider whether in right
reason there be any comparable with that, where-
with knowledge investeth and crowneth man's na-
ture. We see the dignity of the commandment is
according to the dignity of the commanded : to have
commandment over beasts, as herdmen have, is a
thing contemptible ; to have commandment over
children, as schoolmasters have, is a matter of small
honor ; to have commandment over galley slaves, is
a disparagement, rather than an honor. Neither is
the commandment of tyrants much better, over peo-
ple which have put off the generosity of their minds :

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 63

and therefore it was ever holden, that honors in
free monarchies and commonwealths had a sweetness
more than in tvrannies, because the commandment
extendeth more over the wills of men, and not only
over their deeds and services. And therefore, when
Virgil putteth himself forth to attribute to Augustus
Csesar the best of human honors, he doth it in these

words : . , ,

victorqite volentes

Per populos datjura, viamque qffectat Ohjmpo.

But yet the commandment of knowledge is higher
than the commandment over the will ; for it is a
commandment over the reason, belief and under-
standing of man, which is the highest part of the
mind, and giveth law to the will itself: for there is
no power on earth, which setteth up a throne, or
chair of state, in the spirits and souls of men, and in
their cogitations, imaginations, opinions, and beliefs,
but knowledge and learning. And therefore we see
the detestable and extreme pleasure that arch-heretics,
and false prophets, and impostors are transported
with, when they once find in themselves that they
have a superiority in the faith and conscience of men ;
so great, as, if they have once tasted of it, it is
seldom seen that any torture or persecution can
make them relinquish or abandon it. But as this is
what the author of the Revelation calleth the depth, or
profoundness, of Satan ; so, by argument of con-
traries, the just and lawful sovereignty over men's
understanding, by force of truth rightly interpreted,
is that which approacheth nearest to the similitude of
the divine rule.

As for fortune and advancement, the beneficence
of learning is not so confined to give fortune only to
states and commonwealths, as it doth not likewise
give fortune to particular persons. For it was well
noted long ago, that Homer hath given more men
their livings, than either Sylla, or Caesar, or Augus-
tus ever did, notwithstanding their great largesses
and donatives, and distributions of lands to so many
legions 3 and no doubt it is hard to say, whether arms

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

or learning have advanced greater numbers. And
in case of sovereignty we see, that if arms or descent
have carried away the kingdom, yet learning hath
carried the priesthood, which ever hath been in some
competition with empire.

Again, for the pleasure and delight of knowledge
and learning, it far surpasseth all other in nature :
for, shall the pleasures of the affections so exceed the
pleasures of the senses, as much as the obtaining of
desire or victory exceedeth a song or a dinner ; and
must not, of consequence, the pleasures of the in-
tellect, or understanding, exceed the pleasures of the
affections P We see in all other pleasures there is
satiety, and after they be used, their verdure de-
parteth-; which sheweth wrell they be but deceits of
pleasure, and not pleasures ; and that it was the no-
velty which pleased, and not the quality : and there-
fore we see that voluptuous men turn friers, and
ambitious princes turn melancholy. But of know-
ledge there is no satiety, but satisfaction and appe-
tite are perpetually interchangeable ; and therefore
appeareth to be good in itself simply, without fallacy
or accident. Neither is that pleasure of small effi-
cacy and contentment to the mind of man, which
the poet Lucretius describeth elegantly,

Suave man magno, turbantibus &quora ventis, etc.
" It is a view of delight, saith he, to stand or walk
" upon the shore side, and to see a ship tossed with
" tempest upon the sea ; or to be in a fortified tower,
44 and to see two battles join upon a plain ; but it is a
" pleasure incomparable, for the mind of man to be
<c settled, landed, and fortified in the certainty of
*' truth, and from thence to descry and behold the
" errors, perturbations, labours, and wanderings up
ic and down of other men."

Lastly, leaving the vulgar arguments, that by learn-
ing man excelleth man in that wherein man excelleth
beasts ; that by learning man ascendeth to the heavens
and their motions, where in body he cannot come,
and the like : let us conclude with the dignity and
excellency of knowledge and learning in that where-

Book I.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 65

unto man's nature doth most aspire, which is, im-
mortality or continuance : for to this tendeth gene-
ration, and raising of houses and families; to this tend
buildings, foundations, and monuments ; to this
tendeth the desire of memory, fame, and celebration,
and in effect the strength of all other human desires.
We see then how far the monuments of wit and
learning are more durable than the monuments of
power, or of the hands. For have not the verses of
Homer continued twenty-five hundred years, or more,
without the loss of a syllable or letter ; during which
time, infinite palaces, temples, castles, cities, have
been decayed and demolished ? It is not possible to
have the true pictures or statues of Cyrus, Alexander,
and Caesar ; no, nor of the kings or great personages
of much later years ; for the originals cannot last,
and the copies cannot but lose of the life and truth. *
But the images of mens wits and knowledges remain
in books, exempted from the wrong of time, and-
capable of perpetual renovation. Neither are they
fitly to be called images, because they generate still,
and cast their seeds in the minds of others, pro-
voking and causing infinite actions and opinions in
succeeding ages : so that, if the invention of the ship
was thought so noble, which carrieth riches and
commodities from place to place, and consociateth
the most remote regions in participation of their
fruits ; how much more are letters to be magnified,
which, as ships, pass through the vast seas of time,
and make ages so distant to participate of the wisdom,
illuminations, and inventions, the one of the other?
Nay farther, we see, some of the philosophers which
were least divine, and most immersed in the senses,
and denied generally the immortality of the soul \ yet
came to this point, that whatsoever motions the
spirit of man could act and perform without the
organs of the body, they thought, might remain
after death, which were only those of the understand-
ing, and not of the affections ; so immortal and in-
corruptible a thing did knowledge seem unto them
to be. But we, that know by divine revelation,

66 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I.

that not only the understanding, but the affections
purified ; not only the spirit, but the body changed,
shall be advanced to immortality, do disclaim these
rudiments of the senses. But it must be remembered
both in this last point, and so it may likewise be
needful in other places, that in probation of the dig^
nity of knowledge or learning, I did in the beginning
separate divine testimony from human, which me-
thod I have pursued, and so handled them both apart*
Nevertheless I do not pretend, and I know it will be
impossible for me, by any pleading of mine, to re-
verse the judgment, either of /Esop's cock, that pre-
ferred the barley-corn before the gem ; or of Midas,
that being chosen judge between Apollo, president
of the Muses, and Pan, god of the flocks, judged
for plenty; or of Paris, that judged for beauty and
love, against wisdom and power; or of Agrippina,
occidat matron, modo imperet, that preferred empire
with any condition never so detestable ; or of Ulysses,
qui vetulam pr&etulit immortalitatiy being a figure of
those which prefer custom and habit before all ex-
cellency; or of a number of the like popular judg-
ments. For these things must continue as they have
been : but so will that also continue whereupon
learning hath ever relied, and which faileth not :
iuslijicata est Sapicntia ajiliis suis.

THE

SECOND BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON

OF THE

PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT

OF

LEARNING, DIVINE AND HUMAN.

TO THE KING.

IT might seem to have more convenience, though it
come often otherwise to pass, excellent king, that
those, which are fruitful in their generations, and
have in themselves the foresight of immortality in
their descendants, should likewise be more careful of
the good estate of future times, unto which they
know they must transmit and commend over their
dearest pledges. Queen Elizabeth was a sojourner in
the world, in respect of her unmarried life, and was a
blessing to her own times; and yet so as the im-
pression of her good government, besides her happy
memory, is not without some effect which doth sur-
vive her. But to your majesty, whom God hath al-
ready blessed with so much royal issue, worthy to
continue and represent you for ever; and whose
youthful and fruitful bed doth yet promise many the
like renovations; it is proper and agreeable to be
conversant, not only in the transitory parts of good
government, but in those acts also which are in their
nature permanent and perpetual: among the which,
if affection do not transport me, there is not any more
worthy, than the farther endowment of the world
with sound and fruitful knowledge. For why should
a few received authors stand up like Hercules's

68 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

columns ; beyond which there should be no sailing
or discovering, since we have so bright and benign
a star as your majesty, to conduct and prosper us ?
To return therefore where we left, it remaineth to
consider of what kind those acts are, which have
been undertaken and performed by kings and others
for the increase and advancement of learning : where-
in I purpose to speak actively, without digressing or
dilating.

Let this ground therefore be laid, that all works
are overcome by amplitude of reward, by soundness
of direction, and by the conjunction of labours. The
first multiplieth endeavour, the second preventeth
error, and the third supplieth the frailty of man ; but
the principal of these is direction : for claudus in via
antevertit cnrsorem extra viam ; and Solomon excel-
lently setteth it down, If the iron be not sharp, it re-
qmreth more strength ; but wisdom is that which pre~
vaileth : signifying, that the invention or election of
the mean is more effectual than any inforcement or
accumulation of endeavours. This I am induced to
speak, for that, not derogating from the noble inten-
tion of any that have been deservers towards the state
of learning, I do observe, nevertheless, that their
works and acts are rather matters of magnificence and
memory, than of progression and proricience, and
tend rather to augment the mass of learning, in the
multitude of learned men, than to rectify or raise the
sciences themselves.

The works or acts of merit towards learning are
conversant about three objects : the places of learning,
the books of learning, and the persons of the learned.
For as water, whether it be the dew of heaven, or the
springs of the earth, doth scatter and lose itself in the
ground, except it be collected into some receptacle,
where it may by union comfort and sustain itself, and
for that cause the industry of man hath made and
framed spring-heads, conduits, cisterns, and pools,
\vhich men have accustomed likewise to beautify and
adorn with accomplishments of magnificence and
state, as well as of use and necessity j so this excel-

Book It.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 69

lent liquor of knowledge, whether it descend from
divine inspiration, or spring from human sense, would
soon perish and vanish to oblivion, if it were not pre*
ser.ved in books, traditions, conferences, and places
appointed ; as universities, colleges, and schools, for
the receipt and comforting of the same.

The works, which Concern the seats and places
of learning, are four; foundations and buildings, en-
dowrments with revenues, endowments with fran-
chises and privileges, institutions and ordinances for
government; all tending to quietness and privateness
of life, and discharge of cares and troubles ; much
like the stations which Virgil prescribeth for the
hiving of bees :

Principle sedes apibus statioque petC7ida>
2uo neque sit vends aditus> etc.
The works touching books are two ; first libraries,
which are as the shrines where all the relicks of the
ancient saints* full of true virtue, and that without
delusion or imposture, are preserved and reposed :
secondly, new editions of authors, with more correct
impressions^ more faithful translations, more profitable
glosses, more diligent annotations^ and the like.

The works pertaining to the persons of learned
men, besides the advancement and countenancing of
them in general, are two : the reward and designation
of readers in sciences already extant and invented ;
and the reward and designation of writers and in*
quirers concerning any parts of learning not suffici-
ently laboured and prosecuted.

These are summarily the works and acts, wherein
the merits of many excellent princes and other worthy
personages have been conversant. As for any par-
ticular commemorations, I call to mind what Cicero
said, when he gave general thanks ; Difficile noil
aliqueni) ingratum quenquam prxterire. Let us rather,
according to the Scriptures, look unto that part of
the race which is before us, than look back to that
which is already attained.

First therefore, amongst so many great foundations
of colleges in Europe* I find strange that they are
VOL. i, F

70 Of the Advancement of Learning* [Book II.

all dedicated to professions, and none left free to
arts and sciences at large. For if men judge that
learning should be referred to action, they judge
well ; but in this they fall into the error described in
the ancient fable, in which the other parts of the
body did suppose the stomach had been idle, because
it neither performed the office of motion, as the limbs
do,«nor of sense, as the head doth ; bat yet, notwith-
standing, it is the stomach that digesteth and dis-
tributeth to all the rest: so if any man think phi-
losophy and universality to be idle studies, he doth
not consider that all professions are from thence served
and supplied. And this I take to be a great cause,
that hath hindered the progression of learning, be-
cause these fundamental knowledges have been stu-
died but in passage. For if you will have a tree bear
more fruit than it hath used to do, it is not any thing
you can do to the boughs, but it is the stirring of
the earth, and putting new mould about the roots,
that must work it. Neither is it to be forgotten, that
this dedicating of foundations and donations to pro-
fessory learning, hath not only had a malign aspect
and influence upon the growth of sciences, but hath
also been prejudicial to states and governments. For
hence it proceedeth that princes find a solitude in re-
gard of able men to serve them in causes of state,
because there is no education collegiate which is free,
where such as were so disposed might give themselves
to histories, modern languages, books of policy and
civil discourse, and other the like enablements unto
service of state.

And because founders of colleges do plant, and
founders of lectures do water, it followeth well in
order, to speak of the defect which is in public lec-
tures ; namely, in the smallness and meanness of the
salary or reward which in most places is assigned unto
them ; whether they be lectures of arts, or of pro-
fessions. For it is necessary to the progression of
sciences, that readers be of the most able and suffici-
ent men, as those which are ordained for generating
and propagating of sciences, and not for transitory

Book If.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

use. This cannot be, except their condition and
endowment be such as may content the ablest man
to appropriate his whole labour, and continue his
whole age in that function and attendance, and
therefore must have a proportion -answerable to that
mediocrity or competency of advancement, which
may be expected from a profession, or the practice
of a profession. So as, if you will have sciences
flourish, you must observe David's military law^
which was, " That those which staid with the car-
<k' riage, should have equal part with those which
" were in the action ;" else will the carriages be ill
attended. So readers in sciences are indeed th6
guardians of the stores and provisions of sciences*
whence men in active courses are furnished, and
therefore ought to have equal entertainment with
them; otherwise if the fathers in sciences be of the
weakest sort, or be ill-maintained,

Et pair um invalidi referent jejunia nata.
Another defect I note, wherein I shall need some
alchemist to help me, who call upon men to sell
their books, and to build furnaces, quitting and for-
saking Minerva and the Muses as barren virgins,
and relying upon Vulcan. But certain it is^ that
unto the deep, fruitful* and operative study of many
sciences, especially natural philosophy and physic,
books be not only the instrumentals wherein also the
beneficence of men hath hot been altogether want-
ing: for, we see> spheres, globes, astrolabes, maps,
and the like* have been provided as appurtenances
to astronomy and cosmography, as well as books ;
we see likewise, that some places instituted for physic
have annexed the commodity of gardens for simples
of all sortSj and do likewise command the use of
dead bodies for anatomies. But these do respect
but a few things. In general, there will hardly be
any main proficience in the disclosing of nature,
except there be some allowances for expences about
experiments ; whether they be experiments apper-
taining to Vulcanus or Daedalus, furnace or engine,
or any other kind 5 and therefore as secretaries and

F 2

72 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

spies of princes and states bring in bills for intelli-
gence, so you must allow the spies and intelligencers
of nature to bring in their bills, or else you shall be
ill advertised.

And if Alexander made such a liberal assignation
to Aristotle of treasure for the allowance of hunters,
fowlers, fishers, and the like, that he might compile
an history of nature, much better do they deserve it
that travel in arts of nature.

Another defect which I note, is an intermission or
neglect, in those which are governors in univer-
sities, of consultation ; and in princes, or superior
persons, of visitation : to enter into account and
consideration, whether the readings, exercises, and
other customs appertaining unto learning, anciently
begun, and since continued, be well instituted or
no, and thereupon to ground an amendment or re-
formation in that which shall be found inconvenient.
For it is one of your majesty's own most wise and
princely maxims, " That in all usages and prece-
" dents, the times be considered wherein they first
" began, which if they were weak or ignorant, it
" derogateth from the authority of the usage, and
" leaveth it for suspect.7' And therefore in as much
as most of the usages and orders of the universities
were derived from more obscure times, it is the more
requisite they be re-examined. In this kind I will
give an instance or two, for example sake, of things
that are the most obvious and familiar : the one is a
matter, which though it be ancient and general, yet
I hold it to be an error, which is, that scholars in
universities come too soon and too unripe to logic
and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates than children
and novices ; for these two, rightly taken, are the
gravest of sciences, being the arts of arts, the one
for judgment, the other tor ornament. And they
be the rules and directions how to set forth and dis-
pose matter ; and therefore for minds empty and un-
fraught with matter, and which have not gathered
that which Cicero calleth syka and supellex, stufFand
variety, to begin with those arts, as if one should

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 73

learn to weigh, or to measure, or to paint the wind,
doth work but this effect, that the wisdom of those
arts, which is great and universal, is almost made
contemptible, and is degenerate into childish sophi-
stry and ridiculous affectation. And farther, the
untimely learning of them hath drawn on, by conse-
quence, the superficial and unprofitable teaching and
writing of them, as fittest indeed to the capacity of
children. Another, is a lack I find in the exercises
used in the universities, which do make too great a
divorce between invention and memory ; for their
speeches are either premeditate in vcrbis concept is f
where nothing is left to invention ; or merely extem-
poral, where little is left to memory ; whereas in life
and action there is least use of either of these, but
rather of intermixtures of premeditation and inven-
tion, notes and memory ; so as the exercise fitteth
not the practice, nor the image the life ; and it is
ever a true rule in exercises, that they be framed as
near as may be to the life of practice, for otherwise
they do pervert the motions and faculties of the mind,
and not prepare them. The truth whereof is not
obscure, when scholars come to the practices of pro-
fessions, or other actions of civil life, which when
they set into, this want is soon found by themselves,
and sooner by others. But this part, touching the
amendment of the institutions and orders of univer-
sities, I will conclude with the clause of Caesar's letter
to Appius and Balbus, Hoc qucmadmodmn Jieri ]x>ssit>
nonnulla mihi in mentem veniunt, et multa reperiri pos-
sunt : de 2 is rebus rogo vos, ut cogitationem suscipiatis.
Another defect, which I note, ascendeth a little
higher than the precedent ; for as the proficience of
learning consisteth much in the orders and institutions
of universities in the same states and kingdoms, so it
would be yet more advanced, if there were more
intelligence mutual between the universities of Eu-
rope than now there is. We see there be many
orders and foundations, which though they be di-
vided under several sovereignties and territories, yet
they take themselves to have a kind of contract,

74 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

fraternity, and correspondence one with another, in-
somuch as they have provincials and generals. And
surely as nature createth brotherhood in families, and
arts mechanical contract brotherhoods in common-
alties, and the anointment of God superinduceth a
brotherhood in kings and bishops: so in like manner
there cannot but be a fraternity in learning and
illumination, relating to that paternity, which is
attributed to God, who is called the father of illumi-
nations or lights.

The last defect which I will note is, that there
hath not been, or very rarely been, any public de-
signation of writers or inquirers concerning such parts
of knowledge, as may appear not to have been already
sufficiently laboured or undertaken : unto which point
it is an inducement to enter into a view and exami-
nation what parts of learning have been prosecuted,
and wrhat omitted ; for the opinion of plenty is
Amongst the causes of want, and the great quantity
of books maketh a shew rather of superfluity than
lack ; which surcharge, nevertheless, is not to be
remedied by making no more books, but by making
more good books, which, as the serpent of Moses,
might devour the serpents of the enchanters.

The removing of all the defects formerly enume-
rated, except the last, and of the active part also of
the last, which is the designation of writers, are
opera basilica ; towards which the endeavours of a
private man may be but as an image in a cross-way,
that may point at the way, but cannot go it. But
the inducing part of the latter, which is the survey
of learning, may be set forward by private travel :
wherefore I will now attempt to make a general
and faithful perambulation of learning, with an in-
quiry what parts thereof lie fresh and waste, and not
improved and converted by the industry of man ; to
the' end that such a plot, made and recorded to me-
mory, may both minister light to any public desig-
nation, and also serve to excite voluntary endeavours :
wherein nevertheless, my purpose is at this time to
note only omissions and deficiencies, and not to make

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 7 5

any redargution of errors, or incomplete prosecutions;
for it is one thing to set forth what ground lieth un-
manured, and another thing to correct ill husbandry
in that which is manured.

In the handling and undertaking of which work I
am not ignorant what it is that I do now move and
attempt, nor insensible of mine own weakness to
sustain my purpose ; but my hope is, that if my ex-
treme love to learning carry me too far, I may obtain
the excuse of affection; for that " it is not granted
<c to man to love and to be wise." But, I know
well, I can use no other liberty of judgment than I
must leave to others ; and I, for my part, shall be
indifferently glad either to perform myself, or accept
from another, that duty of humanity ; Nam qid erranti
comiter monstrat viam, etc. J do foresee likewise,
that of those things which I shall enter and register,
as deficiencies and omissions, many will conceive and
censure, that some of them are already done and ex-
tant; others to be but curiosities, and things of no
great use ; and others to be of too great difficulty,
and almost impossibility to be compassed and effected :
but for the two first, I refer myself to the particulars;
for the last, touching impossibility, I take it, those
things are to be held possible which may be done by
some person, though not by every one ; and which
may be done by many, though not by any one ; and
which may be done in succession of ages, though
not within the hour-glass of one man's life ; and
which may be done by public designation, though
not by private endeavour.

But, notwithstanding, if any man will take to
himself rather that of Solomon, Dicit piger, Leo est
i)i via, than that of Virgil, Possunt quia posse viden-
tur : I shall be content that my labours be esteemed
but as the better sort of wishes ; for as it asketh some
knowledge to demand a question not impertinent, sa-
lt requireth some sense to make a wish not absurd.

76 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

THE parts of human learning have reference to
the three parts of man's Understanding, which is
the seat of learning : History to his Memory, Poesy
to his Imagination, and Philosophy to his Reason.
Divine learning receiveth the same distribution, for
the spirit of man is the same, though the revelation
of oracle and sense be diverse : so as theology con-
sisteth also of history of the church ; of parables,
which is divine poesy ; and of holy doctrine or pre«
cept : for as for that part which seemeth supernume^
rary, which is prophecy, it is but divine history;
which hath that prerogative over human, as the nar-
ration may be before the fact, as well as after.

HISTORY is Natural, Civil, Ecclesiastical, and Li~
terary ; whereof the three first I allow as extant, the
fourth I note as deficient. For no man hath pro-
pounded to himself the general state of learning to be
described and represented from age to age, as many
have done the works of nature, and the state civil
and ecclesiastical ; without which the history of the
world seemeth to me to be as the statue of Polyphemus
with his eye out, that part being wanting which doth
most shew the spirit and life of the person: And yet
I am not ignorant, that in divers particular sciences,
as of the jurisconsults, the mathematicians, the rhe~
toricians^ the philosophers, there are set down some
small memorials of the schools, authors and books ;
and so likewise some barren relations touching the
invention of arts or usages.

But a just story of learning, containing the anti-
quities and originals of knowledges and their sects,
their inventions, their traditions, their diverse admi-
nistrations and managings, their flourishings, their
oppositions, decays, depressions, oblivions, removes,
with the causes and occasions of them, and all other
events concerning learning, throughout the ages of
the world, I may truly affirm to be wanting.

The use and end of which work, I do not so much
design for curiosity, or satisfaction of those that are
the lovers of learning, but chiefly for a more serious

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 77

and grave purpose, which is this in few words, that
it will make learned men wise in the use and admini*
stration of learning. For it is not St. Augustine's nor
St. Ambrose's works that will make so wise a divine,
as ecclesiastical history thoroughly read and observed ;
and the same reason is of learning,

HISTORY of Nature is of three sorts; of nature in
course, of nature erring or varying, and of nature
altered or wrought ; that is, history of creatures, his^
tory of marvels, and history of arts.

The first of these, no doubt, is extant, and that in
good perfection ; the two latter are handled so weakly
and unprofitably, as I am moved to note them as de-
ficient,

For I find no sufficient or competent collection of Iiistorla

ir 1-11 T • ^ i naturae

the works or nature, which have a digression and de- errands,
flexion from the ordinary course of generations, pro-
ductions, and motions, whether they be singularities
of place and region, or the strange events of time
and chance, or the effects of yet unknown properties,
or the instances of exception to general kinds : it is
true, I find a number of books of fabulous experi-
ments and secrets, and frivolous impostures for plea-
sure and strangeness : but a substantial and severe
collection of the heteroclites, or irregulars of nature,
well examined and described, I find not, especially
not with due rejection of fables, and popular errors :
for as things now are, if an untruth in nature be once
on foot, what by reason of the neglect of examina-
tion and countenance of antiquity, and what by rea-
son of the use of the opinion in similitudes and orna-
ments of speech, it is never called down.

The use of this work, honoured with a precedent
in Aristotle, is nothing less than to give contentment
to the appetite of curious and vain wits, as the man-
ner of mirabilaries is to do : but for two reasons, both
of great weight : the one, to correct the partiality of
axioms and opinions, which are commonly framed
only upon common and familiar examples ; the
other, because from the wonders of nature is the

7 8 Of the Advancement of Learning. [ Book I f.

nearest intelligence and passage towards the wonders
of art : for it is no more, but by following, and as
it were hounding nature in her wanderings, to be
able to lead her afterwards to the same place again.

Neither am I of opinion, in this history of marvels,
that superstitious narrations of sorceries, witchcrafts,
dreams, divinations, and the like, where there is an
assurance and clear evidence of the fact, be altogether
excluded. For it is not yet known in what cases,
and how far effects attributed to superstition do par-
ticipate of natural causes : and therefore howsoever
the practice of such things is to be condemned, yet
from the speculation and consideration of them light
may be taken, not only for the discerning of the of-
fences, but for the farther disclosing of nature. Nei-
ther ought a man to make scruple of entering into
these things for inquisition of truth, as your majesty
hath shewed in your own example : who with the
two clear eyes of religion and natural philosophy
have looked deeply and wisely into these shadows,
and yet proved yourself to be of the nature of the sun,
which passeth through pollutions, and itself remains
as pure as before.

But this I hold fit, that these narrations, which have
mixture with superstition, be sorted by themselves,
and not to be mingled with the narrations, which are
merely and sincerely natural.

But as for the narrations touching the prodigies
and miracles of religions, they are either not true, or
not natural ; and therefore impertinent for the story
of nature.

Historia For history of nature wrought, or mechanical, I
oica/" find some collections made of agriculture, and like^
wise of manual arts, but commonly with a rejection
of experiments familiar and vulgar.

For it is esteemed a kind of dishonour unto learn-
ing, to descend to inquiry or meditation upon mat-
ters mechanical, except they be such as may be
thought secrets, rarities, and special subtilties ; which
humour of vain and supercilious arrogancy is justly
derided in Plato ; where he brings in Hippias, a

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 79

vaunting sophist, disputing with Socrates, a true and
unfeigned inquisitor of truth ; where the subject be-
ing touching beauty, Socrates, after his wandering
manner of inductions, put first an example of a fair
virgin, and then of a fair horse, and then of a fair
pot well glazed, whereat Hippias was offended ;
and said, " More than for courtesy's sake, he did
'c think much to dispute with any that did alledge
" such base and sordid instances:" whereunto So^
crates answered, " You have reason, and it becomes
" you well, being a man so trim in your vestments."
etc. And so goeth on in irony.

But the truth is, they be not the highest instances
that give the securest information; as maybe well
expressed in the tale so common of the philosopher,
that while he gazed upwards to the stars fell into the
water ; for if he had looked down he might have
seen the stars in the water, but looking aloft, he
could not see the water in the stars. So it cometh
often to pass, that mean and small things discover
great, better than great can discover the small ; and
therefore Aristotle noteth well, " that the nature of
" every thing is best seen in his smallest portions."
.And for that cause he inquireth the nature of a com-
monwealth, first in a family, and the simple conjuga-
tions of man and wife, parent and child, master and
servant, which are in every cottage. Even so like-
wise the nature of this great city of the world, and
the policy thereof, must be first sought in mean con-
cordances and small portions. So we see how that
secret of nature, of the turning of iron touched with
the loadstone towards the north, was found out in
needles of iron, not in bars of iron.

But if my judgment be of any weight, the use of
History Mechanical is of all others the most radical
and fundamental towards natural philosophy ; such
natural philosophy as shall not vanish in the fume of
subtile, sublime, or delectable speculation, but such
as shall be operative to the endowment and benefit of
man's life : for it will not only minister and suggest
for the present many ingenious practices in all trades.

80 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

by a connexion and transferring of the observations of
one art to the use of another, when the experiences
of several mysteries shall fall under the consideration
of one man's mind; but farther, it will give a more
true and real illumination concerning causes and
axioms than is hitherto attained.

For like as a man's disposition is never well
known till he be crossed, nor Proteus ever changed
shapes till he was straitened and held fast ; so the pas-
sages and variations of nature cannot appear so fully
in the liberty of nature, as in the trials and vexations
of art.

FOR Civil History, it is of three kinds, not unfitly
to be compared with the three kinds of pictures or
images : for of pictures or images, we see, some are
unfinished, some are perfect, and some are defaced.
So of histories we may find three kinds, Memorials,
Perfect Histories, and Antiquities; for memorials are
history unfinished, or the first or rough draughts of
history ; and antiquities are history defaced, or some
remnants of history which have casually escaped the
ship-wreck of time.

Memorials, or preparatory history, are of two sorts,
whereof the one may be termed Commentaries, and
the other Registers. Commentaries are they which
set down a continuance of the naked events and ac-
tions, without the motives or designs, the counsels,
the speeches, the pretexts, the occasions, and other
passages of action : for this is the true nature of a
Commentary, though Caesar, in modesty mixed with
greatness, did for his pleasure apply the name of a
Commentary to the best history of the world. Re-
gisters are collections of public acts, as decrees of
council, judicial proceedings, declarations and let-
ters of state, orations and the like, without a per-
fect'continuance or contexture of the thread of the
narration.

Antiquities, or remnants of history, are, as was
said, tanquam tabula naufragii, when industrious per-
sons, by an exact and scrupulous diligence and ob-

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 81

servation, out of monuments, names, words, proverbs,
traditions, private records and evidences, fragments
of stories, passages of books that concern not story,
and the like, do save and recover somewhat from the
deluge of time.

In these kinds of imperfect histories I do assign no
deficience, for they are tanquam impcrfectc mista, and
therefore any deficience in them is but their nature.

As for the corruptions and moths of history, which
are Epitomes, the use of them deserveth to be ba-
nished, as all men of sound judgment have confessed,
as those that have fretted and corroded the sound
bodies of many excellent histories, and wrought them
into base and unprofitable dregs.

History, which may be called Just and Perfect
History, is of three kinds, according to the object
which it propoundeth, or pretendeth to represent : for
it either representeth a time, or a person, or an action.
The first we call Chronicles, the second Lives, and the
third Narrations or Relations.

Of these, although the first be the most complete
and absolute kind of history, and hath most estima-
tion and glory, yet the second excelleth it in profit
and use, and the third in verity and sincerity. For
history of times representeth the magnitude of actions,
and the public faces and deportments of persons, and
passeth over in silence the smaller passages and mo-
tions of men and matters.

But such being the workmanship of God, as he
doth hang the greatest weight upon the smallest
wires, maxima % minirnis suspendens, it comes therefore
to pass, that such histories do rather set forth the
pomp of business than the true and inward resorts
thereof. But Lives, if they be well written, pro-
pounding to themselves a person to represent, in
whom actions both greater and smaller, public and
private, have a commixture, must of a necessity con-
tain a more true, native, and lively representation. So
again narrations and relations of actions, as the War
of Peloponnesus, the Expedition of Cyrus Miror, the-
Conspiracy of Catiline, cannot but be moxe purely and

82 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

exactly true, than histories of times, because they may
choose an argument comprehensible within the notice
and instructions of the writer : whereas he that under-
taketh the story of a time, especially of any length,
cannot but meet with many blanks and spaces, which
he mast be forced to fill up out of his own wit and
conjecture.

For the History of Times, I mean of civil history, the
providence of God hath made the distribution : for it
hath pleased God to ordain and illustrate two exemplar
states of the world of arms, learning, moral virtue, po-
licy, and laws. The state of Grsecia, and the state of
Rome ; the histories whereof occupying the middle
part of time, have more ancient to thenij histories
which may by one common name be termed the An-
tiquities of the world ; and after them, histories which
may be likewise called by the name of Modern
History.

Now to speak of the deficiencies. As to the heathen
antiquities of the world, it is in vain to note them for
deficient : deficient they are no doubt, consisting
mostly of fables and fragments, but the deficience
cannot be holpen ; for antiquity is like fame, caput
inter nubila condit, her head is muffled from our sight.
For the history of the exemplar states, it is extant in
good perfection. Not but I could wish there were
a perfect course of history for Graecia from Theseus to
F'hilopcemen, what time the affairs of Graecia were
drowned and extinguished in the affairs of Rome 5
and for Rome from Romulus to Justinianus, who may
be truly said to be ultimus Bomanorum. In which se-
quences of story the text of Thucydides and Xenophon
in the one, and the text of IJvius, Polybius, Salustius,
C;csar, Appianus, Tacitus, Herodianus, in the other,
to be kept hit ire without any diminution at all, and
only to be supplied and continued. But this is matter
of magnificence, rather to be commended than re-
quired : and we speak now of parts of learning sup-
plemental, and not of supererogation.

But for modern Histories, whereof there are some
few very .worthy, but the greater part beneath me-

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

cliocrity, leaving the care of foreign stories to foreign
states, because 1 will not be curiosus in aliena republica,
I cannot fail to represent to your majesty the un-
worthiness of the history of England in the main con-
tinuance thereof, and the partiality and obliquity of
that of Scotland, in the latest and largest author that
I have seen j supposing that it would be honour for
your majesty, and a work very memorable, if this
island of Great Britain, .as it is now joined in monarchy
for the ages to come, so were joined in one history
fcr the times passed, after the manner of the sacred
history, which draweth down the story of the ten
tribes, and of the two tribes, as twins, together. And
if it shall seem that the greatness of this work may
make it less exactly performed, there is an excellent
period of a smaller compass of time, as to the story
of England ; that is to say, from the uniting of the
roses to the uniting of the kingdoms: a portion of
time, wherein, to my understanding, there hath been,
the rarest varieties, that, in like number of successions
of any hereditary monarchy hath been known : for it
beginneth with the mixed adeption of a crown by
arms and title ; an entry by battle, an establishment
by marriage ; and therefore times answerable, like
waters after a tempest, full of working and swelling,
though without extremity of storm ; but well passed
through by the wisdom of the pilot, being one of the
most sufficient kings of all the number. Then fol-
loweth the reign of a king, whose actions, howsoever
conducted, had much intermixture with the affairs of
Europe, balancing and inclining them variably ; in
whose time also began that great alteration in the
state ecclesiastical, an action which seldom cometh
upon the stage. Then the reign of a minor : then an
offer of an usurpation, though it was but as febris
ephemera : then the reign of a queen matched with a
foreigner : then of a queen that lived solitary and un-
married, and yet her government so masculine, as it
had greater impression and operation upon the states
abroad than it any ways received from thence. And
now last, this most happy and glorious event, that this

df the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

island of Britain, divided from all the world, should
be united in itself: and that oracle of rest, given t6
jEneas, Antiquam exqitiriie matrem, should now be
performed and fulfilled upon the nations of England
and Scotland, being now reunited in the ancient mo-
ther name of Britain* as a full period of all instability
and peregrinations \ so that as it Cometh to pass in
massive bodies, that they have certain trepidations
and waverings before they fix and settle ; so it seemeth
that by the providence of God this monarchy, before
it was to settle in your majesty arid your generations,
in which, I hope, it is now established for ever, it had
these prelusive changes and varieties.

For Lives ; I do find strange that these times have
so little esteemed the virtues of the times, as that the
writing of lives should be no more frequent. For al*
though there be not many sovereign princes or abso-
lute commanders, and that states are most collected
into monarchies, yet there are many worthy person-
ages that deserve better than dispersed report or
barren eulogies. For herein the invention of one of
the late poets is proper, and doth well inrich the an-
cient fiction : for he feigneth, that at the end of the
thread or web of every .man's life there was a little
medal containing the person's name, and that Time
waited upon the shears; and as soon as the thread
was cut, caught the medals, and carried them to the
river of Lethe ; and about the bank there were many
birds flying up and down, that would get the medals
and carry them in their beak a little while, and then
let them fall into the river: only there were a few
swans, which if they got a name, would carry it to a
temple where it was consecrated.

And though many men, more mortal in their affec-
tions than in their bodies, do esteem desire of name
and memory but as a vanity and ventosity,
Animi nil ma^mc laudis egentes ;

which opinion cometh from the root, non priiis laudcs
cottfempriinus, quam laudanda facere desivimiis : yet
that will not alter Solomon's judgment, Alemoria justi
cum laudibus, at impiorum no men putrescct ; the one

Book II.] Of the. Advancement of Learning.

flourisheth, the other either consumeth to present
oblivion, or turneth to an ill odour.

And therefore in that stile or addition, which is
and hath been long well received and brought in
use ,f el ic is memorise, pice memorise , bonte memories, we
do acknowledge that which Cicero saith, borrowing
it from Demosthenes, that bona fama propria possessio
defuncturum ; which possession I cannot but note, that
in our times it lieth much waste, ancj that therein
there is a deficience.

For Narrations and Relations of particular actions,
there were also to be wished a greater diligence
therein ; for there is no great action hut hath some
good pen which attends it.

And because it is an ability not common to write
a good history, as may well appear by the small
number of them ; yet if particularity of actions me-
morable were but tolerably reported as they pass, the
compiling of a complete, history of times might be the
better expected, when a wrriter should arise that were
fit for it ; for the collection of such relations might J>e
as a nursery garden, whereby to plant a fair and
stately garden, when time should serve.

There is yet another partition of history which
Cornelius Tacitus maketh, which is not to be for-
gotten, especially with that application which he ac-
coupleth it withal, Annals and Journals : appropriating
to the former, matters of state ; and to the latter, acts
and accidents of a meaner rature. For giving but a
touch of certain magnificent buildings, he addeth,
Cum ex dignitate popidi Romani repertum sit, res il-
lustres annalibitSy talia diurnis urbis actis majidare. So
as there is a kind of contemplative heraldry, as well
as civil. And as nothing doth derogate from the
dignity of a state more than confusion of degrees: so it
.doth not a little embase the authority of an history,
to intermingle matters of triumph, or matters of cere-
mony, or matters of novelty, with matters of state.
But the use of a journal hath not only been in the
history of time, but likewise in the history of persons,
and chiefly of actions ; for princes in ancient time?

VOL. i. c

86 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

Jiad, upon point of honor and policy both, journals
kept of what passed day by day : for we see the
Chronicle which was read before Ahasuerus, when
he could not take rest, contained matter of affairs
indeed, but such as had passed in his own time, and
very lately before : but the journal of Alexander's
Jiouse expressed every small particularity, even con*
cerning his person and court ; and it is yet an use
well received in enterprises memorable, as expedi-
tions of war, navigations, and the like, to keep diaries
of that which passeth continually.

I cannot likewise be ignorant of a form of writing,
which some grave and wise men have used, contain-
ing a scattered history of those actions which they
have thought worthy of memory, with politic dis-
course and observation thereupon ; not incorporated
into the history, but separately, and as the more prin-
cipal in their intention ; which kind of ruminated
history I think more fit to place amongst books of
policy, whereof we shall hereafter speak, than amongst
books of history : for it is the true office of history to
represent the events themselves together with the
counsels, and to leave the observations and conclu-
sions thereupon to the liberty and faculty of every
man's judgment ; but mixtures are things irregular,
whereof no man can define.

So also is there another kind of history manifoldly
mixed, and that is History of Cosmography, being
compounded of natural history, in respect of the re-

fions themselves ; of history civil, in respect of the
abitations, regimens, and manners of the people ;
and the mathematics, in respect of the climates and
configurations towards the heavens: which part of
learning of all others, in this latter time, hath ob-
tained most proficience. For it may be truly affirmed
to. the honour of these times, and in a virtuous emu-
lation with antiquity, that this great building of the
world had never thorough lights made in it, till the
age of us and our fathers ; for although they ha4
knowledge of the antipodes,

Nosque ubi primus equis or tens qfflavit anhelis^
lltic sera rubcns accendit lumina Vesper :

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning, 87

yet that might be by demonstration, and not in fact;
and if by travel, it requireth the voyage but of half
the globe. But to circle the earth, as the heavenly
bodies do, was not done or enterprised til) these latter
times : and therefore these times may justly bear in
their word, not only plus ultra in precedence of the
ancient non ultra, and imitabile fiilmen, in precedence
of the ancient non imitabile fubnen,

Demens qui nimbos ct non imitabile fulmen, etc.
but likewise imitabile c&liun : in respect of the many
memorable voyages, after the manner of heaven,
about the globe of the earth,

And this proficience in navigation and discoveries
may plant also an expectation of the farther profi-
cience and augmentation of all sciences ; because, it
may seem, they are ordained by God to be coevals,
that is, to meet one age. For so the prophet Daniel,
speaking of the latter times, foretelleth; Plurimi per-
trans ibunt, ct multiplex erit scientia ; as if the open-
ness and thorough passage of the world, and the in-
crease of knowledge, were appointed to be in the
same ages, as we see it is already performed in
great part; the learning of these latter times not
much giving place to the former two periods or re-
turns of learning, the one of the Grecians, the other
of the Romans,

HISTORY ecclesiastical receiveth the same divisions
with history civil ; but farther, in the propriety
thereof, may be divided into the history of the church,
by a general name ; History of prophecy ; and His-
tory of providence.

The first describeth the times of the militant church,
whether it be fluctuant, as the ark of Noah; or
moveable, as the ark in the wilderness ; or at rest,
as the ark in the temple ; that is, the state of the
church in persecution, in remove, and in peace.
This part I ought in no sort to note as deficient, only
I would that the virtue and sincerity of it were acr
cording to the mass and quantity. But I am not
hand wijh censures, but with omissions.

C 2

88 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

The second, which is history of prophecy, con-

Frophe- • t r • i i \

tica. sisteth or two relatives, the prophecy, and the ac-
complishment ; and therefore the nature of such a
work ought to be, that every prophecy of the scrip-
ture be sorted with the event fulfilling the same,
throughout the ages of the world ; both for the bet-
ter confirmation of faith, and for the better illumina-
tion of the church touching those parts of prophecies
which are yet unfulfilled : allowing nevertheless that
latitude which is agreeable and familiar unto divine
prophecies, being of the nature of their author, with
whom a thousand years are but as one day, and there-
fore are not fulfilled punctually at once, but have
springing and germinant accomplishment throughout
many ages ; though the height or fulness of them may
refer to some one age.

This is a work which I find deficient, but is to be
done with wisdom, sobriety, and reverence, or not
at all.

The third, which is history of providence, con-
taineth that excellent correspondence which is be-
tween God's revealed will and his secret will : which
though it be so obscure, as for the most part it is
not legible to the natural man ; no, nor many times,
to those who behold it from the tabernacle ; yet at
some times it pleaseth God, for our better establish-
ment, and the confuting of those which are as with-
out God in the world, to write it in such text and
capital letters, that, as the prophet saith, he that
runneth by may read it ; that is, mere sensual persons,
which hasten by God's judgments and never bend
or fix their<cogitations upon them, are nevertheless in
their passage and race urged to discern it. Such are
the notable events and examples of God's judgments,
chastisements, deliverances, and blessings : and this
is a work which hath passed through the labours of
many, and therefore I cannot present as omitted.

There are also other parts of learning which are
Appendices to history : for all the exterior proceed-
ings of man consist of words and deeds ; whereof
history doth properly receive and retain in memory

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 89

the deeds ; and if words, yet but as inducements and
passages to deeds : so are there other books and
writings, which are appropriated to the custody and
receipt of words only, which likewise are of three
sorts ; Orations, Letters, and brief Speeches or Say-
ings.

Orations are pleadings, speeches of counsel, lau-
datives, invectives, apologies, reprehensions 5 ora-
tions of formality or ceremony, and the like.

Letters are according to all the variety of occa-
sions, advertisements, advices, directions, proposi-
tions, petitions, commendatory, expostulatory, satis-
factory; of compliment, of pleasure, of discourse,
and all other passages of action. And such as are
written from wise men, are of all the words of man,
in my judgment, the best; for they are more natural
than orations and public speeches, and more advised
than conferences or present speeches. So again let-
ters of affairs from such as manage them, or are
privy to them, are of all others the best instructions
for history, and to a diligent reader the best histories
in themselves.

For Apophthegms, it is a great Joss of that book
of Caesar's ; for as his history, and those few letters
of his which we have, and those apophthegms which
were of his own, excel all mens else, so I suppose
would his collection of apophthegms have done ; for
as for those which are collected by others, either I
have no taste in such matters, or else their choice
hath not been happy. But upon these three kinds of
writings I do not insist, because I have no deficiencies
to propound concerning them.

Thus much therefore concerning history, which is
that part of learning which answereth to one of the
ceils, domiciles, or offices of the mind of man, which
is that of the memory.

POESY is a part of learning in measure of words
for the most part restrained, but in all other points;
extremely licensed, and doth truly refer to the ima-
ination ; which, being not tied to the laws of mat-

90 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II,

tcr, may at pleasure join that which nature hath
severed, and sever that which nature hath joined, and
so make unlawful matches and divorces of things ;
Pictoribus atque poetis, etc. It is taken in two
senses, in respect of words, or matter ; in the first
sense it is but a character of stile, and belongeth to
arts of speech, and is not pertinent for the present :
in the latter, it is, as hath been said, one of the
principal portions of learning, and is nothing else but
feigned history, which may be stiled as well in
prose as in verse.

The use of this feigned history hath been to give
some shadow of satisfaction to the mind of man in
those points wherein the nature of things doth deny
it, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul,
by reason whereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of
man, a more ample greatness, a more exact good-
ness, and a more absolute variety, than can be found
in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts
or events of true history have not that magnitude
which satisfieth the mind of man, poesy feigneth acts
and events greater and more heroical : because true
history propoundeth the successes and issues of ac-
tions not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and
vice, therefore poesy feigns them more just in retri-
bution, and more according to revealed providence :
because true history represented! actions and events
more ordinary, and less interchanged ; therefore poesy
endueth them with more rareness, and more unex-
pected and alternative variations : so as it appeareth
that poesy serveth and conferreth to magnanimity,
morality, and to delectation. And therefore it was
ever though to have some participation of divineness,
because it doth raise and erect the mind, by submit-
ting the shews of things to the desires of the mind ;
whereas reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto
the nature of things.

And we see, that by these insinuations and con-
gruities with man's nature and pleasure, joined also
with the agreement and consort it hath with music,
it hath had access and estimation in rude times and

Book Hi] Of the Advancement of Learning. 91

barbarous regions, where other learning stood ex*
eluded.

The division of poesy, which is aptest in the pro*
priety thereof, besides those divisions which are com-
mon unto it with history; as feigned chronicles,
feigned lives, and the appendices of history3 as feigned
epistles, feigned orations, and the rest, is into Poesy
Narrative, Representative, and Allusive.

The Narrative is a mere imitation of history, with
the excesses before remembered, choosing for subject
commonly wars and love -y rarely state, and some-
times pleasure or mirth.

Representative is as a visible history, and is an
image of actions as if they were present, as history
is of actions in nature as they are, that is past*

Allusive or parabolical, is a narration applied only
to express some special purpose or conceit : which
latter kind of parabolical wisdom was much more in
use in the ancient times, as by the fables of ^Esop,
and the brief sentences of the Seven, and the use of
hieroglyphics, may appear. And the cause was* for
that it was then of necessity to express any point of
reason, which was more sharp or subtile than the
vulgar, in that manner, because men in those times
wanted both variety of examples and subtilty of con-
ceit : and as hieroglyphics were before letters, so
parables were before arguments* And nevertheless
now, and at all times, they do retain much life and
vigour, because reason cannot be so sensible, nor
examples so fit.

But there remaineth yet another use of poesy para-
bolical, opposite to that which we last mentioned :
for that tendeth to demonstrate and illustrate that
which is taught or delivered, and this other to retire
and obscure it : that is, when the secrets and myste^
ries of religion, policy, or philosophy, are involved
in fables and parables.

Of this in divine poesy, we see, the use is autho-
rised. Jn heathen poesy, we see, the exposition of
fables doth fall out sometimes with great felicity, as
in the fable that the giants being overthrown in their

92 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

war against the gods, the Earth their mother, in re*
venge thereof, brought forth Fame :

Illam terra parens ira irritata deorum,

Extremam, ut perhibent> Ccco Enccladoque sororem

Progenuit.

Expounded, that when Princes and monarchies have
suppressed actual and open rebels, then the malig-
nity of people, which is the mother of rebellion, doth
bring forth libels and slanders, and taxations of the
states, which is of the same kind with rebellion, but
more feminine. So in the fable, that the rest of the
gods having conspired to bind Jupiter, Pallas called
Briareus with his hundred hands to his aid : expound-
ed, that monarchies need not fear any curbing of
their absoluteness by mighty subjects, as long as by
wisdom they keep the hearts of the people, who will
be sure to come in on their side. So in the fable,
that Achilles was brought up under Chiron the Cen-
taur, who was part a man and part a beast ; ex-
pounded ingeniously, but corruptly by Machiavel,
that it belongeth to the education and discipline of
princes to know as well how to play the part of the
lion in violence, and the fox in guile, as of the man
in virtue and justice.

Nevertheless in many the like encounters, I do
rather think that the fable was first, and the expo-
sition devised, than that the moral was first, and
thereupon the fable framed. For I find it was an
ancient vanity in Chrysippus that troubled himself
with great contention to fasten the assertions of the
Stoics upon fictions of the ancient poets ; but yet that
all the fables and fictions of the poets were but plea-
sure and not figure, I interpose no opinion.

Surely of those poets which are now extant, even
Homer himself, notwithstanding he was made a kind
of Scripture by the latter schools of the Grecians, yet
I should without any difficulty pronounce, that his
fables had no such inwardness in his own meaning ;
but what they might have upon a more original tra-
dition, is not easy to affirm, for he was not the in-
ventor of manv of them.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 93

In this third part of learning, which is poesy, I
can report no deficience. For being as a plant that
cometh of the lust of the earth, without a formal seed,
it hath sprung up, and spread abroad more than any
other kind : but to ascribe unto It that1 which is due,
for the expression of affections, passions, corruptions,
and customs, we are beholden to poets more than to
the philosophers works; and for wit and eloquence,
not much less than to orators harangues. But it is
not good to stay too long in the theatre. Let us now
pass to the judicial place or palace of the mind, which
we are to approach and view with more reverence
and attention.

THE knowledge of man is as the waters, some
descending from above, and some springing from be-
iieath ; the one informed by the light of nature, the
other inspired by divine revelation.

The light of nature consisteth in the notions of the
mind, and the reports of the senses; for as for know-
ledge which man receiveth by teaching, it is cumu-
lative and not original, as in a water, that, besides
his own spring-head, is fed with other springs and
streams. So then, according to these two differing,
illuminations or originals, knowledge is first of all
divided into Divinity and Philosophy.

In Philosophy, the contemplations of man da
neither penetrate unto God, or are circumferred to
nature, or are reflected or reverted upon himself.
Out of which several inquiries there do arise three
knowledges, Divine philosophy, Natural philosophy,
and Human philosophy or humanity. For all things
are marked and stamped with this triple character, of
the power of God, the difference of nature, and the
use of man. But because the distributions and par-
titions of knowledge are not like several lines that
meet in one angle, and so touch but in a point ; but
are like branches of a tree, that meet in a stem,
which hath a dimension and quantity of intireness
and continuance, before it come to discontinue and
break itself into arms and boughs ; therefore it is

94. Of the Advancement of Learning > [Book II.

good, before we enter into the former distribution,
to erect and constitute one universal science, by the
name of Philosophia prima, primitive or summary
philosophy, as the main and common way, before
we come where the ways part and divide themselves ;
which science* whether I should report as deficient
or no, I stand doubtful.

For I find a certain rhapsody of natural theology,
and of divers parts of logic ; and of that other part of
natural philosophy, which concerneth the principles ;
and of that other part of natural philosophy which
concerneth the soul or spirit; all these strangely com-
mixed and confused ; but being examined, it seemeth
to me rather a depredation of other sciences, advanced
and exalted unto some height of terms, than any
thing solid or substantial of itself.

Nevertheless I cannot be ignorant of the distinc-
tion which is current, that the same things are han-
dled but in several respects. As for example, that logic
considereth of many things as they are in notion ;
and this philosophy, as they are in nature ; the one
in appearance, the other in existence : but I find this
difference better made than pursued. For if they had
considered quantity, similitude, diversity, and the
rest of those external characters of things, as philo-
sophers, and in nature ; their inquiries must of force
have been of a far other kind than they are.

For doth any of them, in handling quantity, speak
of the force of union, how, and how far it multiplieth
virtue ? Doth any give the reason, why some things
in nature are so common and in so great mass, and
others so rare, and in so small quantity ? Doth any,
in handling similitude and diversity, assign the cause
why iron should not move to iron, which is more
like, but move to the loadstone which is less like ?
Why, in all diversities of things, there should be
certain participles in nature, which are almost ambi-
guous, to which kind they should be referred ? But
there is a mere and deep silence touching the nature
and operation of those common adjuncts of things,
as in nature; and only a resuming and repeating of
the force and use of them in speech or argument.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 95

Therefore because in a writing of this nature I
avoid all subtilty, my meaning touching this original
or universal philosophy is thus, in a plain and gross
description by negative ; cc That it be a receptacle7 ,
" for all such profitable observations and axioms, as
€€ fall not within the compass of any of the speciai
" parts of philosophy or sciences, but are more
" common and of a higher stage."

Now that there are many of that kind, need not
to be doubted. For example ; is not the rule -67
in&qttalibus ccqualia addas, omnia erunt in&qualia, an
axiom as well of justice as of the mathematics ? And
is there not a true coincidence between commutative
and distributive justice, and arithmetical and geome-
trical proportion ? Is not that other rule, Qua? in
eodem tertio conveniunt, et inter se conveniunt, a rule
taken from the mathematics, but so potent in logic,
as all syllogisms are built upon it ? Is not the obser-
vation, Omnia mutantur, nil intent, a contemplation
in philosophy thus, that the quantum of nature is
eternal ? in natural theology thus ; that it requireth
the same omnipotence to make something nothing,
which at the first made nothing something ; accord-
ing to the scripture, Didici quod omnia opera, qiuc
fecit Deus, per sever ent inperpetuum ; non possumus eis
quicquam addere, nee auferre.

Is not the ground, which Machiavel wisely and
largely discourseth concerning governments, that the
way to establish and preserve them, is to reduce them
ad principia ; a rule in religion and nature, as well as
in civil administation ? Was not the Persian magic a
reduction or correspondence of the principles and
architectures of nature, to the rules and policy of
governments? Is not the precept of a musician, to
tall from a discord or harsh accord upon a concord
or sweet accord, alike true in affection ? Is not the
trope of music, to avoid or slide from the close or
cadence, common with the trope of rhetoric, of de-
ceiving expectation? Is not the delight ot the quaver-
ing upon a stop in music, the same with the playing
of light upon the water?

96 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

Splcndct tremulo sub lumine pontus*
Are not the organs of the senses of one kind with
the organs of reflection, the eye with a glass, the
ear with a cave or strait determined and bounded ?
Neither are these only similitudes, as men of narrow
observation may conceive them to be, but the same
footsteps of nature, treading or printing upon several
subjects or matters.

phi?**" k*s science therefore, as I understand it* I may

sive dc 'justly report as deficient; for I see sometimes the
•dcmi* profounder sort of wits, in handling some particular
rum. argument, will now and then draw a bucket of
water out of this well for their present use ; but the
spring-head thereof seemeth to me not to have been
visited ; being of so excellent use, both for the dis-
closing of nature, and the abridgement of art.

This science being therefore first placed as a com-
mon parent, like unto Berecynthia, which had so
much heavenly issue, Omnes avlicolas, omnes supera
alta tenentcs, we may return to the former distribu-
tion of the three philosophies, divine, natural, and
human.

And as concerning divine philosophy, or Natural
Theology, it is that knowledge or rudiment of
knowledge concerning God, which may be obtained
by the contemplation of his creatures ; which know-
ledge may be truly termed divine, in respect of the
object, and natural in respect of the light.

The bounds of this knowledge are, that it sufficeth
to convince atheism, but not to inform religion : and
therefore there was never miracle wrought by God to
convert an atheist, because the light of nature might
have led him to confess a God : but miracles have
been wrought to convert idolaters and the supersti-
tious, because no light of nature extendeth to de-
clare the will and true worship of God.

For as all works do shew forth the power and
skill of the workman, and not his image, so it is of
the works of God, which do shew the omnipotency
and wisdom of the maker, but not his image : and
therefore therein the heathen opinion differeth from

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 97

the sacred truth ; for they supposed the world to be
the image of God, and man to be an extract or com-
pendious image of the world ; but the Scriptures never
vouchsafe to attribute to the world that honor, as to
be the image of God, but only the work of his hands ;
neither do they speak of any other image of God,
but man : wherefore by the contemplation of nature,
to induce and inforce the acknowledgment of God,
and to demonstrate his power, providence and good-
ness, is an excellent argument, and hath been ex-
cellently handled by divers.

But on the other side, out of the contemplation
of nature or ground of human knowledges, to in-
duce any verity or persuasion concerning the points
of faith, is in my judgment not safe: Da Jidti, qiuc
Jidei sunt. For the heathens themselves conclude as
much in that excellent and divine fable of the golden
chain ; " That men and gods were not able to
" draw Jupiter down to the earth ; but contrariwise,
" Jupiter was able to draw them up to heaven."

So as we ought not to attempt to draw down or
submit the mysteries of God to our reason ; but con-
trariwise, to raise and advance our reason to the
divine truth. So as in this part of knowledge,
touching divine philosophy, I am so far from noting
any deficience, as I rather note an excess ; whereunto
I have digressed, because of the extreme prejudice
which both religion and philosophy have received,
and may receive, by being commixed together ; as
that which undoubtedly will make an heretical reli-
gion, and an imaginary and fabulous philosophy.

Otherwise it is of the nature of angels and spirits,
which is an appendix of theology, both divine and
natural, and is neither inscrutable nor interdicted -y
for although the Scripture saith, Let no man deceive
you in sublime discourse touching the worship of angels ,
pressing into that he knoweth not, &c. yet, notwith-
standing, if you observe well that precept, it may
appear thereby that there be two things only forbid-
den, adoration of them, and opinion fantastical of
them, either to extol them farther than appertained*

98 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book If.

to the degree of a creature, or to extol a man's know-
ledge of them farther than he hath ground. But
the sober and grounded inquiry, which may arise
out of the passages of holy Scriptures, or out of
the gradations of nature, is not restrained. So of
degenerate and revolted spirits, the conversing
with them, or the employment of them is pro-
hibited, much more any veneration towards them,.
But the contemplation or science of their nature,
their power, their illusions, either by Scripture or
reason, is a part of spiritual wisdom. For so the
apostle saith, We are not ignorant of his strata-
gems. And it is no more unlawful to inquire the
nature of evil spirits, than to inquire the force of
poisons in nature, or the nature of sin and vice in
morality. But this part, touching angels and spirits,
I cannot note as deficient, for many have occupied
themselves in it: I may rather challenge it, in many
of the writers thereof, as fabulous and fantastical.

LEAVING therefore divine philosophy or natural
theology, not divinity, or inspired theology, which
we reserve for the last of all, as the haven and sab-
bath of all man's contemplations, v.re will now pro-
ceed to Natural Philosophy.

If then it be true that Democritus said, " That the
" truth of nature lieth hid in certain deep mines and
cc caves:0 and if it be true likewise that the alche-
mists do so much inculcate, that Vulcan is a second
nature/ and imitateth that dexterously and com-
pendiously, which nature worketh by ambages and
length of time ; it were good to divide natural phi-
losophy into the mine and the furnace, and to make
two professions or occupations of natual philosophers,
some to be pioneers, and some smiths ; some to dig,
and some to refine and hammer : and surely I do best
allow of a division of that kind, though in more
familiar and scholastical terms : namely, that these
be the two parts of natural philosophy, the inquisition
of causes, and the production of effects ; speculative,
and operative 5 natual science, and natural prudence.

Book II .] Of the Advancement of Learning. 93

For as in civil matters there is a wisdom of dis-
course, and a wisdom of direction ; so is it in natu-
ral. And here I will make a request, that for the
latter, or at least for a part thereof, I may revive and
redintegrate the misapplied and abused name of
natural magic, which, in the true sense, is but
natural wisdom, or natural prudence; taken accord-
ing to the ancient acceptation, purged from vanity
and superstition,

Now although it be true, and I know it well, that
there is an intercourse between causes and effects, so
as both these knowledges, speculative and opera-
tive, have a great connection between themselves ;
yet because all true and fruitful natural philosophy
hath a double scale or ladder, ascendent and descen-
dent ; ascending from experiments, to the invention
of causes; and descending from causes, to the inven-
tion of new experiments; therefore I judge it most
requisite that these two parts be severally considered
and handled.

Natural science, or theory, is divided into Physic
and Metaphysic ; wherein I desire it may be con-
ceived, that I use the word metaphysic in a differing
sense from that that is received : and, in like manner,
I doubt not but it will easily appear to men of judg-
ment, that in this and other particulars, wheresoever
my conception and notion may differ from the ancient,
yet I am studious to keep the ancient terms,

For hoping well to deliver myself from mistaking,
by the order and perspicuous expressing of that I do
propound ; I am otherwise zealous and affectionate to
recede as little from antiquity, either in terms or
opinions, as may stand with truth, and the profi-
cience of knowledge.

And herein I cannot a little marvel at the philoso-
pher Aristotle, that did proceed in such a spirit of
difference and contradiction towards all antiquity,
undertaking not only to frame new words of science
at pleasure, but to confound and extinguish all ancient
wisdom : insomuch as he never nameth or mentioneth
ncient author or opinion, but to confute and

Of thc Advancement of Learning. [Book II,

reprove ; wherein for glory, and drawing followers
and disciples, he took the right course.

For certainly there cometh to pass, and hath place
in human truth, that which was noted and pronounced
in the highest truth ; Veni in nomine Patris> nee re-
cipitis me ; si quis venerit in nomine suo, eum recipietis.
But in this divine aphorism, considering to whom it
was applied, namely to Antichrist, the highest de-
ceiver, we may discern well, that the coming in a
man's own name, without regard of antiquity or pa-
ternity, is no good sign of truth, although it be
joined with the fortune and success of an Eum re-
dpietis.

But for this excellent person, Aristotle, I will think
of him, that he learned that humour of his scholar,
with whom, it seemeth, he did emulate, the one to
conquer all opinions, as the other to conquer all na-
tions : wherein nevertheless, it may be, he may at
some mens hands, that are of a bitter disposition, get
a like title as his scholar did.

Felix terrarum pr<edo> non utile mundo

Editus exempliim, etc.
So

Felix doctrine prtcdo.

But to me, on the other side, that do desire as much
as lieth in my pen to ground a sociable intercourse
between antiquity and proficience, it seemeth best to
keep way with antiquity usque ad aras ; and there-
fore to retain the ancient terms, though I sometimes
alter the uses and definitions ; according to the mode-
rate proceeding in civil government, where, although
there be some alteration, yet that holdeth which Ta-
citus wisely noteth, eadem magistratuum vocabula.

To return therefore to the use and acceptation of
the word metaphysic, as I do now understand the
word; it appeareth, by that which hath been already
said, that 1 intend philosophia prima, summary philo-
sophy, and metaphysic, which heretofore have been
confounded as one, to be two distinct things. For,
the one J have made as a parent, or common ances-
tor, to all knowledge ; and the other I have now

Book If.] Of the Advancement of Learning^ 101

brought in, as a branch, or descendant of natural
science. It appeareth likewise that I have assigned
to summary philosophy the common principles and
axioms which are promiscuous and indifferent to se-
veral sciences : I have assigned unto it likewise the
inquiry touching the operation of the relative and
adventitious characters of essences, as quantity, simi-
litude, diversity, possibility, and the rest ; with this
distinction and provision ; that they be handled as
they have efficacy in nature, and not logically. It
appeareth likewise, that natural theology, which
heretofore hath been handled confusedly with meta-
physic, I have inclosed and bounded by itself.

It is therefore now a question, what is left remain-
ing for metaphysic ; wherein I may without preju-
dice preserve thus much of the conceit of antiquity,
that physic should contemplate that which is in-
herent in matter, and therefore transitory ; and me-
taphysic, that which is abstracted and fixed.

And again, that physic should handle that whicrrsup-
poseth in nature only a being and moving ; and meta-
physic should handle that which supposeth farther in
nature, a reason, understanding, and platform. But
the difference perspicuously expressed, is most familiar
and sensible.

For as we divided natural philosophy in general
into the inquiry of causes, and productions of effects ;
so that part which concerneth the inquiry of causes,
we do subdivide according to the received and sound
division of causes ; the one part, which is physic,
inquireth and handleth the material and efficient
causes ; and the other, which is rnetaphysic, handleth
the formal and final causes.

Physic, taking it according to the derivation, and
not according to our idiom for medicine, is situate
in a middle term, or distance, between natural his-
tory and metaphysic. For natural history describeth
the variety of things, physic the causes, but variable
or respective causes ; and metaphysic, the fixed and
constant causes.

VOL. i. H

102 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

Limits ut hie durescit, et htcc ut ccra liquescit,
Uno eodemque igne.

Fire is the cause of induration but respective to clay :
fire is the cause of colliquation but respective to
wax. But fire is no constant cause either of indura-
tion or colliquation : so then the physical causes are
but the efficient and the matter.

Physic hath three parts, whereof two respect na-
ture united or collected, the third contemplateth na-
ture diffused or distributed.

Nature is collected either into one intire total, or else
into the same principles or seeds. So as the first doc-
trine is touching the contexture or configuration of
things, as de mundo, de universitate rerum.

The second is the doctrine concerning the princi-
ples or originals of things.

The third is the doctrine concerning all variety and
particularity of things ; whether it be of the differing
substances, or their differing qualities and natures ;
whereof there needeth no enumeration, this part be-
ing but as a gloss, or paraphrase, that attendeth upon
the text of natural history.

Of these three I cannot report any as deficient. In
what truth or perfection they are handled, I make not
now any judgment : but they are parts of knowledge
not deserted by the labour of man.

for Metaphysic, we have assigned unto it the in-
quiry of formal and final causes ; which assignation,
as to the former of them, may seem to be nugatory
and void, because of the received and inveterate
opinion, that the inquisition of man is not competent
to find out essential forms "or true differences: of
which opinion we will take this hold, that the inven-
tion of forms is of all other parts of knowledge the
worthiest to be sought, if it be possible to be found.

As for the possibility, they are ill discoverers that
think there is no land, when they can see nothing but
sea.

But it is manifest, that Plato, in his opinion of
ideas, as one that had a wit of elevation situate as
upon a cliff, did descry, " That forms were the true

)ok II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 103

object of knowledge;1' but lost the real fruit of his
opinion, by considering of forms as absolutely ab-
stracted from matter^ and not confined and deter-
mined by matter ; and so turning his opinion upon
theology, wherewith all his natural philosophy is
infected.

But if any man shall keep a continual watchful and
severe eye upon action, operation, and the use of
knowledge, he may advise and take notice what are
the forms, the disclosures whereof are fruitful and im-
portant to the state of man. For as to the forms of
substances, man only except, of whom it is said,
Formavit hominem de limo terra, et spiravit in faciem
cjus sfriraculum vitte, and not as of all other creatures,
Producant aquae ^ producat terra , the forms of sub-
stances : I say, as they are now by compounding and
transplanting multiplied, are so perplexed, as they
are not to be inquired ; no more than it were either
possible or to purpose, to seek in gross the forms of
those sounds which make words, which by compo-
sition and transposition of letters are infinite.

But, on the other side, to inquire the form of those
sounds or voices which make simple letters, is easily
comprehensible; and being known, induceth and
manifested! the forms of all words, which consist
and are compounded of them. In the same manner
to inquire the form of a lion, of an oak, of gold ;
nay, of water, of air, is a vain pursuit : but to in-
quire the forms of sense, of voluntary motion, of ve-
getation, of colours, of gravity and levity, of density,
of tenuity, of heat, of cold, and all other natures and
qualities, which, like an alphabet, are not many,
and of which the essences, upheld by matter, of all
creatures do consist : to inquire, I say, the true forms
of these, is that part of metaphysic which we now
define of.

Not but that physic doth make inquiry, and take
consideration of the same natures: but how? Only
as to the material and efficient causes of them, and
riot as to the forms. For example ; if the cause of
whiteness in snow or froth be inquired, and it be

H 2

104 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

rendered thus; that the subtile intermixture of air and
water is the cause, it is well rendered ; hut neverthe-
less, is this the form of whiteness ? No ; but it is the
efficient, which is ever but vehiculum forma .
Metaphy- This part of metaphysic I do not find laboured and

sica, sive r r~J

<ie formis performed, whereat I marvel not : because I hold it
rerumbus not Possible to be invented by that course of invention
which hath been used, in regard that men, which is
the root of all error, have made too untimely a depar-
ture, and too remote a recess from particulars.

But the use of this part of metaphysic which I re-
port as deficient, is of the rest the most excellent in
two respects : the one, because it is the duty and
virtue of all knowledge to abridge the infinity of in-
dividual experience, as much as the conception of
truth will permit, and to remedy the complaint of
vita brevis, ars longas which is performed by uniting
the notions and conceptions of sciences : for know-
ledges are* as pyramids, whereof history is the basis.
So of natural philosophy, the basis is natural history;
the stage next, the basis is physic ; the stage next the
vertical point is metaphysic. As for the vertical point,
Opus., quod operator Dcus ci principio usque ad Jinem,
the summary law of nature, we know not whether
man's inquiry can attain unto it. But these three be
the true stages of knowledge, and are to them that
are depraved no better than the giants hills.
Tcr sunt conati imponerc Pelio Qssam
Scilicet, atque Oss<c frondosum involvere Olympum.
But to those which refer all things to the glory of
God, they are as the three acclamations, Sancte,
sanctc, sancte ; holy in the description, or dilatation
of his works; holy in the connection or concatena-
tion of them ; and holy in the union of them in a per-
petual and uniform law.

And therefore the speculation was excellent hi
Parmenides and Plato, although but a speculation in
them, that all things by scale did ascend to unity.
So then always that knowledge is worthiest, which
is charged with least multiplicity ; which appeareth
to be metaphysic,. as that which considereth the
simple forms or differences of things, which are few

Boo

II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 105

in number, and the degrees and co-ordinations
Whereof make all this variety.

The second respect which valueth and commend-
eth this part of metaphysic, is, that it doth enfranchise
the power of man unto the greatest liberty and pos-
sibility of works and effects. For physic carrieth
men in narrow and restrained ways, subject to
many accidents of impediments, imitating the ordi-
nary flexuous courses of nature ; but latcc undiquc sunt
sapientibus vice : to sapience, which was anciently
defined to be rerufti divinaruni et humanamim scientia*
there is ever choice of means: for physical causes
give light to new invention in simili materia. But
whosoever knoweth any form, knoweth the utmost
possibility of super-inducing that nature upon any
variety of matter, and so is less restrained in operation
cither to the basis of the matter, or the condition of
the efficient : which kind of knowledge Solomon
likewise, though in a more divine sense, elegantly
describeth ; Non arctabuntcr gressus tni, et currens
?w?i habebis qffcndicuhun. They of sapience are not
much liable either to particularity or chance.

The second part of metaphysic is the inquiry of
final causes, which I am moved to report, not as
omitted, bat as misplaced ; and yet if it were but a
fault in order, I would not speak of it : for order is
matter of illustration, but pertaineth not to the sub-
stance of sciences. But this misplacing hath caused
a deficience, or at least a great improficience in the
sciences themselves. For the handling of final causes,
mixed with the rest in physical inquiries, hath inter-
cepted the severe and diligent inquiry of all real and
physical causes, and given men the occasion to stay
upon these satisfactory and specious causes, to the
great arrest and prejudice of farther discovery.

For this I find done not only by Plato, who ever
anchoreth upon that shore, but by Aristotle, Galen,
and others, which do usually likewise fall upon these:
flats of discoursing causes. Fqr to say that the hairs
of the eyelids arc for a quickset and fence about
the sight; or, that the firmness of the skins and

106 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

hides of living creatures is to defend them from the
extremities of heat or cold ; or that the bones are
for the columns or beams, whereupon the frame
of the bodies of living creatures is built ; or, that
the leaves of the trees are for protecting of the
fruit ; or, that the clouds are for watering of the
earth; or, that the solidness of the earth is for the
station and mansion of living creatures, and the like,
is well inquired and collected in metaphysic ; but in
physic they are impertinent. Nay, they are indeed but
remoras and hinderances to stay and slug the ship
from farther sailing, and have brought this to pass,
that the search of the physical causes hath been neg-
lected, and passed in silence.

And therefore the natural philosophy of Democritus,
and some others, who did not suppose a mind or
reason in the frame of things, but attributed the form
thereof, able to maintain itself, to infinite essays or
proofs of nature, which they term fortune ; seemeth
to me, as far as I can judge by the recital and frag-
ments which remain unto us, in particularities of
physical causes, more real and better inquired than
that of Aristotle and Plato ; whereof both inter-
mingled final causes, the one as a part of theology,
and the other as a part of logic, which were the
favourite studies respectively of both those persons.
Not because those final causes are not true, and wor-
thy to be inquired, being kept within their own
province ; but because their excursions into the limits
of physical causes hath bred a vastness and solitude
in that track, For, otherwise, keeping their pre-
cincts and borders, men are extremely deceived if
they think there is an enmity or repugnancy at all be-
tween them. For, the cause rendered, that the
hairs about the eye-lids are for the safe-guard of the
sight, doth not impugn the cause rendered, that pi-
losity is incident to orifices of moisture ; Muscosi
fontes, etc. Nor the cause rendered, that the firm-
ness of hides is for the armour of the body against
extremities of heat and cold, -doth not impugn the
cause rendered., that contraction of pores is incident

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 107

to the outwardest parts, in regard of their adjacence
to foreign or unlike bodies ; and so of the rest : both
causes being true and compatible, the one declaring
an intention, the other a consequence only.

Neither cloth this call in question, or derogate from
divine providence, but highly confirms and exalte
it. For as in civil actions he is the greater and
deeper politician, that can make other men the instru-
ments of his will and ends, and yet never acquaint
them with his purpose, so as they shall do it, and yet
not know what they do ; than he that imparteth his
meaning to those he employeth : so is the wisdom of
God more admirable, when nature intendeth one
thing, and providence draweth forth another ; than
if he had communicated to particular creatures, and
motions, the characters and impressions of his pro-
vidence. And thus much for metaphysic ; the latter
part whereof I allow as extant, but wish it confined
to its proper place.

Nevertheless there .remaineth yet another part of
.natural philosophy, which is commonly made a
principal part, and holdeth rank with physic special,
and metaphysic, which is mathematic ; but I think
it more agreeable to the nature of things, and to the
Jight of order, to place it as a branch of metaphysic :
for the subject of it being quantity, not quantity
indefinite, which is but a relative, and belongeth to
•philosphia prima, as hath been said, but quantity
determined, or proportionable ; it appeareth to be
one of the essential forms of things ; as that that is
causative in nature of a number of effects ; insomuch
as we see, in the schools both of Democritus and of
Pythagoras, that the one did ascribe Figure to the
firs.t seeds of things, and the other did suppose Num-
bers to be the principles and originals of things ; and
it is true also, that of all other forms, as we under-
stand forms, it is the most abstracted and separable
from matter, and therefore most proper to metaphysic ;
which hath likewise been the cause why it hath been
better laboured and inquired, than any of the other
forms, which are more immersed into matter.

108 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

For it being the nature of the mind of man, to the
extreme prejudice of knowledge, to delight in the
spacious liberty of generalities, as in a champain
region, and not in the inclosures of particularity ; the
mathematics of all other knowledge were the goodliest
fields to satisfy that appetite,

But for the placing of these sciences, it is not much
material ; only we have endeavoured, in these our
partitions, to observe a kind of perspective, that one
part may cast light upon another.'

The Mathematics are either pure or mixed. To
the pure mathematics are those sciences belonging
which handle quantity determinate,- merely severed
from any axioms of natural philosophy ; and these are
two, Geometry, and Arithmetic ; the one handling
quantity continued, and the other dissevered.

Mixed hath for subject some axioms or parts of
natural philosophy, and considereth quantity deter-
mined, as it is auxiliary and incident unto them.

For many parts of nature can neither be invented
with sufficient subtilty, nor demonstrated with suffi-
cient perspicuity, nor accommodated unto use with
sufficient dexterity, without the aid and intervening
of the mathematics : of which sort are perspective,
music, astronomy, cosmography, architecture, engi-
nery, and divers others.

In the mathematics I can report no deficience, ex-
cept it be that men do not sufficiently understand the
excellent use of the pure mathematics, in that they
do remedy and cure many defects in the wit and
faculties intellectual. For, if the wit be too dull,
they sharpen it ; if too wandering, they fix it ; if
too inherent in the sense, they abstract it. So that as
tennis is a game of no use in itself, but of great use in
respect it maketh a quick eye, and a body ready to
put itself into all postures ; so in the mathematics,
that use which is collateral and intervenient, is no less
worthy than that which is principal and intended.

And as for the mixed mathematics, I may only
make this prediction, that there cannot fail to be
more kinds of them> as nature grows further dis*
closed,

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. \109

Thus much of natural science, or the part of na-
ture speculative.

For Natural Prudence, or the part operative of
natural philosophy, we will divide it into three parts,
experimental, philosophical, and magical ; which
three parts active have a correspondence and analogy
with the three parts speculative, natural history,
physic, and metaphysic : for many operations have
been invented, sometimes by a casual incidence and
occurrence, sometimes by a purposed experiment;
and of those which have been found by an inten-
tional experiment, some have been found out by
varying, or extending the same experiment, some
by transferring and compounding divers experiments
the one into the other, which kind of invention an
empiric may manage.

Again, by the knowledge of physical causes, there
cannot fail to follow many indications and disigna-
tions of new particulars, if men in their speculation
will keep an eye upon use and practice. But these
are but coastings along the shore, premendo littus
iniquiun : for, it seemeth to me, there can hardly be
discovered any radical or fundamental alterations and
innovations in nature, either by the fortune and essays
of experiments, or by the light and direction of
physical causes.

If therefore we have reported metaphysic de-
ficient, it must follow, that we do the like of natural
magic, which hath relation thereunto. For as for the
natural magic whereof now there is mention in "
books, containing certain credulous and superstitious
conceits and observations of sympathies, and antipa-
thies, and hidden properties, and some frivolous ex-
periments, strange rather by disguise ment, than in
themselves : it is as far differing in truth of nature
from such a knowledge as we require, as the story
of king Arthur of Britain, or Hugh of Bourdeaux,
differs from Caesar's commentaries in truth of story.
For it is manifest that Caesar did greater things de
tero, than those imaginary heroes were feigned to do;
but he did them not iu that fabulous manner. Of

110 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book If.

this kind of learning the fable of Ixion was a figure,
who designed to enjoy Juno, the goddess of power ;
and instead of her had copulation with a cloud, of
which mixture were begotten centaurs and chimeras.
So whosoever shall entertain high and vaporous
imaginations, instead of a laborious and sober inquiry
of truth, shall beget hopes and beliefs of strange and
impossible shapes. And therefore we may note in
these sciences, which hold so much of imagination
and belief, as this degenerate natural magic, alchemy,,
astrology, and the like, that, in their propositions, trie
description of the means is ever more monstrous than
9 the pretence or end.

For it is a thing more probable, that he that
knoweth well the natures of weight, of colour, of
pliant and fragile in respect of the hammer, of vola-
tile and fixed in respect of the fire, and the rest, may
superinduce upon some metal the nature and form of
gold by such mechanic as belongeth to the production
of the natures afore rehearsed, than that some grains
of the medicine projected, should in a few mo-
ments of time turn a sea of quicksilver, or other
material, into gold: so it is more probable, that he,
that knoweth the nature of arefaction, the nature of
assimilation, of nourishment to the thing nourished,
the manner of increase and clearing of spirits, the man-
ner of the depredations which spirits make upon the
humours and solid parts ; shall, by ambages ot diets,
bathings, anointings, medicines, motions, and the like,
prolong life, or restore some degree of youth or vivi-
cacity, than that it can be done with the use of a
few drops, or scruples of a liquor or receipt. To con-
clude therefore, the true natural magic, which is that
great liberty and latitude of operation, which de-
pendeth upon the knowledge of forms, I may report
deficient, as the relative thereof is ; to which part, if
we be serious, and incline not to vanities and plau-
sible discourse, besides the deriving and deducing the
operations themselves from metaphysic, there are per-
tinent two points of much purpose, the one by way
of preparation, the other by way of caution : the first

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 1 1

is, that there be made a kalendar resembling an in- Jj,™"^
Ventory of the estate of man, containing all the in- humana.
ventions, being the works or fruits of nature or art, rum'
which are now extant, and whereof man is already
possessed, out of which doth naturally result a note,
what things are yet held impossible or not invented:
which kalender will be the more artificial and ser-
viceable, if to every reputed impossibility you add
what thing is extant, which cometh the nearest in
degree to that impossibility; to the end, that by
these optatives and potentials man's inquiry may be
the more awake in deducing direction of works
from the speculation of causes : and secondly, that
those experiments be not only esteemed which have
an immediate and present use, but those principally
which are of most universal consequence for inven-
tion of other experiments, and those which give most
light to the invention of causes ; for the invention of
the mariners needle, which giveth the direction, is
of no less benefit for navigation, than the invention
of the sails, which give the motion.

Thus have I passed through natural philosophy, and
the deficiencies thereof, wherein if I have differed from
the ancient and received doctries, and thereby shall
move contradiction; for my part, as I affect not to
dissent, so I purpose not to contend. If it be truth,

Non canimus surdis, respondent omnia sylvx :
The voice of nature will consent, whether the voice
of man do or no. And as Alexander Borgia was
wont to say of the expedition of the French for
Naples, that they came with chalk in their hands to
mark up their lodgings, and not with weapons to
fight: so I like better that entry of truth, which
cometh peaceably with chalk to mark up those minds
which are capable to lodge and harbour it, than that
which cometh with pugnacity and contention.

But there remaineth a division of natural philoso-
phy according to, the report of the inquiry, and no*
thing concerning the matter or subject; and that is
positive and considerative ; when the inquiry report-
efh either an assertion, or a doubt. These doubts,

Continua-
tio pro-
blematum
in natura.

Catalogus

falsitatum

grassan-

tium ia

historia

natuue.

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

or non liquets, are of two sorts, particular and total.
For the first, we see a good example thereof in Ari-
stotle's Problems, which deserved to have had a better
continuance ; but so nevertheless, as there is one
point whereof warning is to be given and taken.
The registring of doubts hath two excellent uses :
The one, that it saveth philosophy from errors and
falshoods, when that which is not fully appearing is
not collected into assertion, whereby error might
draw error, but reserved in doubt. The other, that
the entry of doubts are as so many suckers or spunges
to draw use of knowledge; insomuch, as that which,
if doubts had not preceded, a man should never
have advised, 'but 'passed it over without note, by
the suggestion and solicitation of doubts is made to
be attended and applied. But both these commodi-
ties do scarcely .countervail an inconvenience which
will intrude itself, if it be not debarred ; which is,
that, when a doubt is once received, men labor rather
how to keep it a doubt still, than how to solve it,
and accordingly bend their wits. Of this we see the
familiar example in lawyers and scholars, both which,
if they have once admitted a doubt, it goeth ever
after authorised for a doubt. But that use of wit and
knowledge is to be allowed, which laboreth to make
doubtful things certain, and not those which labor to
make certain things doubtful. Therefore these kalen-
-dars of doubts I commend as excellent things, so that
there be this caution used, that when they be tho-
roughly sifted and brought to resolution, they be from
thenceforth omitted, discarded, and not continued to
cherish and encourage men in doubting. To which
kalendar of doubts or problems, I advise to be an-
nexed another kalendar, as much or more material,
which is a kalendar of popular errors; I mean chiefly
in natural history, such as pass in speech and conceit,
and' are nevertheless apparently detected and con-
victed of untruth, that man's knowledge be not
weakened nor imbased by such dross and vanity.

As for the doubts or non Umiets general or in total,
I understand those differences of opinions touching

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1"13

the principles of nature, and the fundamental points
of the same which have caused the diversity of sects,
schools, and philosophies, as that of Empedocles,
Pythagoras, Democritus, Parrnenides, and the rest.
For although Aristotle, as though he had been of the
race of the Ottomans, thought he could not reign, ex-
cept the first thing he did he killed all his brethren ;
yet to those that seek truth and not magistracy, it
cannot but seem a matter of great profit, to see before
them the several opinions touching the foundations
of nature: not for any exact truth that can be ex-
pected in those theories-' for as the same phaeno*
mena in astronomy are satisfied by the received astro*
nomy of the diurnal motion, and the proper motions
of the planets, with their eccentrics, and epicyles; and
likewise by the theory of Copernicus, who supposed
the earth to move, and the calculations are indiffer-
ently agreeable to both : so the ordinary face and view
of experience is many times satisfied by several theo-
ries and philosophies ; whereas to find the real truth
requireth another manner of severity and attention.
Tor, as Aristotle saith, that children at the first will
call every woman mother, but afterward they come to
distinguish according to truth : so experience, if it be
in childhood, will call every philosophy mother, but
when it cometh to ripeness, it will discern the true
mother ; so as in the mean time it is good to see the
several glosses and opinions upon nature, whereof it
may be every one in some one point hath seen
clearer than his fellows ; therefore I wish some col-
lection to be made painfully and understandingly ds
antiqiihphilosophiiS) out of all the possible light which
remaineth to us of them : which kind of work I find
deficient. But here I must give warning, that it be
done distinctly and severally, the philosophies of every
one throughout by themselves, and not by titles
packed and faggotted up together, as hath been done
by Plutarch. For it is the harmony of a philosophy
in itself which giveth it light and credence ; whereas
if it be singled and broken, it will seern more foreign
and dissonant. For as when I read in Tacitus the

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

actions of Nero or Claudius, with circumstances of
times, inducements and occasions, I find them not
so strange ; but when I read them in Suetonius Tran-
quillus, gathered into titles and bundles, and not in
order of time, they seem more monstrous and incre-^
dible ; so is it of any philosophy reported intire, and
dismembered by articles. Neither do I exclude opi-
nions of latter times to be likewise represented in
this kalendar of sects of philosophy, as that of Theo-
phrastus Paracelsus, eloquently reduced into an har-
mony by the pen of Severinus the Dane, and that
of Tilesius, and his scholar Donius, being as a pastoral
philosophy, full of sense, but of no great depth : and
that of Fracastorius, who though he pretended not to
make any new philosophy, yet did use the absolute-
ness of his own sense upon the old : and that of
Gilbertus, our countryman, who revived, with some
alterations and demonstrations, the opinions of Xeno*
phanes : and any other worthy to be admitted.

Thus have we now dealt with two of the three
beams of man's knowledge, that is, Radius directus,
which is referred to nature ; Radius refractus, which
is referred to God, and cannot report truly because of
the inequality of the medium ; there resteth Radius
reflexus, whereby man beholdeth and contemplateth
himself.

WE come therefore now to that knowledge where-
unto the ancient oracle directeth us, which is the
knowledge of ourselves; which deserveth the more
accurate handling, by how much it toucheth us more
nearly. This knowledge, as it is the end and term
of natural philosophy in the intention of man, so, not-
withstanding, it is but a portion of natural philosophy
in the continent of nature; and generally let this be
a rule, that all partitions of knowledges be accepted
rather for lines and veins, than for sections and sepa-
rations ; and that the continuance and intireness of
knowledge be preserved. For the contrary hereof
hath made particular sciences to become barren,
shallow, and erroneous, while they have not been

,,

Boc

ook II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 1 5

nourished and maintained from the common fountain.
So we see Cicero the orator complained of Socrates
and his school, that he was the first that separated
philosophy and rhetoric, whereupon rhetoric became
an empty and verbal art. So we may see, that the
opinion of Copernicus touching the rotation of the
earth., which astronomy itself cannot correct, because
it is not repugnant to any of the phenomena, yet
natural philosophy may correct. So we see also that
the science of medicine, if it be destitute and for-
saken by natural philosophy, it is not much better
than an empirical practice.

With this reservation therefore we proceed to Hu-
man Philosophy, or humanity, which hath two parts:
The one considereth man segregate or distributively:
the other congregate or in society. So as human phi-
losophy is either simple and particular, or conjugate
and civil. Humanity particularly consisteth of the
same parts whereof man consisteth, that is of know-
ledges which respect the body, and of knowledges
that respect the mind; but before we distribute so
far, it is good to constitute. For I do take the con-
sideration in general, and at large, of human nature
to be fit to be emancipated and make a knowledge
by itself; not so much in regard of those delightful
and elegant discourses which have been made of
the dignity of man, of his miseries, of his state and
life, and the like adjuncts of his common and undi-
vided nature ; but chiefly in regard of the knowledge
concerning the sympathies and concordances be-
tween the mind and body, which being mixed, can--
not be properly assigned to the sciences of either.

This knowledge hath two branches : for as all
leagues and amities consist of mutual intelligence and
mutual offices, so this league of mind and body hath
these two parts, how the one discloseth the other,
and how the one worketh upon the other; Disco-
very, and Impression.

The former of these hath begotten two arts, both
of prediction or prenotion, whereof the one is ho-
nored with the inquiry of Aristotle, and the other of

116 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II;

Hippocrates. And although they have of later time
been used to be coupled with superstitious and fan-
tastical arts, yet being purged and restored to their
true state, they have both of them a solid ground
Parsphysi- in nature, and a profitable use in life; The first is
de^estvT' physiognomy, which discovereth the disposition of
sive motu the mind by the lineaments of the body. The se-
cond is the exposition of natural dreams, which dis-
covereth the state of the body by the imaginations
of the mind* In the former of these I note a de-
ficience, for Aristotle hath very ingeniously and dili-
' gently handled the factures of the body, but not the
gestures of the body, which are no less comprehensible
by art, and of greater use and advantage, For the
lineaments of the body do disclose the disposition and
inclination of the mind in general ; but the motions
of the countenance and parts do not only so, but
do farther disclose the present humor and state of*
the mind and will. For, as your majesty saith most
aptly and elegantly, " As the tongue speaketh to the
ear, so the gesture speaketh to the eye." And
therefore a number of subtle persons, whose eyes
do dwell upon the faces and fashions of men, do
well know the advantage of this observation, as
being most part of their ability; neither can it be
denied, but that it is a great discovery of dissimu-
lations, and a great direction in business.

The latter branch touching impression, hath not
been collected into art, but hath been handled dis-
persedly ; and it hath the same relation or anti-
strophe that the former hath. For the consideration
is double ; " Either how, and how far the humors
<c and effects of the body do alter or work upon the
fc mind; or again, How, and how far the passions or
<c apprehensions of the mind do alter or work upon
<c the body." The former of these hath been in-
quired and considered, as a part and appendix of
medicine, but much more as a part of religion or
superstition : for the physician prescribeth cures of
the mind in frenzies and melancholy passions, and
pretendeth also to exhibit medicines to exhilarate the

k II.] Of the Advancement of Learning, * l7

mind, to confirm the courage, to clarify the wits, to
corroborate the memory, and the like : but the scru-
ples and superstitions of diet, and other regimen of
the body, in the sect of the Pythagoreans, in the he-
resy of the Manicheans, and in the law of Mahomet,
do exceed : So likewise the ordinances in the cere-
monial law, interdicting the eating of the blood and
fat, distinguishing between beasts clean and unclean
for meat, are many and strict. Nay the faith itself,
being clear and serene from all clouds of ceremony,
yet retaineth the use of fastings, abstinences, and other
macerations and humiliations of the body, as things
real and not figurative. The root and life of all which
prescripts is, besides the ceremony, the consideration
of that dependency which the affections of the mind
are submitted unto upon the state and disposition of
the body. And if any man of weak judgment do
conceive, that this suffering of the mind from the
body, doth either question the immortality, or dero-
gate from the sovereignty of the soul, he may be
taught in easy instances, that the infant in the mother's
womb is compatible with the mother, and yet sepa-
rable: and the most absolute monarch is sometimes
led by his servants, and yet without subjection. As
for the reciprocal knowledge, which is the operation
of the conceits and passions of the mind upon the
body; we see all wise physicians, in the prescriptions
of their regimens to their patients, do ever consider
accidentia animi, as of great force to further or hinder
remedies or recoveries ; and more especially it is an
inquiry of great depth and worth concerning ima-
gination, how, and how far it altereth the body proper
of the imaginant. For although it hath a manifest
power to hurt, it followeth not it hath the same degree
of power to help ; no more than a man can con-
clude, that because there be pestilent airs, able sud-
denly to kill a man in health, therefore there should
be sovereign airs, able suddenly to cure a man in
sickness. But the inquisition of this part is of great
use, though it needeth, as Socrates said, " a Delian
" diver," being difficult and profound. But unto all

VOL. I. I

1 8 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

this knowledge de commnni vinatlo, of the concord-
ances between the mind and the body, that part of
inquiry is most necessary, which considereth of the
seats and domiciles^ which the several faculties of the
mind do take and occupate in the organs of the body ;
which knowledge hath been attempted, and is con-
troverted, and deserveth to be much better inquired.
For the opinion of Plato, who placed the under-
standing in the brain, animosity (which he did un-
fitly call anger, having a greater mixture with pride)
in the heart, and concupiscence or sensuality in the
liver, deserveth not to be despised, but much less to
be allowed. So then we have constituted, as in our
own wish and advice, the inquiry touching human
nature intire, as a just portion of knowledge to be
handled apart.

The knowledge that concerneth man's Body, is
divided as the good of man's body is divided, unto
which it referreth. The good of man's body is of
four kinds, health, beauty, strength, and pleasure :
So the knowledges are medicine, or art of cure ; art
of decoration, which is called cosmetic ; a^t of acti-
vity, which is called athletic ; and art voluptuary,
which Tacitus truly calleth cruditiis lu.ms. The sub-
ject of man's body is of all other things in nature
most susceptible of remedy ; but then that remedy is
most susceptible >of error. For the same subtility of
the subject doth cause large possibility, and easy rail-
ing ; and therefore the inquiry ought to be the more
exact.

To speak therefore of medicine, and to resume
that we have said, ascending a little higher; the
ancient opinion that man was muTocostmis, an ab-
stract or model ot the world, hath been fantastically
strained by Paracelsus and the alchemists, as if there
were to be found in man's body certain correspond-
ences and parallels, which should have respect to ali
varieties of things, as stars, planets, minerals, which
are extant in the great world. But thus much is
evidently true, that of all substances which nature
hath produced, man's body is the most extremely

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 1 9

compounded : For we see herbs and plants are nou-
rished by earth and water; beasts for the most part
by herbs and fruits; man by the flesh of beasts, birds,
fishes, herbs, grains, fruits, water, and the manifold
alterations, dressings, and preparations of these several
bodies, before they come to be his food and aliment.
Add hereunto, that beasts have a more simple order
of life, and less change of affections to work upon
their bodies; whereas man in his mansion, sleep,
exercise, passions, hath infinite variations, and it can-
not be denied, but that the body of man of all other
things is of the most compounded mass. The soul
on the other side is the simplest of substances, as is
well expressed : Purumgue reliquit

JEthcreiim senstim, atque aiira'i simplicis

So that it is do marvel though the soul so placed en*
joy no rest, if that principle be true, that Motus renim
'€st rapidus extra locum, placidns in loco. But to the
purpose : this variable composition of man's body
hath made it as an instrument easy to distemper, and
therefore the poets did well to conjoin music and
medicine in Apollo, because the office of medicine is
but to tune this curious harp of man's body, and to
reduce it to harmony. So then the subject being so
variable, hath made the art by consequence more
conjectural; and the art being conjectural, hath
made so much the more place to be left for im-
posture. For almost all other arts and sciences are
judged by acts or master-pieces, as I may term them,
and not by the successes and events. The lawyer is
judged by the virtue of his pleading, and not by the
issue of the cause. The master of the ship is judged
by the directing his course aright, and not by the for-
tune of the voyage. But the physician, and per-
haps the politician, hath no particular acts demon-
strative of his ability, but is judge'd most by the event;
which is ever but as it is taken : for who can tell, if
a patient die or recover, or if a state be preserved or
ruined, whether it be art or accident ? And therefore
many times the impostor is prized, and the man of

I 2

12O Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

virtue taxed. Nay, we see the weakness and credu-
lity of men is such, as they will often prefer a moun-
tebank or witch before a learned physician. And
therefore the poets were clear-sighted in discerning
this extreme folly, when they made JEsculapius and
Circe brother and sister, both children of the sun,
as in the verses; ^En. vii. 772.

Ipse repertorem medicine tails et art is
Fulmine Phosbigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas :
And again,

Dives inaccessas ubi Solis Jilia facos, etc. JEn. vii. 11.
For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude,
witches, and old women, and impostors, have had a
competition with physicians. And what folio weth?
Even this; that physicians say to themselves, as So-
Joman expressed! it upon an higher occasion ; If it
befal to me, as befalleth to the fools, why should I labour
to be more wise? And therefore I cannot much blame
physicians, that they use commonly to intend some
other art or practice, which they 'fancy more than
their profession. For you shall have of them, anti-
quaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, merchants, di-
vines, and in every of these better seen than in
their profession ; and no doubt, upon this ground, that
they find that mediocrity and excellency in their art
maketh no difference in profit or reputation towards
their fortune; for the weakness of patients, and
sweetness ot life, and nature of hope, maketh men de-
pend upon physicians with all their defects. But,
nevertheless, these things, which we have spoken of,
are courses begotten between a little occasion, and a
great deal of sloth and default ; for if we will excite
and awake our observation, we shall see, in familiar
instances, what a predominant faculty the subtilty of
spirit hath over the variety of matter or form: no-
thing more variable than faces and countenances, yet
men. can bear in memory the infinite distinctions of
them; nay, a painter with a few shells of colours, and
the benefit of his eye, and habit of his imagination,
can imitate them all that ever have been, are, or may
be, if they were brought before 'him. Nothing more

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 121

variable than voices, yet men can likewise discern
them personally; nay, you shall have a buffoon, or
pantomimus, will express as many as he pleaseth.
Nothing more variable than the differing sounds of
words, yet men have found the way to reduce them
to a few simple letters. So that it is not the insuffi-
ciency or incapacity of man's mind, but it is the re-
mote standing or placing thereof, that breedeth these
mazes and incomprehensions: for as the sense afar off
is full of mistaking, but is exact at hand, so it is of
the understanding ; the remedy whereof is not to
quicken or strengthen the organ, but to go nearer to
the object ; and therefore there is no doubt, but if
the physicians will learn and use the true approaches
and avenues of nature, they may assume as much as
the poet saith :

Et qnoniam variant morbi, variabimus artes;
MULc mali species, milk salutis erunt.

Which that they should do, the nobleness of their
art doth deserve, well shadowed by the poets, in that
they made yEsculapius to be the son of the Sun, the
one being the fountain of life, the other as the second
stream ; but infinitely more honoured by the example
of our Saviour, who made the body of man the object
of his miracles, as the soul was the object of his doc-
trine. For we read not that ever he vouchsafed to do
any miracle about honor or money, except that one
for giving tribute to Caesar, but only about the pre-
serving, sustaining, and healing the body of man.

Medicine is a science which hath been, as we have
said, more professed than laboured, and yet more la-
boured than advanced ; the labour having been, in
my judgment, rather in circle than in progression.
For I find much iteration, but small addition. It
considereth the causes of diseases, with the occasions
or impulsions ; the diseases themselves, with the ac-
cidents; and the cures, with the preservations. The
deficiences which I think good to note, being a few
of many, and those such as are of a more open and
manifest nature, I will enumerate and not place.

122 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

The first is the discontinuance of the ancient and
serious diligence of Hippocrates, who used to set
down a narrative of the special cases of his patients,
and how they proceeded, and how they were judged
by recovery or death. Therefore having an example
proper in the father of the art, I shall not need to
alledge an example foreign, of the wisdom of the
lawyers, who are careful to report new cases and de-
cisions for the direction of future judgments. This
continuance of Medicinal History I find deficient,
which I understand neither to be so infinite as to
extend to every common case, nor so reserved, as
to admit none but wonders; for many things are new
in the manner, which are not new in the kind; and
if men will intend to observe, they shall find much
worthy to observe.
Anatomia jn ^e inquiry which is made by anatomv I find

comparata. i i r • r • • r -i

much dencience: for they inquire or the parts, and
their substances9 figures, and collocations; but they
inquire not of the diversities of the parts, the secrecies,
pf the passages, and the seats or nestling of the
humours, nor much of the footsteps and impressions
of diseases ; the reason of which omission I suppose
to be, because the first inquiry may be satisfied in the
view of one or a few anatomies ; but the latter being
comparative and casual, must arise from -the view of
many. And as to the diversity of parts, there is no
doubt but the facture or framing of the inward parts
is as full of difference as the outward, and in that is
the cause cpntinent of many diseases, which not
being observed, they quarrel many times with the
humours, which are not in fault, the fault being in
the very frame and mechanic of the part, which can-
not be moved by medicine alterative, but must be
accommodated and palliated by diets and medicines
familiar. And for the passages and pores, it is true,
which was anciently noted, that the more subtile
of them appear not in anatomies, because they are
shut and latent in dead bodies, though they be open
and manifest in live : which being supposed, thougti
{he inhumanity of anatomia vivorum was by Celsus

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 123

justly reproved ; yet in regard of the great use of this
observation, the inquiry needed not by him so slightly
to have been relinquished altogether, or referred to
the casual practices of surgery, but might have been
well diverted upon the dissection of beasts alive,
which, notwithstanding the dissimilitude of their
parts, may sufficiently satisfy this inquiry. And for the
humours, they are commonly passed over in anatomies
as purgaments, whereas it is most necessary to ob-
serve, what cavities, nests, and receptacles the hu-
mours do find in the parts, with the differing kind of
the humour so lodged and received. And as for
tne footsteps of diseases, and their devastations of
the inward parts, impostu mat ions, exujcerations, dis-
continuations, putrefactions, consumptions, contrac-
tions, extensions, convulsions, dislocations, obstruc-
tions, repletions, together with all preternatural sub-
stances, as stones, carnosities, excrescences, worms,
and the like ; they ought to have been exactly ob-
served by multitude of anatomies, and the contribu-
tion of mens several experiences, and carefully set
clown, both historically, according to the appearances,
and artificially, with a reference to the diseases and
symptoms which resulted from them, in case where
the anatomy is of a defunct patient; whereas now
upon opening of bodies, they are passed over slightly
and in silence.

In the inquiry of diseases they do abandon the Inq«'sitio

r J , . J , , , ulterior

cures of many, some as in their nature incurable, and <ie
others as past the period of cure ; so that Sylla and
the triumvirs never proscribed so many men to die,
as they do by their ignorant edicts, whereof numbers
do escape with less difficulty, than they did in the
Roman proscriptions. Therefore I will not doubt to
note as a cjeficience, that they inquire not the perfect
cures of many diseases, or extremities of diseases, but
pronouncing them incurable, do enact a law of neg-
lect, and exempt ignorance from discredit.

Nay farther, I esteem it the office of a physician DC cutin-
not only to restore health, but to mitigate pain and "(?rs-^x"
dolors, and not only when such mitigation may con-

j^sanabili

124 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

duce to recovery, but when it may serve to make a
fair and easy passage : for it is no small felicity which
Augustus Csesar was wont to wish to himself, that
same euthanasia, and which was specially noted in
the death of Antoninus Pius, whose death was after
the fashion and semblance of a kindly and pleasant
sleep. So it is written of Epicurus, that after his dis-
ease was judged desperate, he drowned his stomach
and senses with a large draught and ingurgitation of
wine ; whereupon the epigram was made, Hinc
Stygias ebrius hausit aquas : he was not sober enough
to taste any bitterness of the Stygian water. But the
physicians, contrariwise, do make a kind of scruple
and religion to stay with the patient after the disease
is deplored ; whereas, in my judgment, they ought
bbth to inquire the skill, and to give the attendances
for the facilitating and assvvaging of the pains and
agonies of death.

CinaB ^n ^ie consideration of the cures of diseases, I
find a deficieiice in the receipts of propriety, respect-
ing the particular cures of diseases : for the physi*
cians have frustrated the fruit of tradition and expe-
rience by their magistracies, in adding, and taking
out, and changing quid pro guoyin their receipts, at
their pleasures, commanding so over the medicine, as
the medicine cannot command over the disease ; for
except it be treacle and Mithridatum, and of late
diascorclium, and a few more, they tie themselves to
no receipts severely and religiously: for as to the
confections of sale which are in the shops, they are
for readiness and not for propriety ; for they are upon
general intentions of purging, opening, comforting,
altering, and not much appropriated to particular dis-
eases ; and this is the cause why empirics and old
women are more happy many times in their cures
than learned physicians, because they are more reli-
gious in holding their medicines, Therefore here is
the deficience which J tipd, that physicians have not,
partly out of their own practice, partly out of their
constant probations reported in books, and partly out
of the traditions of empirics, set down and delivered

M

»

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 125

over certain experimental medicines for the cure of
particular diseases, besides their own conjectural and
magisterial descriptions. For as they were the men
of the best composition in the state of Rome, which
either being consuls inclined to the people, or being
tribunes inclined to the senate ; so in the matter we
now handle, they be the best physicians, which being
learned, incline to the traditions of experience, or
being empirics, incline to the methods of learning.

In preparation of medicines, I do find strange, im-,tatio
especially considering how mineral medicines have natur* »«
been extolled, and that they are safer for the out- etaqoii
ward than inward parts, that no man hath sought to medu

r, r 111 cinalibus.

make an imitation by art or natural baths, and me-
dicinable fountains; which nevertheless are confessed
to receive their virtues from minerals; and not so
only, but discerned and distinguished from what par-
ticular mineral they receive tincture, as sulphur,
vitriol, steel, or the like ; which nature, if it may be
reduced to compositions of art, both the variety of
them will be increased, and the temper of them will
e more commanded,

But lest I grow to be more particular than is agree- Fiium me-
able, either to rny intention or to proportion ; 1 will
conclude this part with the note of one deficience
more, which seemeth to me of greatest consequence ;
which is, that the prescripts in use are too com-
pendious to attain their end ; for to my understanding,
it is a vain and flattering opinion to think any medi-
cine can be so sovereign, or so happy, as that the
receipt or use of it can work any great effect upon
the body of man : it were a strange speech, which
spoken, or spoken oft, should reclaim a man from a
vice to which he were by nature subject ; it is order,
pursuit, sequence, and interchange of application,
which is mighty in nature; which although it require
more exact knowledge in prescribing, and more pre-
cise obedience jn observing, yet is recompensed with
the magnitude of effects. And although a man
would think by the daily visitations of the physicians,
jthat there were a pursuance in the cure ; yet let a

12(5 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

man look into their prescripts and ministrations, and
he shall find them but inconstancies, and every day's
devices without any settled providence or project;
not that every scrupulous or superstitious prescript is
effectual, no more than every strait way is the way to
heaven, but the truth of the direction must precede
severity of observance.

For Cosmetic, it hath parts civil, and parts effe-
minate : for cleanness of body was ever esteemed to
proceed from a due reverence to God, to society, and
to ourselves. As for artificial decoration, it is well
worthy of the deficiences which it hath; being
neither fine enough to deceive, nor handsome to use,
nor wholesome to please.

For Athletic, I take the subject of it largely, that
is to say, for any point of ability, whereunto the
body of man may be brought, whether it be of ac-
tivity, or of patience ; whereof activity hath two
parts, strength and swiftness : and patience likewise
hath two parts, hardness against wants and extre-
mities, and indurance of pain or torment, whereof
we see the practices in tumbler^, in savages, and in
those that suffer punishment : nay, if there be any
other faculty which falls not within any of the former
divisions, as in those that dive, that obtain a strange
power of containing respiration, and the like, I refer
it to this part. Of these things the practices are
known, but the philosophy that concerneth them is
not much inquired ; the rather, I think, because they
are supposed to be obtained, either by an aptness of
nature, which cannot be taught, or only by con-
tinual custom, which is soon prescribed ; which
though it be not true, yet I forbear to note any de-
ficiences, for the Olympian games are down long
since, and the mediocrity of these things is for use ;
as for the excellency of them, it serveth for the most
part for mercenary ostentation.

For arts of Pleasure sensual, the chief deficience
in them is of Jaws to repress them. For as it hath
been ,well observed, that the arts which flourish in
times while virtue is in growth, are military, and

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 127

while virtue is in state, are liberal, and while virtue is
in declination, are voluptuary ; so I doubt, that this
age of the world is somewhat upon the descent of
the wheel. With arts voluptuary I couple practices
joculary ; for the deceiving of the senses is one of the
pleasures of the senses. As for games of recreation, I
hold them to belong to civil life and education. And
thus much of that particular human philosophy which
Concerns the body, which is but the tabernacle of
the mind.

FOR Human Knowledge, which concerns the
Mind, it hath two parts, the one that inquireth of the
substance or nature of the soul or mind, the other
fhat inquireth of the faculties or functions thereof.

Unto the first of these, the considerations of the
original of the soul, whether it be native or adven-
tive, and how far it is exempted from laws of matter,
and of the immortality thereof, and many other points,
do appertain ; which have been not more laboriously
inquired than variously reported ; so as the travel
therein taken, seemeth to have been rather in a maze
than in a way. But although I am of opinion, that
this knowledge may be more really and soundly in-
quired even in nature than it hath been ; yet I hold,
that in the end it must be bounded by religion, or else
it will be subject to deceit and delusion : for as the
substance of the soul in the creation was not ex-
tracted out of the mass of heaven and earth, by the
benediction of a producat, but was immediately in-
spired from Qod ; so it is not possible that it should
be, otherwise than by accident, subject to the Jaws of
heaven and earth, which are the subject of philo-
sophy j, and therefore the true knowledge of the na-
ture and state of the soul, must come by the same in-
spiration that gave the substance. Unto this part of
knowledge touching the soul there be two appendixes,
which, as they have been handled, have rather va-
poured forth fables than kindled truth, divination, and
fascination.

Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided into

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book 1 1,

artificial and natural ; whereof artificial is, when the
mind maketh a prediction by argument, concluding
upon signs and tokens ; natural is, when the mind
hath a presention by an internal power, without the
inducement of a sign. Artificial is of two sorts, either
when the argument is coupled with a derivation of
causes, which is rational ; or when it is only grounded
upon a coincidence of the effect, which is experi-
mental; whereof the latter for the most part is super-
stitious : such as were the heathen observations upon
the inspection of sacrifices, the flights of birds, the
swarming of bees, and such as were the Chaldean
astrology, and the like. For artificial divination, the
several kinds thereof are distributed amongst par-
ticular knowledges. The astronomer hath his pre-
dictions, as of conjunctions, aspects, eclipses, and the
like. The physician hath his predictions of death,
of recovery, of the accidents and issues of diseases.
The politician hath his predictions ; O urbem vcnalem,
tt dto perituram, si emptorem invenerit ! which stayed
not long to be performed in Sylla first, and after in
Ccesar ; so as these predictions are now impertinent,
and to be referred over. But the divination which
springeth from the internal nature of the soul, is that
which we now speak' of, which hath been made to
be of two sorts, primitive and by influxion. Primi-
tive is grounded upon the supposition, that the mind,
when it is withdrawn and collected into itself, and
not diffused into the organs of the body, hath some
extent and latitude of prenotion, which therefore ap-
peareth most in sleep, in extasies, and near death, and
more rarely in waking apprehensions ; and is induced
and furthered by those abstinences and observances
which make the mind most to consist in itself. By
influxion, is grounded upon the conceit that the
mind, as a mirror or glass, should take illumination
from the foreknowledge of God and spirits ; unto
which the same regimen doth likewise conduce. For
the retiring of the mind within itself, is the state
which is most susceptible of divine infiuxions, save
that it is accompanied in this case with a fervency

Book II. J Of the Advancement of Learning. 129

and elevation, which the ancients noted by fury, and
not with a repose and quiet, as it is in the other.

Fascination is the power and act of imagination
intensive upon other bodies than the body of the
imaginant : for of that we spake in the proper place;
wherein the school of Paracelsus, and the disciples of
pretended natural magic, have been so intemperate,
as that they have exalted the power of the imagina-
tion to be much one with the power of miracle-
working faith : others, that draw nearer to proba-
bility, calling to their view the secret passages of
things, and especially of the contagion that passe th
from body to body, do conceive it should likewise
be agreeable to nature, that there should be some
transmissions and operations from spirit to spirit,
without the mediation of the senses : whence the
conceits have grown, now almost made civil, of the
mastering spirit, and the force of confidence, and the
like. Incident unto this is the inquiry how to raise
and fortify the imagination ; for if the imagination
fortified have power, then it is material to know how
to fortify and exalt it. And herein comes in crook-
edly and dangerously, a palliation of a great part of
ceremonial magic. For it may be pretended, that
ceremonies, characters, and charms, do work, not by
any tacit or sacramental contract with evil spirits, but
serve only to strengthen the imagination of him that
useth it : as images are said by the Roman church to
fix the cogitations, and raise the devotions of them
that pray before them. But for mine own judgment,
if it be admitted that imagination hath power, aiad
that ceremonies fortify imagination, and that they be
used sincerely and intentionally for that purpose ; yet
I should hold them unlawful, as opposing to that first
edict which God gave unto man, In sudore vuttus co~
•me des panem titum. For they propound those noble
effects, which God hath set forth unto man to be
bought at the price of labour, to be attained by a few
easy and slothful observances. Deficiences in these
knowledges I will report none, other than the ge-

130 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

neral deficience, that it is not known how much of
them is verity, and how much vanity.

The knowledge which respecteth the faculties of
the mind of man, is of two kinds ; the one respecting
his understanding and reason, and the other his will,
appetite, and affection ; whereof the former pro-
duceth position or decree, the latter action or exe-
cution. It is true that the imagination is an agent
or mtncius in both provinces, both the judicial and the
ministerial. For sense sendeth over to imagination
before reason have judged, and reason sendeth over
to imagination before the decree can be acted : for
imagination ever precedeth voluntary motion, saving
that this Janus of imagination hath differing faces ;
for the face towards reason hath the print of truth*
but the face towards action hath the print of good,
which nevertheless are faces,

Qiiales decet esse $oromm.

Neither is the imagination simply and only a mes-
senger, but is invested with, or at leastwise usurpeth
no small authority in itself, besides the duty of the
message. For it was well said by Aristotle, " That
" the mind hath over the body that commandment,
<c which the lord hath over a bondman ; but that rea-
" son hath over the imagination that commandment
" which a magistrate hath over a free citizen/' who
may come also to rule in his turn. For we see that in
matters of faith and religion, we raise our imagination
above our reason, which is the cause why religion
sought ever access to the mind by similitudes; types,
parables, visions, dreams. And again, in all per-
suasions, that 'arc wrought by eloquence, and other
impressions of like nature, which do paint and dis-
guise the true appearance of things, the chief recom-
mendation unto reason is from the imagination.
Nevertheless, because I find not any science that doth
properly or fitly pertain to the imagination, I see no
cause to alter the former division. For as for poesy,
it is rather a pleasure, or play of imagination, than a
work of duty thereof. And if it be a work, we speak

»

ok II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 131

not now of such parts of learning as the imagination
produce tb, but of such sciences as handle and con-
sider of the imagination ; no more than we shall
speak now of such knowledges as reason produceth,
for that extendeth to all philosophy, but of such
knowledges as do handle and inquire of the faculty of
reason ; so as poesy had its true place. As for the
power of the imagination in nature, and the manner
of fortifying the same, we have mentioned it in the
doctrine De anima, whereunto most fitly it belongeth :
and lastly, for imaginative or insinuative reason,
which is the subject of rhetoric, we think it best to
refer it to the arts of reason. So therefore we content
ourselves with the former division, that Human Philo-
sophy, which respecteth the faculties of the mind of
man hath two parts, Rational and Moral.

The part of Human Philosophy which is Rational,
is of all knowledges, to the most wits, the least de-
lightful, and seemeth but a net of subtilty and spino-
sity : for as it was truly said, that knowledge is
pabulum am' mi ; so in the nature of mens appetite to
this food, most men are of the taste and stomach of
the Israelites in the desert, that would fain have re-
turned ad ollas carnium, and were weary of manna >
which though it were celestial, yet seemed less nu-
tritive and comfortable. So generally men taste well
knowledges that are drenched in flesh and blood,
civil history, morality, policy, about the which mens
affections, praises, fortunes, do turn and are con-
versant ; but this same lumen siccum doth parch and
offend most mens watery and soft natures. But to
speak truly of things as they are in worth, rational
knowledges are the keys of all other arts ; for as Ari-
stotle saith aptly and elegantly," That the hand is the
" instrument of instruments, and the mind is the
" form of forms ;" so these be truly said to be the
art of arts ; neither do they only direct, but likewise
confirm and strengthen : even as the habit of shooting
doth not only enable to shoot a nearer shoot, but also
to draw a stronger bow.

The arts intellectual are four in number, divided

122 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

according to the ends whereunto they are referred ;
for man's labour is to invent that which is sought or
propounded ; or to judge that which is invented ; or
to retain that which is judged ; or to deliver over that
which is retained. So as the arts must be four; art
of inquiry or invention ; art of examination or judg-
ment ; art of custody or memory ; and art of elo-
cution or tradition.

Invention is of two kinds, much differing; the one
of arts and sciences, and the other of speech and ar-
guments. The former of these I do report deficient ;
which seemeth to me to be such a deficience, as if in
the making of an inventory, touching the state of a
defunct, it should be set down, That there is no ready
money. For as money will fetch all other commodi-
ties, so this knowledge is that which should purchase
all the rest. And like as the West-Indies had never
been Discovered, if the use of the mariner's needle had
not been first discovered, though the one be vast re-
gions, and the other a small motion ; so it cannot
be found strange, if sciences be no farther discovered,
if the art itself of invention and discovery hath been
passed over.

That this part of knowledge is wanting to my
judgment, standeth plainly confessed: for first, logic
doth not pretend to invent sciences, or the axioms of
sciences, but passeth it over with a cuique in sua artc
credendum. And Celsus acknowledgeth it gravely,
speaking of the empirical and dogmatical sects of
physicians, " That medicines and cures were first
" found out, and then after the reasons and causes
" were discoursed ; and not the causes first found
" out, and by light from them the medicines and
" cures discovered." And Plato, in his Thextetus,
noteth well, " That particulars are infinite, and the
" higher generalities give no sufficient direction ;
" and that the pith of all sciences, which maketh the
" artsman differ from the inexpert, is in the middle
" propositions, which in every particular knowledge
" are taken from tradition and experience." And
therefore we see, that they which discourse of the ii>

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 3 3

ventions and originals of things, refer them rather to
chance than to art, and rather to beasts, birds, fishes,
serpents, than to men.

Dictamnum genetrix Crettfa carpit ab Ida,

Pubcribus caidem foliis ^ et flore comantem

Purjnirco : non illaferis incognita capris,

Gramina cum tergo volucres hcesere sagittcc.
So that it was no marvel, the manner of antiquity
being to consecrate inventors, that the ^Egyptians had
so few human idols in their temples, but almost all
brute.

Omnigenumque Deum monstra, el latrator Anubis,
Contra Neptunum, et Venerem, contraque Minervam,

etc.

And if you like better the tradition of the Grecians*
and ascribe the first inventions to men, yet you will
rather believe that Prometheus first struck the flints,
and marvelled at the spark, than that when he first
struck the flints he expected the spark ; and therefore
we see the West-Indian Prometheus had no intelli-
gence with the European, because of the rareness
with them of flint, that gave the first occasion : so as
it should seem, that hitherto men are rather beholden
to a wild goat for surgery, or to a nightingale for
music, or to the ibis for some part of physic, or to
the potlid that flew open for artillery, or generally
to chance, or any thing else, than to logic, for the in-
vention of arts and sciences. Neither is the form of
invention which Virgil describeth much other.

Ut varias usus meditando extunderet artes

Paula tun.

For if you observe the words well, it is no other
method than that which brute beasts are capable of
and do put in use : which is a perpetual intending or
practising some one thing, urged and imposed by
an absolute necessity of conservation of being ; for
so Cicero saith very truly, Usus uni rei deditus, et na-
turam et artem sccpe vincit. And therefore if it be

said of men, r , ....

Labor omma vincit

Lnprobus, et duris itrgens in rebus ejestas ;
VOL. i. K

1 3 4? Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

it is likewise said of beasts, Quit psittaco dociiit suum
%a~pe ; Who taught the raven in a drought to throw
pebbles into an hollow tree, where she espied water,
that the water might rise so as she might come to it ?
Who taught the bee to sail through such a vast sea of
air, and to find the way from a field in flower, a great
way off, to her hive ? Who taught the ant to bite
every grain of corn that she burieth in her hill, lest it
should take root and grow ? Add then the word ex-
tundere, which importeth the extreme difficulty ; and
the word paulatim, which importeth the extreme
slowness ; and we are where we were, even amongst
the ^Egyptians gods ; there being little left to the fa-
culty of reason, and nothing to the duty of art, for
matter of invention.

Secondly, the induction which the logicians speak
of, and which seemeth familiar with Plato, whereby
the principles of sciences may be pretended to be
invented, and so the middle propositions by derivation
from the principles; their form of induction, I say, is
utterly vicious and incompetent ; wherein their error
is the fouler, because it is the duty of art to perfect
and exalt nature ; but they contrariwise have wronged,
abused, and traduced nature. For he that shall at-
tentively observe how the mind doth gather this ex-
cellent dew of knowledge, like unto that which the
poet speaketh of, Atrd mellis ccelestia do?iay distilling
and contriving it out of particulars natural and arti-
ficial, as the flowers of the field and garden, shall find,
that the mind of herself by nature doth manage and
act an induction much better than they describe it.
For to conclude upon an enumeration of particulars
without instance contradictory, is no conclusion, but
a conjecture ; for who can assure, in many subjects,
upon those particulars which appear of a side, that
there are not other on the contrary side which appear
not. As if Samuel should have rested upon those
sons of Jesse, which were brought before him, and
failed of David which was in the field. And this
form, to say truth, is so gross, as it had not been
possible for wits so subtile, as have managed these

Book II. ] Of the Advancement of Learning. 135

things, to have offered it to the world, but that they .
hasted to their theories and dogmaticals, and were im-
perious and scornful toward particulars, which their
manner was to use but as lidores and viatories, for
Serjeants and whifflers, ad summovcndam turbam, to
make way and make room for their opinions, rather
than in their true use and service : certainly it is a
thing may touch a man with a religious wonder to
see how the footsteps of seducement are the very
same in divine and human truth ; for as in divine
truth man cannot endure to become as a child ; so in
human, they reputed the attending the inductions,
whereof we speak, as if it were a second infancy or
childhood.

Thirdly, allow some principles or axioms were
rightly induced, yet nevertheless certain it is, that
middle propositions cannot be deduced from them in
subject of nature by syllogism, that is, by touch and
reduction of them to principles in a middle term.
It is true that in sciences popular, as moralities, laws,
and the like : yea and divinity, because it pleaseth God
to apply himself to the capacity of the simplest,- that
form may have use, and in natural philosophy like-
wise, by way of argument or satisfactory reason, Qua ^
assensum parity operis ejfiita est ; but the subtilty of
nature and operations will not be inchained in those
bonds: for arguments consist of propositions, and pro-
postions of words, and words are but the current tokens
or marks of popular notions of things; which notions,
if they be grossly and variably collected out of particu-
lars, it is not the laborious examination either of con-
'sequences of arguments, or of the truth of proposi-
tions, that can ever correct that error, being, as the
physicians speak, in the first digestion; and therefore
it was not without cause, that so many excellent
philosophers became sceptics and academics, and
denied any certainty of knowledge or comprehension,
and held opinion, that the knowledge of man ex-
tended only to appearances and probabilities. It is
true, that in Socrates it was supposed to be but a form
of irony, Sdcntiam dissimulando simulavit: for he

K2

136 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

used to disable his knowledge, to the end to enhance
his knowledge, like the humour of Tiberius in his
beginnings, that would reign, but would not ac-
knowledge so much ; and in the later academy, which
Cicero embraced, this opinion also of acatalepsiay
I doubt, was not held sincerely : for that all those
which excelled in copia of speech, seem to have
chosen that sect as that which was fittest to give glory
to their eloquence, and variable discourses; being ra-
ther like progresses of pleasure, than journeys to an
end. But assuredly many scattered in both academies
did hold it in subtilty and integrity. But here was
their chief error ; they charged the deceit upon the
senses, which in my judgment, notwithstanding all
their cavillations, are very sufficient to certify and re-
port truth, though not always immediately, yet by
comparison, by help of instrument, and by producing
and urging such things as are too subtile for the sense,
to some effect comprehensible by the sense ; and
other like assistance. But they ought to have charged
the deceit upon the weakness of the intellectual
powers, and upon the manner of collecting and con-
cluding upon the reports of the senses. This I speak
not to disable the mind of man, but to stir it up to
seek" help : for no man, be he never so cunning or
practised, can make a straight line or perfect circle
by steadiness of hand, which may be easily done by
help of a ruler or compass.
Expcrientia rjfhis -part of invention, concerning the invention

literata, et c -r ^ j • i

or sciences, I purpose, it Crod give me leave, here-
after to propound, having digested it into two parts;
whereof the one I term experientia literata, and the
other, interpretatio nature : the former being but a
degree and rudiment of the latter. . But I will not
dwell too long, nor speak too much upon a promise.

The invention of speech or argument is not pro-
perly an invention ; for to invent, is to discover that
we know not, and not to recover or resurnmon that
which we already know ; and the use of this invention
is no other, but out of the knowledge, whereof our
mind is already possessed, to draw forth or call before

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 37

us that which may be pertinent to the purpose which
we take into our consideration. So as, to speak truly,
it is no invention, but a remembrance or suggestion,
with an application ; which is the cause why the
schools do place it after judgment, as subsequent and
not precedent. Nevertheless, because we do account it
a chace, as well of deer in an inclosed park, as in a
forest at large, and that it hath already obtained the
name ; let it be called invention, so as it be perceived
and discerned that the scope and end of this in-
vention is readiness and present use of our know-
ledge, and not addition or amplification thereof.

To procure this ready use or knowledge there are
two courses, preparation and suggestion. The former
of these seemeth scarcely a part of knowledge, con-
sisting rather of diligence than of any artificial eru-
dition. And herein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully,
doth deride the sophists near his time, saying,
" They did as if one that professed the art of shoe-
" making should not teach how to makeup a shoe,
" but only exhibit in a readiness a number of shoes
cc of all fashions and sizes." But yet a man might
reply, that if a shoemaker should have no shoes in
his shop but only work as he is bespoken, he should
be weakly customed. But our Saviour, speaking of
divine knowledge, saith, that the kingdom of heaven
is like a good housholder, that bringeth forth new and
old store: and we see the ancient writers of rhetoric
do give it in precept, that pleaders should have the
places whereof they have most continual use, ready
handled in all the variety that may be ; as that, to
speak for the literal interpretation of the law against
equity, and contrary ; and to speak for presumptions
and inferences against testimony, and contrary. And
Cicero himself, being broken unto it by great ex-
perience, delivereth it plainly : that whatsoever a man
shall have occasion to speak of, if he will take the
pains, may have it in effect premeditate, and handled
in thesi : so that when he cometh to a particular, he
shall have nothing to do, but to add names, and times,
and places, and such other circumstances of indi-

138 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

viduals. We see likewise the exact diligence of De-.
mosthenes, who in regard of the great force that the
entrance and access into causes hath to make a good
impression, had ready framed a number of prefaces
for orations and speeches. All which authorities and
precedents may overweigh Aristotle's opinion, that
would have us change a rich wardrobe for a pair
of shears.

But the nature of the collection of this provision
or preparatory store, though it be common both to
logic and rhetoric, yet havirig made an entry of it
here, where it came first to be spoken of, I think fit
to refer over the farther handling of it to rhetoric.

The other part of invention, which I term sugges-
tion, doth assign and direct us to certain marks or
places which may excite our mind to return and pro-
duce such knowledge, as it hath formerly collected,
to the end we may make use thereof. Neither is this
use, truly taken, only to furnish argument to dispute
probably with others, but likewise to minister unto
our judgment to conclude aright within ourselves,
Neither may these places serve only to prompt our
invention, but also to direct our inquiry. For a fa-
culty of wise interrogating is half a knowledge. For
as Plato saith, " Whosoever seeketh, knoweth that
" which he seeketh for in a general notion, else how
fc shall he know it when he hath found it?" And
therefore the larger your anticipation is, the more
direct and compendious is your search. But the
same places which will help us what to produce of
that which we know already, will also help us, if
a man. of experience were before us, what questions
to ask ; or, if we have books and authors to instruct
us, what poinis to search and revolve : so as I cannot
report, that this pa,rt of invention, which is that
which the schools call topics, is deficient.

Nevertheless topics are of two sorts, general and
special. The general we have spoken to, but the par-
ticular hath been touched by some, but rejected ge-
nerally as inartificial and variable. But leaving the
humour which hath reigned too much in the schools*

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 139

which is, to be vainly subtile in a few things, which
are within their command, and to reject the rest, I do
receive particular topics, that is, places or directions
of invention and inquiry in every particular know-
ledge, as things of great use, being mixtures of logic
with the matter of sciences : for in these it holdeth,
Ars invenicndi adolcscit cum invcntis ; for as in going
of a way, we do not only gain that part of the way
which is passed, but we gain the better sight of that
part of the way which remaineth ; so every degree of
proceeding in a science giveth a light to that which
followeth, which light if we strengthen, by drawing
it forth into questions or places of inquiry, we do
greatly advance our pursuit.

Now we pass unto the arts of judgment, which
handle the natures of proofs and demonstrations,
which as to induction hath a coincidence with inven-
tion : for in all inductions, whether in good or vicious
form, the same action of the mind which inventeth,
judgeth ; all one as in the sense : but otherwise it is
in proof by syllogism ; for the proof being not imme-
diate, but by mean, the invention of the mean is one
thing, and the judgment of the consequence is another j
the one exciting only, the other examining. There-
fore, for the real and exact form of judgment, we
refer ourselves to that which we have spoken of in-
terpretation of nature.

For the other judgment by syllogism, as it is a
thing most agreeable to the mind of man, so it hath
been vehemently and excellently laboured ; for the
nature of man doth extremely covet to have some-
what in his understanding fixed and immovable, and
as a rest and support of the mind. And therefore as
Aristotle endeavoureth to prove, that in all motion
there is some point quiescent •> and as he elegantly
expoundeth the ancient fable of Atlas, that stood
fixed, and bore up the heaven from falling, to be
meant of the poles or axle-tree of heaven, whereupon
the conversion is accomplished ; so assuredly men
have a desire to have an Atlas or axle-tree within, to
keep them from fluctuation, which is like to a per-

HO Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

petual peril of falling; therefore men did hasten to*
set down some principles about which the variety of
their disputations might turn.

So then this art of judgment is but the reduction of
propositions to principles in a middle term. The
principles to be agreed by all, and exempted from
argument : the middle term to be elected at the li-
berty of every man's invention ; the reduction to be
of two kinds, direct and inverted ; the one when the
proposition is reduced to the principle, which they
term a probation ostensive ; the other when the con^
tradictory of the proposition is reduced to the contra-
dictory of the principle, which is, that which they
call per incommodum, or pressing an absurdity ; the
number of middle terms to be as the proposition,
standeth degrees more or less removed from the prin*
ciple.

But this art hafh two several methods of doctrine,
the one by way of direction, the other by way of
caution ; the former frameth and setteth down a true
form of consequence, by the variations and deflections
- from which errors and inconsequences maybe exactly
judged. Toward the composition and structure of
which form it is incident to handle the parts thereof,
which are propositions, and the parts of proposi-
tions, which are simple words ; and this is that part
of logic which is comprehended in the analytics.

The second method of doctrine was introduced for
expedite use and assurance sake, discovering the more
subtile forms of sophisms and illaqueations, with their
redargutions, which is that which is termed clenches.
For although in the more gross sorts of fallacies it
happeneth, as Seneca maketh the comparison well,
as in juggling feats, which though we know not how
they are done, yet we know well it is not as it
seemeth to be ; yet the more subtile sort of them doth
not only put a man besides his answer, but doth many
times abuse his judgment.

This part concerning Elenches, is excellently
handled by Aristotle in precept, but more excellently
by Plato in example ; not only in the persons of thq

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 141

sophists, but even in Socrates himself, who professing
to affirm nothing, but to infirm that which was
affirmed by another, hath exactly expressed all the
forms of objection, fallacy, and redargution. And
although we have said that the use of this doctrine
is for redargution ; yet it is manifest, the degenerate
and corrupt use is for caption and contradiction,
which passeth for a great faculty, and no doubt is of
very great advantage, though the difference, be good
which was made between orators and sophisters, that
the one is as the greyhound, which hath his advan-
tage in the race, and the other as the hare, which
hath her advantage in the turn, so as it is the advan-
tage of the weaker creature.

But yet farther, this doctrine of Elenches hath a
more ample latitude and extent, than is perceived ;
namely, unto divers parts of knowledge ; whereof
some are laboured and others omitted. For first, I
conceive, though it may seem at first somewhat
strange, that that part which is variably referred,
sometimes to logic, sometimes to metaphysic, touch-
ing the common adjuncts of essences, is but an
Elenche ; for the great sophism of all sophisms being
equivocation or ambiguity of words and phrase, es-
pecially of such words as are most general and inter-
vene in every inquiry ; it seemeth to me that the true
and fruitful uses, leaving vain subtilties and specula-
tions, of the inquiry of majority, minority, priority,
posteriority, indentity, diversity, possibility, act, to-
tality, parts, existence, privation, and the like, are
but wise cautions against ambiguities of speech. So
again, the distribution of things into certain tribes,
which we call categories or predicaments, are but
cautions against the confusion of definitions and di-
visions.

Secondly, there is a seducement that worketh by
the strength of the impression, and not by the sub-
tilty of the illaqueation, not so much perplexing the
reason, as over-ruling it by power of the imagination.
But this part I think more proper to handle when I
shall speak of rhetoric.

142 Of the Advancemen t of Learning. [Book II.

But lastly, there is yet a much more important and
profound kind of fallacies in the mind of man, which
1 find not observed or inquired at all, and think good
to place here, as that which of all others appertaineth
most to rectify judgment: the force whereof is such,
as it doth not dazzle or snare the understanding in
some particulars, but doth more generally and in-
wardly infect ar>d corrupt the sta,te thereof. For the
mind of man is far from the nature of a clear and
equal glass, wherein the beams of things should re-
flect according to their true incidence ; nay, it is
rather like an inchanted glass, full of superstition and
imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced. For
tli is purpose, let us consider the false appearances
that are imposed upon us by the general nature of
the mind, beholding them in an example or two, as
first in that instance which is the root of all super-
stition, namely, that to the nature of the mind of all
men it is consonant for the affirmative or active to
effect, more than the negative or privative. So that
a few times hitting, or presence, countervails oft-
times failing, or absence ; as was well answered by
Diagoras to him that shewed him, in Neptune's tem-
ple, the great number of pictures of such as had
escaped shipwreck, and had paid their vows to Nep-
tune, saying, " Advise now, you that think it folly
" to invocate Neptune in tempest. Yea, but, saith
<( Diagoras, where are they painted that are drowned ?"
Let us behold it in another instance, namely, " That
" the spirit of man, being of an equal and uniform
(C substance, doth usually suppose and feign in nature
" a greater equality and uniformity than is in truth."
Hence it cometh that the mathematicians cannot
satisfy themselves, except they reduce the motions
of the celestial bodies to perfect circles, rejecting
spiral lines, and labouring to be discharged of ec-
centrics. Hence it cometh, that whereas there are
many things in nature, as it were monodlcay sui juris ^
yet the cogitations of man do feign unto them rela-
tives, parallels, -and conjugates, whereas no such
thing is 3 as they have feigned an element of fire to

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 143

keep square with earth, water, and air, and the like;
nay, it is not credible, till it be opened, what a
number of fictions and fancies, the similitude of hu-
man actions and arts, together with the making of
man communis mcnsura, have brought into natural
philosophy, not much better than the heresy of the
Anthropomorphites, bred in the cells of gross and
solitary monks, and the opinion of Epicurus, answer-
able to the same in heathenism, who supposed the
gods to be of human shape. And therefore Velleius
the Epicurean needed not to have asked, why God
should have adorned the heavens with stars, as if
he had been an ^Edilis; one that should have set
forth some magnificent shews or plays. For if that
great work-master had been of an human disposition,
he would have cast the stars into some pleasant and
beautiful works and orders, like the frets in the roofs
of houses; whereas one can scarce find a posture
in square, or triangle, or straight line, amongst such
an infinite number ; so differing an harmony there
is between the spirit of man, and the spirit of nature.

Let us consider, again, the false appearances im-
posed upon us by every man's own individual nature
and custom, in that feigned supposition that PJato
niaketh of the ca\ e ; for certainly if a child were
continued in a grot or cave under the earth until
maturity of age, and came suddenly abroad, he would
have strange and absurd imaginations. So in like
manner, although our persons live in the view of
heaven, yet our spirits are included in the caves of
our own complexions and customs, which minister
unto us infinite errors and vain opinions, if they be
not recalled to examination. But hereof we have
given many examples in one of the errors, or pec-
cant humors, which we ran briefly over in our first
book.

And lastly, let us consider the false appearances
that are imposed upon us by words, which are framed
and applied according to the conceit and capacities
of the vulgar sort; and although we think we govern
our words, and prescribe it well Loqucndiwi ul vul-

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IT.

gus, sentiendum ut sapientes ; yet certain it is, that
words, as a Tartar's bow, do "shoot back upon the
understanding of the wisest, and mightily inrangle
and pervert the judgment ; so as it is almost necessary
in^all controversies and disputations, to imitate the
"wisdom of the mathematicians, in setting down in the
very beginning the definitions of our words and
terms, that others may know how we accept and
understand them, and whether they concur with us
or no. For it cometh to pass, for want of this, that
we are sure to end there where we ought to have
begun, which is in questions and differences about
words. To conclude therefore, it must be confessed
tnat it is not possible to divorce ourselves from these
idoiid° ^a^acies an(i felse appearances, because they are in-
antmihu- separable from our nature and condition of Jife ; so
mani na- yet nevertheless the caution of them, for all clenches,

tivis et ad- . -, . , , ,

vcntiis. as was said, are but cautions, doth extremely import
the true conduct of human judgment. The particular
clenches or cautions against these three false appear-
ances, I find altogether deficient.

There remaineth one part of judgment of great
excellency, which to mine understanding is so slightly
touched, as I may report that also deficient; which is,
the application of the differing kinds of proofs to the
differing kinds of subjects ; for there being but four
Dc_ana- kinds of demonstrations, that is, by the immediate
demon. consent of the mind or sense, by induction, by syllo-
stratiomim- gism, and by congruity ; which is that which Ari-
stotle calleth demonstration in orb, or circle, and not
a notioribus -, every of these hath certain subjects in
the matter of sciences, in which respectively they
have chiefest use ; and certain others, from which
respectively they ought to be excluded, and the rigor
and curiosity in requiring the more severe proofs in
some things, and chiefly the facility in contenting
ourselves with the more remiss proofs in others, hath
been amongst the greatest causes of detriment and
hindrance to knowledge. The distributions and as-
signations of demonstrations, according to the ana-
logy of sciences, I note as deficient.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 145

The custody or retaining of knowledge is either in
writing or memory; whereof writing hath two parts,
the nature of the character, and the order of the
entry: for the art of characters, or other visible notes
of words or things, it hath nearest conjugation with
grammar ; and therefore I refer it to the due place :
for the disposition and collocation of that knowledge
which we preserve in writing, it consisteth in a good
digest of common-places, wherein I am not ignorant
of the prejudice imputed to the use of common-place
books, as causing a retardation of reading, and some
sloth or relaxation of memory. But because it is but
a counterfeit thing in knowledges to be forward and
pregnant, except a man be deep and full, I hold the
entry of common-places, to be a matter of great use
and essence in studying, as that which assureth copia
of invention, and contracteth judgment to strength.
But this is true, that of the methods of common-
places that I have seen, there is none of any sufficient
worth, all of them carrying merely the face of a
school, and not of a world, and referring to vulgar
matters, and pedantical divisions, without all life,
or respect to action.

For the other principal part of the custody of
knowledge, which is memory, I rind that faculty in
my judgment weakly inquired of. An art there is
extant of it ; but it seemeth to me that there are
better precepts than that art, and better practices
of that art, than those received. It is certain the art,
as it is, may be raised to points of ostentation prodi-
gious : but in use, as it is now managed, it is barren,
not burdensome, nor dangerous to natural memory, as
is imagined, but barren ; that is, not dexterous to be
applied to the serious use of business and occasions.
And therefore I make no more estimation of repeat-
ing a great number of names or words upon once-
hearing, or the pouring forth of a number of verses
or rhimes ex tempore, or the making of a satirical
simile of every thing, or the turning of every thing
to a jest, or the falsifying or contradicting of every
thing by cavil, or the like, whereof in the faculties

146 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IL

1 of the mind there is great copia, and such as by de-
vice and practice may be exalted to an extreme
degree of wonder, than I do of the tricks of tum-
blers, funambuloes, baladines; the one being the
same in the mind, that the other is in the body 3
matters of strangeness without worthiness.

This art of memory is but built upon two inten-
tions ; the one prenotion, the other emblem. Preno-
tion dischargeth the indefinite seeking of that we
would remember, and directeth us to seek in a narrow
compass; that is, somewhat that hath congruity with
our place of memory. Emblem reduceth conceits
intellectual to images sensible, which strike the me-
mory more ; out of which axioms may be drawn
much more practical than that in use ; and besides
which axioms, there are divers more touching help
of memory, not inferior to them. But I did in the
beginning distinguish, not to report those things de-
ficient, which are but only ill managed.

There remaineth the fourth kind of rational know-
ledge, which is transitive, concerning the expressing
or transferring our knowledge to others, which I will
term by the general name of tradition or delivery.
Tradition hath three parts : the first concerning the
organ of tradition ; the second concerning the me-
thod of tradition ; and the third, concerning the
illustration of tradition.

For the organ of tradition, it is either speech or
writing : for Aristotle saith well, " Words are the
" images of cogitations, and letters are the images of
<c words j" but yet it is not of necessity that cogi-
tations be expressed by the medium of words. For
whatsoever is capable of sufficient differences, and
those perceptible by the sense, is in nature competent
to express cogitations. And therefore we see in the
commerce of barbarous people, that understand not
one another's language, and in the practice of divers
that are dumb and deaf, that mens minds are ex-
pressed in gestures, though not exactly, yet to serve
the turn. And we understand farther, that it is the
use of China, and the kingdoms of the high Levant,

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 147

to write in characters real, which express neither let-
ters nor words in gross, but things or notions ; inso-
much as countries and provinces, which understand
not one another's language, can nevertheless read
one another's writings, because the characters are
accepted more generally than the languages do ex-
tend ; and therefore they have a vast multitude of
characters, as many, I suppose, as radical words.

These notes of cogitations are of two sorts ; the one
when the note hath some similitude or congruity with
the notion; the other ad placitum, having force only
by contract or acceptation. Of the former sort are
hieroglyphics and gestures. For as to hieroglyphics,
things of ancient use, and embraced chiefly by the
./Egyptians, one of the most ancient nations, they are
but as continued impresses and emblems. And as
for gestures, they are as transitory hieroglyphics, and
are to hieroglyphics as words spoken are to words
written, in that they abide not : but they have ever-
more, as well as the other, an affinity with the things
signified ; as Periander, being consulted with how to
preserve a tyranny newly usurped, bid the messenger
attend and report what he saw him do, and went
into his garden and topped all the highest flowers ;
signifying, that it consisted in the cutting off and
keeping low of the nobility and grandees. Ad pla-
citum are the characters real before mentioned, and
words : although some have been willing by curious
inquiry, or rather by apt feigning, to have derived
imposition of names from reason and intendment ; a
speculation elegant, and by reason it searcheth into
antiquity, reverent ; but sparingly mixed with truth,
and of small fruit. This portion of knowledge, touch-
ing the notes of things, and cogitations in general, I return!"
find not inquired, but deficient. And although it
may seem ot no great use, considering that words and
writings by letters do far excel all the other ways; yet
because this part concerneth, as it were, the mint of
knowledge, for words are the tokens current and ac-
cepted for conceits, as moneys are for values, and
that it is fit men be not ignorant that moneys may be

143 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

of another kind than gold and silver, I thought good
to propound it to better inquiry.

Concerning speech and words, the consideration
of them hath produced the science of Grammar ; for
man still striveth to reintegrate himself in those bene-
dictions, from which by his fault he hath been de-
prived ; and as he hath striven against the first general
curse, by the invention of all other arts; so hath he
sought to come forth of the second general curse,
which was the confusion of tongues, by the art of
grammar, whereof the use in a mother tongue is
small ; in a foreign tongue more ; but most in such
foreign tongues as have ceased to be vulgar tongues,
and are turned only to learned tongues. The duty of
it is of two natures ; the one popular, which is for
the speedy and perfect attaining languages, as well
for intercourse of speech as for understanding of au-
thors; the other philosophical, examining the power
and nature of words, as they are the footsteps and
prints of reason : which kind of analogy between
words and reason is handled sparsim, brokenly, though
not intirely ; and therefore I cannot report it deficient,
though I think it very worthy to be reduced into a
science by itself.

Unto grammar also belongeth, as an appendix,
the consideration of the accidents of words, which
are measure, sound, and elevation or accent, and
the sweetness and harshness of them : whence hath
issued some curious observations in rhetoric, but
chiefly poesy, as we consider it, in respect of the
verse, and not of the argument; wherein though men
in learned tongues do tie themselves to the ancient
measures, yet in modern languages it seemeth to
me, as free to make new measures ol: verses as of
dances ; for a dance is a measured pace, as a verse
is .a measured speech. In these things the sense is
better judge than the art;

C(cme fercula nosine,
AfaUem convivis, quam placuisse cods.
And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike
and an unfit subject, it is well said, Quod tempore an-
tiqmim videlur'. id incoiigruifate csi maxime ?wvum.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or al-
phabets, but may be in words. The kinds of ciphers,
besides the simple ciphers, with changes, and inter-
mixtures of nulls and non-significants, are many,
according to the nature or rule of the infolding;
wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, doubles, etc. But the
virtues of them, whereby they are to be preferred, are
three ; that they be not laborious to write and read ;
that they be impossible to decipher; and in some
cases, that they be without suspicion. The highest
degree whereof is to to write omnia per omnia ; which
is undoubtedly possible with a proportion quincuple
at most, of the writing infolding, to the writing in-
folded, and no other restraint whatsoever. This art
of ciphering hath for relative an art of deciphering,
by supposition unprofitable, but as things are, of
great use. For suppose that ciphers were well
managed, there be multitudes of them which ex-
clude the decipherer. But in regard of the rawness
and unskilfulness of the hands through which they
pass, the greatest matters are many times carried in
the weakest ciphers.

In the enumeration of these private and retired
arts, it may be thought I seek to make a great, mus-
ter-roll of sciences, naming them for shew and osten-
tation, and to little other purpose. But let those
which are skilful in them judge, whether I bring
them in only for appearance, or whether in that
which I speak of them, though in few words, there
be not some seed of proficience. And this must be
remembered, that as there be many of great account
in their countries and provinces, which when they
come up to the seat of the estate, are but of mean
rank, and scarcely regarded ; so these arts being here
placed with the principal and supreme sciences, seem
petty things; yet to such as have chosen them to
spend their labours and studies in them, they seem
great matters.

For the method of tradition, I see it hath moved a
controversy in our time. But as in civil business, if
there be a meeting, and men fall at words, there is

VOL. i. L

150 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

commonly an end of the matter for that time, and no
proceeding at all : so in learning, where there is
much controversy, there is many times little in-
quiry. For this part of knowledge of method seemeth
to me so weakly inquired, as I shall report it de-
ficient.

Method hath been placed, and that not amiss, in
logic, as a part of judgment; for as the doctrine of
syllogisms comprehendeth the rules of judgment upon
that which is invented, so the doctrine of method
containeth the rules of judgment upon that which is
to be delivered ; for judgment precedeth delivery, as
it followeth invention. Neither is the method or the
nature of the tradition material only to the use of
knowledge, but likewise to the progression of know-
ledge : for since the labour and life of one man can-
not attain to perfection of knowledge, the wisdom
of the tradition is that which inspirerh the felicity of
continuance and proceeding. And therefore the most
real diversity of method, is of method referred to use,
and method referred to progression, whereof the one
may be termed magisterial, and the other of proba-
tion.

The latter whereof seemeth to be via deserta ct in-
terclusa. For as knowledges are now delivered, there
is a kind of contract of error, between the deliverer
and the receiver ; for he that delivereth knowledge,
clesireth to deliver it in such form as may be best be-
lieved, and not as may be best examined : and he
that receiveth knowledge, desireth rather present
satisfaction, than expectant inquiry ; and so rather
not to doubt, than not to err; glory making the au-
thor not to lay open his weakness, and sloth making
the disciple not to know his strength.

But knowledge, that is delivered as a thread to be
spun on, ought to be delivered and intimated, if it
were possible, in the same method wherein it was
invented, and so is it possible of knowledge in-
duced. But in this same anticipated and prevented
knowledge, no man knoweth how he came to the,
knowledge which he hath obtained. But yet never-

.

Book II.] Of Ike Advancement of Learning.

theless, secundum mo jus et minus 9 a man may revisit
and descend unto the foundations of his knowledge
and consent ; and so transplant it into another, as it
grew in his own mind. For it is in knowledges, as
it is in plants, if you mean to use the plant, it is no
matter for the roots; but if you mean to remove it to
grow, then it is more assured to rest upon roots than
slips : so the delivery of knowledges, as it is now
used, is as of fair bodies of trees without the roots ;
good for the carpenter, but not for the planter. But De metho-
if you will have sciences grow, it is less matter for do sine-era,
the shaft or body of the tree, so you look well to the fi'nos^ci-
taking up of the roots: of which kind of delivery the entiarum.
method of the mathematics, in that subject, hath
some shadow ; but generally I see it neither put in
use nor put in inquisition, and therefore note it for
deficient.

Another diversity of method there is, which hath
some affinity with the former, used in some cases by
the discretion of the ancients, but disgraced since by
the impostures of many vain persons, who have made
it as a false light for their counterfeit merchandises;
and that is, enigmatical and disclosed. The pretence
whereof is to remove the vulgar capacities from be-
ing admitted to the secrets of knowledges, and to
reserve them to selected auditors, or wits of such
sharpness as can pierce the veil.

Another diversity of method, whereof the conse-
quence is great, is the delivery of knowledge in
aphorisms, or in methods ; wherein we may observe,
that it hath been too much taken into custom, out of
a few axioms or observations upon any subject to
make a solemn and formal art, rilling it with some
discourses, and illustrating it with examples, and
digesting it into a sensible method ; but the writing
in aphorisms hath many excellent virtues, whereto .
the writing in method doth not approach.

For first it trieth the writer, whether he be super-
ficial or solid : for aphorisms, except they should be
ridiculous, cannot be made but of the pith and heart
of sciences ; for, discourse of illustration is cut off,

L 2

152 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

recitals of examples are cut off; discourse of con-
nection and order is cut off; descriptions of practice
are cut off; so there remaineth nothing to fill the
aphorisms, but some good quantity of observation :
and therefore no man can suffice, nor in reason will
attempt to write aphorisms, but he that is sound and
grounded. But in methods,

Tantnm series juncluraque pallet,
Tantum de media sumptis accedit honoris ;
as a man shall make a great shew of an art, which if
it were disjointed, would come to little. Secondly,
methods are more fit to win consent or belief; but
less fit to point to action ; for they carry a kind of
demonstration in orb or circle, one part illuminating
another, and therefore satisfy. But particulars being dis-
persed, do best agree with dispersed directions. And
lastly, aphorisms, representing a knowledge broken,
do invite men to inquire farther; whereas methods
carrying the shew of a total, do secure men as if they
were at farthest.

Another diversity of method, which is likewise of
great weight, is, the handling of knowledge by as-
sertions, and their proofs ; or by questions, and their
determinations ; the latter kind whereof, if it be im-
moderately followed, is as prejudicial to the pro-
ceeding of learning, as it is to the proceeding of an
army to go about to besiege every little fort or hold.
For if the field be kept, and the sum of the enter-
prise pursued, , those smaller things will come in of
themselves; indeed a man would not leave some im-
portant place with an enemy at his back. In like
manner, the use of confutation in the delivery of
sciences ought to be very sparing ; and to serve to
remove strong preoccupations and prejudgments, and
not to minister and excite disputations and doubts.

Another diversity of method is according to the
subject or matter which is handled ; for there is a
great difference in the delivery of the mathematics,
which are the most abstracted of knowledges, and
policy, which is the most immersed ; and howsoever,
contention hath been moved, touching an uniformity

I

ook II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 153

of method in multiformity of matter ; yet we see how
that opinion, besides the weakness of it, hath been
of ill desert towards learning, as that which taketh
the way to reduce learning to certain empty and
barren generalities; being but the very husks and
shells of sciences, all the kernel being forced out and
expulsed with the torture and press of the method :
and therefore as I did allow well of particular topics
for invention, so do I allow likewise of particular
methods of tradition.

Another diversity of judgment in the delivery and
teaching of knowledge, is according unto the light
and presuppositions of that which is delivered ; for
.that knowledge which is new and foreign from opi-
nions received, is to be delivered in another form
than that that is agreeable and familiar ; and there-
fore Aristotle, when he thinks to tax Democritus,
doth in truth commend him, where he saith, " If we
*c shall indeed dispute, and not follow after simili-
<e tudes," etc. For those, whose conceits are seated in
popular opinions, need only but to prove or dispute :
but those whose conceits are beyond popular opi-
nions, have a double labour ; the one to make them-
selves conceived, and the other to prove and demon-
strate : so that it is of necessity with them to have re-
course to similitudes and translations to express them-
selves. And therefore in the infancy of learning,
and in rude times, when those conceits which are now
trivial were then new, the world was full of parables
and similitudes; for else would men either have passed
over without mark, or else rejected for paradoxes that
which was offered, before they had understood or
judged. So in divine learning, we see how frequent
parables and tropes are : for it is a rule, " That
f whatsoever science is not consonant to presuppo-
" sitions, must pray in aid of similitudes.'*

There be also other diversities of methods vulgar
and received : as that of resolution or analysis > of
constitution or systasis, of concealment or cryptic, etc.
which I do allow well of, though I have stood upon
those which are least handled and observed. All

Of -the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.
Dep.ru- which I have remembered to this purpose, because I

ttentia tra- * . ...

would erect and constitute one general inquiry, which
seems to me deficient touching the wisdom of tra-
dition.

Bat unto this part of knowledge concerning me-
thod, doth farther belong, not only the architecture of
the whole frame of a work, but also the several beams
and columns thereof, not as to their stuff, but as to
their quantity and figure: and therefore method con-
sidereth not only the disposition of the argument or
subject, but likewise the propositions; not as to
their truth or matter, but as to their limitation and
manner. For herein Ramus merited better a great
deal in reviving the good rules of propositions, K^ScXK
•TTpurov Y.OLT& irotvToq, etc. than he did in introducing
the canker of epitomes; and yet, as it is the condi-
tion of human things, thats according to the ancient
fables, " The most precious things have the most per-
" nicious keepers:" it was so, that the attempt of
the one made him fall upon the other. For he had
need be well conducted, that should design to make
axioms convertible; if he make them not withal cir-
cular, and non promoven£, or incurring into themselves;
but yet the intention was excellent.

The other considerations of method concerning pro-
positions, are chiefly touching the utmost propositions,
which limit the dimensions of sciences ; for every
knowledge may be fitly said, besides the profundity,
which is the truth and substance of it that makes it
solid, to have a longitude and a latitude, accounting
the latitude towards other sciences, and the longitude
towards action ; that is, from the greatest generality,
to the most particular precept: The one giveth rule
how far one knowledge ought to intermeddle within
the province of another, which is the rule they call
xuQavTo : the other giveth rule, unto what degree of
particularity a knowledge should descend which lat-
ter I find passed over in silence, being in my judg-
ment the more material; for certainly there must be
somewhat left to practice; but how much is worthy
inquiry. We see remote and superficial genera-

!

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 155

lities do but offer knowledge to scorn of practical
men, and are no more aiding to practice, than an Or-
telius's universal map is to direct the way between
London and York. The better sort of rules have been DePro-
not unfitly compared to glasses of steel unpolished; <iucnone
where you may see the images of things, but first they tum.
must be filed ; so the rules will help, if they be la-
/bourcd and polished by practice. But how chrystal-
' line they may be made at the first, and how far forth
they may be polished aforehand, is the question ; the
inquiry whereof seemeth to me .deficient.

There hath been also laboured, and put in prac-
tice, a method, which is not a lawful method, but a
method of imposture, which is, to deliver know-
ledges in such manner as men may speedily come to
make a shew of learning, who have it not; such was
the travel of Raymundus Lullius in making that art,
which bears his name, not unlike to some books of
typocosmy which have been made since, being nothing
but a mass of words of all arts, to give men coun-
tenance, that those which use the terms might be
thought to understand the art; which collections are
much like a fripper's or broker's shop, that hath
ends of every thing, but nothing of worth.

Now we descend to that part which concerneth
the illustration of tradition, comprehended in that
science which we call Rhetoric, or art of eloquence ; ,
a science excellent, and excellently well laboured.
For although in true value it is inferior to wisdom, as
it is said by God to Moses, when he disabled himself
for want of this faculty, Aaron shall be thy speaker,
and tlwu shall be to him as God. Yet with people it is
the more mighty : for so Solomon saith, Sapiens corde
appellabitur prudens, sed didds doquio major a reperiet ;
signifying, that profoundness of wisdom will help a
man to a name or admiration, but that it is eloquence
that prevaileth in an active life ; and as to the labour-
ing of it, the emulation of Aristotle with the rheto-
ricians of his time, and the experience of Cicero,
hath made them in their works of rhetorics ex-
ceed themselves. Again, the excellency of examples

156 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

of eloquence in the orations of Demosthenes and
Cicero, added to the perfection of the precepts of
eloquence, hath doubled the progression in this art:
and therefore the deficiences which I shall note, will
rather be in some collections, which may as hand-
maids attend the art, than in the rules or use of the
art itself.

Notwithstanding, to stir the earth a little about the
roots of this science, as we have done of the rest ; the
duty and office of rhetoric is to apply reason to ima-
gination for the better moving of the will : for we
see reason is disturbed in the administration thereof
by three means; by illaqueation or sophism, which
pertains to logic; by imagination or impression,
which pertains to rhetoric ; and by passion or affec-
tion, which pertains to morality. And as in nego-
tiation with others, men are wrought by cunning, by
importunity, and byvehemency; so in this negocia-
tion within ourselves, men are undetermined by in-
consequences, solicited and importuned by impres-
sions or observations, and transported by passions.
Neither is the nature of man so unfortunately built,
as that those powers and arts should have force to
disturb reason, and not to establish and advance it;
for the end of logic is to teach a form of argument to
secure reason, and not to intrap it. The end of
morality, is to procure the affections to obey reason,
and not to invade if. The end of rhetoric, is to fill
the imagination to second reason, and not to oppress
it ; for these abuses of arts come in but ex obliquo for
caution.

And therefore it was great injustice in Plato, though,
springing out of a just hatred of the rhetoricians
of his time, to esteem of rhetoric but as a volup^
tuary. art, resembling it to cookery, that did mar
\vholesome meats, and help unwholesome by variety
of sauces, to the pleasure of the taste. For we see
that speech is much more conversant in adorning
that which is goods than in colouring that which is
evil; for there is no man but speaketh more honestly
than he can do or think ; and it was excellently noted

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 57

by Thucydides in Cleon, that because he used to
hold on the bad side in causes of estate, therefore he
was ever inveighing against eloquence and good
speech, knowing that no man can speak fair of
courses sordid and base. And therefore as Plato said
elegantly, " That Virtue, if she could be seen, would
*( move great love and affection :" so seeing that she
cannot be shewed to the sense by corporal shape, the
next degree is, to shew her to the imagination in
lively representation: for to shew her to reason only
in subtilty of argument, was a thing ever derided in
Chrysippus, and many of the Stoics, who thought to
thrust virtue upon men by sharp disputations and con-
clusions, which have no sympathy with the will of
man.

Again,' if th6 affections in themselves were pliant
and obedient to reason, it were true, there thould be
no great use of persuasions and insinuations to the
will, more than of naked proposition and proofs :
but in regard of the continual mutinies and seditions
of the affections, ^.^ ^.^ proboqHe,
Deteriora sequor ;

Reason would become captive and servile, if elo-
quence of persuasions did not practise and win the
imagination from the affections part, and contract a
confederacy between the reason and imagination
against the affections ; for the affections themselves
carry ever an appetite to good, as reason doth. The
difference is, that the affection beholdeth merely the
present, reason beholdeth the future and sum of time.
And therefore the present filling the imagination
more, reason is commonly vanquished ; but after that
force of eloquence and persuasion hath made things
future and remote appear as present, then upon revolt
of the imagination reason prevaileth.

We conclude therefore, that rhetoric can be no
more charged with the colouring of the worst part,
than logic with sophistry, or morality with vice. For
we know the doctrines of contraries are the same,
though the use be opposite. It appeareth also, that

158 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

logic differeth from rhetoric, not only as the fist from
the palm, the one close, the other at large ; but much
more in this, that logic handleth reason exact, and in
truth 5 and rhetoric handleth it as it is planted in
popular opinions and manners. And therefore Ari-
stotle doth wisely place rhetoric as between logic on
the one side, and moral or civil knowledge on the
other, as participating of both : for the proofs and de-
monstrations of logic are toward all men indifferent
and the same : but the proofs and persuasions of
rhetoric ought to differ according to the auditors :

Orpheus in sylvis, inter delpkinas Arion.
Which application, in perfection of idea, ought to
extend so far, that if a man should speak of the same
thing to several persons, he should speak to them
all respectively, and several ways : though this politic
part of eloquence in private speech, it is easy for
De pru.- tne greatest orators to want ; whilst by the observing

demia ser- «•*?,, , r r . J , , P

monis pri- their well graced forms or speech, they lose the

vatu volubility of application : and therefore it shall not

bs amiss to recommend this to better inquiry, not

being curious whether we place it here, or in that

part which concerneth policy.

Coiores Now therefore will I descend to the deficiences,

ro°aH,Csim- which, as I said, are but attendances : and first, I

piicis ct ^0 not find the wisdom and diligence of Aristotle

well pursued, who began to make a collection of the

popular signs and colours of good and evil, both

simple and comparative, which are as the sophisms

of rhetoric, as I touched before. For example;

SOPHISMA.
Quod laudatur, bonum : quod viluperatur, malum.

REDARGUTIO.

Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces.
Malum est, malum esty inquit cmpfors sed aim recesse-

rit, turn gloriabitur.

The defects in the labour of Aristotle are three ;
one, that there be but a few of many ; another, that
their clenchus's are not annexed ; and the third, that
he conceived but a part of the use of them : for their
use is not only in probation, but much more in im-

ook II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

pression. For many forms are equal in signification,
which are differing in inipression ; as the difference
is great in the piercing of that which is sharp, and
that which is flat, though the strength of the percus-
sion be the same : for there is no man but will be
a little more raised by hearing it said , " Your ene*
" mies will be glad of this;"

Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridcc ;
than by hearing it said only, " This is evil for you."

Secondly, I do resume also that which I mentioned
before, touching provision or preparatory store, for
the furniture of speech and readiness of invention,
which appeareth to be of two sorts ; the one in re-
semblance to a shop of pieces unmade up, the other
to a shop of things ready made up, both to be ap-
plied to that which is frequent and most in request:
the former of these I will call antitheta, and the latter
formula.

Antithcta are theses argued pro et contra, wherein Antitheta
men may be more large and laborious ; but in such rerum-
as are able to do it, to avoid prolixity of entry, I wish
the seeds of the several arguments to be cast up into
some brief and acute sentences, not to be cited, but
to be as scanes or bottoms of thread, to be un wind-
ed at large when they come to be used ; supplying
authorities and examples by reference.

PRO VERBIS LEGIS.

Won est interpretation sed divinatio, qua recedit a liter a.
Cum receditur a literajudex transit in legislatorem.
PRO SENTENTIA LEGIS.

Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensiis, qui interpretatur

singula.

FormuLe are but decent and apt passages or con-
veyances of speech, which may serve indifferently for
differing subjects ; as of preface, conclusion, digres-
sion, transition, excusation, etc. For as in buildings
there is great pleasure and use in the well-casting of
the stair-cases, entries, doors, windows, and the like ;
§o in speech, the conveyances and passages are of
special ornament and effect.

1 60 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

A CONCLUSION IN A DELIBERATIVE.
So may we redeem the faults passed) and prevent the in*
conveniences future.

There remain two appendices touching the tradition
of knowledge, the one critical, the other pedantical ;
for all knowledge is either delivered by teachers, or
attained by men's proper endeavours : and therefore as
the principal part of tradition of knowledge con-
cerneth chiefly writing of books, so the relative part
thereof concerneth reading of books : whereunto ap-
pertain incidently these considerations. The first is
concerning the true correction and edition of authors,
wherein nevertheless rash diligence hath done great
prejudice. For these critics have often presumed
that that which they understood not, is false set
down. As the priest, that where he found it written
of St. Paul, Demissus est per sport am, mended his
book, and made it Demissus est per portam, because
sporta was an hard word, and out of his reading : and
surely these errors, though they be not so palpable
and ridiculous, are yet of the same kind. And there-
fore as it hath been wisely noted, the most corrected
copies are commonly the least correct.

Tne second is concerning the exposition and ex-
plication of authors, which resteth in annotations and
commentaries, wrherein it is over usual to blanch the
obscure places, and discourse upon the plain.

The third is concerning the times, which in many
cases give great light to true interpretations.

The fourth is concerning some 'brief censure and
judgment of the authors, that men thereby may make
some election unto themselves what books to read.

And the fifth is concerning the syntax and disposi-
tion of studies, that men may know in what order or
pursuit to read.

For pedantical knowledge, it containeth that dif-
ference of tradition which is proper for youth, where-
unto appertain divers considerations of great fruit.

As first the timing and seasoning of knowledges ;
as with what to initiate them, and from what for a
time to refrain them.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

Secondly, the consideration where to. begin with
the easiest, and so proceed to the more difficult, and
in what, courses to press the more difficult, and then
to turn them to the more easy ; for it is one me-
thod to practice swimming with bladders, and ano-
ther to practise dancing with heavy shoes.

A third is the application of learning according
unto the propriety of the wits ; for there is no defect
in the faculties intellectual but seemeth to have a
proper cure contained in some studies: as for ex-
ample, if a child be bird-witted, that is, hath not
the faculty of attention, the mathematics giveth a re-
medy thereunto, for in them, if the wit be caught
away but a moment, one is to begin anew : and as
sciences have a propriety towards faculties for cure
and help, so faculties or powers have a sympathy
towards sciences for excellency or speedy profiting;
and therefore it is an inquiry , of great wisdom what
kinds of wits and natures are most proper for what
sciences.

Fourthly, the ordering of exercises is matter of
great consequence to hurt or help : for, as is well ob-
served by Cicero, men in exercising their faculties,-
if they be not well advised, do exercise their faults,
and get ill habits as well as good ; so there is a great
judgment to be had in the continuance and inter-
mission of exercises. It were too long to particu-
larize a number of other considerations of this nature ;.
things but of mean appearance, but of singular effi-
cacy : for as the wronging or cherishing of seeds or
young plants, is that that is most important to their
thriving; and as it was noted, that the first six kings,,
being in truth as tutors of the state of Rome in the
infancy thereof, was the principal cause of the im-
mense greatness of that state which followed; so the
culture and manurance of minds in youth hath such
a forcible, though unseen, operation, as hardly any
length of time or contention of labour can counter-
vail it afterwards. And it is not amiss to observe
also, how small and mean faculties gotten by educa-
tion, yet when they fall, into great men or great

162 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II,

matters, do work great and important effects ; where-
of we see a notable example in Tacitus, of two
stage players, Percennius and Vibulenus, who by
their faculty of playing put the Pannonian armies into
an extreme tumult and combustion j for there arising
a mutiny amongst them, upon the death of Augustus
Gaesar, Blassus the lieutenant had committed some of
the mutineers, which were suddenly rescued; where*
upon Vibulenus got to be heard speak, which he did
in this manner : " These poor innocent wretches
" appointed to cruel death, you have restored to
cc behold the light: but who shall restore my brother
" to me, or life unto my brother, that was sent hither
" in message from the regions of Germany, to treat
" of the common cause ? And he hath murdered
" him this last night by some of his fencers and
<c ruffians, that he hath about him for his execution-
" ers upon soldiers. Answer, Blassus, what is done
" with his body ? The mortalest enemies do not
" deny burial ; when I have performed my last
" duties to the corpse with kisses, with tears, com-
" mand me to be slain besides him, so that these my
" fellows, for our good meaning, and our true hearts
<e to the legions, may have leave to bury us." With
which speech he put the army into an infinite fury
and uproar ; whereas truth was he had no brother,
neither was there any such matter, but he played it
merely as if he had been upon the stage.

But to return, we are now come to a period of
rational knowledges, wherein if I have made the di-
visions other than those that are received, yet would
I not be thought to disallow all those divisions which
I do not use ; for there is a double necessity imposed
upon me of altering the divisions. The one, because
it differeth in end and purpose, to sort together those
things which are next in nature, and those things
which are next in use -, -for if a secretary of state
should sort his papers, it is like in his study, or
general cabinet, he would sort together things of a
nature, as treaties, instructions, etc. but in his boxes,
or particular cabinet, he would sort together. those

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 163

that he were like to use together, though of several
natures ; so in this general cabinet of knowledge it
was necessary for me to follow the divisions of the
nature of things ; whereas if myself had been to
handle any particular knowledge, I would have re-
spected the divisions fittest for use. The other, be-
cause the bringing in of the deficiences did by con-
sequence alter the partitions of the rest ; for let the
knowledge extant, for demonstration sake, be fifteen,
let the knowledge with the deficiences be twenty,
the parts of fifteen are not the parts of twenty, for
the parts of fifteen are three and five, the parts of
twenty are two, four, five and ten ; so as these
things are without contradiction, and could not other-
wise be.

WE proceed now to that knowledge which con-
sidereth of the Appetite and Will of Man, whereof
Solomon saith, Ante omnia, jili, custodi cor tuum, nam
vide procedunt actiones vitce. In the handling of this
science, those which have written seem to me to
have done as if a man that professeth to teach to
write, did only exhibit fair copies of alphabets, and
letters joined, without giving any precepts or di-
rections for the carriage of the hand and framing of
the letters ; so have they made good and fair exem-.
plars and copies, carrying the draughts and portraitures
of good, virtue, duty, felicity ; propounding them
well described as the true objects and scopes of man's
will and desires ; but how to attain these excellent
marks, and how to frame and subdue the will of man
to become true and conformable to these pursuits,
they pass it over altogether, or slightly and un-
profitably; for it is not the disputing that moral vir-
tues are in the mind of man by habit and not by
nature, or the distinguishing that generous spirits are
won by doctrines and persuasions, and the vulgar
sort by reward and punishment, and the like scattered
glances and touches, that can excuse the absence of
this part.

The reason of this omission I suppose to be that

16 f Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

hidden rock whereupon both this and many other
barks of knowledge have been cast away ; which is,
that men have despised to be conversant in ordinary
and common matters, the judicious direction whereof
nevertheless is the wisest doctrine, for life consisteth
not in novelties nor subtilities, but contrariwise they
have compounded sciences chiefly of a certain re-
splendent or lustrous mass qf matter, chosen to give
glory either to the subtility of disputations, or to the
eloquence of discourses. But Seneca giveth an ex-
cellent check to eloquence : Nocet illis eloquentia,
quilmsnon rernm cupiditatem facet, sedsui. Doctrine
should be such as should make men in love with their
lesson, and not with the teacher, being directed to the
auditor's benefit, and not to the author's commenda-
tion -3 and therefore those are of the right kind which
may be concluded as Demosthenes concludes his
counsel, Qua? si feceritis, non oratorem duntaxat in
present ia laudabitisy sed vosmetipsos etiam, non ita
multo post statn renun veslrarum meliore. Neither
needed men of so excellent parts to have despaired of
a fortune, which the poet Virgil promised himself,
and indeed obtained, who got as much glory of elo-
quence, wit, and learning in the expressing of the
observations of husbandry, as of the heroical acts of
,/Eneas :

Nee sum animi dubius, verbis ca vincere magnum
Quam sit, et angustis hunc addere rebus honorem.

Georg. iii. 28.9.

And surely if the purpose be in good earnest not
to write at leisure that which men may read at lei-
sure, but really to instruct and suborn action and
active life, these georgics of the mind concerning the
husbandry and tillage thereof, are no less worthy
than the heroical descriptions of virtue, duty, and
felicity. Wherefore the main and primitive division
of moral knowledge seemeth to be into the Exemplar
or Platform of Good, and the Regiment or Culture
of the Mind ; the one describing the nature of good,
the other prescribing rules how to subdue, apply, and
accommodate the will of man thereunto.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 165

The doctrine touching the Platform or Nature of
Good considercth it either simple or compared, either
the kinds of good, or the degrees of good ; in the
latter whereof those infinite disputations which were
touching the supreme degree thereof, which they
term felicity, beatitude, or the highest good, the
doctrines concerning which were as the heathen di*
vinity, are by the Christian faith discharged. And,
as Aristotle saith, f- That young men may be happy,
" but not otherwise but by hope 3" so we must all
acknowledge our minority, and embrace the felicity
which is by hope of the future world.

Freed therefore, and delivered from this doctrine
of the philosophers heaven, whereby they feigned
an higher elevation of man's nature than was, for we
see in what an height of stile Seneca writeth, Vere
magnum, habcre fragilitatem hominis, securitatem Deiy
we may with more sobriety and truth receive the rest
of their inquiries and labours; wherein for the nature
of goodj positive or simple, they have set it down
excellently, in describing the forms of virtue and
duty with their situations and postures, in distributing
them into their kinds, parts> provinces, actions, and
administrations, and the like : nay farther they have
commended them to man's nature and spirit, with
great quickness of argument and beauty of persua-
sions 3 yea, and fortified and intrenched them, -as
much as discourse can do, against corrupt and po-
pular opinions. Again, for the degrees and com-
parative nature of good, they have also excellently
handled it in their triplicity of good, in the comparison
between a contemplative and an active life, in the
distinction between virtue with reluctation, and virtue
secured, in their encounters between honesty and
profit, in their balancing of virtue with virtue, and
the like 3 so as this part deserveth to be reported for
excellently laboured.

Notwithstanding, if before they had come to the
popular and received notions of virtue and vice, plea-
sure and pain, and the rest, they had stayed a little
longer upon the inquiry concerning the roots of good

VOL. i. M

16$ Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IT.

and evil, and the strings of those roots, they had
given, in my opinion, a great light to that which
followed ; and especially if they had consulted with
nature, they had made their doctrines less prolix and
more profound: which being by them in part omitted
and in part handled with much confusion, we will
endeavour to resume and open in a more clear manner.
There is formed in every thing a double nature of
good, the one as every thing is a total or substantive in
itself, the other as it is a part or member of a greater
body; whereof the latter is in degree the greater and
the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation of
a more general form : therefore we see the iron in par-
ticular sympathy moveth to the loadstone, but yet if it
exceed a certain quantity, it forsaketh the affection to
the loadstone, and like a good patriot moveth to the
earth which is the region and country of massy bodies;
so may we go forward and see that water and massy
bodies move to the centre of the earth, but rather than
to suffer a divulsion in the continuance of nature
they will move upwards from the centre of the earth,
forsaking their duty to the earth in regard of their duty
to the world. This double nature of good and the
comparative thereof is much more engraven upon
man, if he degenerate not, unto whom the conservation
of duty to the public ought to be much more pre-
cious than the conservation ot life and being ; ac-
cording to that memorable speech of Pompeius Magf
nus, when being in commission of purveyance fora
famine at Rome, and being dissuaded with great ve-
hemency and instance by his friends about him, that
he should not hazard himself to sea in an extremity
of wreather, he said only to them Necesse est ut eam>
non ut vlvam: but it may be truly affirmed that there
was never any philosophy, religion, or other disci-
pline, which did so plainly and highly exalt the good
which is communicative, and depress the good which
is private and particular, as the holy faith: well de-
claring, that it \yas the same God that gave the Chris-
tian law to men, who- gave, those laws of nature .to
inanimate creatureb tl^at, we spake of before ; for we.

,

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

read that the elected saints of God have wished
themselves anathematized and razed out of the book
of life, in an extasy of charity, and infinite feeling
of communion.

This being set down and strongly planted, doth
judge and determine most of the controversies wherein
moral philosophy is conversant. For first, it decideth
the question touching the preferment of the con-
templative or active life, and decideth it against Ari-
stotle : for all the reasons which he bringeth for the
contemplative, are private, and respecting the pleasure
and dignity of a man's self, in which respects, no ques-
tion, the contemplative life hath the pre-eminence ;
not much unlike to that comparison, which Pytha-
goras made for the gracing and magnifying of philo-
sophy and contemplation; who being asked what he
was, answered, " That if Hiero were ever at the
" Olympian games, he knew the manner, that some
*c came to try their fortune for the prizes, and some
" came as merchants to utter their commodities, and
<f some came to make good cheer and meet their
" friends, and some came to look on, and that he
" was one of them that came to look on.*' But men
must know, that in this theatre of man's life, it is re-
served only for God and angels to be lookers on :
neither could the like question ever have been re-
ceived in the church, notwithstanding their Pretiosa
in oculis Domini mors sanctorum ejus ; by which place
they would exalt their civil death and regular pro-
fessions, but upon this defence, that the monastical life
is not simply contemplative, but performeth the duty
either of incessant prayers and supplications, which
hath been truly esteemed as an office in the church, or
else of writing or taking instructions for writing con-
cerning the law of God ; as Moses did when he
abode so long in the mount. And so we see Enoch
the seventh from Adam, who was the first contem-
plative, and walked with God; yet did also endow
the church with prophecy, which St. Jude .citelh.
But for contemplation which should be- finished in

M 2

168 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

itself, without casting beams upon society, assuredly
divinity knoweth it not*

It decideth also the controversies between Zeno
and Socrates, and their schools and successions on
the one side, who placed felicity in virtue simply
or attended; the actions and exercises whereof do
chiefly embrace and concern society; and on the
other side, the Cyreniacs and Epicureans, who placed
it in pleasure, and made virtue, as it is used in some
comedies of errors, wherein the mistress and the
maid change habits, to be but as a servant, without
which pleasure cannot be served and attended : and
the reformed school of the Epicureans, which placed
it in serenityof mind and freedom from perturbation ;
as if they would have deposed Jupiter again, and
restored Saturn and the first age, when there was no
summer nor winter, spring nor autumn, but all after
one air and season; and Herillus, who placed felicity
in extinguishment of the disputes of the mind, mak-
ing no fixed nature of good and evil, esteeming
things according to the clearness of the desires, or
the reluctation ; which opinion was revived in the
heresy of the Anabaptists, measuring things according-
to the motions of the spirit, and the constancy or
wavering of belief: all which arc manifest to tend
to private repose and contentment, and not to point
of society.

% It censureth also the philosophy of Epictetus,
which presupposeth that felicity must be placed in
those things which are in our power, lest we be
liable to fortune and disturbance; as if it were not a
thing much more happy to fail in good and virtuous
ends for the public, than to obtain all that we can
wish to ourselves in our proper fortune ; as Consalvo
said to his soldiers, shewing them Naples, and pro-
testing, " He had rather die one foot forwards, than
" to have his life secured for long, by one foot of re-
<c trent." Whereunto the wisdom of that heavenly
leader hath signed, who hath affirmed that a good
conscience is a continual feast , shewing plainly, that
the conscience of good intentions, howsoever sue-

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

ceeding, is a more continual joy to nature, than
all the provision which can be made for security and
repose.

It censureth likewise that abuse of philosophy,
which grew general about the time of Epictetus, in
converting it into an occupation or profession ; as
if the purpose had been not to resist and extin-
guish perturbations, but to fly and avoid the causes
of them, and to shape a particular kind and course
of life to that end, introducing such an health of
mind, as was that health of body, of which Ari-
stotle speaketh of Herodicus, who did nothing all
his life long but intend his health: whereas if
men refer themselves to duties of society, as that
health of body is best, which is ablest to endure all
alterations and extremities; so likewise that health
of mind is most proper, which can go through the
greatest temptations and perturbations. So as Dio-
genes's opinion is to be accepted, who commended
not them which abstained, but them which sustained,
.and could refrain their mind inpr&cipitw^ and could
give unto the mind, as is used in horsemanship, the
shortest stop or turn.

Lastly, it censureth the tenderness and want of
application in some of the most ancient and reverend
philosophers and philosophical men, that did retire too
easily from civil business, for avoiding of indignities
and perturbations; whereas the resolution of men
truly moral, ought to be such as the same Consalvo
said the honor of a soldier should be, £ tda crassiore,
and not so fine, as that every thing should catch in
it and endanger it.

To resume private or particular good, it fallcth
into the division of good active and passive: for this
difference of good, not unlike to that which amongst
the Romans was expressed in the familiar or houshold
terms of Promus and Condus, is formed also in all
things, and is best disclosed in the two several appetites
in creatures; the one to preserve or continue them-
selves, and the other to dilate or multiply themselves;
whereof the latter seemeth to be the worthier; for

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

in nature the heavens, which are more worthy, are the
agent ; and the earth, which is the less worthy, is
the patient : in the pleasures of living creatures, that
of generation is greater than that of food : in divine
doctrine, Beathts est dare, quam accipere : and in life
there is no man's spirit so soft, but esteemeth the
effecting of somewhat that he hath fixed in his desire,
more than sensuality. Which priority of the active
good is much upheld by the consideration of our estate
to be mortal and exposed to fortune : for if we
might have a perpetuity and certainty in our plea-
sures, the state of them would advance their price ;
but when we see it is but Magni astimamus mori tar-*
dius, and Ne glorieris de crastino, nesds partum diet,
it maketh us to desire to have somewhat secured and
exempted from time, which are only our deeds and
works ; as it is said Opera eorum sequuntur eos. The
preeminence likewise of this active good is upheld
by the affection which is natural in man towards
variety and proceeding, which in the pleasures of the
sense, which is the principal part of passive good,
can have no great latitude. Cogita quamdiu eadem
feceris ; cibus, somnus, Indus per kunc circulum cum-
tur ; mori velle non tantum fortis, aut miser, aut pru-
dens, sedetiamfastidiosuspotest. But in enterprises,
pursuits, and purposes of life, there is much variety,
whereof men are sensible with pleasure in their in-
ceptions, progressions, recoils, re-integrations, ap-
p'roaches and attainings to their ends. So as it was
well said, Vita sine proposito languida et vaga est.
Neither hath this active good any identity with the
good of society, though in some case it hath an in-
cidence into it : for although it do many times bring
forth acts of beneficence, yet it is with a respect
private to a man's own power, glory, amplification,
continuance ; as appeareth plainly, when it findeth
a contrary subject, For that gigantine state of mind
which possesseth the troublers of the world, such as
was Lucius Sylla, and infinite other in smaller model,
who would have all men happy or unhappy as they
were their friends or enemies, and would give form

Book

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 17 j

to the world according to their own humours, which
is the true theomachy, pretendeth and aspireth to
active good, though it recedeth farthest from good of
society, which we have determined to be the greater.
To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision
of conservative and perfective. For let us take a
brief review of that which we have said; we have
spoken first of the good of society,, the intention
whereof embraceth the form of human nature, whereof
we are members and portions, and not our own pro*
per and individual form; we have spoken of active
good, and supposed it as a part of private and parti-
cular good. And rightly, for there is impressed upon
all things a triple desire or appetite proceeding from
love to themselves; one of preserving and continuing
their form ; another of advancing and perfecting their
form ; and a third of multiplying and extending their
form upon other things ; whereof the multiplying or
signature of it upon other things, is that which we
handled by the name of active good. So as there re-
maineth the conserving of it, and perfecting or raising
of it; which latter is the highest degree of passive
good,. For to preserve iri state is the less, to preserve
with advancement is the greater. So in man,

Igneus est ollis vigor, et easiest is origo.
His approach or assumption to divine or angelical na-
ture is the perfection of his form ; the error or false
imitation of which good, is that which is the tempest
of human life, while man, upon the instinct of an
advancement formal and essential, is carried to seek
an advancement local* For as those which are sick,
and rind no remedy, do tumble up and down and
change place, as if by a remove local they could
obtain a remove internal : so is it with men in am-
bition, when failing of the means to exalt their na-
ture, they are in a perpetual estuation to exalt their
place. So then passive good is, as was said, either
conservative or perfective.

To resume the good of conservation or comfort,
which consisteth in the fruition of that which is agree*
able to our natures ; it seemcth to be the most pure

172 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book 1 1,

and natural of pleasures, but yet the softest and the
lowest. And this also receiveth a difference, which
hath neither been well judged of, nor well inquired.
For the good of fruition or contentment, is placed
either in the sincereness of the fruition, or in the
quickness and vigour of it : the one superinduced by
equality, the other by vicissitude ; the one having less
mixture of evil, the other more impression of good.
Whether of these is the greater good, is a question
controverted ; but whether man's nature may not be
capable of both, is a question not inquired.

The former question being debated between So*
crates and a sophist, Socrates placing felicity in an
equal and constant peace of mind, and the sophist in
much desiring and much enjoying, they fell from ar-
gument to ill words : the sophist saying that So-
crates's felicity was the felicity of a block or stone ;
and Socrates saying that the sophist's felicity was the
felicity of one that had the itch, who did nothing but
itch and scratch. And both these opinions do not
want their supports: for the opinion of Socrates is
much upheld by the general consent even of the Kpi-
curcs themselves, that virtue beareth a great part in
felicity : and if so, certain it is, that virtue hath more
use in clearing perturbations, than in compassing
desires. The sophist's opinion is much favoured by
the assertion we last spake of, that good of advance-
ment is greater than good of simple preservation ; be-
cause every obtaining a desire hath a shew of advance-
ment, as motion though in a circle hath a shew of
progression.

But the second question decided the true way
maketh the former superfluous : for can it be doubted
but that there are some who take more pleasure in
enjoying pleasures, than some other, and yet never*
theless arc less troubled with the loss or leaving of
them: so as this same, Non uti, nt non appetas ; non
appetere, ut non metuas ; sunt animi pusilli et diffident is.
And it seemeth to me that most of the doctrines of
the philosophers are more fearful and cautionary than
the nature of things requireth : so have they increased

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

the fear of death in offering to cure it : for when
they would have a man's whole life to be but a disci-
pline or preparation to die, they must needs make
men think that it is a terrible enemy against whom
there is no end of preparing. Better saith the poet,

Quijinem vitte cxtremum inter miniera ponat

Natune : -

So have they sought to make mens minds too uniform
and harmonica!, by not breaking them sufficiently to
contrary motions : the reason whereof I suppose to
be, because they themselves were men dedicated to a
private, free, and unapplied course of life. For as we
see, upon the lute or like instrument, a ground, though
it be sweet and have shew of many changes, yet
breaketh not the hand to such strange and hard stops
and passages, as a set song or voluntary : much after
the same manner was the diversity between a philo-
sophical and a civil life. And therefore men are to
imitate the wisdom of jewellers, who if there be a
grain, or a cloud, or an ice which may be ground
forth without taking too much of the stone, they help
it ; but if it should lessen and abate the stone too
much, they will not meddle with it; so ought men so
to procure serenity, as they destroy not magnanimity.

Having therefore deduced the good of man, which
is private and particular, as far as seemeth fit, we will
now return to that good of man which respecteth and
beholdeth Society, which we may term duty ; because
the term of duty is more proper to a mind well framed
and disposed towards others, as the term of virtue is
applied to a mind well formed and composed in itself;
though neither can a man understand virtue without
some relation to society, nor duty without an inward
disposition. This part may seem at first to pertain to
science civil and politic, but not if it be well ob-
served ; for it concerneth the regimen and govern-
ment of every man over himself, and not over others.
And as in architecture the direction ot the framing
the posts, beams, and other parts of building, is not
the same with the manner of joining them and erect-
ing the building ; and in mechanics, the direction

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

how to frame an instrument or engine, is not the same
with the manner of setting it on work and employing
it j and yet nevertheless in expressing of the one you
indolently express the aptness towards the other : so
t\ie doctrine of conjugation of men in society differed!
from that of their conformity thereunto.

This part of duty is subdivided into two parts ;
the common duty of every man as a man or member
of a state, the other the respective or special duty of
every man in his profession, vocation, and place. The
first of these is extant and well laboured, as hath been
said. The second likewise 1 may report rather dis-
persed, than deficient ; which manner of dispersed
writing in this kind of argument I acknowledge to
be best : for who can take upon him to write of the
proper duty, virtue, challenge, and right of every
several vocation, profession, and place? For although
sometimes a looker on may see more than a gamester,
and there be a proverb more arrogant than sound,
" That the vale best discovered! the hill;'* yet there
is small doubt but that men can write best, and most
really and materially in their own professions ; and
that the writing of speculative men of active matter,
for the most part, doth seem to men, of experience,
as Phormio's argument of the wars seemed to Han-
nibal, to be but dreams and dotage. Only there is
one vice which accompanieth them that write in their
own professions, that they magnify them in excess ;
but generally it were to be wished, as that which
would make learning indeed solid and fruitful, that
active men would or could become writers.

In which I cannot but mention, honoris cattsa, your
majesty's excellent book touching the duty of a king,
a work richly compounded of divinity, morality, and
policy, wkh great aspersion of all other arts; and
being in mine opinion one of the most sound and
healthful writings that I have read, not distempered
in the heat of invention, nor in the coldness of neg-
ligence ; not sick of business, as those are who lose
themselves in their order, nor of convulsions, as those
which cramp in matters impertinent -, not savouring

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 175

of perfumes and paintings, as those do who seek to
please the reader more than nature beareth ; and
chiefly well disposed in the spirits thereof, being-
agreeable to truth and apt for action, and far re-
moved from that natural infirmity whereunto I noted
those that write in their own professions to be sub-
ject, which is, that they exalt it above measure . for
your majesty hath truly described, not a king of
Assyria, or Persia, in their external glory, but a
Moses, or a David, pastors of their people. Neither
can I ever lose out of my remembrance, what I heard
your majesty in the same sacred spirit of government
deliver in a great cause of judicature, which was,
<c That kings ruled by their laws as God did by the
" laws of nature, and ought as rarely to put in use
*' their supreme prerogative, as God doth his power
" of working miracles." And yet notwithstanding,
in your book of a free monarchy, you do well give
men to understand, that you know the plenitude of
the power and right of a king, as well as the circle
of his office and duty. Thus have I presumed to
alledge this excellent writing of your majesty, as a
prime or eminent example of Tractates concerning
special and respective duties, wherein I should have
said as much if it had been written a thousand years
since : neither am I moved with certain courtly de-
cencies, which esteem it flattery to praise in pre-
sence ; no, it is flattery to praise in absence, that is,
when either the virtue is absent, or the occasion is
absent, and so the praise is not natural but forced,
either in truth or in time. But let Cicero be read in
his oration pro Marcello, which is nothing but an ex-
cellent table of Caesar's virtue, and. made to his face;
besides the example of many other excellent persons
wiser a great deal than such observers, and we will
never doubt, upon a full occasion, to give just praises
to present or absent.

But to return, there belongeth farther to the hand-
ling of this part, touching the duties of professions
and vocations, a relative or opposite touching the
frauds, cautels, impostures, and vices of every pro-

176 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

fession, which hath been likewise handled. But
how ? Rather in a satire and cynically, than seriously
and wisely; for men have rather sought by wit to
deride and traduce much of that which is good in
professions, than with judgment to discover and sever
that which is corrupt. For, as Solomon saith, he that
cometh to seek after knowledge with a mind to scorn
and censure, shall be sure to find matter for his hu-
mour, but no matter for his instruction : 2u&renti
Decauieiis derison scientiam, ipsa se abscondit : sed studiosa fit

et malis r . T> i r i • J •

oowam. But the managing of this argument with
integrity and truth, which I note as deficient, seemeth
to me to be one of the best fortifications for honesty
and virtue that can be planted. For, as the fable
goeth of the basilisk, that if he see you first, you die
for it; but if you see him first, he dieth: so is it
with deceits and evil arts, which, if they be first
espied, lose their life ; but if they prevent, they in-
danger. So that we are much beholden to Machiavel
and others, that write what men do, and not what
they ought to do : for it is not possible to join ser-
pentine wisdom with the columbine innocency, ex-
cept men know exactly all the conditions of the ser-
pent ; his baseness and going upon his belly, his
volubility and lubricity, his envy and sting, and the
rest; that is, all forms and natures of evil: for with-
out this, virtue lieth open and unfenced. Nay, an
honest man can do no good upon those that are
wicked, to reclaim them, without the help of the
knowledge of evil : for men of corrupted minds pre-
suppose that honesty groweth out of simplicity of
manners, and believing of preachers, schoolmasters
and mens exterior language. So as, except you can
make them perceive that you know the utmost reaches
of their own corrupt opinions, they despise all mo-
rality ; Non red pit stidtus I'crba prude ntitc, nisi ea
di.rer/s, qiuc versantur in corde ejus.

Unto this part touching respective duty doth also
appertain the duties between husband and wife,
parent and child, master and servant: so likewise the
laws "of friendship and gratitude, the civil bond of

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 77

companies, colleges and politic bodies, of neighbour-
hood, and all other proportionate duties ; not as
they are parts of government and society, but as to
the framing of the mind of particular persons.

The knowledge concerning good respecting society
doth handle it also not simply alone, but compara-
tively, whereunto belongeth the weighing of duties
between person and person, case and case, particular
and public : as we see in the proceeding of Lucius
Brutus against his own sons, which was so much ex-
tolled ; yet what was said ?

Infelix, utcunque ferent ea fata minor es.
So the case was doubtful, and had opinion on both
sides. Again, we see when M. Brutus and Cassius
invited to a supper certain whose opinions they meant
to feel, whether they were fit to be made their asso-
ciates, and cast forth the question touching the killing
of a tyrant being an usurper, they were divided in
opinion, some holding that servitude was the extreme
of evils, and others that tyranny was better than a
civil war ; and a number of the like cases there are
of comparative duty : amongst which that of all others
is the most frequent, where the question is of a great
deal of good to ensue of a small injustice, which
Jason of Thessalia determined against the truth :
Aliqua sunt injuste facienda^ ut multa juste fieri possint.
But the reply is good, Auctorem prccsentis jus tithe
habes, sponsorem futune mm habes ; men must pursue
things which are just in present, and leave the future
to the divine providence. So then we pass on from
this general part touching the exemplar and descrip-
tion of good.

Now therefore that we have spoken of this fruit of
life, it remaineth to speak of the husbandry that be-
longeth thereunto, without which part the former
seemeth to be no better than a fair image, or statua9
which is beautiful to contemplate, but is without
life and motion : whereunto Aristotle himself sub-
scribeth in these words, Necesse est scilicet de mrtnie DO cuitura
dicere, et quid sit, ct ex quibits gignatur. Inutile enim 3mml>
fere fuerity virtutem quidern nosse, acquirendtc

178 Of the Advancement (if Learning. [Book IF.

ejits modos et vias ignorare : non enim de virtnte tan-
tum, qua specie sit, qu&rendum est, sed et quomodo sui
copiam facia t ; utrumque enim volumus, et rein ipsam
nosse et ejus compotes tfieri : hoc autem ex voto non sue*
'cede-t, nisi sciamus et ex quibus et quomodo. In such
full words and with such iteration doth he inculcate
this part ; so snith Cicero in great commendation of
Cato the second, that he had applied himself to phi-
losophy, non ita disputandi causa, sed ita vivendi.
And although the neglect of our times, wherein few
men do hold any consultations touching the reforma-
tion of their life, as Seneca excellently saith, De par-
tibus vita quisque deliberat, de summa nemo, may make
this part seem superfluous; yet I must conclude with
that aphorism of Hippocrates, 2ui gravi morbo cor-
repti dolores non sentiunt, Us mens agrotat ; they need
medicine not only to assuage the disease, but to awake
the sense. And if it be said, that the cure of mens
minds belongeth to sacred divinity, it is most true :
but yet moral philosophy may be preferred unto her
as a wise servant and humble handmaid. For as the
Psalm saith, that the eyes of the handmaid look perpe-
tually towards the mistress, and yet no doubt many
things are left to the discretion of the handmaid, to
discern of the mistress's will ; so ought moral philo-
sophy to give a constant attention to the doctrines
of divinity, and yet so as it may yield of herself,
within due limits, many sound and profitable di-
rections.

This part therefore, because of the excellency
thereof, I cannot but find exceeding strange that it is
not reduced to written inquiry, the rather because it
consisteth of much matter, wherein both speech and
action is often conversant, and such wherein the
common talk of men, which is rare, but yet cometh
'sometimes to pass, is wiser than their books. It is
reasonable therefore that we propound it in the
more particularity, boih for the worthiness, and be-
*' cause we may acquit ourselves for reporting it defi-

cient, which seemeth almost incredible, and is other-
wise conceived and presupposed by those themselves

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 179

that have written. We will therefore enumerate
some heads or points thereof, that it may appear the
better what it is, and whether it be extant.

First, therefore, in this, as in all things which are
practical, we ought to cast up our account, what is
in our power, and what not ; for the one may be
dealt with by way of alteration, but the other by way
of application only. The husbandman cannot com-
mand, neither the nature of the earth, nor the sea-
sons of the weather, no more can the physician the
constitution of the patient, nor the variety of acci-
dents. So in the culture and cure of the mind of
man, two things are without our command ; points
of nature, and points of fortuoe : for to the basis
of the one, and the conditions of the other, our work
is limited and tied. In these things therefore, it is
left unto us to proceed by application.

Vincenda est omnis fortuna ferendo :
and so likewise,

Vincenda est omnis natura ferendo.
But when that we speak of suffering, we do not speak
of a dull and neglected suffering, but of a wise and
industrious suffering, which draweth and contriveth
use and advantage out of that which seemeth adverse
and contrary, which is that properly which we call
accommodating or applying. Now the wisdom of
application resteth principally in the exact and dis-
tinct knowledge of the precedent state or disposition,
unto which we do apply , for we cannot fit a gar-
ment, except we first take measure of the body.

So then the first article of this knowledge is to set
down sound and true distributions, and descriptions
of the several characters and tempers of mens natures
and dispositions, especially having regard to those
differences which are most radical, in being the foun-
tains and causes of the rest, or most frequent in con-
currence or commixture; wherein it is not the hand-
ling of a few of them in passage, the better to de-
scribe the mediocrities of virtues, that can satisfy thi<
Intention : for if it deserve to be considered, " that
fhere-are minds which are proportioned to great mat-

180 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

ters, and others to small," which Aristotle handleth
or ought to have handled by the name of magnani-
mity, doth it not deserve as well to be considered,
e that there are minds proportioned to intend many
" matters, and others to few?" So that some c:m
divide themselves, others can perchance do exactly
well, but it must be but in few things at once ; and
so there cometh to be a narrowness of mind, as well
as a pusillanimity. And again, " that some minds
" are proportioned to that which may be dispatched
" at once, or within a short return of time; others to
- " that which begins afar off, and is to be won with
" length of pursuit,*'

Jam turn tcnditqtiefovetqite.

So that there may be fitly said to be a longanimity,
which is commonly ascribed to God as a magnani-
mity. So farther deserved it to be considered by
Aristotle, " that there is a disposition in conversation,
" supposing it in things which do in no sort touch
" or concern a man's self, to sooth and please ; and
cc a disposition contrary to contradict and cross :" and
deserveth it not much better to be considered, " that
" there is a disposition, not in conversation or talk, but
" in matter of more serious nature, and supposing it
" still in things merely indifferent, to take pleasure
" in the good of another, and a disposition contra-
" riwise, to take distaste at the good of another ?"
which is that properly which we call good-nature or
ill-nature, benignity or malignity. And therefore I
cannot sufficiently marvel., that this part of knowledge,
touching the several characters of natures and dispo-
sitions, should be omitted both in morality and policy,
considering it is of so great ministry and suppeditation
to them both. A man shall find in the traditions of
astrology some pretty and apt divisions of mens na-
tures, according to the predominances of the planets;
lovers of quiet, lovers of action, lovers of victory,
lovers of honour, lovers of pleasure, lovers of arts,
lovers of change, and so forth. A man shall find in
the wisest sort of these relations, which the Italians
make touching conclaves^ the natures of the several

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 8 1

cardinals handsomely and lively painted forth ; a man
shall meet with, in every day's conference, the de-
nominations of sensitive, dry, formal, real, humourous,
certain, huomo di prima impressione, huomo di ultima
impressione, and the like: and yet nevertheless this
kind of observations wandereth in words, but is not
fixed in inquiry. For the distinctions are found, many
of them, but we conclude no precepts upon them :
wherein our fault is the greater, because both history,
poesy, and daily experience are as goodly fields where
these observations grow; whereof we make a few
poesies to hold in our hands, but no man bringeth v
them to the confectionary, that receipts might be
made of them for the use of life.

Of much like kind are those impressions of na-
ture, which are imposed upon the mind by the sex,
by the age, by the region, by health and sickness, by
beauty and deformity, and the like, which are inhe-
rent, and not external ; and again, those which are
caused by external fortune : as sovereignty, nobility,
obscure birth, riches, want, magistracy, privateness,
prosperity, adversity, constant fortune, variable for-
tune, rising per saltum, per gradus, and the Jike. And
therefore we see that Plautus makcth it a wonder to
see an old man beneficent, benignitas hujus ut adoles-
ccntuli est. St. Paul concludeth, that severity of
discipline was to be used to the Cretans, Increpa eos
dure> upon the disposition of their country, Cretemes
semper mendaces, malac bestice> venires pigri. Sallust
noteth, that it is usual with kings to desire contra-
dictories; Sed plerumque regime voluntates, ut vehe-
mcntes sunt, sic mobiles, stcpeque ips& sibi adverse.
Tacitus observeth how rarely raising of the fortune
mendeth the disposition, Solus Vespasianus mutatus in
'tndius. Pindarus maketh an observation, that great
and sudden fortune for the most part defeateth men,
Qui magnam felicitatem concoquere non possunt. So
the Psalm sheweth it is more easy to keep a measure
in the enjoying of fortune, than in the increase of
fortune : Divitce si qffluant, nolite cor apponere. These
observations, and the like, I deny not but are touched

VOL. i. N

182 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

a little by Aristotle, as in passage, in his Rhetorics,
and are handled in some 'scattered discourses; but
they were never incorporated into moral philosophy,
to which they do essentially appertain ; as the know-
ledge of the diversity of grounds and moulds doth
to agriculture, and the knowledge of the diversity of
complexions and constitutions doth to the physician;
except we mean to follow the indiscretion of em-
pirics, which administer the same medicines to all
patients.

Another article of this knowledge, is the inquiry
touching the affections : for as in medicining of the
body, it is in order first to know the divers com-
plexions and constitutions; secondly, the diseases;
and lastly, the cures: so in medicining of the mind,
after knowledge of the divers characters of mens
natures, it followeth, in order, to know the diseases
and infirmities of the mind, which are no other than
the perturbations and distempers of the affections. For
as the ancient politicians in popular states were wont
to compare the people to the sea, and the orators to
the winds, because as the sea would of itself be calm
and quiet, if the winds did not move and trouble it ;
so the people would be peaceable and tractable if the
seditious orators did not set them in working and
agitation : so it may be fitly said, that the mind in
the nature thereof would be temperate and stayed, if
the affections, as winds, did not put it into tumult
and perturbation. And here again I find strange as
before, that Aristotle should have written divers
volumes of Ethics,, and never handled the affections,
which is the principal subject thereof; and yet in
bis Rhetorics, where they are considered but collate-
rally, and in a second degree, as they may be moved
by speech, he findeth place for them, and handleth
them well for the quantity ; but where their true place
is, he pretermiteth them. For it is not his disputa-
tions about pleasure and pain that can satisfy this
inquiry, no more than he that should generally handle
the nature of light, can be said to handle the nature
of colours ; for pleasure and pain are to the particu-

Botik II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 183

Jar affections, as light is to particular colours. Better
travels, I suppose, had the Stoics taken in this argu-
ment, as far as I can gather by that which we have at
second hand. But yet, it is like, it was after their
manner, rather in subtilty of definitions, which, in
a subject of this nature, are but curiosities, than in
active and ample descriptions and observations. So
likewise I find some particular writings of an ele-
gant nature, touching some of the affections ; as of
anger, of comfort upon adverse accidents, of tender-
ness of countenance, and other. But the poets and
writers of histories are the best doctors of this know-
ledge, where we may find painted forth with great
life, how affections are kindled and incited ; and
how pacified and refrained ; and how again con-
tained from act, and farther degree ; how they dis-
close themselves , how they work ; how they vary ;
how they gather and fortify ; how they are inwrapped
one within another ; and how they do fight and en-
counter one with another ; and other the like par-
ticularities. Amongst the wrhich, this last is of spe-
cial use in moral and civil matters : how, I say, to
set affection against affection, and to master one by
another even as we use to hunt beast with beast,
and fly bird with bird, which otherwise perhaps we
could not so easily recover : upon which foundation
is erected that excellent use of premium and pcenay
whereby civil states consist, employing the predo-
minant affections of fear and hope, for the suppressing
and bridling the rest. For as in the government of
states, it is sometimes necessary to bridle one faction
with another, so it is in the government within.

Now come we to those points which are within our
own command, and have force and operation upon the
mind, to affect the will and appetite, and to alter
manners : wherein they ought to have handled cus-
tom, exercise, habit, education, example, imitation,
emulation, company, friends, praise, reproof, exhor-
tation, fame, laws, books, studies : these as they have
determinate use in moralities, from these the mind
suffereth, and of. these are such receipts and regimens

184- Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IT,

compounded and described, as may serve to recover
or preserve the health and good estate of the mind,
as far as pertaineth to human medicine ; of which
number we will insist upon some one or two, as an
example of the rest, because it were too long to pro-
secute all ; and therefore we do resume custom and
habit to speak of.

The opinion of Aristotle seemeth to me a negligent
opinion, that of those things which consist by na-
ture, nothing can be changed by custom ; using for
example, that if a stone be thrown ten thousand
times up, it will not learn to ascend, and that by
often seeing or hearing, we do not learn to hear or
see the better. For though this principle be true in
things wherein nature is peremptory, the reason
whereof we cannot now stand to discuss, yet it is
otherwise in things wherein nature admitteth a lati-
tude. For he might see that a strait glove will come
more easily on with use ; and that a wand will by use
bend otherwise than it grew ; and that by use of the
voice we speak louder and stronger ; and that by use of
enduring heat or cold, we endure it the better, and
the like : which latter sort have a nearer resemblance
unto that subject of manners he handleth, than those
instances which he alledgeth. But allowing his con-
clusion, that virtues and vices consist in habit, he
ought so much the more to have taught the manner
of superinducing that habit : for there be many pre-
cepts of the wise ordering the exercises of the mind,
as there is of ordering the exercises of the body,
whereof we will recite a few.

The first shall be, that we beware we take not at
the first either too high a strain, or too weak : for if
too high in a diffident nature you discourage ; in a
confident nature you breed an opinion of facility, and
so a sloth : and in all natures you breed a farther
expectation than can hold out, and so an insatisfac-
tion in the end: if too weak of the other side, you
may not look to perform and overcome any great task.
Another precept is, to practise all things chiefly
lit two several times, the one when the mind is best

\

Book II. ] Of the Advancement of Learning* 185

disposed, the other when it is worst disposed -, that
by the one you may gain a great step, by the other
you may work out the knots and stones of the mind,
and make the middle times the more easy and plea-
sant.

Another precept is that which Aristotle mentioneth
by the way, which is, to bear ever towards the con-
trary extreme of that whereunto we are by nature in-
clined: like unto the rowring against the stream, or
making a wand straight, by binding him contrary to
his natural crookedness.

Another precept is, that the mind is brought to
any thing better, and with more sweetness and hap-
piness, if that whereunto you pretend be not first in
the intention, but tanquain aliud agenda, because of
the natural hatred of the mind against necessity and
constraint. Many other axioms there are touching
the managing of exercise and custom ; which being
so conducted, doth prove indeed another nature ; but
being governed by chance, doth commonly prove
but an ape of nature, and bringeth forth that which
is lame and counterfeit.

So if we should handle books and studies, and what
influence and operation they have upon manners, are
there not divers precepts of great caution and direc-
tion appertaining thereunto ? Did not one of the
fathers in great indignation call poesy vinum dccmo-
nuniy because it increaseth temptations, perturba-
tions, and vain opinions ? Is not the opinion of
Aristotle worthy to be regarded, wherein he saith,
" That young men are no fit auditors of moral phi-
" losophy, because they are not settled from the
" boiling heat of their affections, nor attempered with
" time and experience ?" And doth it not hereof
come, that those excellent books and discourses of
the ancient writers, whereby they have persuaded
unto virtue most effectually, by representing her in
state and majesty ; and popular opinions against vir-
tue in their parasites coats, fit to be scorned and de-
rided, are of so little effect towards honesty of life,
because they are not read, and revolved by men in

1S6 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

their nature and settled years, but confined almost to
boys and beginners ? But is it not true also, that
much less young men are fit auditors of matters of
policy, till they have been thoroughly seasoned in
religion and morality, lest their judgments be cor-
rupted, and made apt to think that there are no true
differences of things, but according to utility and
fortune, as the verse describes it ?

Prosperum et felix scelus virtus vocatur.
And again,

I Lie crucem pretium sceleris tulit, hie diadema :
which the poets do speak satirically, and in indignar
tion on virtue's behalf: but books of policy do speak it
seriously and positively; for it so pleaseth Machiavel
to say, " that if Caesar had been overthrown, he would
ft have been more odious than ever was Catiline:" as if
there had been no difference, but in fortune, between
a very fury of lust and blood, and the most excellent
spirit, his ambition reserved, of the world ? Again, is
there not a caution likewise to be given of the doc-
trines of moralities themselves, some kinds of them, less
they make men too precise, arrogant, incompatible,
as Cicero saith of Cato in Marco Catonc : Hcec bonay
qiue videmus, divina et egregia, ipsius scitote esse pro-
'jyria : qme nonminquain requirimus, ca sunt omnia^ non
'a natura, sed a magistro ? Many other axioms and
advices there are touching those proprieties and
effects, which studies do infuse and instil into man-
ners. And so likewise is there touching the use of
all those other points, of company, fame, laws, and
the rest, which we recited in the beginning in the
doctrine of morality.

But there is a kind of culture of the mind that
seemeth yet more Accurate and elaborate than the
rest, and is built upon this ground : that the minds of
all men are sometimes in a state more perfect, and at
other times in a state more depraved. The purpose
therefore of this practice is, to fix and cherish the
good hours of the mind, and to obliterate and take
forth the evil. The fixing of the good hath been
practised by two means, vows or constant resolutions^

JBook II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 187

and observances or exercises ; which are not to be re-
garded so much in themselves, as because they keep
the mind in continual obedience. The obliteration
of the evil hath been practised by two means, some
kind of redemption or expiation of that which is past,
and an inception or account de ?wvo, for the time to
come : but this part seemeth sacred and religious, and
justly; for all good moral philosophy, as was said, is
but an handmaid to religion.

Wherefore we will conclude with that last point,
which is of all other means the most compendious
and summary; and, again, the most noble and efFec^
tual to the reducing of the mind unto virtue and good
estate; which is, the electing and propounding unto
a man's self good and virtuous ends of his life, such
as may be in a reasonable sort within his compass to
attain. For if these two things be supposed, that a
man set before him honest and good ends, and again
that he be resolute, constant, and true unto them ;
it will follow, that he shall mould himself into all
virtue at once. And this is indeed like the work of
nature, whereas the other course is like the work of
the hand: for as when a carver makes 'an image, he
shapes only that part whereupon he worketh, as if he
be upon the face, that part which shall be the body
is but a rude stone still, till such time as he comes to
it : but, contrariwise, when nature makes a flower
or living creature, she formeth rudiments of ajl the
parts af one time : so in obtaining virtue by habit,
while a man practjseth temperance, he doth not pro-
fit much to fortitude, nor the like : but when he de-
dicateth and applieth himself to good ends, look,
what virtue soever the pursuit and passage towards
those ends doth commend unto him, he is invested of
a precedent disposition to conform himself there-
unto. Which state of mind Aristotle doth ex-
cellently express himself, that it ought not to be cal-
led virtuous but divine : his words are these ; Im-
manitati autein consentaneum est, opponere earn, qute
supra humanitatem est, heroicam sire divinam virtutt-m.
And a little after, Nam ut fora neque vitium neque

188 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

virtus esf, sic neque Dei. Sed hie qitidem status altius
quiddani virtute est, ille alind quiddam a vitio. And
therefore we may see what celsitude of honour Plinius
Secundus attributed! to Trajan in his funeral ora-
tion ; where he said, " that men needed to make no
" other prayers to the gods, but that they would' con-
" tinue as good lords to them as Trajan had been ;'*
as if he had not been only an imitation of divine na-
ture, but a pattern of it. But these be heathen and
profane passages, having but a shadow of that divine
state of mind, which religion and the holy faith doth
conduct men unto, by imprinting^ upon their souls
charity, which is excellently called the bond of per-
fection, because it comprehendeth and fasteneth all
virtues together. And as it is elegantly said by Me-
^nander of vain love, which is but a false imitation of
'divine love, Amor melior sophista la:vo ad humanam
vitam, that love teacheth a man to carry himself bet-
ter than the sophist or preceptor, which he calleth
left-handed, because, with all his rules and precepts,
he cannot form a man so dexterously, nor with that
facility, to prize himself, and govern himself, as love
can do. So certainly if a man's mind be truly in-
flamed with charity, it doth work him suddenly into
greater perfection than all the doctrine of morality
can do, which is but a sophist in comparison of the
other. Nay farther, as Xenophon observed truly,
that all other affections, though they raise the mind,
yet they do it by distorting and uncomeliness of ec-
stasies or excesses ; but only love doth exalt the
mind, and nevertheless at the same instant doth set-
tle and compose it : so in all other excellencies,
though they advance nature, yet they are subject to
excess. Only charity admitteth no excess; for so
we see, by aspiring to be like God in power, the
angels transgressed and fell ; Ascendant, et ero similis
Altissimo : by aspiring to be like God in knowledge,
man transgressed and fell ; Eritis sicut Dji, scientes
bonum et malum : but by aspiring to a similitude of
God in goodness, or love, neither man nor angel
ever transgressed, or shall transgress. For unto that

Bc

ook II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 89

imitation we are called ; Diligite inimicos vestrtis, be-
lief acite eis qui oderunt vox, et orate pro persequenti-
bus et calumniantibus vos ut sitisjilii Patris vestri, qui
in ccclis esty qui solem suum oriri facit super bonos et
malos, et pluit super justos et injustos. So in the first
platform of the divine nature itself, the heathen re-
ligion speaketh thus, Optimus Maximus ; and the sa-
cred Scriptures thus, Misericordia ejus super omnia
opera ejus.

Wherefore I do conclude this part of moral know-
ledge concerning the culture and regimen of the
mind ; wherein if any man, considering the parts
thereof, which I have enumerated, do judge that my
labour is but to collect into an art or science, that
which hath been pretermitted by others, as matters
of common sense and experience, he judgeth well:
but as Philocrates sported with Demosthenes, " You
" may not marvel, Athenians, that Demosthenes
" and I do differ, for he drinketh water, and I
" drink wine." And like as we read of an ancient
parable of the two gates of sleep,

Sunt geminte somni port<£, quarum alter a fertur
Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris :
Alter a candenli perfecta nitens elephanto,
Sed falsa ad ccclum mittunt insomnia manes.
So if we put on sobriety and attention, we Shall
find it a sure maxim in knowledge, that the more
pleasant liquor of wine is the more vaporous, and
the braver gate of ivory sendeth forth the falser
dreams.

But we have now concluded that general part of
human philosophy, which contemplateth man segre-
gate, and as he consisteth of body and spirit. Wherein
we may farther note, that there seemeth to be a
relation or conformity between the good of the mind
and the good of the body. For as we divided the
good of the body into health, beauty, strength, and
pleasure; so the good of the mind, inquired in ra-
tional and moral knowledges, tendeth to this, to make
the mind sound and without perturbation, beautiful
and graced with decency 3 and strong and agile for all

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

duties of life. These three, as in the body, so in the
mind, seldom meet, and commonly sever. For it is
easy to observe, that many have strength of wit and
courage, but have neither health from perturbations,
nor any beauty or decency in their doings: some
again have an elegancy and fineness of carriage, which
have neither soundness of honesty, nor substance
pf sufficiency : and some again have honest and re-
formed minds, that can neither become themselves,
nor manage business. And sometimes two of them
meet, and rarely all three. As for pleasure, we have
likewise determined, that the mind ought not to be
reduced to stupidity, but to retain pleasure ; confined
rather in the subject of it, than in the strength and
vigour of it.

CIVIL Knowledge is conversant about a subject
which of all others is most immersed in matter, and
hardliest reduced to axiom. Nevertheless, as Cato
the censor said, " that the Romans were like sheep,
<c for that a man might better drive a flock of them,
ce than one of them ; for in a flock, if you could get
" but some few to go right, the rest would follow :"
so in that respect moral philosophy is more difficult
than policy. Again, moral philosophy propoundeth
to itself the framing of internal goodness; but civil
knowledge requireth only an external goodness; for
that as to society sufficeth. And therefore it cometh oft
to pass that there be evil times in good governments:
for so we find in the holy story, when the kings were
good; yet it is added, tied adhuc populus non direxerat
eor swim ad D&minum Dcum patrum suorurn. Again,
states, as great engines, move shovvly, and are not so
soon put out of fiame: for as in Egypt the seven
good years sustained the seven bad; so governments
for a time well ^grounded, do bear out errors follow-
ing.' But the resolution of particular persons is more
suddenly subverted. These respects do somewhat
qualify the extreme difficulty of civil knowledge.

This knowledge hath three parts according to the
three summary actions of society, which are Conver-

Book II.'J Of the Advancement of Learning. 1 •} I

sation, Negotiation, and Government. For mar*
seeketh in society comfort, use, and protection: and
and they be three wisdoms of divers natures, which
do often sever; wisdom of behaviour, wisdom of
business, and wisdom of state.

The wisdom of Conversation ought not to be over
much affected, but much less despised : for it hath
not only an honor in itself, but an influence also into
business and government. The poet saith, Nee vultu
destrue verba tno. A man may destroy the force of
his words with his countenance: so may he of his
deeds, saith Cicero, recommending to his brother af-
fability and easy access, Nil interest habere ostinm
apcrtum, vnltnm clansnm. " It is nothing won to
" admit men with an open door, and to receive them
" with a shut and reserved countenance." So, we
see, Atticus, before the first interview between Caesar
and Cicero, the war depending, did seriously advise
Cicero touching the composing and ordering of his
countenance and gesture. And if the government of
the countenance be of such effect, much more is
that of the speech, and other carriage appertaining
to conversation ; the true model whereof seemeth to
me well expressed by Livy, though not meant for
this purpose; Ne ant arrogans videar, ant obnoxins ;
quorum alternm est alieme Libertatis obliti, alterum sii& :
*' The sum of behaviour is to retain a man's own dig-
ff nity, without intruding upon the liberty of others."
On the other side, if behaviour and outward car-
riage be intended too much, first it may pass into
affectation, and then Quid deformim, quam scenam
in vitam tramferre, to act a man's life? But although
it proceed not to that extreme, yet it consumeth time,
and employeth the mind too much. And therefore
as we use to advise young students from company
keeping, by saying, Amid, fares ternporis > so cer-
tainly the intending of the discretion of behaviour is a
great thief of meditation. Again, such as are ac-
complished in that form of urbanity, please themselves
in it, and seldom aspire to higher virtue; whereas
those that have defect in it, do seek comeliness by re-

192 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

putation ; for where reputation is, almost every thing
becometh ; but where that is not, it must be sup-
plied by punctilios and compliments. Again, there
is no greater impediment of action, than an over-
curious observance of decency, and the guide of de-
cency, which is time and season. For as Solomon
saith, 2ni respicit ad ventas, non seminal , et qid res-
picit ad ' nubes, non mctet: a man must make his op-
portunity as oft as find it. To conclude ; behaviour
seemeth to me as a garment of the mind, and to have
the conditions of a garment. For it ought to be
made in fashion ; it ought not to be too curious, it
ought to be shaped so as to set forth any good making
of the mind, and hide any deformity ; and above all,
it ought not to be too strait, or restrained for exercise
or motion. But this part of civil knowledge hath
been elegantly handled, and therefore I cannot re-
port it for deficient.

t)e nego* The wisdom touching Negotiation or Business hath
render not been hitherto collected into writing, to the great
derogation of learning, and the professors of learning.
For from this root springeth chiefly that note or
opinion, which by us is expressed in adage to this
effect ; that there is no great concurrence between
learning and wisdom. For of the three wisdoms
which we have set down to pertain to civil life, for
wisdom of behaviour, it is by learned men for the
„ most part despised, as an inferior to virtue, and an

enemy to meditation; for wisdom of government,
they acquit themselves well when they are called to
it, but that happeneth to few : but for the wisdom
of business, wherein man's life is most conversant,
there be no books of it, except some few scattered
advertisements, that have no proportion to the mag-
nitude of this subject. For if books were written
of this, as the other, I doubt not but learned men,
with mean experience, would far excel men of long
experience, without learning, and outshoot them in
their own bow.

Neither needeth it at all to be doubted, that this
knowledge should be so variable, as it falleth. not

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 193

under precept ; for it is much less infinite than,
science of government, which, we see, in laboured,
and in some part reduced. Of this -wisdom, it
seerneth, some of the ancient Romans, in the sagest
and wisest times, were professors ; for Cicero re-
porteth, that it was then in use for senators that had
name and opinion for general wisfc men, as Corunca-
nius, Curius, Laelius, and many others, to walk at
certain hours in the place, and to give audience to
those that would use their advice ; and that the par-
ticular citizens would resort unto them, and consult
with them of the marriage of a daughter, or of the
employing of a son, or of a purchase or bargain,
or of an accusation, and every other occasion inci-
dent to man's life. So as there is a wisdom of coun-
sel and advice even in private cases, arising out of
an universal insight into the affairs of the world ;
which is used indeed upon particular cases pro-
pounded, but is gathered by general observation of
cases of like nature. For so we see in the book
which Q. Cicero writeth to his brother, De petitione
considatus, being the only book of business, that I
know, written by the ancients, although it concerned
a particular action then on foot, yet the substance
thereof consisteth of many wise and politic axioms,
which contain not a temporary, but a perpetual di-
rection in the case of popular elections. But chiefly
we may see in those aphorisms which have place
amongst divine writings, composed by Solomon the
king, of whom the scriptures testify, that his heart
was as the sands of the sea, encompassing the world
and all worldly matters : we see, I say, not a few pro-
found and excellent cautions, precepts, positions, ex-
tending to much .variety of occasions ; whereupon
we will stay awhile, offering to consideration some
number of examples.

Sed et cunctis sermonibus, qid dicuntur, ne accb?n-
modes aurem tuam, ne forte audias serviun tuum malc-
dicentem tibi.

Here is recommended the provident stay of inquiry
of that which we would be loth to find : as it was

194 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

judged great wisdom in Pompeius Magnus that he
burned Sertorius's papers unperused.

Vir sapiens, d cum stulto contenderit, sive irascatur,
sive rideat, non inveniet requiem.

Here is described the great disadvantage which a
Xvise man hath in undertaking a lighter person than
himself, which is such an engagement, as whether
a man turn the matter to jest, or turn it to heat, or
howsoever he change copy^ he can no ways quit him-
self well of it.

2ui delicate d pueritia nutrit servum swim, postea
sentiet earn contumaccm.

Here is signified, that if a man begin too high a
pitch in his favours, it doth commonly end in un-
kindness and unthankfulness.

Vidisti virum velocem in opere suo, coram tpgibits
stabit, nee erit inter ignobiles.

Here is observed, that of all virtues for rising to
honour, quickness of dispatch is the best ; for supe-
riors many times love not to have those they employ,
too deep or too sufficient, but ready and diligent.

Vidi cunctos viventes, qui ambulant sub sole, cum
adolescente secundo, qui consurgit pro eo.

Here is expressed that which was noted by Sylla
first, and after him by Tiberius j P lures adorant solem
orientem, quam occidental velmeridianum.

Si spiritus potestateni habentis ascendent super te,
locum iiium ne dimiseris, quia curatio faciet cessare
pcccata maxima.

Here caution is given, that upon displeasure^ re-
tiring is of all courses the unfittest ; for a man leaveth
things at worst, and depriveth himself of means to
make them better.

Eral' civ it as parva, et panel in ea viri ; venit contra
earn rex wagnus, et. va davit eamy instruxitque muni-
tiones per gyrum, et perfect a est obsidio ; iiwentusque
est in ea vir pauper et sapiens, et liber ar it earn per
sapientiam siumi, et nullus deinceps recordatus est Iw-
mlnis ULius pauperis.

Here the corruption of states is set forth, that
esteem not virtue or merit longer than they have use
of it.

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 195

Moll is responsio frangit iram.

Here is noted, that silence or rough answer exas-
perateth , but an answer present and temperate pa-
citieth.

Itcr pigrorum, quasi sepes spinarum.

Here is lively represented how laborious sloth
proveth in the end ; for when things are deferred to
the last instant, and nothing prepared beforehand,
every step findeth a brier or an impediment, which
catcheth or stoppeth.

Mtlior est finis orationis, quam principhtm.

Here is taxed the vanity of formal speakers, that
study more about prefaces and inducements, than
upon the conclusions and issues of speech.

Qui cognoscit in judkio faciem, non benefacit ; istc
et pro buccella panis deseret veritatcm.

Here is noted, that a judge were better be a briber,
than a respecter of persons; for a corrupt judge
oflendeth not so lightly as a facile.

Vir pauper calumnians pauperes, similis est imbri
vehemently in quo par atur fames.

Here is expressed the extremity of necessitous ex-
tortions, figured in the ancient fable of the full and
the hungry horse-leech.

Fons turbatus pede, el vena corrupta, est Justus cadcns
cor am impio.

Here is noted that one judicial and exemplar ini-
quity in the face of the \vorld, doth trouble the foun-
tains of justice more than many particular injuries
passed over by connivance.

Qt/i subtrahit aliquid (I patre et a. mat re, et die it hoc
non case peccatum, particeps est homicidii.

Here is noted, that whereas men in wronging their
best friends, use to extenuate their fault, as if they
might presume or be bold upon them, it doth con-
trariwise indeed aggravate their fault, and turneth it
from injury to impiety.

Noti csse amicus hojnini iracundo, ncc ambulato cum
hoviine furioso,

Here caution is given, that in the election of our
friends we do principallv avoid those which are'im-

196 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

patient, as those that will espouse us to many factions
and quarrels.

Qui conturbat domum sua?n, possidebit ventum.

Here is noted that in domestical separations and
breaches men do promise to themselves quieting of
their mind and contentment, but still they are de-
ceived of their expectation, and it turneth to wind.

Filius sapiens Icetificat patrem : Jilius vero stidlus
m&stitia es matri siue.

Here is distinguished, that fathers have most com-
fort of the good proof of their sons ; but mothers
have most discomfort of their ill proof, because wo-
men have little discerning of virtue, but of fortune.

Qui celat delictum, qucerit amicitiam $ sed qui altero
sermone repetit, separat feeder atos.

Here caution is given, that reconcilement is better
managed by an amnesty, and passing over that which
is past, than by apologies and excusations.

In omni opere bono erit almndantia ; ubi autein verba
sunt plurima, ibi frequenter egestas.

Here is noted, that words and discourse abound
most where there is idleness and want.

Primus in ma causa Justus ; sed venit alter a pars, et
inquirit in eum.

Here is observed that in all causes the first tale
possesseth much, in such sort, that the prejudice
thereby wrought will be hardly removed, except some
abuse or falsity in the information be detected.

Verba bilinguis quasi simplicia, et ipsa perremunt
ad interior a ventris.

Here is distinguished, that flattery and insinua-
tion, wh'ch seemeth set and artificial, sinketh not
far ; but that entereth deep which hath shew of na-
ture, liberty, and simplicity.

Qui erudit derisorcm, ipsc sibi injuriam facit ; et
qid arguit impiiim, sibi maadam gsnerat.

Here caution is given how we tender reprehension
to arrogant and scornful natures, whose manner is to
esteem it for contumely, and accordingly to return it.
Da sapienti occasioncm, et addetur ei sapientia.

Here is distinguished the wisdom brought into

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 197

habit, and that which is but verbal, and swimming
only in conceit; for the one" upon the occasion pre-
sented is quickened and redoubled, the other is ama-
zed and confused.

Quo mode in aquis resplendent vulhts prospicientinrn>
sic cordia hominum niamfcsta swit prudehtibus.

Here the mind of a wise man is compared to a
glass, wherein the images of all diversity of natures
and customs are represented, from which representa-
tion proceedeth that application,

Qui sapil, innumeris moribiis aptus crit.

Thus have I staid somewhat longer upon these sen-
tences politic of Solomon than is agreeable to the pro-
portion of an example, Jed with a desire to give au-
thority to this part of knowledge which I noted as
deficient, by so excellent a precedent; and have also
attended them with brief observations, such as to my
understanding offer no violence to the sense, though
I know they may be applied to a more divine use;
but it is allowed even in divinity, that some interpre-
tations, yea and some writings, have more of the
eagle than others ; but taking them as instructions for
life, they might have received large discourse, if I
would have broken them and illustrated them by de-
duceinents and examples,

Neither was this in use only with the Hebrews,
but it is generally to be found in the wisdom of the
more ancient times; that as men found out any ob-
servation that they thought was good for life, they
would gather it and express it in parable, or apho-
rism, or fable, But for fables, they were vicegerents
and supplies where examples failed : now that the
times abound with history, the aim is better when
the mark is alive. And therefore the form of writing,
which of all others is the fittest for this variable argu-
ment of negociation and occasions, is that which
Machiavel chose wisely and aptly for government ;
namely, discourse upon histories or examples : for
knowledge drawn freshly, and in our view, out of
particulars, knoweth the way best to particulars again ;
and it hath much greater life for practice when the

VOL, i. o

198 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II,

discourse attendeth upon the example* than when the
example attendeth upon the discourse. For this is
no point of 6rder, as it seemeth at first, but of sub-
stance : for when .the example is the ground, being
set down in an history at large, it is set down with
all circumstances, which may sometimes control the
discourse thereupon made, and sometimes supply it
as a very pattern for action ; whereas the examples
alleged forthe discourse's sake, are cited succinctly, and
without particularity, and carry a servile aspect toward
the discourse which they are brought in to make good.

But this difference is not amiss to be remembered, that
as history of times is the best ground for discourse of go-
vernment, such as Machiavel handleth, so history of
lives is the most proper for discourse of business, be-
cause it is more conversant in private actions. Nay,
there is a ground of discourse for this purpose fitter
than them both, which is discourse upon letters; such
as are wise and weighty, as many are of Cicero ad
Atticum, and others. For letters have a great and
more particular representation of business than either
chronicles or lives. Thus have we spoken both of
the matter and form of this part of civil knowledge,
touching negociation, which we note to be deficient.

But yet there is another part of this part, which dif-
fereth as much from that whereof we have spoken, as
sapere and sibi sapere; the one moving as it were to
the circumference, the other to the centre : for there
is a wisdom of counsel, and again there is a wisdom
of pressing a man's own fortune, and they do some-
times meet, and often sever : for many are wise in their
own ways that are weak for government or counsel ;
like ants, which are wise creatures for themselves, but
very hurtful for the garden. This wisdom the Romans
did take much knowledge of: Nam pol sapiens, saith
the.comical poet, Jlngit fortunam sibi ; and it grew to
'an adage, Faber quisque fortune propria : and Livy
attributeth it to Cato the first, in hoc viro t ant a vis
animi ct ingcnii inerat, ut quocunque Loco natus essct,
bi ipse fortunam facturus videretur.

This conceit or position, if it be too much declared

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 199

and professed, hath been thought a thing impolitic
and unlucky, as was observed in Timotheus the
Athenian ; who having done many great services to
the estate in his government, and giving an account
thereof to the people, as the manner was, did con-
clude every particular with this clause, ec and in this
fortune had no part." And it came to pass that he
never prospered in any thing he took in hand after-
wards ; for this is too high and too arrogant, savour-
ing of that which Ezekiel saith of Pharaoh, Dicis,
I1tuvins est mcus, et ego foci mcmetipsum : or of that
which another prophet speaketh, that men offer sacri-
fices to their nets and snares ; and that which the poet
Iexpresseth,
Dextra mihi Dens, et telum, quod missile libro.
Nunc ads hit :
For these confidences were ever unhallowed, and un-
blessed : and therefore those that were great politicians
indeed ever ascribed their successes to their felicity, and
not to their skill or virtue For so Sylla surnamed
himself Felix not Magnus : so Caesar said to the mas-
ter of the ship, Cccsarem port as et fortunam ejus.

But yet nevertheless these positions, Fabcr quisque
for tame siuc ; Sapiens dominabitur astris : Invia mrtuti
nulla est via, and the like, being taken and used as
spurs to industry, and not as stirrups to irsolency, ra-
ther for resolution than for presumption or outward
declaration, have been ever thought sound and good,
and are, no question, imprinted in the greatest minds,
who are so sensible of this opinion, as they can scarce
contain it within : As we see in Augustus Caesar, who
was rather diverse from his uncle, than inferior in vir-
tue, how when he died, he desired his friends about
him to give him a Plaudite, as if he were conscious to
himself that he had played his part well upon the
stage. This part of knowledge we do report also as
deficient ; not but that it is practised too much, but it
hath not been reduced to writing. And therefore lest
it should seem to any that it is not comprehensible by-
axiom, it is requisite, as we did in the former, that
.we set down some heads or passages of it.
9 02

£00 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book If;

Fabcr for. Wherein it may appear at the first a new and un-
de" ambitu wonted argument to teach men how to raise and make
vita. their fortune : a doctrine, wherein every man per-
chance will be ready to yield himself a disciple till he
seeth difficulty ; for fortune layeth as heavy imposi-
tions as virtue, and it is as hard and severe a thing to
be a true politician, as to be truly moral. But the
handling thereof concerneth learning greatly, both in
honour and in substance: In honour, because prag-
matical men may not go away with an opinion that
learning is like a lark, that can mount, and sing,
and please herself, and nothing else ; but may know
that she holdeth as well of the hawk, that can soar
aloft, and can also descend and strike upon the prey.
In substance, because it is the perfect law of inquiry
of truth, " that nothing be in the globe of matter,
" which should not be likewise in the globe of chrys-
" tal, or form;" that is, that there be not any thing
in being and action, which should not be drawn and
collected into contemplation and doctrine. Neither
doth learning admire or esteem of this architecture of
fortune, otherwise than as of an inferior work : for
no man's fortune can be an end worthy of his being,
and many times the worthiest men do abandon their
fortune willingly for better respects ; but nevertheless
for-tune, as an organ of virtue and merit, deserveth
the consideration.

First, therefore, the precept which I conceive to be
most summary towards the prevailing in fortune, is to
obtain that window which Momusdid require ; who
seeing in the frame of man's heart such angles and re-
cesses, found fault there was not a window to look
into them ; that is, to procure good informations of
particulars touching persons, their natures, their de-
sires and ends, their customs and fashions, their helps
arid advantages, and whereby they chiefly stand ; so
again their weaknesses and disadvantages, and where
they lie most open and obnoxious ; their friends, fac-
tions, and dependencies; and again their opposites,
enviers, competitors, their moods and times, Sola viri
molles aditus et temppra nor as ; their principles, rules,

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 201

and observations, and the like : and this not only of
persons, but of actions, what are on foot from time
to time, and how they are conducted, favoured, op-
posed, and how they import, and the like. For the
knowledge of present actions is not only material in
itself, but without it also the knowledge of persons
is very erroneous; for men change with the actions,
and whilst they are in pursuit they are one, and
when they return to their nature they are another.
These informations of particulars, touching persons
and actions, are as the minor propositions in every
active syllogism, for no excellency of observations,
which are as the major propositions, can suffice to
ground a conclusion, if there be error and mistaking
in -the minors.

That this knowledge is possible Solomon is our
surety, who saith, Consilium in cordc viri tanquam
aqua profunda^ sed vlr prudent exhauriet illud: And
although the knowledge itself falleth not under pre-
cept, because it is of individuals, yet the instructions
for the obtaining of it may.

We will begin therefore with this precept, accord-
ing to the ancient opinion, that the sinews of wisdom
are slowness of belief and distrust; that more trust
be given to countenances and deeds than to words ;
and in words, rather to sudden passages and surprised
words than to set and purposed words,. Neither let
that be feared which is said, front i nulla t fides > which
is meant of a general outward behaviour, and not of
the private and subtile motions and labours of the
countenance and gesture ; which, as Q. Cicero ele-
gantly saith, is animi janua, (( the g,ate of the mind."
None more close than Tiberius, and yet Tacitus saith
of Gallus, Eitnirn vidtu offensimem conjectaverat. So
again, noting the differing character and manner of
his commending Germanicus and Drusus in the se-
nate, he saith, touching his fashion wherein he carried
his speech of Germanicus, thus : Magis in speciem
athrnatis vcrbisf quani ut pcnitus scntirc vidcretur ;
but of Drusus thus, Paucioribup, sed intentior, et fida
orationc : and in another place, speaking of his cha-

202 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

racter of speech when he did any thing that was
gracious and popular, he saith, that in other things
he was velut eluctantium verboriun: but then again,
Solid i 'us vero loquebatur quando subvenerit. So that
there is no such artificer of dissimulation, nor no such
com. nanded countenance, vultus ju$sus> that can sever
from a feigned tale some of these fashions, either a
more slight and careless fashion, or more set and
formal, or more tedious and wandring, or coming
from a man more drily and hardly.

Neither are deeds such assured pledges, as that
they may be trusted without a judicious considera-
tion of their magnitude and nature: Fraus.sibi in
parvis fidem prastndt, ut majore emohtmento fallal :
and the Italian thinketh himself upon the point to be
bought and sold, when he is better used than he was .
wont to be, without manifest cause. For small fa^
Vours, they do but lull men asleep, both as to caution
and as to industry, and are, as Demosthenes calleth
them, Alimenta socordice. So again we see how false
the nature of sonie deeds are, in that particular which
Mutianus practised upon Anton ius Primus, upon that
hollow .and unfaithful reconcilement which was made
between them : whereupon Mutianus advanced many
of the friends of Anton ius: sinml amicis ejus pr&fec^
turas et tribunatus largitur : wherein, under pretence
to strengthen him, he did desolate him, and won
from him his dependences.

As for words, though they be like waters to phy-
sicians, full of flattery and uncertainty, yet they are
not to be despised, specially with the advantage
of passion and affection. For so we see Tiberius,
upon a stinging and incensing speech of Agrippina,
came a step forth of his dissimulation, when he said,
" You are hurt, because you do not reign ;" of which
Tacitus saith, Audita luce raram oceulti pectoris vocem
elicuere, correptamque Graco versit admomdt : idea
Ltdi* quia non regnaret. And therefore the poet doth
elegantly call passions, tortures, that urge men to
confess their secrets:

Vino tortus et ira*

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning^ 203

And experience sheweth, there are few men so true
to themselves, and so settled, but that, sometimes upon
heat, sometimes upon bravery, sometimes upon kind-
ness, sometimes upon trouble of mind and weakness,
they open themselves ; specially if they be put to it
with a counter-dissimulation, according to the proverb
of Spain, Di mentira, y sacaras verdad, " Tell a lie,
" and find a tmtji.

As for thq knowing of men, which is at second
hand from reports : mens weakness and faults are
best known from their enemies, their virtues and abi-
lities from their friends, their customs and times from
their servants, their conceits and opinions from their
familiar friends, with whom they discourse most.
General fame is light, and the opinions conceived by
superiors or equals are deceitful ; for to such, men
are more masked, Verivr fama £ domes ficis emtmat.

But the soundest disclosing and expounding of
men is, by their natures and ends ; wherein the
weakest sort of men are best interpreted by their
natures, and the wisest by their ends. For it was
Loth pleasantly and wisely said, though I think very
untruly, by a nuncio of the pope, returning from a
certain nation, where he served as lieger ; whose
opinion being asked touching the appointment of one
to go in his place, he wished that in any case they
did not send one that was too wise ; because no very
wise man would ever imagine, what they in that
country were like to do : and certainly it is an error
frequent for men to shoot over, and to suppose
deeper ends, and more compass-reaches than are :
the Italian proverb being elegant, and for the most
part true,

Di danari, di scnno, c di fede,

CeJ n£ manco che non credi :

" There is commonly less money, less wisdom, and
" less good faith, than men do account upon."

IJut princes, upon a far other reason, are best in-
terpreted by their natures, and private persons by
their ends : for princes being at the top of human
desires, they have for the most part no particular

204 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

ends whereto they aspire, by distance from which a
man might take measure .and scale of the rest of their
actions and desires ; which is one of the causes that
maketh their hearts more inscrutable, Neither is it
sufficient to inform ourselves in mens ends and na^
tures of the variety of them only, but also of the pre-
dominancy, what humor reigneth most, and what
end is principally sought. For so we see, when Ti->
gellinus saw himself out-stripped by Petronius Tur-s
pilianus in Nero's humors of pleasures ; met.us ejus
rimatnr, he wrought upon Nero's fears, whereby he
broke the other's neck.

But to all this part of inquiry, the most compen-
dious way resteth in three things: the first, to have
general acquaintance and inwardness with those
which have general acquaintance, and look most
into the world ; and especially according to the
diversity of business, and the diversity of persons,
to have privacy and conversation with some one
friend at least, which is perfect and well intelli-
genced in every several kind. The second is, to
keep a good mediocrity in liberty of speech and se-
crecy : in most things liberty, secrecy where it irn-
porteth ; for liberty of speech inviteth and provoketh
liberty to be used agaip, and so bringeth much to a
man's knowledge ; and secrecy, on the other side,
induceth trust anc} inwardness. The last is the re-
ducing of a man's self to this watchful and serene
habit, as to make account and purpose, in every
conference and action, as wejl to observe as to act.
For as Epictetus would have a philosopher in every
particular action to say to himself, Et hoc rolo, ct
ctiam institutwn servare : so a politic man in every
thing should say to himself, Et hoc volo, ac etiam
a liquid addisccre. I have stayed the longer upon
this precept of obtaining good information ; because
it is a main part by itself, which answereth to all the
rest. But above all tilings caution must be taken,
that men have a good stay and hold of themselves,
and that this much knowing do not draw on much
meddling ; for nothing is more unfortunate than

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. £05

light and rash intermeddling in many matters. So
that this variety of knowledge tendeth in conclusion
but only to this, to make a better and freer choice of
those actions which may concern us, and to conduct
them with the less error and the more dexterity.

The second precept concerning this knowledge, is
for men to make good information touching their
own persons, and well to understand themselves :
knowing that, as St. James saith, though men look
oft in a glass, yet they do suddenly forget themselves ;
wherein as the divine glass is the word of God, so
the politic glass is the state of the world, or times
wherein we live, in the which we are to behold our-
selves.

For men ought to take an impartial view of their
own abilities and virtues ; and again of their wants
and impediments ; accounting these with the most ;
and those other with the least ; and from this view
and examination, to frame the considerations follow-
ing.

First, to consider how the constitution of their
nature sorteth with the general state of the times ;
which if they find agreeable and fit, then in all things
to give themselves more scope and liberty; but if
differing and dissonant, then in the whole course
of their life to be more close, retired, and reserved:
as we see in Tiberius, who was never seen at a
play, and came not into the senate in twelve of his
last years ; whereas Augustus Caesar lived ever in
mens eyes, which Tacitus observeth : Alia Tiberio
inorum via,

Secondly, to consider how their nature sorteth with
professions and courses of life, and accordingly to
make election, if they be free ; and, if engaged, to
make the departure at the first opportunity, as we
see was done by duke Valentine, that was designed
by his father to a sacerdotal profession, but quitted it
soon after in regard of his parts and inclination ;
being such nevertheless, as a man cannot tell well
whether they were worse for a prince or for a priest.

Thirdly, to consider how they sort with those

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IT,

whom they are like to have competitors and con-
currents, and to take that course wherein there is
most solitude, and themselves like to be most emi-
nent ; as Julius Caesar did, who at first was an orator
or pleader; but when he saw the excellency of Cicero,
Hortensius, Catulus, and others, for eloquence, and
saw there was no man of reputation for the wars but
Pompelus, upon whom the state was forced to rely;
he forsook his course begun toward a civil and popu-
lar greatness, and transferred his designs to a martial
greatness.

Fourthly, in the choice of their friends and de-
pendences, to proceed according to the composition
of their own nature ; as we may see in Caesar ; all
whose friends and followers were men active and
/effectual, but not solemn, or of reputation.

Fifthly, to take special heed how they guide them-
selves by examples, in thinking they can do as they
see others do ; whereas perhaps their natures and
carriages are far differing. In which error it seem-
eth Pompey was, of whom Cicero saith, that he was
wont often to say, Sylla potidt, ego non potero ?
Wherein he was much abused, the natures and pro-
ceedings of himself and his example., being the un-
likest in the world; the one being fierce, violent,
and pressing the fact ; the other solemn, and full or*
majesty and circumstance ; and therefore the less
effectual.

But this precept touching the politic knowledge of
ourselves, hath many other branches whereupon we
cannot insist.

Next to the well understanding and discerning of
a man's self, there followeth the well opening and re-
vealing a man's self; wherein we see nothing more
usual than for the more able man to make the less
shew. For there is a great advantage in the w.eil
netting forth of a man's virtues, fortunes, merits; and
again, in the artificial covering of a man's weaknesses,
defects, disgraces, staying upon the one, sliding from
the other; cherishing the one by circumstances,
gracing the other by exposition, and the like; wherein

look II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 207

see what Tacitus saith of Mutianus, who was the
^reatest politician of his time, Omnium, qiice dixerat,
feceratque, arte quadam ostentator ; which requireth
indeed some art, lest it turn tedious and arrogant ;
but yet so, as ostentation, though it be to the first
degree of vanity, seemeth to me rather a vice in man-
ners than in policy: for as it is said, Audacter ca~
lumniare, semper aliquid hceret; so except it be in a
ridiculous degree of deformity, Audacter te vcndita,
semper aliquid lueret. For it will stick with the more
ignorant and inferior sort of men, though men of
wisdom and rank do smile at it, and despise it; and
yet the authority won with many, doth countervail the ,
disdain of a few. But if it be carried with decency
and government, as with a natural, pleasant, and in-
genuous fashion, or at times when it is mixed with
some peril and unsafety, as in military persons, or at
times when others are most envied; or with easy and
careless passage to it and from it, without dwelling
too long, or being too serious; or with an equal
freedom.of taxing a njan's self, as well as gracing him*
self; or by occasion of repelling or putting down
others injury or insolence ; it doth greatly add to re-
putation : and surely not a few solid natures that
want this ventosity, and cannot sail in the height of
the winds, are not without some prejudice and dis-
advantage by their moderation.

But for these flourishes and enhancements of vir-
tue, they are not perchance unnecessary, so it is at
least necessary that virtue be not disvalued and i in-
based under the just price, which is done in three
manners; by offering and obtruding a man's self,
wherein men think he is rewarded, when he is ac-
cepted: by doing too much, which will not give that
which is well done leave to settle, and in the end
induceth satiety: and by rinding too soon the fruit of
a man's virtue, in commendation, applause, honour,
favour; wherein if a man be pleased with a little,
let him hear what is truly said; Cavene insuetus rebus
major ibus videaris, si hccc te res parva, sicuti rna^jut
4electat.

208 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

But the covering of defects is of no less import-
ance than the valuing of good parts: which may be
done likewise in three manners, by caution/ by
colour, and by confidence. Caution is, when men do
ingeniously and discreetly avoid to be put into those
things for which they are not proper: whereas con-
trariwise, bold and unquiet spirits will thrust them-
selves into matters without difference, and so publish
and proclaim all their wants: colour is, when men
make a way for themselves, to have a construction
made of their faults or \vanrs, as proceeding from
a better cause, or intended for some other purpose:
for of the one it is well said,

tiifpc latct vitium proximitate boni.
And therefore whatsoever want a man hath, he must
see that he pretend the virtue that shadoweth it; as
if he be dull, he must affect gravity; if a coward,
mildness; an so the rest. For the second, a man
must frame some probable cause why he should not
do his best, and why he should dissemble his abili-
ties; and for that purpose must use to dissemble those
abilities which are notorious in him, to give colour
that his true wants are but industries and dissimu-
. Jations. For confidence, it is the last, but surest
remedy ; namely, to depress and seem to despise what-
soever a man cannot attain, observing the good prin-
ciple of the merchants, who endeavour to raise the
price of their own commodities, and to beat down
the price of others. But there is a confidence that
passeth this other, which is, to face out a man's own
defects, in seeming to conceive that he is best in those
things wherein he is failing ; and, to help that again,
to seem on the other side that he hath least opinion of
himself in those things wherein he is best; like as
we shall see it commonly in poets, that if they shew
their verses, and you except to any, they will say,
" that that line cost them more labour than any of the
" rest;" and presently will seem to disable and suspect
rather some other line, which they know well enough
to be the best in the number. But above all, in this
righting and helping ot a man's self in his own car-

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

riage, he must take heed he shew not himself dis-
mantled, and exposed to scorn and injury, by too
much sweetness, goodness, and facility ot nature, but
shew some sparkles of liberty, spirit, and edge: which
kind of fortified carriage, with a ready rescuing of a
man's self from scorns, is sometimes of necessity im-
posed upon men by somewhat in their person or
fortune, but it ever succeeded! with good felicity.

Another precept of this knowledge is, by all pos-
sible endeavour to frame the mind to be pliant and
obedient to occasion ;' for nothing hindereth mens
fortunes so much as this : Idem manebat, neque idem
dccebat. Men are where they were, when occasions
turn ; and therefore to Cato, whom Livy maketh such
an architect of fortune, he addeth, that he had versa-
tile ingenium. And thereof it cometh, that these
grave solemn wits, which must be like themselves,
and cannot make departures, have more dignity than
felicity. But in some it is nature to be somewhat
viscous and in wrapped, and not easy to turn. In
some it is a conceit, that is almost a nature, which
is, that men can hardly make themselves believe
that they ought to change their course, when they
have found good by it in former experience ; for
Machiavel noteth wisely, how Fabius Maximus would
have been temporizing still, according to his old bias,
when the nature of the war was altered, and required
hot pursuit. In some other it is want of point und
penetration in their judgment, that they do not
discern when things have a period, but come in too
late after the occasion ; as Demosthenes compareth
the people of Athens to country fellows, when they
play in a fence school, that, if they have a blow, then
they remove the weapon to that ward, and not be-
fore. In some other it is a Jothness to lose labours
passed, and a conceit that they can bring about oc-
casions to their ply; and yet in the end, when they
see no other remedy, then they come to it with disad-
vantage ; as Tarquiuius, that gave tor the third part of
Sibyla's book the treble price, when he might at first
have had all three for the simple. But from whatso-

210 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

ever root or cause tbk restiveness of mind proceedeth,
it is a thing most prejudicial, and nothing is more
politic than to make the wheels of out mind con*
centric and voluble with the wheels of fortune*

Another precept of this knowledge, which hath
some affinity with that we last spoke of, but with dif-
ference, is that which is well expressed, fat is accede
deisque, that men do not only turn with the occasions,
but also run with the occasions, and not strain their
credit or strength to over-hard or extreme points -, but
choose in their actions that which is most passable :
for this will preserve men from foil, not occupy them
too much about one matter, win opinion of modera-
tion, please the most, and make a shew of a perpetual
felicity in all they undertake ; which cannot but
mightily increase reputation.

Another part of this knowledge seemeth to have
some repugnancy with the former two, but not as I
understand it, and it is that which^ Demosthenes ut-
tereth in high terms : Et quemadmo'ditm receptiun est,
ut exercitum ducat imperator, sic et ci cordatis riris res
ipste ducendcc / ut qu<z ipsis videntur, ea gerantur, et
non ipsi eventus tantwn persequi cagantur. For, if we
observe, we shall rind two differing kinds of suffi-
ciency in managing of business : some can make use
of occasions aptly and dextrously, but plot little :
some can urge and pursue their own plots well, but
cannot accommodate nor take in ; either of which is
very imperfect without the other.

Another part of this knowledge is the observing a
.good mediocrity in the declaring, or not declaring
a man's self: for although depth of secrecy, and
making way, quails est via navis in mari, which the
French calleth soiirdcs menees, when men set things in
work without opening themselves at all, be some-
times both prosperous and admirable, yet many times
Dissimulatio errores parit, qui dissimulalorem ipsum
ittaqitcant. And therefore, we see, the greatest po-
liticians have in a natural and free manner professed
their desires, rather than been reserved and disguised
in them : for so we see that Lucius Scilla made a kind

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 211

of profession, " that he wished all men happy or un-
" happy, as they stood his friends or enemies." So
Caesar, when he first went into Gaul, made no scruple
to profess, " that he had rather be first in a village,
than second at Rome." So again, as soon as he had
begun the war, we sec what Cicero saith of him,
Alter, meaning of Cxsar, non rccusat, sed quodammodo
postulat, ut, ut est sic appelletur tyranrius. So we may
see in a letter of Cicero to Atticus, that Augustus
Ca3sar, in his very entrance into affairs, when he was
a darling of the senate, yet in his harangues to the
people would swear : Ita par ends honor cs conseqid
liccat, which was no less than the tyranny, save that,
to help it, he would stretch forth his hand towards a
statue of Caesar's, that was erected in the place : and
men laughed, and wondered, and said,' Is it possible,
or did you ever hear the like ? and yet thought he
meant no hurt, he did it so handsomely and in-
genuously. And all these were prosperous : whereas
Pompey, who tended to the same end, but in a more
dark and dissembling manner, as Tacitus saith of
him, Occiddor, non melior, wherein Sallust concurretb,
ore probo, animo inverecundoy made it his design, by
infinite secret engines, to cast the state into1 an abso-
lute anarchy and confusion, that the state might cast
itself into his arms for necessity and protection, and
so the sovereign power be put upon him, and he never
seen in it : and when he had brought it, as bethought,
•to that point when he was chosen consul alone, as
never any was, yet he could make no great matter of it,
because men understood him not ; but was fain in the
end to go the beaten track of getting arms into his
hands, by colour of the doubt or Caesar's designs : so
tedious, casual, and unfortunate are these deep dissi-
mulations ; whereof, it secmeth, Tacitus made this
judgment, that they were a cunning of an inferior
form in regard of true policy, attributing the one to
Augustus, the other to Tiberius, where, speaking of
Livia, he saith, Ef cum artibus marid, simulation?
filii bene composita ; for surely the continual habit of
"dissimulation is but a weak and sluggish cunning,
and not greatly politic.

212 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book I L

Another precept of this architecture of fortune is,
to accustom our minds to judge of the proportion or
value of things, as they conduce and are material to
our particular ends ; and that to do substantially and
not superficially. For we shall find the logical part,
as I may term it, of some mens minds good, but the
mathematical part erroneous; that is, they can Well
judge of consequences, but not of proportions and
comparisons, preferring things of shew and sense be-
fore things of substance and effect. So some fall in
love with access to princes, others with popular fame
and applause, supposing they are things of great pur-
chase ; when in, many cases, they are but matters of
envy, peril, and impediment.

So some measure things according to the labor
and difficulty, o assiduity, which are spent about
them; and thirL if they be ever moving, that they
must needs advance and proceed: as Caesar saith in
a despising manner of Cato the second, when he des-
cribeth how laborious and indefatigable he was to
no great purpose ; Haec omnia magno studio agebat.
So in most things men are ready to abuse themselves
in thinking the greatest means to be best, when it
should be the fittest.

As for the true marshalling of mens pursuits to-
wards their fortune, as they are more or less material,
I hold them to stand thus: first, the amendment of
their own minds ; for the remove of the impediments
of the mind will sooner clear the passages of fortune,
than the obtaining fortune will remove the impedi-
ments of the mind. In the second place I set down
wealth and means, which, I know, most men would
have placed first, because of the general use which
it beareth towards all variety of occasions. But that
opinion I may condemn with like reason as Machi-
avcl doth that other, that moneys were the sinews of
the wars, whereas, saith he, the true sinews of the
wars are the sinews of men's arms, that is, a valiant/
populous, and military nation; and he voucheth aptly
the authority of Solon, who when Croesus shewed
him his treasury of gold, said to him, that if ano-

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 213

ther came that had better iron, he would be master
of his gold. In like manner it may be truly af-
firmed, that it is not moneys that are the sinews of
fortune, but it is the sinews and steel of mens minds,
wit, courage, audacity, resolution, temper, industry,
and the like. In the third place I set down reputa-
tion, because of the peremptory tides and currents it
hath, which if they be not taken in their due time*
are seldom recovered, it being extreme hard to play
an after-game of reputation. And lastly I place ho-
nour, which is more easily won by any of the other
three, much mote by all, than any of them can be
purchased by honour. To conclude this precept, as
there is order and priority in matter, so is there in
time, the preposterous placing whereof is one of the
commonest errors, while men fly to their ends when
they should intend their beginnings ; and do not take
things in order of time as they come on, but marshal
them according to greatness, and not according to in-
stance, not observing the good precept* Quod mine
ins tat agamuS;

Another precept of this knowledge is, not to em-
brace any matters which do occupy too great a quan-
tity of timej but to have that sounding in a man's
ears, Sed fugit interea9fugit irreparabile tempus : and
that is the cause why those which take their course
of rising by professions of burden, as lawyers, orators,
painful divines, and the like, are not commonly so
politic for their own fortune, otherwise than in their
ordinary way> because they want time to learn parti-
culars, to wait occasions, and to devise plots.

Another precept of this knowledge is, to imitate
nature, which doth nothing in vain ; which surely a
man may do if he do well interlace his business, and
bend not his mind too much upon that which he
principally intendeth. For a man ought in every par-
ticular action so to carry the motions of his mind, and
so to have one thing under another, as if he cannot
have that he seeketh in the best degree, yet to have it
in a second, or so in a third ; and if he can have no
part of that which he purposed, yet to turn the use of

VOL. i. p

214- Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

it to somewhat else ; and if he cannot make any
tiling of it for the present, yet to make it as a seed of
somewhat in time to come ; and if he can contrive no
effect or substance from it, yet to win some good
opinion by it, or the like. So that he should exact
an account of himself of every action, to reap some-
what, and not to stand amazed and confused if he fail
of that he chiefly meant : for nothing is more im-
politic than to mind actions wholly one by one ; for
he that doth so, loseth infinite occasions which inter-
vene, and arc many times more proper and propitious
for somewhat that he shall need afterwards, than for
that wruch he urgeth for the present ; and therefore
men must be perfect in that rule^IItfc opor let facer e>
et ilia non omittere.

Another precept of this knowledge is, not to en-
gage a man's self peremptorily in any thing, though it
seem not liable to accident, but ever to have a win-
dow to fly out at, or a way to retire ; following the
wisdom in the ancient fable of the two frogs, which
consulted when their plash was dry whither they
should go, and the one moved to go down into a pit,
because it was not likely the water would dry there,
but the other answered, " True, but if it do, how
shall we get out again ?"

Another precept ot this knowledge is, that ancient
precept of Bias, construed not to any point of per-
fidiousness, but only to caution and moderation, Et
ama tanquam inimicus futurus, et odi tanquam ama-
turus : for it utterly betrayeth all utility for men to
embark themselves too far in unfortunate friendships,
troublesome spleens, and childish and humorous envies
or emulations.

But I continue this beyond the measure of an
example, led, because I would not have such know-
ledges, which I note as deficient, to be thought things
imaginative, or in the air ; or an observation or two
much made of, but things of bulk and mass, whereof
an end is hardlier made than a beginning. It must be
likewise conceived that in those points which I
mention and set. down, they are far from complete

Book II. ] Of the Advancement of Learning* 2 1 5

tractates of them, but only as small pieces for pat-
terns : and lastly, no man, I suppose, will think that
I mean fortunes are not obtained without all this
ado ; for I know they come tumbling into some mens
laps, and a number obtain good fortunes by diligence
in a plain way, little intermeddling, and keeping
themselves from gross errors.

But as Cicero, when he setteth down an idea of a
perfect orator, doth not mean that every pleader
should be such ; and so likewise, when a prince or a
courtier hath been described by such as have handled
those subjects, the mould hath used to be made ac-
cording to the perfection of the art, and not accord-
ing to common practice : so I understand it, that it
ought to be done in the description of a politic man,
I mean politic for his own fortune.

But it must be remembered all this while, that the
precepts which we have set down are of that kind
which may be counted and called bon<£ artes. As
for evil arts> if a man would set down for himself
that principle of Machiavel ; " that a man seek not
" to attain virtue itself, but the appearance only
<€ thereof; because the credit of virtue is a help, but
" the use of it is cumber:" or that other of his prin-
ciples ; " that he presuppose that men are not fitly to
<c be wrought otherwise but by fear, and therefore
" that he seek to have every man obnoxious, low,
" and in strait," which the Italians call seminar spine,
to sow thorns : or that other principle contained in
the verse which Cicero citeth, Cadant amici, dummodo
inimid intertidant, as the Triumvirs, which sold,
every one to other, the lives of their friends, for the
deaths of their enemies : or that other protestation of
L. Catilina, to set on fire, and trouble states, to the
end to fish in droumy waters, and to unwrap their
fortunes, Ego si quid in fortunis meis exdtatum sit in-
cendium, id non aqua, sed ruina rcstinguam: or that
other principle of Lysander, " that children are to be
<c deceived with comfits, and men with oaths:" and
the like evil and corrupt positions, whereof, as in all
things, there are more in number than of the good :

P 2

216 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IT.

certainly, with these dispensations from the laws of
charity and integrity, the pressing of a man's fortune
may be more hasty and compendious. But it is in
life, as it is in ways, the shortest way is commonly
the foulest> and surely the fairer way is not much
-.. about.

But men, if they be in their own power, and do
bear and sustain themselves, and be not carried away
with a whirlwind or tempest of ambition, ought, in
the pursuit of their own fortune, to set before their
eyes, not only that general map of the world, that all
things are vanity and vexation of spirit, but many
other more particular cards and directions: chiefly
that, that being, without well-being, is a curse, and
the greater being the greater curse ; and that all
virtue is most rewarded, and all wickedness most
punished in itself: according as the poet saith ex-
cellently :

Qnce vobis qute digna vin\ pro laudibus istis
Prccmia posse rear solvi? pulcherrima primum
Dii mores que dabunt veslri*

And so of the contrary. And, secondly, they ought
to look up to the eternal providence and divine judg-
ment, which often subverteth the wisdom of evil
plots and imaginations, according to that Scripture,
He hath conceived mischief, and shall bring forth a
vain thing. And although men should refrain them-
selves from injury and evil arts, yet this incessant
and Sabbathless pursuit of a man's fortune leaverh not
that tribute which we owe to God of our time : who,
we see, demandeth a tenth of our substance, and
a seventh, which is more strict, of our time : and
it is to small purpose to have an erected face towards
heaven, and a perpetual groveling spirit upon earth,
eating dust, as doth the serpent, Atque affigii humo
divbhc particulam aura. And if any man flatter him-
self that he will employ his fortune well, though he
should obtain it ill, as was said concerning Augustus
Czesar, and after of Septimius Severus, " that either
" they should never have been born, or else they
" should never have died," they did so much mischief

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 217

in the pursuit and ascent of their greatness, and so
much good when they were established : yet these
compensations and satisfactions are good to be used,
but never good to be purposed. And, lastly, it is
not amiss for men in their race towards their fortune,
to cool themselves a little with that conceit which is
elegantly expressed by the emperor Charles the fifth,
in his instructions to the king his son, " that fortune
" hath somewhat of the nature of a woman, that if
" she be too much wooed, she is the farther off."
But this last is but a remedy for those whose tastes
are corrupted ; Jet men rather build upon that founda-
tion which is as a corner-stone of divinity and philo-
sophy, wherein they join close, namely, that same
Primum qiuerite. For divinity saith, Pritnum qiucrite
reguum Dei, ct uta omnia adjicientur vobis : and philo-
sophy saith, Primum quacrite bona animiy cetera aut
aderunt, aut non oberunt. And although the human
foundation hath somewhat of the sands, as we see ia
M. Brutus, when he brake forth in that speech,

Te colui, virtus, ut rem : ast tu nomcn inane es :
yet the divine foundation is upon the rock. But this
may serve for a taste of that knowledge which I noted
as deficient.

Concerning Government, it is a part of knowledge,
secret and retired in both these respects, in which
things are deemed secret ; for some things are secret
because they are hard to know, and some because they
are not fit to utter; we see all governments are ob-
scure and invisible.

Totamque infusa per arlus,

Mens agilat molem, ct magno sc corpore miscet.
Such is the description of governments : we see the
government of God over the world is hidden, inso-
much as it seemeth to participate of much irregularity
and confusion : the government of the soul in moving
the body is inward and profound, and the passages
thereof hardly to be reduced to demonstration. Again,
the wisdom of antiquity, the shadows whereof are in
the poets, in the description of torments and pains,
next unto the crime of rebellion, which was the giants

218 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

-offence, doth detest the crime of futility, as in Sisy-
phus and Tantalus. But this was meant of particu-
lars ; nevertheless even unto the general rules and
discourses of policy and government there is due a
reverent and reserved handling,

But, contrariwise, in the governors towards the
governed, all things ought, as far as the frailty of
man permitteth, to be manifest and revealed. For
so it is expressed in the Scriptures touching the go-
vernment of God, that this globe which seemeth to
us a dark and shady body, is in the view of God as
crystal, Et in conspectu sedis tanqnam mare vitreum
simile crystallo. So unto princes and states, specially
towards wise senates and councils, the natures and
dispositions of the people, their conditions and ne-
cessities, their factions and combinations, their ani-
mosities and discontents, ought to be, in regard of
the variety of their intelligences, the wisdom of their
observations, and the height of the station, where
they keep centinel, in great part clear and transpa-
rent. Wherefore, considering that I write to a king
that is a master of this science, and is so well assisted,
I think it decent to pass over this part in silence, as
willing to obtain the certificate which one of the
ancient philosophers aspired unto 3 who being silent
when others contended to make demonstration of
their abilities by speech, desired it might be certified
for his part, " that there was one that knew how to
" hold his peace.''

Notwithstanding, for the more public part of go-
vernment, which is laws, I think good to note only
one deficiency : which is, that all those which have
written of laws, have written either as philosophers,
or as lawyers, and none as statesmen. As for the
philosophers, they make imaginary laws for imaginary
commonwealths, and their discourses are as the stars,
which give little light, because they are so high.
For the lawyers, they write according to the states
where they live, what is received law, and not what
ought to be law ; for the wisdom of a lawmaker is one,
and of a lawyer is another. For there are in nature

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. t2 1 9

certain fountains of justice, whence all civil laws
are derived but as streams: and like as waters do take
tinctures and tastes from the soils through which they
run, so do civil laws vary according to the regions
and governments where they are planted, though
they proceed from the same fountains. Again, the
wisdom of a lawmaker consisteth not only in a
platform of justice, but in the application thereof;
taking into consideration, by what means laws may
be made certain, and what are the causes and reme-
dies of the doubtfulness and incertainty of law; by
what means laws may be made apt and easy to be
executed, and what are the impediments and re-
medies in the execution of laws ; what influence laws
touching private right of inemn and tuum have into
the public state, and how they may be made apt and
agreeable ; how laws are to be penned and delivered,
whether in texts or in acts, brief or large, with pre-
ambles, or without ; how they are to be pruned and
reformed from time to time, and what is the best
means to keep them from being too vast in volumes,
or too full of multiplicity and crossness ; how they are
to be expounded, when upon causes emergent and
judicially discussed ; and when 'upon responses and
conferences touching general points or questions ;
how they are to be pressed rigorously or tenderly ;
how they are to be mitigated by equity and good
conscience, and whether discretion and strict law
are to be mingled in the same courts, or kept apart in
several courts ; again, how the practice, profession, Dc rru
and erudition of law is to be censured and o-

verned ; and many other points touching: the admi- sive de

i JT • r i fontibus

nistration, and, as I may term it, animation ot laws. juris.
Upon which I insist the less, because 1 propose, if
God give me leave, having begun a good work of this
nature, in aphorisms, to propound it hereafter, noting
it in the mean time for deficient.

And for your majesty's laws of England, I could
say much of their dignity, and somewhat of their de-
fect ; but they cannot but excel the civil laws in
fitness for .the government; for the civil law was,

22Q Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book IL

Non hos qiHcsitum manus in usus ; it was not made
for the countries which it governeth : hereof I cease
to speak, because I will not intermingle matter of
action with matter of general learning.

THUS have I concluded this portion of learning
touching civil knowledge, and with civil knowledge
have concluded human philosophy; and with human
philosophy, philosophy in general ; and being now at
some pause, looking back into that I have passed
through, this writing seemeth to me, si nunquam
fallit imago, as far as a man can judge of his own
work, not much better than that noise or sound which
musicians make while they are in tuning their instru-
ments, which is nothing pleasant to hear, but yet is a
cause why the music is sweeter afterwards. So have I
been content to tune the instruments of the muses,
that they may play that have better hands. And
surely, when I set before me the condition of these
times, in which learning hath made her third yisita?
tion or circuit in all the qualities thereof; as the
excellency and vivacity of the wits of this age; the
noble helps and lights which we have by the travels
of ancient writers; the art of printing, which com-
rnunicateth books to men of all fortunes; the open-
ness of the world by navigation, which hath disclosed
multitudes of experiments, and a mass of natural
history: the leisure wherewith these times abound,
not employing men so generally in civil business, as
. the states of Graecia did, in respect of their popularity,
and the state of Rome in respect of the greatness of
their monarchy; the present disposition of these
times at this instant to peace; the consumption of all
that ever can be said in controversies of religion,
which have so much diverted men from other
sciences ; the perfection of your majesty's learning,
which as a phoenix may call whole vollies of wits
to follow you ; and the inseparable propriety of time,
which is ever more and more to disclose truth; I
cannot but be raised to this persuasion, that this third
period of time will far surpass that of the Grecian

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 221

and Roman learning: only if men will know their
own strength, and their own weakness both ; and take
one from the other, light of invention, and not fire
of contradiction; and esteem of the inquisition of
truth, as of an enterprise, and not as of a quality or
ornament; and employ wit and magnificence to
things qf worth and excellency, and not to things vul-
gar and of popular estimation. As for my labours, if
any man shall please himself, or others, in the repre-
hension of them, they shall make that ancient and
patient request, Verbera,sedaudi. Let men reprehend
them, so they observe and weigh them. For the ap-
peal is lawful, though it may be it shall not be need-
ful, from the first cogitations of men to their second,
and from the nearer times to the times farther off.
Now let us come to that learning, which both the
former times were not so blessed as to know, sacred
and inspired Divinity, the sabbath and port of all
mens labours and peregrinations.

THE prerogative of God extendeth as well to the
reason, as to the will of man ; so that as we are to
obey his law, though we find a reluctation in our will ;
so we are to believe his word, though we find a re-
luctation in our reason. For if we believe only that
which is agreeable to our sense, we give consent to
the matter, and not to the author, which is no more
than we would do towards a suspected and discredited
witness : but that faith which was accounted to Abra-
ham for righteousness, was of such a point, as whereat
Sarah laughed, who therein was an image of natural
reason.

Howbeit, if we will truly consider it, more worthy
it is to believe than to know as we now know. For
in knowledge man's mind suffereth from sense, but
in belie^" it suffereth from spirit, such one as it hold-
eth for more authorised than itself; and so suffereth
from the worthier agent. Otherwise it is of the state
pf man glorified, for then faith shall cease, and we
shall know as we are known.

Wherefore we conclude, that sacred theology,

Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

which in our idiom we call divinity, is grounded only
upon the word and oracle of God, and not upon the
light of nature : for it is written, C&li enarrant gloriam
Dei : but it is not written, Cecil enarrant voluntatem
Dei: hut of that it is said, Ad legem et testimonium,
si non fecerint secundum verbum istud, etc. This hold-
eth not only in those points of faith which concern
the great mysteries of the Deity, of the creation, of
the redemption, but likewise those which concern
the law moral truly interpreted ; Love your enemies :
do good to them that hate yon : be like to your heavenly
Father, that suffereth his rain to fall upon the just
and unjust. To this it ought to be applauded, Nee
vox hominem sonat, it is a voice beyond the light of
nature. So we see the heathen poets, when they
fail upon a libertine passion, do still expostulate
with laws and moralities, as if they were opposite
and malignant to nature; Et quod natura remittity
Invida jura negant. So said Dentlamis the Indian
unto Alexander's messengers ; " That he had heard
" somewhat of Pythagoras, and some other of the
" wise men of Grsecia, and that he held them for
" excellent men : but that they had a fault, which
" was, that they had in too great reverence and ve-
" neration a thing they called law and manners."
So it must be confessed that a great part of the law
moral is of that perfection, whereunto the light of
nature cannot aspire : how then is it, that man is said
to have, by the light and law of nature, some no-
tions and conceits of virtue and vice, justice and
wrong, good and evil? Thus, because the light of na-
ture is used in two several senses ; the one, that which
springeth from reason, sense, induction, argument,
according to the laws of heaven and earth ; the other,
that which is imprinted upon the spirit of man by an
inward instinct, according to the law of conscience,
which is a sparkle of the purity of his first estate : in
which latter sense only he is participant of some light
and discerning touching the perfection of the moral
Jaw : but how ? Sufficient to check the vice, but nat
to inform the duty. So then the doctrine of religion,

Book i;

us well

Book II,] Of the Advancement of Learning. 223

as well moral as mystical, is not to be attained, but
by inspiration and revelation from God.

The use, notwithstanding, of reason, in spiritual
things, and the latitude thereof, is very great and
general ; for it is not for nothing that the apostle
calleth religion our reasonable service of God, inso-
much as the very ceremonies and figures of the old
law were full of reason and signification, much more
than the ceremonies of idolatry and magic, that are
full of non-significants and surd characters. But
most especially the Christian faith, as in all things, so
in this, deserveth to be highly magnified, holding
and preserving the golden mediocrity in this point,
between the law of the heathen, and the law of
Mahomet, which have embraced the two extremes.
For the religion of the heathen had no constant be-
lief or confession, but left all to the liberty of argu-
ment ; and the religion of Mahomet, on the other
side, interdicteth argument altogether : the one having
the very face of error, and the other of imposture ;
whereas the faith doth both admit and reject dis-
putation with difference.

The use of human reason in religion is of two
sorts : the former, in the conception and apprehen-
sion of the mysteries of God to us revealed ; the
other, in the inferring and deriving of doctrine and
direction thereupon. The former extendeth to the
mysteries themselves ; but how ? By way of illustra-
tion, and not by way of argument. The latter con-
sisteth indeed of probation and argument. In the
former, we see, God vouchsafed! to descend to our
capacity, in the expressing of his mysteries in such
sort as may be sensible unto us; and doth graft his
revelations and holy doctrine upon the notions of
our reason, and applieth his inspirations to open our
understanding, as the form of the key to the ward of
the Jock. For the latter there is allowed us an use
of reason and argument, secondary and respective,
although not original and absolute. For after the
articles and principles of religion are placed and ex-
empted from examination of reason, it is then per-

224 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II,

rnitted unto us to make derivations and inferences
from, and according to the analogy of them, for our
better direction. In nature this holdeth not, for
both the principles are examinable by induction,
though not by a medium or syllogism ; and, besides,
those principles or first positions have no discord-
ance with that reason, which draweth down and de-
duceth the inferior positions. But yet it holdeth not
in religion alone, but in many knowledges, both of
greater and smaller nature, namely, wherein there
are not only positq, but placita s for in such there can
be no use of absolute reason : we see it familiarly in
games of wit, as chess, or the like ; the draughts
and first laws of the game are positive, but how ?
Merely ad placitum, and not examjnable by reason :
but then how to direct our play thereupon with best
advantage to win the game, is artificial and rational.
So in human laws, there be many grounds and max-
ims, which are placita juris „ positive upon authority,
and not upon reason, and therefore not to be dis-
puted : but what is most just, not absolutely, but re-
latively and according to those maxims,, that afford^
eth a long field of disputation. Such therefore is that
secondary reason, which hath place in divinity, \vhich
is grounded upon the placets of God.

Here therefore I note this deficiency, that there
hath not been, to my understanding, sufficiently inT
quired and handled the true limits and use of reason

in cuvmis. • . . . . . '...•/.,.. m» i

in spiritual things, as a kind of divine dialectic :
which for that it is not done, it seemeth to me a
thing usual, by pretext of true conceiving that which
is revealed, to search and mine into that which is
not revealed, and, by pretext of enucleating infer-
ences and contradictories, to examine that which is
positive : the one sort falling into the error of Nico-
demus, demanding to have things made more sen-
sible than it pleaseth God to reveal them, Qucmodp
possit homo nasci cum sit senex ? the other sort into
the error of the disciples, which were scandalized at
a shew of contradiction, Quid est hoc, quod dicit no-
bis ? Modicum et -non videbitis me, et itcnun modicum,
tt videbitis mt\ etc.

is

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

Upon this I have insisted the more, in regard of
the great and blessed use thereof; for this point,
well laboured and defined of, would, in my judg-
ment, be an opiate to stay and bridle not only the
vanity of curious speculations, wherewith the schools
labor, but the fury of controversies, wherewith the
church laboureth. For it cannot but open mens
eyes, to see that many controversies do merely per-
tain to that which is either not revealed* or positive,
and that many others do grow upon weak and ob-
scure inferences or derivations ; which latter sort, if
men would revive the blessed stile of that great
doctor of the Gentiles, would be carried thus ; E$o,
non Dominus ; and again, Secundum eonsilium meum ;
in opinions and counsels, and not in positions and
oppositions. But men are now over-ready to usurp
the stile, Non ego, sed Dominus ; and not so only,
but to bind it with the thunder and denunciation of
curses and anathemas, to the terror of those which
have not sufficiently learned out of Solomon, that the
causeless curse shall not come.

Divinity hath two principal parts j the matter in-
formed or revealed, and the nature of the informa-
tion or revelation : and with the latter we will begin,
because it hath most coherence with that which we
have now last handled. The nature of the informa-
tion consisteth of three branches ; the limits of the
information, the sufficiency of the information, and
the acquiring or obtaining the information. Unto
the limits of the information, belong these considera-
tions ; how far forth particular persons continue to
be inspired ; how far forth the church is inspired ;
and how far forth reason may be used : the last point
whereof I have noted as deficient. Unto the suffici-
ency of the information belong two considerations ;
what points of religion are fundamental, and what
perfective, being matter of farther building and per-
fection upon one and the same foundation ; and
again, how the gradations of light, according to the
dispensation of times, are material to the sufficiency
of belief.

tatis in
civitate
Dei.

226 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

bus5imf.- Here again I may rather give it in advice, than
note it as deficient, that the points fundamental, and
the points of farther perfection only ought to be with
piety and wisdom distinguished ; a subject tending
to much like end, as that I noted before ; for as that
other were likely to abate the number of controver-
sies, so this is like to abate the heat of many of them,
We see Moses when he saw the Israelite and the
/Egyptian fight, he did not say, Why strive you? but
drew his sword and slew the ^Egyptian : but when
he saw the two Israelites fight, he said, You are
brethren, why strive you ? If the point of doctrine be
an Egyptian, it must be slain by the sword of the
Spirit, and not reconciled: but if it be an Israelite,
though in the wrong, then. Why strive you ? We see
of the fundamental points, our Saviour penneth the
league thus, He that is not with us, is against us ; but
of points not fundamental, thus ; He that is not against
us, is with us. So we see the coat of our Saviour was
intire without seam, and so is the doctrine of the
Scriptures in itself; but the garment of the church
was of divers colours, and yet not divided : we see
the chaff may and ought to be severed from the corn
in the ear, but the tares may not be pulled up from
the corn in the field. So as it is a thing of great use
well to define, what, and of what latitude those
points are, which do make men merely aliens and
disincorporate from the church of God.

For the obtaining of the information, it resteth
upon the true and sound interpretation of the Scrip-
tures, which are the fountains of the water of lite.
The interpretations of the Scriptures are of two sorts:
methodical, and solute or at large. For this divine
water, which excelleth so much that of Jacob's well,
is drawn forth much in the same kind, as natural
water useth to be out of wells and fountains ; either
it is first forced up into a cistern, and from thence
fetched and derived for use ; or else it is drawn
and received in buckets and vessels immediately
where it springe th. The former sort whereof, though
it seem to be the more ready, yet, in my judgment,

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 227

is more subject to corrupt. This is that method
which hath exhibited unto us the scholastical divi-
nity, whereby divinity hath been reduced into an
art, as into a cistern, and the streams of doctrine or
positions fetched and derived from thence.

In this men have sought three things, a summary
brevity, a compacted strength, and a complete per-
fection ; whereof the two first they fail to find, and
the last they ought not to seek. For as to brevity,
we see, in all summary methods, while men purpose
to abridge, they give cause to dilate. For the sum,
or abridgment, by contraction becometh obscure ;
the obscurity requireth exposition, and the exposition
is deduced into large commentaries, or into common
places and titles, which grow to be more vast than
the original writings, whence the sum was at first
extracted. So, we see, the volumes of the schoolmen
are greater much than the first writings of the fathers,
whence the master of the sentences made his sum or
collection. So, in like manner, the volumes of the
modern doctors of the civil law exceed those of the
ancient jurisconsults, of which Trebonian compiled
the digest. So as this course of sums and commen-
taries is that which doth infallibly make the body of
sciences more immense in quantity, and more base
in substance.

And for strength, it is true, that knowledges re-
duced into exact methods have a shew of strength,
in that each part seemeth to support and sustain the
other ; but this is more satisfactory than substantial ;
like unto buildings which stand by architecture and
compaction, which are more subject to ruin, than
those that are built more strong in their several parts,
though less compacted. But it is plain, that the
more you recede from your grounds, the weaker do
you conclude : and as in nature, the more you re-
move yourself from particulars, the greater peril of
error you do incur ; so much more in divinity, the
more you recede from the Scriptures, by inferences
and consequences, the more weak and dilute are your
positions.

228 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

And as for perfection, or completeness in divinity,
it is not to be sought ; which makes this course of
artificial divinity the more suspect. For he that will
reduce a knowledge into an art, will make it round
and uniform : but, in divinity, many things must be
left abrupt and concluded with this : O alfitudo sa-
pientice ct scientiac Dei ! quam incomprehensibitia suni
judjcia ejus, et non investigabiles vice cjus ? So again
the apostle saith Ex juirle scimits ; and to have the
form of a total, where there is but matter for a part^
cannot be without supplies by supposition and pre-
sumption. And therefore I conclude, that the true
use of these sums and methods hath place in institu-
tions or introductions preparatory unto knowledge 5
but in them, or by deducement from them, to handle
the main body and substance of a knowledge^ is in
all sciences prejudicial, and in divinity dangerous.

As to the interpretation of the Scriptures solute
and at large, there have been divers kinds introduced
and devised ; some of them rather curious and unsafe*
than sober and warranted. Notwithstanding, thus
much must be confessed, that the Scriptures being
given by inspiration, and not by human reason, do
differ from all other books in the author ; which by
consequence doth draw on some difference to be used
by the expositor. For the inditer of them did know
four things which no man attains to know ; which
are, the mysteries of the kingdom of glory, the per-
fection of the laws of nature, the secrets of the heart
of man, and the future succession of all ages. For
as to the first, it is said, He that presseth into the light,
shall be oppressed of the glory. And again, No man
shall see my face and lire. To the second, When he
prepared the heavens I teas present, when by laic and
compass he inclosed the deep. To the third, Neither
was it needful that any should bear witness to him of
man, for he knew well what ivas in num. And to the
last, From the beginning are known to the Lord all
his works.

From the former of these two have been drawn
certain senses and expositions of Scriptures., which

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 229

had need be contained within the bounds of sobriety;
the one anagogical, and the other philosophical. But
as to the former, man is not to prevent his time ;
Videmiis nunc per speculum in tenigmate, tune autem
facie adfaciem ; wherein, nevertheless, there seemeth
to be a liberty granted, as far forth as the polishing of
this glass, or some moderate explication of this enigma^
l3ut to press too far into itj cannot but cause a disso-
lution and overthrow of the spirit of man : for in the
body there are three degrees of that we receive into itj
aliment, medicine^ and poison; whereof aliment is
that which the nature of man can perfectly alter and
overcome ; medicine is that which is partly converted
by nature, and partly converteth nature ; and poison
is that which worketh wholly upon nature, without
that, that nature can in any part work upon it ; so in
the mind, whatsoever knowledge reason cannot at all
work upon and convert, is a mere intoxication, and
indangereth a dissolution of the mind and under-
standing.

But for the latter, it hath been extremely set on foot
of late time by the school of Paracelsus, and some
others, that have pretended to find the truth of all
natural philosophy in the Scriptures; scandalizing
and traducing all other philosophy as heathenish
and profane. But there is no such enmity be-
tween God's word and his works ; neither do they
give honour to the Scriptures, as they suppose, but
much imbase them. For to seek heaven and earth
in the word of God, whereof it is said, heaven and
earth shall pass, but my word shall not pass, is to seek
temporary things amongst eternal ; and as to seek
divinity in philosophy, is to seek the living amongst
the dead ; so to seek philosophy in divinity, is to
seek the dead amongst the living; neither are the
pots or lavers, whose place was in -the outward part
of the temple, to be sought in the holiest place or all,
where the ark of the testimony was seated. And
again, the scope or purpose of the Spirit of God is not
to express matters of nature in the Scriptures, other-
wise than in passage, and for application to man's

VOL. I. Q

2 SO Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

capacity, and to matters moral or divine. And it is
a true rule, Auctoris aliud agentis parva auctoritas :
for it were a strange conclusion, if a man should use
a similitude for ornament or illustration sake, bor-
rowed from nature or history according to vulgar
conceit, as of a basilisk, an unicorn, a centaur, a
Briareus, an Hydra, or the like, that therefore he
must needs be thought to affirm the matter thereof,
positively to be true. To conclude therefore, these
two interpretations, the one by reduction or enig-
matical, the other philosophical or physical, which
have been received and pursued in imitation of the
rabbins and cabalists, are to be confined with a noli
altum sapere, scd time.

But the two latter points, known to God, and un-
known to man, touching the secrets of the heart, and
the successions of time, do make a just and sound dif-
ference between the manner of the exposition of the
Scriptures and all other books. For it is an excellent
observation which hath been made upon the answers
of our Saviour Christ to many of the questions which
were propounded to him, how that they are imperti-
nent to the state of the question demanded ; the rea-
son whereof is, because not being like man, which
knows man's thoughts by his words, but knowing
man's thoughts immediately, he never answered their
words but their thoughts; much in the like manner it
is with the Scriptures, which being written to the
thoughts of men, and to the succession of all ages,
with a foresight of all heresies, contradictions, dif-
fering estates of the church, yea and particularly of
the elect, are not to be interpreted only according
to the latitude of the proper sense of the place, and
respectively towards that present occasion, whereupon
the words were uttered, or in precise congruity or con-
texture with the words before or after, or in con-
templation of the principal scope of the place ; but
have jn themselves, not only totally or collectively,
hut distrjbutively rn clauses and words, infinite springs
and streams of doctrine to water the church in every
part ; and therefore as the literal sense is, as it were.

Book II; J Of the Advancement of Learning.

the main stream or river, so the moral sense chiefly^
and sometimes the allegorical of typical, are they
whereof the church hath most use ; not that I wish
men to be bold in allegories, or indulgent or light
in allusions; but that I do much condemn that in-
terpretation of the Scripture, which is only after the
manner as men use to interpret a profane book.

In this part, touching the exposition of the Scrip-
tures, I can report no deficience ; but by way of re-
membrance, this I will add, in perusing bo6ks of di-
vinity, 1 find many books of controversies, and many
of common places, and treatises, a mass of positive
divinity as it is made an art; a number of sermons
and lectures, and many prolix commentaries upon
the Scriptures, with harmonies and concordances :
but that form of writing in divinity, which in my
judgment is of all others most rich and precious, is
positive divinity, collected upon particular texts of
Scriptures in brief observations, not dilated into com-
mon places; not chasing after controversies, not re-
duced into method of art ; a thing abounding in ser-
mons, which will vanish, but defective in books
which will remain, and a thing wherein this age
excelleth . For I am persuaded, and 1 may speak it
with an Absit invidia verbo, and no ways in deroga-
tion of antiquity, but as in a good emulation between
the vine and the olive, that if the choice and best of
those observations upon texts of Scriptures, which
have been made dispersedly in sermons within this
your majesty 's island of Britain, by the space of these
forty years and more, leaving out the largeness of ex-
hortations and applications thereupon, had been set
down in a continuance, it had been the best work
in divinity * which had been written since the apostles
times.

The matter informed by divinity is of two kinds ;
matter of belief, and truth of opinion ; and matter of
service and adoration ; which is also judged and di-
rected by the former ; the one being as the internal
soul of religion, and the other as the external body
thereof. And therefore the heathen religion was

Q 2

232 Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

hot only a worship of idols, but the whole religion
was an idol in itself, for it had no soul; that is,
no certainty of belief or confession ; as a man may
well think, considering the chief doctors of their
church were the poets : and the reason was, because
the heathen gods were no jealous gods, but were glad
to be admitted into part, as they had reason. Neither
did they respect the pureness of heart, so they might
have external honor and rites.

But out of these two do result and issue four main
branches of divinity ; faith, manners, liturgy, and
government. Faith containeth the doctrine of the
nature of God, of the attributes of God, and of the
works of God. The nature of God consisteth of
three persons in unity of Godhead. The attributes
of God are either common to the Deity, or respective
to the persons. The works of God summary are two,
that of the creation, and that of the redemption ; and
both these works, as in total they appertain to the
unity of the Godhead, so in their parts they refer 'to
the three persons : that of the creation, in the mass
of the matter, to the Father ; in the disposition of
the form, to the Son ; and in the continuance and
conservation of the being, to the Holy Spirit ; so that
of the redemption, in the election and counsel, to the
Father; in the whole act and consummation to the
Son ; and in the application, to the Holy Spirit : for
by the Holy Ghost was Christ conceived in flesh,
and by the Holy Ghost are the elect regenerated in
spirit. This work likewise we consider either effec-
tually, in the elect; or privately, in the reprobate; or
according to appearance, in the visible church.

For manners, the doctrine thereof is contained in
the law, which -discloseth sin. The law itself is di-
vided, according to the edition thereof, into the law
of nature, the law moral, and the law positive ; and,
according to the stile, into negative and affirmative,
prohibitions and commandments. Sin, in the matter
and subject thereof, is divided according to the com-
mandments ; in the form thereof, it reierreth to the
three persons in Deity. Sins of infirmity against the

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning. 233

Father, whose more special attribute is power ; sins
of ignorance against the Son, whose attribute is wis-
dom ; and sins of malice against the Holy Ghost,
whose attribute is grace or love. In the motions of
it, it either moveth to the right hand or to the left,
either to blind devotion, or to profane and libertine
transgression ; either in imposing restraint where
God granteth liberty, or in taking liberty where God
imposeth restraint. In the degrees and progress of
it, it divideth itself into thought, word, or act. And
in this part I commend much the deducing of the
law of God to cases of conscience, for that I take
indeed to be a breaking, and not exhibiting whole of
the bread of life. But that which quickeneth both
these doctrines of faith and manners, is the elevation
and consent of the heart ; vvhereunto appertain books
of exhortation, holy meditation, Christian resolution,
and the like.

For the liturgy or service, it consisteth of the reci-
procal acts between God and man ; which, on the
part of God, are the preaching of the word, and the
sacraments, which are seals to the covenant, or as the
visible word ; and on the part of man, invocation of
the name of God; and, under the law, sacrifices;
which were as visible prayers or confessions ; but
now the adoration being in spiritu et veritafe, there
remaineth only vituli labiorum, although the use of
holy vows of thankfulness and retribution may be
accounted also as sealed petitions.

And for the government of the church, it consist-
jeth of the patrimony of the church, the franchises of
the church, and the offices and jurisdictions of the
church, and the laws of the church directing the
whole; all which have two considerations, the one in
.themselves, the other how they stand compatible and
agreeable to the civil estate.

This matter of divinity is handled either in form of
instruction of truth, or in form of confutation of
falshood. The declinations from religion, besides the
primitive, which is atheism, and the branches there-
of, are three ; heresies, idolatry, and witchcraft : he-

234- Of the Advancement of Learning. [Book II.

resies, when we serve the true God with a false wor-
ship ; idolatry, when we worship false gods, sup-
posing them to be true ; and witchcraft, when we
adore false gods, knowing them to be wicked and
false. For so your majesty doth excellently well
observe, that witchcraft is the height of idolatry.
And yet we see though these be true degrees, Samuel
teacheth us that they are all of a nature, when there
is once a receding from the word of God j for so he
saith, Quasi peccatum ariolandi est repugnare, et quasi
scelus idolatritf nolle acquiescere.

These things I have passed over so briefly, because
I can report no deficiency concerning them : for I
can find no space or ground that lieth vacant and un-
sown in the matter of divinity ; so diligent have men
been, either in sowing of good seed, or in sowing
of tares.

THUS have I made as it were a small globe of the
intellectual world, as truly and faithfully as I could
discover, with a note and description of those parts,
which seem to me not constantly occupate, or not
well converted by the labour of man. In which, if I
have in any point receded from that which is com-
monly received, it hath been with a purpose of pro-
ceeding in menus, and not in aliud : a mind of
amendment and proficience, and not of change and
difference. For I could not be true and constant to
the argument I handle, if I were not willing to go
beyond others, but yet not more willing than to have
others go beyond me again ; which may the better
appear by this, that I have propounded my opinions
naked and unarmed, not seeking to preoccupate the
liberty of mens judgments by confutations. For in
any thing which is \vell set down, I am in good
hope, that if the first rea ling move an objection, the
second reading will make an answer. And in those
things wherein I have erred, I am sure, I have not
prejudiced the right by litigious arguments, which
certainly have this contrary effect and operation, that
they add authority to error, and destroy the authority

Book II.] Of the Advancement of Learning.

of that which is well invented. For question is an
honor and preferment to falshood, as on the other
side it is a repulse to truth. But the errors I claim
and challenge to myself as my own. The good, if
any be, is due tanquam adeps sacnficii, to be incensed
to the honour first of the Divine Majesty, and next
of your majesty, to whom on earth I am most
bounden.

235

MAGNALIA NATURE,

PR^CIPUE QUOAD USUS HUMANOS.

THE prolongation of life : the restitution of youth
in some degree : the retardation of age : the curing
of diseases counted incurable : the mitigation of pain :
more easy and less loathsome purgings : the increas-
ing of strength and activity : the increasing of ability
to suffer torture or pain : the altering of complexions,
and fatness and leanness : the altering of statures : the
altering of features : the increasing and exalting of
the intellectual parts ? versions of bodies into other
bodies : making of new species : transplanting of
one species into another : instruments of destruction,
as of war and poison : exhilaration of the spirits, and
putting them in good disposition : force of the ima-
gination, either upon another body, or upon the body
itself : acceleration of time in maturations : accelera-
tion of time in clarifications: acceleration of putre-
f Action: acceleration of decoction: acceleration of
germination : making rich composts for the earth :
impressions of the air, and raising of tempests : great
alteration ; as in induration, emollition, etc. turning
crude and watry substances into oily and unctuous
substances: drawing of new foods out of substances
not now in use : making new threads for apparel ;
and new stuffs, such as paper, glass, etc. natural di-
vinations : deceptions of the senses : greater pleasures
of the senses : artificial minerals and cements.

SYLFA SYLFA RUM:

PR, A

NATURAL HISTORY,

TEN CENTURIES,

TO

THE READER.

HA VING had the honour to be continually with
my lord in compiling of this work, and to be cm-
ployed therein, I have thought it not amiss, wltli
his lordship's good leave and liking, for the letter sa-
tisfaction of those that shall read it, to make known
somewhat of his lordship's intentions touching the or-
dering, and publishing of the same. I have heard
his lords/up often say, that if he should have served
the glory of his own name, he had been better not to
have published this Natural History: for it ?nay
seem an indigested heap of particulars, and cannot
have that lustre, which books cast into methods have;
but that he resolved to prefer the good of men, and
that which might best secure it, before any thing
that might have relation to himself. And he knew
well, that there was no other tvay open to unloose mens
minds, being bound, and, as it were, maleficiatc, by
the charms of deceiving notions and theories, and
thereby made impotent for generation of works, but
only no where to depart from the sense, and clear ex-
perience, but to keep close to ii, especially in the be-
ginning : besides, this Natural History was a debt
of his, being designed and set down for a third part
of the Instauration. / have also heard his lordship
discourse that men, no doubt, will think -many of the
experiments, contained in this collection, to be vulgar
and trivial, mean and sordid, curious and fruitless :
and therefore, he wisheth that they would have per-
petually before their eyes what is now in doing, and

242 TO THE READER.

the difference, between this Natural History and others.
For those Natural Histories which are extant, being
gathered for delight and use, are full of pleasant de-
scriptions and pictures, and affect and seek after ad-
miration, rarities, and secrets. But, contrariwise,
the scope, which his lordship intfrideth, is to write
such a Natural History, as may be fundamental to
the erecting and building of a true philosophy, for
the illumination of the understanding, the extracting
of axioms } and the producing of many noble works
and effects i For he hopetli by this means to acquit
himself of that for which he taketh himself in a sort
bound, and that is, the advancement of all learning
and sciences. For, having in this present work col-
lected the materials for the buildi?ig, and in his No-
vum Organum, of which his lordship is yet to pub*
lish a second part, set down the instruments and di*
rections for the work ; men shall now be wanting to
themselves, if they raise not knowledge to that per*
fection whereof the nature of mortal men is capable.
And in this behalf, I have heard his lordship speak
complainingly, that his lordship, who thinketh he
deserveth to be an architect in this building, should
be forced to be a workman, and a labourer, and to
dig the clay, and burn the brick ; and, more than
that, according to the hard condition of the Israelites
at the latter end, to gather the straw and stubble over
all the fields, to burn the bricks withal. For he
knoii'eth, that except lie do it, nothing will be done :
men arc so set to despise the means of their own good.
And as for the baseness of many of the experiments ;
as long as the?/ be God's works, they are honourable
enough. And for the rulgarncss of them, true
axioms must be drawn from plain experience, and not
from doubtful ; and his lordship's course is to make
wonders plain, and not plain things wonders; and
that experience likewise must be broken and grinded,

TO THE READER.

end not whole, or as it growcth. And for use ; his
lordship hath often in his mouth the two kinds of ex-
periments ; experimenta fructifera, and experi-
menta Idcifera : experiments of use, and experiments
of light : and he reporteth himself, whether he were
not a strange man, that should think that light hath
no use because it hat It no matter. Further, his lord-
s/u'p thought good also to add unto many of the ex-
periments themselves some gloss of the causes; that in
the succeeding work of interpreting nature, and fram-
ing axioms, all things may be in more readiness.
And for tlie causes herein by him assigned; his lord-
ship persuadeth himself 9 they are far more certain
than those that are rendered by others ; not for any
excellency of his own zuit, as his lordship is wont to
say, but in respect of his continual conversation with
nature and experience. He did consider likewise,
that by this addition of causes, me?is minds, which
make so much haste to find out the causes of things,
would not think themselves utterly lost in a vast wood
of experience, but stay upon these causes, such as they
are, a little, till true axioms may be more fully dis-
covered. I have heard liis lordship say also, that one
great reason, wliy lie would not put these particulars
into any exact method, though he that looketii at-
tentively into them shall jind that they have a secret
order, was, because he conceived that other men would.
now think that they could do the like ; and so go on
with a further collection: tchich, if t lie method hc.d
been exact, many would have despaired to attain, by
imitation. As for his lordship's love of order, I can
refer any man to his lordship's latin book. DC Aug-
mentis Scientiarum ; which, if my* judgment be any
thing, isivritten in the e.iactest order that I knox. any
writing to be. I will conclude with an usual

TO THE READER.

of his lordship's : That this work of his Natural His*
tory is the World as God made it, and not as men
have made it; for that it hath nothing of imagina-
tion.

W. RAWLEY.

This epistle is the same, that should have been prefixed to this
book, if his lordship had lived.

NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY I.

m
tn

Xpert ments in consort, touching the straining and
passing of bodies one through another ; which they
call Percolation.

JL/IG a pit upon the sea-shore, somewhat above the
igh -water mark, and sink it as deep as the low-
water mark ; and as the tide cometh in, it will fill
with water, fresh and potable. This is commonly
ractised upon the coast of Barbary, where other fresh
ater is wanting. And Caesar knew this well when
e was besieged in Alexandria : for by digging of
its in the sea-shore, he did frustrate the laborious
orks of the enemies, which had turned the sea-
water upon the wells of Alexandria ; and so saved
is army being then in desperation. But Caesar mis-
ook the cause, for he thought that all sea-sands had
atural springs of fresh water : but it is plain, that it
the sea-water ; because the pit filleth according to
the measure of the tide ; and the sea-water passing or
straining through the sands, leaveth the saltness.

2. I REMEMBER to have read, that trial hath been
made of salt-water passed through earth, through ten
vessels, one within another ; and yet it hath not lost
its saltness, as to become potable : but the same
man saith, that, by the relation of another, salt-water
drained through twenty vessels hath become fresh.
This experiment seemeth to cross that other of pits
made by the sea-side ; and yet but in part, if it be
true that twenty repetitions do the effect. But it is
worth the note, how poor the imitations of nature are
in common course of experiments, except they be
led by great judgment, and some good light of ax-
ioms. For first, there is no small difference between
a passage of water through twenty small vessels, and
VOL. i. R

246 Natural History. [Cent. I.

through such a distance, as between the low-water
and high-water mark, Secondly, there is a great
difference between earth and sand ; for all earth hath
in it a kind of nitrous salt, from which sand is more
free ; and besides, earth doth not strain the water so
finely as sand doth. But there is a third point, that
I suspect as much or more than the other two ; and
that is, that in the experiment of transmission of the
sea-water into the pits, the water riseth ; but in the
experiment of transmission of the water through the
vessels, it falleth. Now certain it is, that the salter
part of water, once salted throughout, goeth to the
bottom. And therefore no marvel, if the draining
of water by descent doth not make it fresh : besides,
I do somewhat doubt, that the very dashing of the
water, that cometh from the sea, is more proper to
strike off the salt part, than where the water slideth
of its own motion.

3. IT seemeth percolation, or transmission, which
Is commonly called straining, is a good kind of sepa-
ration, not only of thick from thin, and gross from
fine, but of more subtile natures; and varieth ac-
cording to the body through which the transmission is
made : as if through a woollen bag, the liquor leaveth
the fatness ; if through sand, the saltness, etc. They
speak of severing wine from water, passing it through
ivy wood, or through other the like porous body;
but non constat.

4. THE gum of trees, which we see to be commonly
shining and clear, is but a fine passage or straining
of the juice of the tree through the wood and bark.
And in like manner, Cornish diamonds, and rock
rubies, which are yet more resplendent than gums,
are the fine exudations of stone.

5. ARISTOTLE giveth the cause, vainly, why the.
feathers of birds are of more lively colours, than the
hairs of beasts; for no beast hath any fine azure, or
carnation, or green hair. He saith, it is because birds
are more in the beams of the sun than beasts; but that
is manifestly untrue ; for cattle are more in the sun
than birds, that live commonly in the woods, or in

I Cent. I.] Natural History. 247

some covert. The true cause is, that the excrcmen-
titious moisture of living creatures, which maketh as
well the feathers in birds, as the hair in beasts, passeth
in birds through a finer and more delicate strainer than
it doth in beasts : for feathers pass through quills; and
hair through skin.

6. THE clarifying of liquors by adhesion, is an in-
ward percolation ; and is effected, when some cleaving
body is mixed and agitated with the liquors ; whereby
the grosser part of the liquor sticks to that cleaving
body; and so the finer parts are freed from the
grosser. So the apothecaries clarify their syrups by
whites of eggs, beaten with the juices which they
would clarify; which whites of eggs gather all the
dregs and grosser parts of the juice to them; and
after- the syrup being set on the fire, the whites of
eggs themselves harden, and are taken forth. So hip-
pocras is clarified by mixing with milk, and stirring
it about, and then passing it through a woollen bag,
which they call Hippocrates's Sleeve, and the cleav-
ing nature of the milk draweth the powder of the
spices, and grosser parts of the liquor to it ; and in
the passage they stick upon the woollen bag.

7. THE clarifying of water is an experiment tend-
ing to health ; besides the pleasure of the eye, when
water is crystalline. It is effected by casting in and
placing pebbles at the head of a current, that the
water may strain through them.

• 8. IT may be, percolation doth not only cause
clearness and splendor, but sweetness of savour; for
that also followeth as well as clearness, when the
finer parts are severed from the grosser. So it is
found, that the sweats of men, that have much heat,
and exercise much, and have clean bodies, and fine
skins, do smell sweet ; as was said of Alexander ; and
we see that commonly gums have s,weet odours.

Experiments in consort, touching motion of bodies upon

their pressure.

9. TAKE a glass, and put water into it, and wet
your finger, and draw jt round about the lip of the

R 2

248 Natural History. [Cent. I.

glass, pressing it somewhat bard ; and after you have
drawn it some few times about, it will make the
water frisk and sprinkle up in a fine dew. This in-
stance doth excellently demonstrate the force of
compression in a solid body : for whensoever a solid
body, as wood, stone, metal, etc. is pressed, there is
an inward tumult in the parts thereof, seeking to
deliver themselves from the compression : and this is
the cause of all violent motion. Wherein it is strange
in the highest degree, that this motion hath never
been observed, nor inquired ; it being of all motions
the most common, and the chief root of all mechanical
operations. This motion worketh in round at first,
by way of proof and search which way to deliver it-
self: and then worketh in progress, where it findeth
the deliverance easiest. In liquors this motion is
visible; for all liquors strucken make round circles,
and withal dash ; but in solids, which break not, it
is so subtile, as it is invisible ; but nevertheless be-
wrayeth itself by many effects ; as in this instance
whereof we speak. For the pressure of the finger,
furthered by the wetting, because it sticketh so much
the better unto the lip of the glass, after some con-
tinuance, putteth all the small parts of the glass into
work ; that they strike the water sharply ; from which
percussion that sprinkling cometh.

10. IF you strike or pierce a solid body that is
brittle, as glass, or sugar, it breaketh not only where
the immediate force is; but breaketh all about into
shivers and fitters; the motion, upon the pressure,
searching all ways, and breaking where it findeth
the body weakest.

11. THE powder in shot, being dilated into such
a flame as endureth not compression, moveth like-
wise in round, the flame being in the nature of a
liquid body, sometimes recoiling, sometimes break-
ing the piece, but generally discharging the bullet,
because there it findeth easiest deliverance.

12. THIS motion upon pressure, and the reciprocal
thereof, which is motion upon tensure, we use to call
by one common name, motion of liberty ; which is,

ICen

ri

I

IT

Cent. L] Natural History. 249

when any body, being forced to a preternatural extent
or dimension, delivereth and restoreth itself to the na-
tural : as when a blown bladder, pressed, riseth again ;
or when leather or cloth tentured, spring back. These
two motions, of which there be infinite instances,
we shall handle in due place.

13. THIS motion upon pressure is excellently also
demonstrated in sounds; as when one cbimeth upon
a bell, it soundeth ; but as soon as he layeth his hand
upon it, the sound cease th : and so the sound of a
virginal string, as soon as the quill of the jack fall-
eth from it, stoppeth. For these sounds are pro-
duced by the subtile percussion of the minute parts
of the bell, or string, upon the air; all one, as the
water is caused to leap by the subtile percussion of
the minute parts of the glass, upon the water, whereof
we spake a little before in the ninth experiment.
For you must hot take it to be the local shaking of
the bell, or string, that doth it : as we shall fully de-
clare, when we come hereafter to handle sounds.

Experiments in consort, touching separations of bodies
by zoeight.

14. TAKE a glass with a belly and a long neb ; fill
the belly, in part, with water : take also another glass,
where into put claret wine and water mingled ; re-
verse the first glass, with the belly upwards, stopping
the neb with your finger; then dip the mouth of it
within the second glass, and remove your finger : con-
tinue it in that posture for a time ; and it will un-
mingle the wine from the water: the wine ascending
and settling in the top of the upper glass ; and the
water descending and settling in the bottom of the
lower glass. The passage is apparent to the eye ; for
you shall see the wine, as it were, in a small vein,
rising through the water. For handsomeness sake, be-
cause the working requireth some small time, it were

ood you hang the upper glass upon a nail. But as
soon as there is gathered so much pure and unmixed
water in the bottom of the lower glass, as that the
mouth of the upper glass dippeth into it, the mo*,
tion ceaseth.

250 Natural History. [Cent. I.

15. LET the upper glass be wine, and the lower
water; there followeth no motion at all. Let the
upper glass be water pure, the lower water coloured,
or contrariwise, there followeth no motion at all. But
it hath been tried, that though the mixture of wine
and water, in the lowej glass, be three parts water
and but one wine, yet it doth not dead the motion.
This separation of water and wine appeareth to be
made by weight; for it must be of bodies of un-
equal weight, or else it worketh not ; and the heavier
body must ever be in the upper glass. But then
note withal, that the water being made pensile, and
there being a great weight of water in the belly of
the glass, sustained by a small pillar of water in the
neck of the glass, it is that which setteth the mo-
tion on work : for water and wine in one glass, with
long standing, will hardly sever.

16. THIS experiment would be extended from
mixtures of several licjuors, to simple bodies which
consist of several similar parts : try it therefore with
brine or salt-water, and fresh-water ; placing the
salt-water, which is the heavier, in the upper-glass;
and see whether the fresh will come above. Try it
also with water thick sugared, and pure water ; and
see whether the water, which cometh above, will
lose its sweetness : for which purpose it were good
there were a little cock made in the belly of the
upper glass.

Experiments in consort, touching judicious and accurate
infusions^ both in liquors and air.

17. IN bodies containing fine spirits, which do
easily dissipate, when you majte infusions, the rule is;
a short stay of the body in the liquor, receiveth the
spirit ; and a longer stay, confoundeth it ; because it
draweth forth the earthy part withal, which embaseth
the finer. And therefore it is an error in physicians,
to rest simply upon the length of stay for increasing
the virtue. But if you will have the infusion strong,
in those kinds of bodies which have fine spirits, your
way is not to give longer time, but to repeat the infusion

Cent. L] Natural History. 251

of the body oftener. Take violets, and infuse a good
pugil of them in a quart of vinegar ; let them stay
three quarters of an hour, and take them forth, and
refresh the infusion with like quantity of new violets,
seven times ; and it will make a vinegar so fresh of
the flower, as if, a twelvemonth after, it be brought
you in a saucer, you shall smell it before it come at
you. Note, that it smelleth more perfectly of the
flower a good while after, than at first.

18. THIS rule, which we have given, is of singular
use for the preparations of medicines, and other in-
fusions. As for example : the leaf of burrage hath an
excellent spirit to repress the fuliginous vapour of
dusky melancholy, and so to cure madness : but
nevertheless if the leaf be infused long it yieldeth
forth but a raw substance, of no virtue : therefore I
suppose, that if in the must of wine, or wort of beer,
while it worketh, before it be tunned, the burrage
stay a small time, and be often changed with fresh ;
it will make a sovereign drhik for melancholy
passions. And the like I conceive of orange flowers.

19. RHUBARB hath manifestly in it parts of con-
trary operations: parts that purge; and parts that
bind the body : and the first lie looser, and the latter
lie deeper : so that if you infuse rhubarb for an hour,
and crush it well, it will purge better, and bind the
body less after the purging, than if it had stood
twenty-four hours ; this is tried : but I conceive like-
wise, that by repeating the infusion of rhubarb, se-
veral times, as was said of violets, letting each stay in
but a small time ; you may make it as strong a
purging medicine as scammony. And it is not a
small thing won in physic, if you can make rhubarb,
and other medicines that are benedict, as strong
purgers as those that are not, without some malignity.

20. PURGING medicines, for the most part, have
their purgative virtue in a fine spirit; as appeareth
by that they endure not boiling without much loss of
virtue. And therefore it is of good use in physic, if
you can retain the purging viftue, and take away
the unpleasant taste of the purger ; which it is like

252 Natural History. [Cent. I.

you may do, by this course of infusing oft, with little
stay. For it is probable that the horrible and odious
taste is in the grosser part.

21. GENERALLY, the working by infusions is gross
and blind, except you first try the issuing of the
several parts of the body, which of them issue more
speedily, and which more slowly ; and so by appor-
tioning the time, can take and leave that quality
which you desire. This to know there are two ways ,
the one to try what long stay, and what short stay
worketh, as hath been said ; the other to try in
order the succeeding infusions of one and the same
body, successively, in several liquors. As for example ;
take orange pills, or rosemary, or cinnamon, or what
you will ; and let them infuse half an hour in water :
then take them out, and infuse them again in other
water ; and so the third time : and then taste and
consider the first water, the second, and the third :
and you will find them differing, not only in strength
and weakness, but otherwise in taste or odour ; for
it may be the first water will have more of the scent,
as more fragrant ; and the second more of the taste,
as more bitter or biting, etc.

22. INFUSIONS in air, for so we may well call odours,
have the same diversities with infusions in water;
in that the several odours, which are in one flower,
or other body, issue at several times ; some earlier,
some later ; so we find that violets, woodbines, straw-
berries, yield a pleasing scent, that cometh forth first;
but soon after an ill scent quite differing from the
former. Which is caused, not so much by mellowing,
as by the late issuing of the grosser spirit.

23. As we may desire to extract the finest spirits
in some cases ; so we may desire also to discharge
them, as hurtful, in some other. So wine burnt, by
reason of the evaporating of the finer spirit, inflameth
less; and is best in agues ; opium loseth some of its
poisonous quality, if it be vapoured out, mingled with
spirit of wine, or the like : sena loseth somewhat of
its windiness by decocting ; and, generally, subtile
or windy spirits are taken off by incension or eva-

Cent. I.] Natural History.

poration. And even in infusions in things that aje
of too high a spirit, you were better pour off the first
infusion, after a small time, and use the latter.

Experiment solitary touching the appetite of continua*
tion in liquids.

24. BUBBLES are in the form of an hemisphere ; air
within and a little skin of water without : and it
seemeth somewhat strange, that the air should rise so
swiftly, while it is in the water ; and when it cometh
to the top, should be stayed by so weak a cover as
that of the bubble is. Bat as for the swift ascent of
the air, while it is under the water, that is a motion
of percussion from the water ; which itself descend-
ing driveth up the air; and no motion of levity in
the air. And this Democritus called motus plague.
In this common experiment, the cause of the inclo-
sure of the bubble is, for that the appetite to resist
separation, or discontinuance, which in solid bodies
is strong, is also in liquors, though fainter and weaker ;
as we see in this of the bubble : we see it also in little
glasses of spittle that children make of rushes ; and in
castles of bubbles, which they make by blowing into
water, having obtained a little degree of tenacity by
mixture of soap : we see it also in the stillicides of
water, which if there be water enough to follow,
will draw themselves into a small thread, because
they will not discontinue ; but if there be no remedy,
then they cast themselves into round drops; which
is the figure that saveth the body most from discon-
tinuance : the same reason is of the roundness of the
bubble, as well for the skin of water, as for the air
within : for the air likewise avoideth discontinuance ;
and therefore casteth itself into a round figure. And
for the stop and arrest of the air a little while, it
sheweth that the air of itself hath little or no appetite
of ascending.

Natural History. [Cent. I.

Experiment solitary touching the making of artificial
springs.

25. THE rejection, which I continually use, of ex-
periments, though it appeareth not, is infinite ; but
yet if an experiment be probable in the work, and of
great use, I receive it, but deliver it as doubtful. It
was reported by a sober man, that an artificial
spring may be made thus : Find out a hanging
ground, where there is a good quick fall of rain-
water. Lay a half-trough of stone, of a good length,
three or four foot deep within the same ground ; with
one end upon the high ground, the other upon the
low. Cover the trough with brakes a good thick-
ness, and cast sand upon the top of the brakes :
you shall see, saith he, that after some showers are
past, the lower end of the trough will run like a
spring of water : which is no marvel, if it hold while
the rain-water lasteth ; but he said it would continue
long time after the rain is past : as if the water did
multiply itself upon the air, by the help of the cold-
ness and condensation of the earth, and the consort
of the first water.

Experiment solitary touching the venomous quality of
maris flesh.

26. THE French, who put off the name of the
French disease unto the name of the disease of Na-
ples, do report, that at the siege of Naples, there
were certain wicked merchants that barrelled up
man's flesh, of some that had been lately slain in Bar-
bary, and sold it for tunney ; and that upon that foul
and high nourishment, was the original of that dis-
ease. Which may well be, for that it is certain, that
the cannibals in the West-Indies eat man's flesh ; and
the West-Indies were full of the pox when they were
first discovered : and at this day the mortalest poisons,
practised by the West-Indians, have some mixture of
the blood, or fat, or flesh of man : and divers witches
and sorceresses, as weit amongst the heathen, as
amongst the christians, have fed upon man's flesh, to
aid, as it seemcth, their imagination, with high and
foul vapours.

Cent. I.] Natural History.

Experiment solitary touching the version and transmu-
tation of air into water.

27. IT seemeth that there be these ways, in likeli-
hood, of version of vapours or air, into water and
moisture. The first is cold ; which doth manifestly
condense ; as we see in the contracting of the air in
the weather glass ; whereby it is a degree nearer to
water. We see it also in the generation of springs,
which the ancients thought, very probably, to be
made by the version of air into water, holpen by the
rest, which the air hath in those parts ; whereby it
cannot dissipate. And by the coldness of rocks ; for
there springs are chiefly generated. We see it also
in the effects of the cold of the middle region, as they
call it, of the air : which produceth dews and rains.
And the experiment of turning water into ice, by
snow, nitre, and salt, whereof we shall speak here-
after, would be transferred to the turning of air into
water. The second way is by compression; as in
stillatories, where the vapour is turned back upon it-
self, by the encounter of the sides of the stillatory ;
and in the dew upon the covers of boiling pots; and
in the dew towards rain, upon marble and wainscot.
But this is like to do no great effect ; except it be
upon vapours, and gross air, that are already very
near in degree to water. The third is that, which
may be searched into, but doth not yet appear; which
is, by mingling of moist vapours with air; and trying
if they will not bring a return of more water, than

• the water was at first : for if so, that increase is a
version of the air : therefore put water into the bot-
tom of a stillatory, with the neb stopped ; weigh the
water first ; hang in the middle of the stillatory a
large spunge ; and see what quantity of water you
can crush out of it ; and what it is more or less, com-
pared with the water spent ; for you must understand,
that if any version can be wrought, it will be easiliest
done in small pores : and that is the reason why we
prescribe a spunge. The fourth way is probable also,
though not appearing ; which is, by receiving the air

256 Natural History, [Cent. I.

into the small pores of bodies : for, as hath been said,
every thing in small quantity is more easy for version ;
and tangible bodies have no pleasure in the consort
of air, but endeavour to subact it into a more dense
body : but in intire bodies it is checked ; because if
the air should condense, there is nothing to succeed:
therefore it must be in loose bodies, as sand, and
powder ; which, we see, if they lie close, of them-
selves gather moisture.

Experiment solitary touching helps towards the beauty
and good features of persons.

28. IT is reported by some of the ancients; that
whelps, or other creatures, if they be put young into
such a cage or box, as they cannot rise to their sta-
ture, but may increase in breadth or length, will
grow accordingly as they can get room : which if it
be true and feasible, and that the young creature so.
pressed and straitened, doth not thereupon die ; it is
a means to produce dwarf creatures, and in a very
strange figure. This is certain, and noted long since;
that the pressure or forming of the parts of creatures,
when they are very young, doth alter the shape not a
little ; as the stroking of the heads of infants, be-
tween the hands, was noted of old, to make Macro-
cephali s which shape of the head, at that time, was
esteemed. And the raising gently of the bridge of
the nose, doth prevent the deformity of a saddle nose.
Which observation well weighed, may teach a means
to make the persons of men and women, in many
kinds, more comely and better featured than other-
wise they would be ; by the forming and shaping of
them in their infancy: as by stroking up the calves
of the legs, to keep them from falling down too low;
and by stroking up the forehead, to keep them from
being low-foreheaded. And it is a common practice
to swathe infants, that they may grow more straight
and better shaped : and we see young women, by
wearing strait bodice, keep themselves from being
gross and corpulent.

>nt. I.] Natural History. 25?

Experiment solitary touching the condensing of air in
such sort as it may put on ice igJit, and yield nourish-
ment.

29. ONIONS, as they bang, will many of them
shoot forth ; and so will penny-royal ; and so will an
herb called orpin ; with which they use in the coun-
try to trim their houses, binding it to a lath or stick,
and setting it against a wall. We see it likewise,
more especially, in the greater semper-vive, which
will put out branches, two or three years : but it is
true, that commonly they wrap the root in a cloth
besmeared with oil, and renew it once in half a year.
The like is reported by some of the ancients, of the
stalks of lilies. The cause is ; for that these plants
have a strong, dense, and succulent moisture, which
is not apt to exhale ; and so is able, from the old
store, without drawing help from the earth, to suffice
the sprouting of the plant : and this sprouting is
chiefly in the late spring, or early summer ; which
are the times of putting forth. We see also, that
stumps of trees lying out of the ground, will put-
forth sprouts for a time. But it is a noble trial,
and of very great consequence, to try whether these
things in the sprouting, do increase weight ; which
must be tried, by weighing them before they be
hanged up ; and afterwards again, when they are
sprouted. For if they increase not in weight, then
it is no more but this ; that what they send forth in
the sprout, they lose in some other part : but if they
gather weight, then it is magnate nature; for it
sheweth that air may be made so to be condensed,
as to be converted into a dense body ; whereas the
race and period of all things, here above the earth,
is to extenuate and turn things to be more pneuma-
tical and rare ; and not to be retrograde, from pneu-
matical to that which is dense. It sheweth also,

lat air can nourish ; which is another great matter
of consequence. Note, that to try this, the experi-
ment of the semper-vive must be made without oiling
the cloth ; for else,, it may be, the plant receivcth
nourishment from the oil.

258 Natural History. [Cent. I.

Experiment solitary touching the commixture of flame
and air, and the great force thereof.

30. FLAME and air do not mingle, except it be in
an instant; or in the vital spirits of vegetables and
living creatures. In gun-powder, the force of it hath
been ascribed to rarefaction of the earthly substance
into flame ; and thus far it is true : and then, for-
sooth, it is become another element ; the form where-
of occupieth more place; and so, of necessity, follow-
eth a dilatation: and therefore, lest two bodies should
be in one place, there must needs also follow an ex-
pulsion of the pellet ; or blowing up of the mine.
But these are crude and ignorant speculations. For
flame, if there were nothing else, except it were in
very great quantity, will be suffocate with any hard
body, such as a pellet is ; or the barrel of a gun ; so
as the flame would not expel the hard body; but the
hard body would kill the flame, and not suffer it to
kindle or spread. But the cause of this so potent a
motion, is the nitre, which we call otherwise salt-
petre, which having in it a notable crude and windy
spirit, first by the heat of the fire suddenly dilateth
itself; and we know that simple air, being preter-
naturally attenuated by heat, will make itself room,
and break and blow up that which resisteth it ; and
secondly, when the nitre hath dilated itself, it bloweth
abroad the flame, as an inward bellows. And there-
fore we see that brimstone, pitch, camphire, wild-fire,
and divers other inflammable matters, though they
burn cruelly, and are hard to quench, yet they make
no such fiery wind as gun-powder doth : and on the
other side, we see that quick-silver, which is a most
crude and watry body, heated and pent in, hath the
like force with gun-powder. As for living creatures,
it is certain, their vital spirits are a substance com-
pounded of an airy and flamy matter ; and though
air and flame being free, will not well mingle , yet
bound in by a body that hath some fixing, they will.
For that you may best see in those two bodies,
which are their aliments, water and oil ; for they
likewise will not well mingle of themselves ; but in

Cent. I.] Natural History. 259

the bodies of plants, and living creatures, they will.
It is no marvel therefore, that a small quantity of
spirits, in the cells of the brain and canals of the
sinews, are able to move the whole body, which is
of so great mass, both with so great force, as in
wrestling, leaping ; and with so great swiftness, as
in playing division upon the lute. Such is the force
of these two natures, air and flame, when they incor-
porate.

Experiment solitary touching the secret nature of flame.

31. TAKE a small wax candle, and put it in a
socket of brass or iron ; then set it upright in a
porringer full of spirit of wine heated : then set both
the candle and spirit of wine on fire, and you shall
see the flame of the 'candle open itself, and become
four or five times bigger than otherwise it would have
been; and appear in figure globular, and not in pyra-
mis. You shall see also, that the inward flame of
the candle keepeth colour, and doth not wax any
whit blue towards the colour of the outward flame of
the spirit of wine. This is a noble instance ; where-
in two things are most remarkable : the one, that
one flame within another quencheth not ; but is a
fixed body, and continueth as air or water do. And
therefore flame would still ascend upwards in one
greatness, if it were not quenched on the sides : and
the greater the flame is at the bottom the higher is
the rise. The other, that flame doth not mingle
with flame, as air doth with air, or water with water,
but only remaineth contiguous; as it cometh to pass
betwixt consisting bodies. It appeareth also that
the form of a pyramis in flame, which we usually
see, is merely by accident, and that the air about,
by quenching the sides of the flame, crusheth it, and
extenuateth it into that form ; for of itself it would
be round ; and therefore smoke is in the figure of
a pyramis reversed ; for the air quencheth the flame,
and receiveth the smoke. Note also, that the flame
of the candle, within the flame of the spirit of wine,
led ; and doth not only open and move up-

260 Natural History. [Cent. T*

wards, but moveth waving to and fro ; as if flame
of its own nature, if it were not quenched, would
roll and turn, as well as move upwards. By all
which it should seem, that the celestial bodies, most
of them, are true fires or flames, as the Stoics held ;
more fine, perhaps, and rarified than our flame is.
For they are all globular and determinate ; they have
rotation ; and they have the colour and splendor of
flame : so that flame above is durable, and consistent,
and in its natural place ; but with us it is a stranger,
and momentary, and impure; like Vulcan that halted
with his fall.

Experiment solitary touching the different force of flame
in the midst and on the sides.

32. TAKE an arrow, and hold it in flame for the
space of ten pulses, and when it cometh forth, you
shall find those parts of the arrow which were on the
outsides of the flame more burned, blacked, and
turned almost into a coal, whereas that in the midst
of the flame will be as if the fire had scarce touched
it. This is an instance of great consequence for
the discovery of the nature of flame ; and sheweth
manifestly, that flame burneth more violently towards
the sides than in the midst: and, which is more,
that heat or fire is not violent or furious, but where
it is checked and pent up. And therefore the Peri-
patetics, howsoever their opinion of an element of
fire above the air is justly exploded, in that point
they acquit themselves well : for being opposed,
that if there were a sphere of fire, that encompassed
the earth so near hand, it were impossible but all
things should be burnt up ; they answer, that the
pure elemental fire, in its own place, and not irritated,
is but of a moderate heat.

Experiment solitary touching the decrease of the natural
motion of gravity, in great distance from the earth ;
or within some depth of the earth.

33. IT is affirmed constantly by many, as an usual
experiment; that a lump of ore, in the bottom of a

Cent. I.] Natural History. 261

mine, will be tumbled and stirred by two mens
strength ; which if you bring it to the top of the
earth, will ask six mens strength at the least to stir
it. It is a noble instance, and is fit to be tried to the
full ; for it is very probable, that the motion of gra-
vity worketh weakly, both far from the earth, and
also within the earth : the former, because the appe-
tite of union of dense bodies with the earth, in respect
of the distance, is more dull; the latter, because the
body hath in part attained its nature when it is some
depth in the earth. For as for the moving to a point
or place, which was the opinion of the ancients, it is
a mere vanity.

Experiment solitary touching the contraction of bodies
in bulk, by the mixture of the more liquid body with
the more solid.

34. IT is strange how the ancients took up expe-
riments upon credit, and yet did build great matters
upon them. The observation of some of the best of
them, delivered confidently, is, that a vessel filled with
ashes will receive the like quantity of water, that it
would have done if it had been empty. But this is
utterly untrue, for the water will not go in by a fifth
part. And I suppose, that that fifth part is the dif-
ference of the lying close, or open, of the ashes; as
we see that ashes alone, if they be hard pressed,
will lie in less room: and so the ashes with air be-
tween, lie looser; and with water, closer. For I have
not yet found certainly, that the water itself, by mix-
ture of ashes or dust, will shrink or draw into less
room.

Experiment solitajy touching the making vines more
fruitful.

35. IT is reported of credit, that if you lay good
store of kernels of grapes about the root of a vine,
it will make the vine come earlier and prosper better,
It may be tried with other kernels laid about the root
of a plant of the same kind , as figs, kernels of apples,
etc. The cause may be, for that the kernels draw out

VOL. i. s

262 Natural History. [Cent. I.

of the earth juice fit to nourish the tree, as those that
would be trees of themselves, though there were no
root; but the root being of greater strength robbeth
and devoureth the nourishment, when they have drawn
it: as great fishes devour little.

Experiments in consort touching purging medicines.

36. THE operation of purging medicines, and the
causes thereof, have been thought to be a great secret,
and so according to the slothful manner of men, it is
referred to a hidden propriety, a specifical virtue, and
a fourth quality, and the like shifts of ignorance.
The causes of purging are divers; all plain and per-
spicuous; and throughly maintained by experience.
The first is, that whatsoever cannot be overcome and
digested by the stomach, is by the stomach either put
up by vomit, or put down to the guts; and by that
motion of expulsion in the stomach and guts, other
parts of the body, as the orifices of the veins, and the
like, are moved to expel by consent. For nothing is
more frequent than motion of consent in the body of
man. This surcharge of the stomach is caused either
by the quality of the medicine, or by the quantity.
The qualities are three : extreme bitter, as in aloes,
coloquintida, etc. lothsome and of horrible taste, as in
agaric, black hellebore, etc. and of secret malignity,
and disagreement towards man's body, many times
not appearing much in the taste, as in scammony, me-
choachan, antimony, etc. And note well, that if there
be any medicine that purgeth, and hath neither of the
first two manifest qualities, it is to be held suspected
as a kind ot poison; for that it worketh either by
corrosion, or by a secret malignity, and enmity to
nature: and therefore such medicines are warily to be
prepared and used. The quantity of that which is
taken doth also cause purging ; as we see in a great
quantity of new milk from the cow ; yea and a great
quantity of meat ; for surfeits many times turn to
purges, both upwards and downwards. Therefore
we see generally, that the working of purging medi-
cines cometh two or three hours after the medicines

Cent. I.] Natural History. 263

taken; for that the stomach first maketh a proof,
whether it can concoct them. And the like hap-
pcneth after surfeits, or milk in too great quantity.

37. A SECOND cause is mordication of the orifices
of the parts; especially of the mesentery veins; as it
is seen, that salt, or any such thing that is sharp and
biting, put into the fundament, doth provoke the part
to expel; and mustard provoketh sneezing: and any
sharp thing to the eyes provoketh tears. And there-
fore we see that almost all purgu's have a kind of
twitching and vellication, besides the griping wrhich
cometh of wind. And if this mordication be in an
over-high degree, it is little better than the corrosion
of poison; as it cometh to pass sometimes in anti-
mony, especially if it be given to bodies not replete
with humours; for where humours abound, the hu-
mours save the parts.

38. THE third cause is attraction: for I do not
deny, but that purging medicines have in diem a di-
rect force of attraction; as drawing plaisters have in
surgery: and we see sage or betony bruised, sneezing
powder, and other powders or liquors which the phy-
sicians call errhines, put into the nose, draw phlegm
and water from the head ; and so it is in apophlegma-
tisms and gargarisrns, that draw the rheum down by
the palate. And by this virtue, no doubt, some
purgers draw more one humour, and some another,
according to the opinion received : as rhubarb draw-
eth choler: sena melancholy: agaric phlegm, etc. but
yet, more or less, they draw promiscuously. And
note also, that besides sympathy between the purger
and the humour, there is also another cause, why
some medicines draw some humour more than another.
And it is, for that some medicines work quicker than
others: they that draw quick, draw only the lighter
and more fluid humours; and they that draw slow,
work upon the more tough .and viscous humours,
And therefore men must beware how they take rhu-
barb, and the like, alone familiarly; for it taketh only
the lightest part of the humour away, and leaveth the

s 2

Natural History. [Cent. I.

mass of humours more obstinate. And the like may
be said of wormwood, xvhich is so much magnified.

39. THE fourth cause is flatuosity ; for wind stirred
moveth to expel : and we find that in effect al'l purgers
have in them a raw spirit or wind ; which is the prin-
cipal cause of tortion in the stomach and belly. And
therefore purgers lose most of them, the virtue, by
decoction upon the fire ; and for that cause are given
chiefly in infusion, juice, or powder.

40. THE fifth cause is compression or crushing: as
when water is crushed out of a spunge : so we see
that taking cold moveth looseness by contraction of
the skin and outward parts; and so doth cold like-
wise cause rheums, and defluxions from the head ;
and some astringent plaisters crush out purulent mat-
ter. This kind of operation is not found in many
medicines; myrobalanes have it; and it may be the
barks of peaches ; for this virtue requireth an astric-
tion; but such an astriction as is not grateful to the
body; for a pleasing astriction doth rather bind in
the humours than expel them : and therefore, such
astriction is found in things of an harsh taste.

41. THE sixth cause is lubrefaction and relaxation.
As we see in medicines emollient; such as are milk,
honey, mallows, lettice, mercurial, pellitory of the
wall, and others. There is also a secret virtue of re-
laxation in cold: for the heat of the body bindeth the
parts and humours together, which cold relaxeth: as
it is seen in urine, blood, pottage, or the like; which,
if they be cold, break and dissolve. And by this
kind of relaxation, fear looseneth the belly; because
the heat retiring inwards towards the heart, the guts,
and other parts are relaxed ; in the same manner as
fear also causeth trembling in the sinews. And of
this kind of purgers are some medicines made of mer-
cury. '

42. THE seventh cause is abstertion: which is
plainly a scouring off, or incision of the more viscous
humours, and milking the humours more fluid; and
cutting between , them and the part; as is found in
nitrous water, which seourcth linen cloth speedily

Cent. I.] Natural History. 265

from the foulness. But this incision must be by a
sharpness, without astriction : which we find in salt,
wormwood, oxymel, and the like.

43. THERE be medicines that move stools, and not
urine ; some other, urine, and not stools. Those that
purge by stool, are such as enter not at all, or little
into the mesentery veins; but either at the first are
not digestible by the stomach, and therefore move im-
mediately downwards to the guts; or else are after-
wards rejected by the mesentery veins; and so turn
likewise downwards to the guts; and of these two
kinds are most purgers. But those that move urine,
are such as are \vell digested of the stomach, and well
received also of the mesentery veins; so they come as
far as the liver, which sendeth urine to the bladder,
as the whey of blood: and those medicines being
opening and piercing, do fortify the operation of the
liver, in sending down the wheyey part of the blood
to the reins. For medicines urinative do not work
by rejection and indigestion, as solutive do.

44. THERE be divers medicines, which in greater
quantity move stool, and in smaller urine : and so con-
trariwise, some that in greater quantity move urine,
and in smaller stools. Of the former sort'is rhubarb,
and some others. The cause is, for that rhubarb is a
medicine which the stomach in a small quantity doth
digest and overcome, being not flatuous nor lothsome,
and so sendeth it to the mesentery veins; and so being
opening, it helpeth down urine : but in a greater quan-
tity, the stomach cannot overcome it, and so it goeth
to the guts. Pepper by some of the ancients is noted
to be of the second sort; which being in small quan-
tity, moveth wind in the stomach and guts, and so ex-
pelleth by stool; but being in greater quantity, dissi-
pateth the wind.; and itself getteth to the mesentery
veins, and so to the liver and reins; where, by heat-
ing and opening, it sendeth down urine more plen-
tifully.

266 Natural History. [Cent. I.

Experiments in consort touching meats and drinks that
are most nourishing.

45. WE have spoken of evacuating of the body;
\ve will now speak something of the filling of it by re-
storatives in consumptions and emaciating diseases.
In vegetables, there is one part that is more nourishing
than another ; as grains and roots nourish more than the
leaves ; insomuch as the order of the Foliatanes was put
down by the pope, as rinding leaves unable to nourish
man's body. Whether there be that difference in the
flesh of living creatures, is not well inquired : as whether
livers and other entrails, be not more nourishing than
the outward 'flesh. We find that amongst the Romans,
a goose's liver was a great delicacy; insomuch as they
had artificial means to make it fair and great ; but
whether it were more nourishing appeareth not. It
is certain, that marrow is more nourishing than fat.
And I conceive that some decoction of bones and
sinews, stamped and well strained, would be a very
nourishing broth: we find also that Scotch skinck,
which is a pottage of strong nourishment, is made
with the knees and sinews of beef, but long boiled :
jelly also, which they use for a restorative, is chiefly
made of knuckles of veal. The pulp that is within
the crawfish or crab, which they spice and butter, is
more nourishing than the flesh of the crab or crawfish.
The yolks of eggs are clearly more nourishing than the
whites. So that it should seem, that the parts of living
creatures that lie more inwards, nourish more than
the outward flesh ; except it be the brain : which the
spirits prey too much upon, to Jeave it any great vir-
tue of nourishment. It seemeth for the nourishing of
aged men, or men in consumptions, some such thing
should be devised, as should be half chylus, before it
be put into the stomach.

46. TAKE two large capons; parboil them upon a
soft fire, by the space of an hour or more, till in effect
all the blood be gone. Add in the decoction the peel
of a sweet lemon, or a good part of the peel of a
citron, and a little mace. Cut off the shanks, and
throw them away. Then with a good strong chop-

;nt. L] Natural History. 267

ping knife mince the two capons, bones and all, as
small as ordinary minced meat; put them into a large
peat boulter; then take a kilderkin, sweet and well
seasoned, of four gallons of beer, of 8s. strength, new
as it cometh from the tunning; make in the kilder-
kin a great, bung-hole of purpose: then thrust into it
the boulter, in which the capor\s are, drawn out in
length ; let it steep in it three days and three nights,
the bung-hole open, to work; then close the bung-
hole, and so let it continue a day and a half ; then
draw it into bottles, and you may drink it well after
three days bottling; and it will last six weeks, ap-
proved. It drinketh fresh, fiowereth and mantleth
exceedingly ; it drinketh not newish at all ; it is an
excellent drink for a consumption, to be drunk either
alone, or carded with some other beer. Jt quencheth
thirst, and hath no whit of windiness. Note, that it
is not possible, that meat and bread, either in broths
or taken with drink, as is used, should get forth into
the veins and outward parts, so finely and easily, as
when it is thus incorporate, and made almost a chylus
aforehand.

47. TRIAL would be made of the like brew with
potatoe roots, or burr roots, or the pith of artichokes,
which are nourishing meats: it may be tried also with
other flesh; as pheasant, partridge, young pork, pig,
venison, especially of young deer, tfc.

48. A MOR TRESS made with the brawn of capons,
stamped and strained, and mingled, after it is made,
with like quantity, at the least, of almond butter, is an
excellent meat to nourish those that are weak;, better
than blackmanger, or jelly: a.nd so is the cullice of
.cocks, boiled thick with the like mixture of almond
butter: for the mortress or cullice, of itself, is more
savoury and strong, and not so fit for nourishing of
weak bodies; but tl^e almonds, that are not of so high
a taste as flesh, do. excellently qualify it.

49. INDIAN maiz hath, of certain, an excellent spirit
of nourishment -, but it must be thoroughly boiled, and
made into a maiz-cream like a barley-cream. I judge
the same of rice, made into a cream; for rice is in

268 Natural History. [Cent. I.

Turkey, and other countries of the east, most fed upon ;
but it must be thoroughly boiled in respect of the
hardness of it, and also because otherwise it bindeth
the body too much.

50. PISTACHOES, so they be good, and not musty,
joined with almonds in almond milk; or made into a
milk of themselves, like unto almond milk, but more
green, are an excellent nourisher: but you shall do
well, to add a little ginger, scraped, because they are
not without some subtile windiness.

51. MILK warm from the cow, is found to be a
great nourisher, and a good remedy in consumptions:
but then you must put into it, when you milk the
cow, two little bags ; the one of powder of mint, the
other of powder of red roses; for they keep the milk
somewhat from turning or curdling in the stomach ;
and put in sugar also for the same cause, and partly
for the taste's sake; but you must drink a good
draught, that it may stay less time in the stomach, lest
it curdle : and let the cup into which you milk the
cow, be set in a greater cup of hot water, that you
may take it warm. And cow milk thus prepared, I
judge to be better for a consumption, than ass milk,
which, it is true, turneth not so easily, but it is a little
harsh ; marry it is more proper for sharpness of urine,
and exulceration of the bladder, and all manner of
lenifyings. Woman's milk likewise is prescribed,
when all fail; but I commend it not, as being a little
too near the juice of man's body, to be a ^ood nou-
risher; except it be in infants, to whom it is natural.

52. OIL of sweet almonds, newly drawn, with
sugar, and a little spice, spread upon bread toasted,
is an excellent nourisher: but then to keep the oil
from frying in the stomach, you must drink a good
draught of mild beer after it; and to keep it from re-
laxing the stomach too much, you must put in a little
powder of cinnamon,

53. THE yolks of eggs are of themselves so well
prepared by nature for nourishment, as, so they be
poached, or rare boiled, they need no other prepara-
tion or mixture; yet they may be taken also raw.

Cent. I.] Natural History. '269

when they are new laid, with Malmsey, or sweet
wine; you shall do well to put in some few slices of
eryngium roots, and a little ambergrice ; for by this
means, besides the immediate faculty of nourishment,
such drink will strengthen the back, so that it will
not draw down the urine too fast ; for t-oo much urine
doth always hinder nourishment.

54. MINCING of meat, as in pies, and buttered
minced meat, saveth the grinding of the teeth ; and
therefore, no doubt, it is more nourishing, especially
in age, or to them that have weak teeth; but the
butter is not so proper for weak bodies ; and there-
fore it were good to moisten it with a little claret
wine, peel of lemon or orange, cut small, sugar, and
a very little cinnamon or nutmeg. As for chuets,
which are likewise minced meat, instead of butter
and fat, it were good to moisten, them, partly with
cream, or almond, or pistacho milk; or barley, or
maiz-cream; adding a little coriander seed and cara-
way seed, and a very little saffron. The more full
handling of alimentation we reserve to the due place.

WE have hitherto handled the particulars which
yield best, and easiest, and plentifullest nourishment;
and now wre will speak of the best means of conveying
and converting the nourishment.

55. THE first means is to procure that the nourish-
ment may not be robbed and drawn away ; wherein
that which we have already said is very material ; to
provide that the reins draw not too strongly an over
great part of the blood into urine. To this add
that precept of Aristotle, that wine be forborn in all
consumptions; for that the spirits of the wine do prey
upon the roscid juice of the body, and inter-common
with the spirits of the body, and so deceive and rob
them of their nourishment. And therefore if the con-
sumption, growing from the weakness of the stomach,
do force you to use wine, let it always be burnt, that
the quicker spirits may evaporate ; or, at the least,
quenched with two little wedges of gold, six or seven
times repeated. Add also to this provision, that there
be not too much expence of the nourishment, by ex-

270 Natural History. [Cent. I.

haling and sweating ; and therefore if the patient be
apt to sweat, it must be gently restrained. But
chiefly Hippocrates's rule is to be followed, who ad-
viseth quite contrary to that which is in use : namely,
that the linen or garment next the flesh be, in win-
ter, dry and oft changed ; and in summer seldom
changed, and smeared over with oil ; for certain it is,
that any substance that is fat, doth a little fill the
pores of the body, and stay sweat in some degree:
but the more cleanly way is, to have the linen smeare^
lightly over with oil of sweet almonds ; and not to
forbear shifting as pit as is fit.

56. THE second means is, to send forth the nou-
rishment into the parts more qtrongly ; for which the
working must be by strengthening of the stomach;
and in this, because the stomach is chiefly comforted
by wine and hot things, which otherwise hurt ; it is
good to resort to outward applications to the stor-
mach : Wherein it hath been tried, that the quilts of
roses, spices, mastic, wormword, mint, etc. are no-
thing so helpful, as to take a cake of new bread, and
to bedew it with a little sack, or Alicant; and to
dry it; and after it be dried a little before the fire,
to put it within a clean napkin, and to lay it to the
stomach; for it is certain, that all flour hath a po-
tent virtue of astriction ; in so much as it hardeneth
a piece of flesh, or a flower, that is laid in it : and
therefore a bag quilted with bran is likewise very
good ; but it drieth somewhat too much, and there-
fore it must not lie long.

57. THE third means, which may be a branch of
the former, is to send forth the nourishment the better
by sleep. For we see, that bears, and other creatures
that sleep in the winter, wax exceeding fat: and cer-
tain it is, as it is commonly believed, that sleep doth
nourish much ; both for that the spirits do less spend
the nourishment in sleep, than when living creatures
.are awake ; and because, that which is to the pre-
sent purpose, it helpeth to thrust out the nourishment
into the parts. Therefore in aged men, and weak
todies, and such as abound not with choler^ a short

Cent. I.] Natural History.

sleep after dinner doth help to nourish 5 for in such
bodies there is no fear of an over-hasty digestion, which
is the inconvenience of postmeridian sleeps. Sleep
also in the morning, after the taking of somewhat of
easy digestion, as milk from the cow, nourishing
broth, or the like, doth further nourishment : but this
should be done sitting upright, that the milk or broth,
may pass the more speedily to the bottom of the
stomach.

58. THE fourth means is, to provide that the parts
themselves may draw to them the nourishment
strongly. There is an excellent observation of Ari-
stotle ; that a great reason, why plants, some of them,
are of greater age than living creatures, is, for that
they yearly put forth new leaves and boughs: whereas
living creatures put forth, after their period of
growth, nothing that is young, but hair and nails,
which are excrements, and no parts. And it is most
certain, that whatsoever is young, doth draw nourish-
ment better than that which is old ; and then, that
which is the mystery of that observation, young
boughs, and leaves, calling the sap up to them, the
same nourisheth the body in the passage. And this
we see notably proved also, in that the oft cutting, or
polling of hedges, trees, and herbs, doth conduce
much to their lasting. Transfer therefore this obser-
vation to the helping of nourishment in living crea-
tures: the noblest and principal use whereof isa for
the prolongation of life ; restoration of some degree of
youth ; and inteneration of the parts: for certain it is,
that there are in living creatures parts that nourish and
repair easily, and parts that nourish and repair hardly :
and you must refresh and renew those that are easy to
nourish, that the other may be refreshed, and, as it
were, drink in nourishment in the passage. Now we
see that draught oxen, put into good pasture, recover
the flesh of young beef; and men after long emaci-
ating diets wax plump and fat, and almost new : so
that you may surely conclude, that the frequent and
wise use of those emaciating diets, and of purgings,
and perhaps of some kind of bleeding, is a prin-

Natural History. [Cent. I.

cipal means of prolongation of life, and restoring
some degree of youth : for as we have often said,
death cpmeth upon living creatures like the torment
of Mezentius :

Mortna quin etlam jungebat corpara vivisy
Component manibusque manus, clique oribus ora.

JEn. Y»i- 485.

For the parts in man's body easily reparable, as spirits,
blood and flesh, die in the embracement of the parts
hardly reparable, as bones, nerves^ and membranes ;
and likewise some entrails, which they reckon
amongst the spermatical parts, are hard to repair ,
though that division of spermatical and menstrual
parts be but a conceit. And this same observation also
may be drawn to the present purpose of nourishing
emaciated bodies: and therefore gentle fricatjon
draweth forth the nourishment, by making the parts
a little hungry, and heating them ; whereby they call
forth nourishment the better. This frication I wish
to be done in the morning. It is also best done by
the hand, or a piece of scarlet wool, wet a little writh
oil of almonds, mingled with a small quantity of bay-
salt, or saffron, we see that the very currying of
horses cloth make them fat, and in good liking.

59. THE fifth means is, to further the very act of
assimilation of nourishment; which is done by some
outward emollients, that make the parts more apt to
assimilate. For which I have compounded an oint-
ment of excellent odour, which I call Roman oint-
ment ; vide the receipt. The use of it would be be-
tween sleeps -3 for in the latter sleep the parts assimi-
late chiefly.

Experiment solitary touching Filum medicinale.

60. THERE be many medicines, which by them-
selves would do no cure, but perhaps hurt ; but being
applied in a certain order, one after another, do great
cures. I have tried, myself, a remedy for the gout,
which hath seldom failed, but driven it a way in twenty-
four hours space : it is first to apply a poultis, of which
tide the receipt, and then a bath, or fomentation, of

Centv I.] Natural Histortj. 273

which vide the receipt; and then a plaistcr, vide the
receipt. The poultis relaxeth the pores, and maketh
the humour apt to exhale. The fomentation calleth
forth the humour by vapours ; but yet in regard of the
way made by the poultis, draweth gently ; and there-
fore draweth the humour out, and doth not draw
more to it ; for it is a gentle fomentation, and hath
withal a mixture, though very little, of some stupefao
tive. The plaister is a moderate astringent plaister,
which repelleth new humours from falling. The
poultis alone would make the part more sott and weak,
and apter to take the defluxion and impression of the
humour. The fomentation alone, if it were too
weak, without way made by the poultis, would draw
forth little ; if too strong, it would draw to the part,
as well as draw from it. The plaister alone would
pen the humour already contained in the part, and so
exasperate it, as wrell as forbid new humour. There-
fore they must be all taken in order, as is said. The
poultis is to be laid to for two or three hours : the fo-
mentation for a quarter of an hour, or somewhat bet-
ter, being used hot, and seven or eight times re-
peated : the plaister to continue on still, till the part
be well confirmed.

Experiment solitary touching cure by custom.

61. THERE is a secret way of cure, unpractised, by
assuetude of that which in itself hurteth. Poisons
have been made, by some, familiar, as hath been said.
Ordinary keepers of the sick of the plague are seldom
infected. Enduring of tortures, by custom, hath
been made more easy ; the brooking of enormous
quantity of meats, and so of wine or strong drink,
hath been, by custom, made to be without surfeit or
drunkennesss. And generally diseases that are chro-
nical, as coughs, phthisics, some kinds of palsies, lu-
nacies, etc. are most dangerous at the first : therefore
a wise physician will consider whether a disease be in-
cruable ; or whether the just cure of it be not full of
peril ; and if he find it to be such, let him resort to pal-
liation ; and alleviate the symptom, without busying

Natural History. [Cent. I.

himself too much with the perfect cure : and many
times, if the patient be indeed patient, that course
will exceed all expectation. Likewise the patient
himself may strive, by little and little, to overcome
the symptom in the exacerbation, and so by time,
turn suffering into nature.

Experiment solitary touching cure by excess.

62. DIVERS diseases, especially chronical, such as
quartan agues, are sometimes cured by surfeit and
excesses : as excess of meat, excess of drink, extra-
ordinary fasting, extraordinary stirring or lassitude,
and the like. The cause is, for that diseases of con-
tinuance get an adventitious strength from custom,
besides their material cause from the humours: so that
the breaking of the custom doth leave them only to
their first cause; which if it be any thing weak will
fall off. Besides, such excesses do excite and spur
nature, which thereupon rises more forcibly against
the disease.

Experiment solitary touching cure by motion of consent.

63. THERE is in the body of man a great consent
in the motion of the several parts. We see, it is
childrens sport, to prove whether they can rub
upon their breast with one hand, and pat upon their
forehead with another; and straightways they shall
sometimes rub with both hands, or pat with both
hands. We see, that when the spirits that come
to the nostrils expel a bad scent, the stomach is
ready to expel by vomit. We find that in consump-
tions of the lungs, when nature cannot expel by
cough, men fall into fluxes of the belly, and then
they die. So in pestilent diseases, if they cannot be
expelled by sweat, they fall likewise into looseness;
and that is commonly mortal. Therefore physicians
should ingeniously contrive, how by emotions that are
in their power, they may excite inward motions that
are not in their power, by consent : as by the stench
of feathers, or the like, they cure the rising of the
mother.

Cent. I.] Natural History. 275

Experiment solitary touching cure of diseases which art
contrary to 'predisposition.

64. HIPPOCRATES' aphorism, in morbis minus, is a
good profound aphorism. It importeth, that diseases,
contrary to the complexion, age, sex, season of the
year, diet, etc. are more dangerous than those that an;
concurrent. A man would think it should be other-
wise ; for that, when the accident of sickness, and
the natural disposition, do second the one the other,
the disease should be more forcible : and so, no doubt,
it is, if you suppose like quantity of matter. Bat
that which maketh good the aphorism is, because
such diseases do shew a greater collection of matter,
by that they are able to overcome those natural in-
clinations to the contrary. And therefore in diseases
of that kind, let the physician apply himself more to
purgation than to alteration ; because the offence is
in the quantity; and the qualities are rectified of*
themselves.

Experiment solitary, touching preparations before purg-
ing, and settling of the body afterwards.

65. PHYSICIANS do wisely prescribe, that there be
preparatives used before just purgations ; for certain
it is, that purgers do many times great hurt, if the
body be not accommodated, both before and after the
purging. The hurt that they do, for want of pre-
paration before purging, is by the sticking of the hu-
mours, and their not coming fair away; which causeth
in the body great perturbations and ill accidents dur-
ing the purging ; and also the diminishing and dul-
ling of the working of the medicine itself, that it
purgeth not sufficiently : therefore the work of pre-
paration is double ; to make the humours fluid and
mature, and to make the passages more open : for
both those help to make the humours pass readily.
And for the former of these, syrups are most profit-
able ; and for the latter, apozemes, or preparing
broths ; clysters also help, lest the medicine stop in
the guts, and work gripingly. But it is true, that

276 Natural History. [Cent. I.

bod res abounding with humours, and fat bodies, and
open weather, are preparatives in themselves ; be-
cause they make the humours more fluid. But let a
physician beware, how he purge after hard frosty
weather, and in a lean body, without preparation.
For the hurt that they may do after purging, it is
caused by the lodging of some humours in ill places :
for it is 'certain, that there be humours, which some-
where placed in the body, are quiet, and do little
hurt ; in 'Other places, especially passages, do much
mischief. Therefore it is good, after purging, to use
apozemes and broths, not so much opening as those
used before purging; but abstersive and mundifying
clysters also are good to conclude with, to draw away
the reliques of the humours, that may have descended
to the lower region of the body.

Experiment solitary touching stanching of blood.

66. BLOOD is stanched divers ways. First, by as-
tringents, and repercussive medicines. Secondly, by
drawing of the spirits and blood inwards ; which is
done by cold ; as iron or a stone laid to the neck
doth stanch the bleeding at the nose; also it hath
been tried, that the testicles being put into sharp
vinegar, hath made a sudden recess of the spirits, and
stanched blood. Thirdly, by the recess of the blood
by sympathy. So it hath been tried, that the part
that bleedeth, being thrust into the body of a capon
or sheep, new ript and bleeding, hath stanched blood ;
the blood, as it seemeth, sucking and drawing up,
by similitude of substance, the blood it meeteth with,
and so itself going back. Fourthly, by custom and
time ; so the Prince of Orange, in his first hurt by
the Spanish boy, could find no means to stanch the
blood, either by medicine or ligament; but was fain
to have the orifice of the wound stopped by men's
thumbs, succeeding one another, for the space at the
least of two days ; and at the last the bloocl by custom
only retired. There is a fifth way also in use, to let
blood in an adverse part, for a revulsion.

Cent. I.] Natural History. 277

Experiment solitary tauching change of aliments and

medicines. t »

61. IT helpeth, both in medicine and aliment, to
change and not to continue the same medicine and
aliment still. The cause is, for that nature, by con-
tinual use of any thing, groweth to a satiety and dul-
ness, either of appetite or working. And we see
that assuetude of things hurtful doth make them lose
their force to hurt; as poison, which with use some
have brought themselves to brook. And therefore it
is no marvel, though things helpful by custom lose
their force to help : I count intermission almost the
same thing with change ; for that that hath been in-
termitted, is after a sort new.

Experiment solitary touching diets. .

68. IT is found by experience, that in diets of
guaiacum, sarza, and the like, especially if they be
strict, the patient is more troubled in the beginning
than after continuance ; which hath made some of the
more delicate sort of patients give them over in the
midst ; supposing that if those diets trouble them so
much at first, they shall not be able to endure them
to the end. But the cause is, for that all those diets
do dry up humours, rheums, and the like ; and they
cannot dry up until they have first attenuated ; and
while the humour is attenuated, it is more fluid than
it was before, and troubleth the body a great deal
more, until it be dried up and consumed. And there-
fore patients must expect a due time, and not keck at
them at the first.

Experiments in consort, touching the production of cold.

THE producing of cold is a thing very worthy the
inquisition ; both for use and disclosure of causes.
For heat and cold are nature's two hands, whereby
she chiefly worketh ; and heat we have in readiness,
in respect of the fire -3 but for cold we must stay till
it cometh, or seek it in deep caves, or high moun-
tains : and when all is done, we cannot obtain it in

VOL. I. T

278 Natural History. [Cent. I.

any great degree : for furnaces of fire are far hotter
than a summer's sun ; but vaults or hills are not much
colder than a winter's frost.

69. THE first means of producing cold, is that
which nature presenteth us withal ; namely, the ex-
piring of cold out of the inward parts of the earth in
winter, when the sun hath no power to overcome
it ; the earth being, as hath been noted by some, pri-
mumfrlgidum. This hath been asserted, as well by
ancient as by modern philosophers : it was the tenet
of Parmenides. It was the opinion of the author of
the discourse in Plutarch, for I take it that book was
not Plutarch's own, De primo frigldo. It was the
opinion of Telesius, who hath renewed the philo-
sophy of Parmenides, and is the best of the novelists.

70. THE second cause of cold is the contact of cold
bodies ; for cold is active and transitive into bodies
adjacent, as well as heat : which is seen in those
things that are touched with snow or cold water. And
therefore, whosoever will be an inquirer into nature,
let him resort to a conservatory of snow and ice ;
such as they use for delicacy to cool wine in summer :
which is a poor and contemptible use, in respect of
other uses, that may be made of such conservatories.

71. THE third cause is the primary nature of all
tangible bodies : for it is well to be noted, that all
things, whatsoever, tangible, are of themselves cold >
except they have an accessory heat by fire, life, or
motion : for even the spirit of wine, or chemical oils,
which are so hot in operation, are to the first touch
cold ; and air itself compressed, and condensed a little
by blowing, is cold.

72. THE fourth cause is the density of the body ;
for all dense bodies are colder than most other bodies ;
as metals, stone, glass; and they are longer in heating
than softer bodies. And it is certain, that earth^
dense, tangible, hold all of the nature of cold. The
cause is, for that all matters tangible being cold, it
must needs follow, that where the matter is most con-
gregate, the cold is the greater.

73. THE fifth cause of cold, or rather of increase

Cent. I.] Natural History. 279

and vehemency of cold, is a quick spirit inclosed in
a cold body : as will appear to any that shall at-
tentively consider of nature in many instances. We
see nitre, which hath a quick spirit, is cold; more
cold to the tongue than a stone ; so water is colder
than oil, because it hath a quicker spirit; for all- oil,
though it hath the tangible parts better digested than
water, yet hath it a duller spirit : so snow is colder
than water, because it hath more spirit within it : so
we see that salt put to ice, as in the producing of the
artificial ice, increaseth the activity of cold : so some
insecta which have spirit of life, as snakes and silk-
worms, are to the touch cold : so quicksilver is the ,
coldest of metals, because it is fullest of spirit.

74. THE sixth cause of cold is the chasing and
driving away of spirits, such as have some degree 6f
heat : for the banishing of the heat must needs leave
any body cold. This we see in the operation of opium
and stupefactives upon the spirits of living creatures :
and it were not amiss to try opium, by laying it upon
the top of a weather-glass, to see whether it will con-
tract the air : but I doubt it will not succeed; for be-
sides that the virtue of opium will hardly penetrate
through such a body as glass, I conceive that opium,
and the like, make the spirits fly rather by malignity,
than by cold.

75. SEVENTHLY, the same effect must follow upon
the exhaling or drawing out of the warm spirits, that
doth upon the flight of the spirits. There is an opi-
nion, that the moon is magnetical of heat, as the sun
is of cold and moisture : it were not amiss therefore
to try it, with warm waters ; the one exposed to the
beams of the moon, the other with some skreen be-
twixt the beams of the moon and the water, as we
use to the sun for shade ; and to see whether the for-
mer will cool sooner. And it were also good to in-
quire, what other means there may be to draw forth
the exile heat which is in the air; for that may be a
secret of great power to produce cold weather,

T 2

-280 Natural History. [Cent. I,

Experiments in consort, touching the version and trans-
mutation of air into water.

WE have formerly set down the means of turning
air into water, in the experiment 27. But because
it is mag?iale nature, and tendeth to the subduing of
a very great effect, and is also of manifold use, we
will add some instances in consort that give light
thereunto.

76. IT is reported by some of the ancients, that
sailors have used, every night, to hang fleeces of
wool on the sides of their ships, the wool towards the
water; and that they have crushed fresh water out
of them, in the morning, for their use. And thus
much we have tried, that a quantity of wool tied
loose together, being let down into a deep well, and
hanging in the middle, some three fathom from the
water, for a night, in the winter time ; increased in
weight, as I now remember, to a fifth part.

77. It is reported by one of the ancients, that in
Lydia, near Pergamus, there were certain workmen
in time of wrars fled into caves ; and the mouth of
the caves being stopped by the enemies, they were
famished. But long time after the dead bones were
found ; and some vessels which they had carried with
them ; and the vessels full of water ; and that water
thicker, and more towards ice, than common water :
which is a notable instance of condensation and in-
duration by burial under earth, in caves, for long
time ; and of version also as it should seem of air into
water ; if any of those vessels were empty. Try there-
fore a small bladder hung in snow, and the like in
nitre, and the like in quicksilver : and if you find the
bladders fallen or shrunk, you may be sure the air is
condensed by the cold of those bodies, as it would be
in a cave under earth.

78. IT is reported of very good credit, that in the
East Indies, if you set a tub of water open in a room
where cloves are kept, it will be drawn dry in twenty-
four hours ; though it stand at some distance from the
cloves. In the country, they use many times, in de-
ceit, when their wool is new shorn, to set some pails

Cent. I.] Natural History. 281

of water by in the same room, to increase the weight
of the wool. But it may be, that the heat of the
wool, remaining from the body of the sheep, or the
heat gathered by the lying close of the wool, helpcth
to draw the watery vapour.; but that is nothing to
the version.

79. IT is reported also credibly, that wool new
shorn, being laid casually upon a vessel of verjuice,
after some time, had drunk up a great part of the
verjuice, though the vessel were whole without any
flaw, and had not the bung-hole open. In this in-
stance, there is, upon the by, to be noted, the per-
colation or suing of the verjuice through the wood ;
for verjuice of itself would never have passed through
the wood : so as, it seemeth, it must be first in a kind
of vapour, before it pass.

80. IT is especially to be noted, that the cause that
doth facilitate the version of air into water, when the
air is not in gross, but subtilly mingled with tangible
bodies, is, as hath been partly touched before, for
that tangible bodies have an antipathy with air ; and
if they find any liquid body that is more dense near
them, they will draw it : and after they have drawn
it, they will condense it more, and in effect incor-
porate it ; for we see that a spunge, or wool, or
sugar, or a woollen cloth, being put but in part in
water or wine, will draw the liquor higher, and
beyond the place where the water or wine cometh.
We see also, that wood, lute strings, and the like,
do swell in moist seasons ; as appeareth by the break-
ing of the strings, the hard turning of the pegs, and
the hard drawing forth of boxes, and opening of
wainscot doors ; which is a kind of infusion ; and is
much like to an infusion in water, which will make
wood to swell ; as we see in the filling of the chops
of bowls, by laying them in water. But for that part
of these experiments which concerneth attraction, we
will reserve it to the proper title of attraction.

81. THERE is also a version of air into water seen
in the sweating of marbles and other stones ; and of
wainscot . before and in .moist weather. This must

282 Natural History. [Cent. I.

be, either by some moisture the body yieldeth, or else
by the moist air thickened against the hard body.
But it is plain, that it is the latter ; for that we see
wood painted with oil colour, will sooner gather
drops in a moist night, than wood alone ; which is
caused by the smoothness and closeness; which letteth
in no part of the vapour, and so turneth it back, and
thickeneth it into dew. We see also, that breathing
upon a glass, or smooth body, giveth a dew ; and in
frosty mornings, such as we call rime frosts, you shall
find drops of dew upon the inside of glass windows ;
and the frost itself upon the ground is but a version
or condensation of the moist vapours of the night,
into a watery substance : dews likewise, and rain,
are but the returns of moist vapours condensed ; the
dew, by the cold only of the sun's departure, which is
the gentler cold ; rains, by the cold of that which
they call the middle region of the air; which is the
more violent cold.

82. IT is very probable, as hath been touched, that
that which will turn water into ice, will likewise
turn air some degree nearer unto water. Therefore
try the experiment of the artificial turning water
into ice, whereof we shall speak in another place,
with air in place of water, and the ice about it. And
although it be a greater alteration to turn air into
water, than water into ice ; yet there is this hope,
that by continuing the air longer time, the effect will
follow : for that artificial conversion of water into
ice, is the work of a few hours ; and this qf air may
be tried by a month's space, or the like.

Experiments in consort touching induration of bodies.

INDURATION, or lapidification of substances more
soft, is likewise another degree qf condensation ;
and ig a great alteration in nature. The effecting
and accelerating thereof is very worthy to be in-
quired. It is effected by three means. The first is
by cold ; whose property is to condense and con-
stipate, as hath been said. The second is by heat ;
\vhich is not proper but by consequence ; for the

Cent. I.] Natural History. 283

heat doth attenuate ; and by attenuation doth send
forth the spirit and moister part of a body ; and
upon that, the more gross of the tangible parts do
contract and serre themselves together; both to avoid
vacuum, as they call it, and also to munite themselves
against the force of the fire, which they have suf-
fered. And the third is by assimulation ; when a
hard body assimulateth a soft, being contiguous to it.

The examples of induration, taking them promis-
cuously, are many : as the generation of stones within
the earth, which at the first are but rude earth or
clay : and so of minerals, which come, no doubt, at
first of juices concrete, which afterwards indurate :
and so of porcellane, which is an artificial cement,
buried in the earth a long time ; and so the making
of brick and tile : also the making of glass of a cer-
tain sand and brake-roots, and some other matters ;
also the exudations of rock-diamonds and crystal,
which harden with time ; also the induration of bead-
amber, which at first is a soft substance ; as appeareth
by the flies and spiders which are found in it ; and
many more : but we will speak of them distinctly.

83. FOR indurations by cold, there be few trials of
it ; for we have no strong or intense cold here on the
surface of the earth, so near the beams of the sun,
and the heavens. The likeliest trial is by snow and
ice ; for as snow and ice, especially being holpen and
their cold activated by nitre or salt, will turn water
into ice, and that in a few hours ; so it may be, it
will turn wood or stiff clay into stone, in longer time.
Put therefore into a conserving pit of snow and ice,
adding some quantity of salt and nitre, a piece of
wood, or a piece of tough clay, and let it lie a month
or more.

84. ANOTHER trial is by metalline waters, which
have virtual cold in them. Put therefore wood or
clay into smiths water, or other metalline water, and
try whether it will not harden in some reasonable
time. But I understand it of metalline waters that
come by washing or quenching ; and not of strong
waters that come by dissolution •> for they are too
corrosive to consolidate.

284- Natural History. [Cent. I.

85. IT is already found that there are some natural
spring waters, that will inlapidate wood ; so that you
shall see one piece of wood, whereof the part above
the water shall continue wood ; and the part under
the water shall be turned into a kind of gravelly
stone. It is likely those waters are of some metalline
mixture ; but there would be more particular inquiry
made of them. It is certain, that an egg was found,
having laid many years in the bottom of a mote,
where the earth had somewhat overgrown it ; and
this egg was come to the hardness of a stone, and
had the colours of the white and yolk perfect, and the
shell shining in small grains like sugar or alabaster.

86. ANOTHER experience there is of induration by
cold, which is already found ; which is, that metals
themselves are hardened by often heating and quench-
ing in cold water: for cold ever worketh most po-
tently upon heat precedent.

87. FOR induration by heat, it must be considered,
that heat, by the exhaling of the moister parts, doth
either harden the body, as in bricks, tiles, etc. or if
the heat be more fierce, maketh the grosser part itself
run and melt ; as in the making of ordinary glass ;
and in the vitrification of earth, as we see in the
inner parts of furnaces, and in the vitrification of
brick, and of metals. And in the former of these,
which is the hardening by baking without melting,
the heat hath these degrees ; first, it indurateth, and
then maketh fragile j and lastly it doth incinerate
and calcinate.

88. BUT if you desire to make an induration with
toughness, and less fragility, a middle way should be
taken ; which is that which Aristotle hath well
rioted ; but should be thoroughly verified. Jt is to
decoct bodies in water for two or three days ; but
they must be such bodies into which the water will
not enter ; as stone and metal : for if they be bodies
into which the water will enter, then long seething
will rather soften than indurate them ; as hath been
tried in eggs, etc. therefore softer bodies must be put
into bottles^ and the bottles hung into water seething,

Cent. I.] Natural History. 28 j

with the mouths open above the water, that no water
may get in ; tor by this means the virtual heat of the
water will enter; and sueh a heat, as will not make
the body adust or fragile ; but the substance of the
water will be shut out. This experiment we made ;
and it sorted thus. It was tried with a piece of tree-
stone, and with pewter, put into the water at large.
The free-stone we found received in some water ;
for it was softer and easier to scrape than a piece of
the same stone kept dry. But the pewter, into which
no water could enter, became more white and liker
to silver, and less flexible by much. There were
also put into an earthen bottle, placed as before, a
good pellet of clay, a piece of cheese, a piece of
chalk, and a piece of free-stone. The clay came
forth almost of the hardness of stone ; the cheese
likewise very hard, and not well to be cut; the chalk
and free-stone much harder than they were. The
colour of the clay inclined not a whit to the colour
of brick, but rather to white, as in ordinary drying
by the sun. Note, that all the former trials were
made by a boiling upon a good hot fire, renewing
the water as it consumed, with other hot water; but
the boiling was but for twelve hours only ; and it
is like that the experiment would have been more
effectual, if the boiiing had been for two or three
days, as we prescribed before.

89. As touching assimilation, for there is a degree
of assimilation even in inanimate bodies, we see ex-
amples of it in some stones in clay-grounds, lying
near to the top of the earth, where pebble is ; in
which you may manifestly see divers pebbles gathered
together, and a crust of cement or stone between
them, as hard as the pebbles themselves: and it were
good to make a trial of purpose, by taking clay, and
putting in it divers pebble stones, thick set, to see
whether in continuance of time, it will not be harder
than other clay of the same lump, in which no pebbles
are set. We see also in ruins of old walls, especially
towards the bottom, the mortar will become as .hard
as the brick: we see also, thai the wood on the sides

286 Natural History. [Cent. I.

of vessels of wine, gathereth a crust of tartar, harder
than the wood itself; and scales likewise grow to
the teeth harder than the teeth themselves.

90. MOST of all, induration by assimilation appear-
eth in the bodies of trees and living creatures : for
no nourishment that the tree receiveth, or that the
living creature receiveth, is so hard as wood, bone,
or horn, etc. but is indurated after by assimilation.

Experiment solitary touching the version of water into

air.

91. THE eye of the understanding is like the eye
of the sense : for as you may see great objects
through small crannies or levels ; so you may see
great axioms of nature through small and contempti-
ble instances. The speedy depredation of air upon
watry moisture, and version of the same into air,
appeareth in nothing more visible, than in the sudden
discharge or vanishing of a little cloud of breath or
vapour from glass, or the blade of a sword, or any
such polished body, such as doth not at all detain
or imbibe the moisture ; for the mistiness scattereth
and breaketh up suddenly. But the like cloud, if it
were oily or fatty, will not discharge ; not because
it sticketh faster ; but because air preyeth upon
\vater ; and flame and fire upon oil ; and therefore to
take out a spot of grease they use a coal upon brown
paper; because fire worketh upon grease or oil, as
air doth upon water. And we see paper oiled, or
wood oiled, or the like, last long moist ; but wet
with water, dry or putrify sooner. The cause is, for
that air meddleth little with the moisture of oil.

Experiment solitary touching the force of union.

92. THERE is an admirable demonstration in the
same' trifling instance of the little cloud upon glass,
or gems, or blades of swords, of the force of union,
even in the least quantities and weakest bodies, how
much it conduceth to preservation of the present
form, and the resisting of a new. For mark well
the discharge of that cloud ; and you shall see it

Cent. I.] Natural History. 237

ever break up, first in the skirts and last in the
midst. We see likewise, that much water draweth
forth the juice of the body infused ; but little water
is imbibed by the body : and this is a principal
cause, why in operation upon bodies for their version
or alteration, the trial in great quantities doth not
answer the trial in small; and so deceiveth many;
for that, I say, the greater body resisteth more any
alteration of form, and requireth far greater strength
in the active body that should subdue it.

Experiment solitary touching the producing of feathers
and hairs of divers colours.

93. WE have spoken before, in the fifth instance,
of the cause, of orient colours in birds; which is by
the fineness of the strainer ; we will now endeavour
to reduce the same axiom to a work. For this writing
of our Sylva Sylvarum is, to speak properly, not na-
tural history, but a high kind of natural magic. For
it is not a description only of nature, but a breaking
of nature into great and strange works. Try there-
fore the anointing over of pigeons, or other birds,
when they are but in their down ; or of whelps,
cutting their hair as short as may be ; or of some
other beast ; with some ointment that is not hurtful
to the flesh, and that will harden and stick very close;
and see whether it will not alter the colours of the
feathers or hair. It is received, that the pulling off
the first feathers of birds clean, will make the new
come forth white : and it is certain that white is a
penurious colour, and where moisture is scant. So
blue violets, and other flowers, if they be starved,
turn pale and white; birds and horses, by age or
scars, turn white : and the hoar hairs of men come
by the same reason. And therefore in birds, it is
very likely, that the feathers that come first will be
many times of divers colours, according to the nature
of the bird, for that the skin is more porous ; but
when the skin is more shut and close, the feathers
will come white. This is a good experiment, not
only for the producing of birds and beasts of strange

288 Natural History. [Cent. I.

colours ; but also for the disclosure of the nature of
colours themselves ; which of them require a finer
porosity, and which a grosser.

Experiment solitary touching the nourishment of living
creatures before they be brought forth.

91. IT is a work of providence, that hath been
truly observed by some, that the yolk of the egg con-
duceth little to the generation of the bird, but only
to the nourishment of the same : for if a chicken
be opened, when it is new hatched, you shall find
much of the yolk remaining. And it is needful, that
birds that are shaped without the female's womb have
in the egg, as well matter of nourishment^ as matter
of generation for the body. For after the egg is laid,
and severed from the body of the hen, it hath no
more nourishment from the hen, but only a quickning
heat when she sitteth. But beasts and men need
not the matter of nourishment within themselves,
because they are shaped within the womb of the
female, and are nourished continually from her body.

Experiments in consort touching sympathy and antipathy
for medicinal use.

95. IT is an inveterate and received opinion, that
cantharides applied to any part of the body, touch
the bladder and exulcerate it, if they stay on long.
It is likewise received, that a kind of stone, which
they bring out of the West-Indies, hath a peculiar
force to move gravel, and to dissolve the stone ; in-
somuch, as laid but to the wrist, it hath so forcibly
sent down gravel, as men have been glad to remove
it, it was so violent.

96. IT is received, and confirmed by daily experi-
ence, that the soles of the feet have great affinity
with the head and the mouth of the stomach : as we
see, going wet-shod, to those that use it not, affecteth
both : applications of hot powders to the feet attenu-
ate first, and after dry the rheum : and therefore a
physician that would be mystical, prescribcth for the
cure of the rheum, that a man should walk continu-

Cent. I.] Natural History. 289

ally upon a camomile-alley ; meaning, that he should
put camomile within his socks. Likewise pigeons
bleeding, applied to the soles of the feet, ease the
head : and soporiferous medicines applied unto them,
provoke sleep.

97. IT seemeth, that as the feet have a sympathy
with the head, so the wrists and hands have a sym-
pathy with the heart -, we see the affections and
passions of the heart and spirits are notably disclosed
by the pulse : and it is often tried, that juices of
stock-gilly-flowers, rose-campian, garlick, and other
things, applied to the wrists, and renewed, have
cured long agues. And I conceive, that washing
with certain liquors the palms of the hands dotb
much good : and they do well in heats of agues, to
hold in the hands eggs of alabaster and balls of
crystal.

Of these things we shall speak more, when we
handle the title of sympathy and antipathy in the
proper place.

Experiment solitary touching the secret processes o?

nature.

98. THE knowledge of man hitherto hath been
determined by the view or sight ; so that whatsoever
is invisible, either in respect of the fineness of the
body itself, or the smallness of the parts, or of the
subtilty of the motion, is little inquired. And yet
these be the things that govern nature principally ;
and without which you cannot make any true ana-
lysis and indication of the proceedings of nature,
The spirits or pneumaticals, that are in all tangible
bodies, are scarce known. Sometimes they take
them for vacuum; whereas they are the most active
of bodies. Sometimes they take them for air; from
which they differ exceedingly, as much as wine from
water; and as wood from earth. Sometimes they
will have them to be natural heat, or a portion of the
element of tire ; whereas some of them are crude and
cold. And sometimes they will have them to be
the virtues and qualities of the tangible parts winch

29O Natural History. [Cent. I.

they see ; whereas they arc things by themselves.
And then when they come to plants and living crea-
tures, they call them souls. And such superficial
speculations they have ; like prospectives, that shew
things inward when they are but paintings. Neither
is this a question of words, but infinitely material in
nature. For spirits are nothing else but a natural
body, rarified to a proportion, and included in the
tangible parts of bodies, as in an integument. And
they be no less differing one from the other, than the
dense or tangible parts ; and they are in all tangible
bodies whatsoever more or less ; and they are never
almost at rest: and from them and their motions,
principally proceed arefaction, colliquation, concoc-
tion, maturation, putrefaction, vivification, and most
of the effects of nature : for, as we have figured them
in our Sapientia veterum, in the fable of Proserpina,
you shall in the infernal regiment hear little doings of
I3luto, but most of Proserpina : for tangible parts in
bodies are stupid things; and the spirits do in effect
all. As for the differences of tangible parts in
bodies, the industry of the chemists hath given some
light, in discerning by their separations the oily, crude,
pure, impure, fine, gross parts of bodies, and the
like. And the physicians are content to acknow-
ledge, that herbs and drugs have divers parts; as
that opium hath a stupefactive part and a heating
part; the one moving sleep, the other a sweat follow-
ing ; and that rhubarb hath purging parts and astrin-
gent parts, etc. But this whole inquisition is weakly
and negligently handled. And for the more subtle
differences of the minute parts, and the posture of
them in the body, which also hath great effects, they
are not at all touched: as for the motions of the
minute parts of bodies, which do so great effects,
they have not been observed at all ; because they are
invisible, and occur not to the eye ; but yet they are
to be deprehended by experience : as Democritus
said well, when they charged him to hold, that the
world was made of such little motes, as were seen in
the sun ; Atomus> saith he, necessitate rationis ct ex-

Cent. I.] Natural History. 291

perientitf csse convinciturj atomwn cnim nemo unquam
vidit. And therefore the tumult in the parts of solid
bodies, when they are compressed, which is the
cause of all flight of bodies through the air, and of
other mechanical motions, as hath been partly touched
before, and shall be thoroughly handled in due place,
is not seen at all. But nevertheless, if you know it
not, or inquire it not attentively and diligently, you
shall never be able to discern, and much less to.
produce a number of mechanical motions. Again,
as to the motions corporal, within the inclosures of
bodies, whereby the effects, which were mentioned
before, pass between the spirits and the tangible
parts, which are arefaction, colliquation, concoction,
maturation, etc. they are not at all handled. But they
are put off by the names of virtues, and natures, and
actions, and passions, and such other logical words%

Experiment solitary touching the power of heat.

99. IT is certain, that of all powers in nature heat
is the chief; both in the frame of nature, and in the
works of art. Certain it is likewise, that the effects
of heat are most advanced, when it worketh upon a
body without loss or dissipation of the matter ; for
that ever betrayeth the account. And therefore it
is true, that the power of heat is best perceived in
distillations which are performed in close vessels and
receptacles. But yet there is a higher degree; for.
howsoever distillations do keep the body in cells
and cloisters, without going abroad, yet they give
space unto bodies to turn into vapour: to return into
liquor; and to separate one part from another. So
as nature doth expatiate, although it hath not full li-
berty: whereby the true and ultime operations of
heat are not attained. But if bodies may be altered
by heat, and yet no such reciprocation of rarefaction,
and of condesation, and of separation, admitted; then
it is like that this Proteus of matter, being held by the
sleeves, will turn and change into many metamor-
phoses. Take therefore a square vessel of iron, in form
of a cube, and let it have good thick and strong sides.

292 Natural History. [Cent. I.

Put into it a cube of wood, that may fill it as close as
may be ; and let it have a cover oi iron, as strong at
least as the sides; and let it be well luted, after the
manner of the chemists. Then place the vessel
within burning coals, kept quick kindled for some
few hours space. Then take the vessel from the fire,
and take off the cover, and see what is become of the
wood I conceive, that since all inflammation and
evaporation are utterly prohibited, and the body still
turned upon itself, that one of these two effects will
follow: either that the body of the wood will be
turned into a kind of amalgama, as the chemists call
it, or that the finer part will be turned into air, and
the grosser stick as it were baked, and incrustate
upon the sides of the vessel, being become of a denser
matter than the wood itself crude. And for another
trial, take also water, and put it in the like vessel,
stopped as before; but use a gentler heat, and remove
the vessel sometimes from the fire ; and again, after
some small time, when it is cold, renew the heat-
ing of it; and repeat this alteration some few times:
and if you can once bring to pass, that the water,
which is one of the simplest of bodies, be changed
in colour, odour, or taste, after the manner of com-
pound bodies, you may be sure that there is a great
work wrought in nature, and a notable entrance
made into strange changes of bodies and productions;
and also a way made to do that by fire, in small time,
which the sun and age do in long time. But of the
admirable effects of this distillation in close, for so
we will call it, which is like the wombs and matrices
of living creatures, where nothing expireth nor se-
parateth, we will speak fully, in the due place; not
that we aim at the making of Paracelus' pygmies,
or any such prodigious follies; but that we know the
effects of heat will be such, as will scarce fall under
the conceit of man, if the force of it be altogether
kept in.

Cent. I.] Natural History. 293

Experiment solitary touching tJtc impossibility of
annihilation.

100. THERE is nothing more certain in nature than
that it is impossible for any body to be utterly anni-
hilated; but that, as it was the work of the omnipo-
tency of God to make somewhat of nothing, so it re-
quireth the like pmni potency to turn somewhat into
nothing. And therefore it is well said by an ob-
scure writer of the sect of the chemists; that there
is no such way to effect the strange transmutations
of bodies as to endeavour and urge by all means the
reducing of them to nothing. And herein is con-
tained also a great secret >,of preservation of bodies
from change ; for if you can prohibit, that they neither
turn into air because no air cometh to them ; nor
go into the bodies adjacent, because they are utterly
heterogeneal ; nor make a round and circulation
within themselves; they will never change, though
they be in their nature never so perishable or mutable,.
We see how flies, and spiders, and the like, get a se-
pulchre in amber, more durable than the monument
and embalming of the body of any king. And I con-
ceive the like will be of bodies put into quicksilver.
But then they must be but thin, as a leaf, or a piece
of paper or parchment; for if they have a greater
crassitude, they will alter in their own body, though
they spend not. But of this we shall speak more
when we handle the title of conservation of bodies.

VOL. I,

[ 294 ]
NATURAL HISTORY,

CENTURY II.

Experiments in consort touching Music.

JVlUSIC, in the practice, hath been well pursued,
and in good variety ; but in the theory, and especially
in the yielding of the causes of the practice, very
weakly ; being reduced into certain mystical subtilties
of no use and not much truth. We shall, therefore,
after our manner, join the contemplative and active
part together.

101. ALL sounds are either musical sounds, which
we call tones ; whereunto there may be an harmony ;
which sounds are ever equal ; as singing, the sounds
of stringed and wind instruments, the ringing of bells,
etc. or immusical sounds, which are ever unequal;
such as are the voice in speaking, all whisperings, all
voices of beasts and birds, except they be singing
birds, all percussions of stones, wood, parchment,
skins, as in drums, and infinite others.

102. THE sounds that produce tones, are ever from
such bodies as are in their parts and pores equal ; as well
as the sounds themselves are equal ; and such are the
percussions of metal, as in bells ; of glass, as in the
fillipping of a drinking glass ; of air, as in mens voices
whilst they sing, in pipes, whistles, organs, stringed
instruments, etc. and of water, as in the nightingale
pipes of regals, or organs, and other hydraulics ; which
the ancients had, and Nero did so much esteem, but
are now lost. And if any man think, that the string
of the bow and the string of the viol are neither of
them equal bodies, and yet produce tones, he is in an
error. For the sound is not created, between the bow
or plectrum and the string; but between the string
and the air; no more than it is between the ringer or
quill, and the string in other instruments. So there

Cent. II.] Natural History. 295

are, in effect, but three percussions that create tones •,
percussions of metals, comprehending glass and the
like, percussions of air, and percussions of water.

103. THE diapason or eight in music is the sweetest
concord, in so much as it is in effect an unison ; as we
see in lutes that are strung in the base strings with two
strings, one an eight above another; which make but
as one sound. And every eighth note in ascent, as
from eight to fifteen, from fifteen to twenty-two,
and so in infinitum, are but scales of diapason. The
cause is dark, and hath not been rendred by any; and
therefore would be better contemplated. It seemeth
that air, which is the subject of soundsHn sounds that
are not tones, which are all unequal, as hath been
said, admitteth much variety; as we see in the voices
of living creatures; and likewise in the voices of se-
veral men, for we are capable to discern several men
by their voices, and in the conjugation of letters,
whence articulate sounds proceed; which of all others
are most various. But in the sounds which we call
tones, that are ever equal, the air is not able to cast
itself into any such variety ; but is forced to recur into
one and the same posture or figure, only differing in
greatness and smallness. So we see figures may be
made of lines, crooked and straight, in infinite varietv,
where there is inequality; but circles, or squares, or
triangles equilateral, which are all figures of equal
lines, can differ but in greater or lesser.

104. IT is to be noted, the rather lest any man
should think, that there is any thing in this number of
eight, to create the diapason, that this computation of
eight is a thing rather received, than any true compu-
tajtion. For a true computation ought ever to be by
distribution into equal portions. Now there be in-
tervenient in the rise of eight, in tones, two beemolls,
or half notes : so as if you divide the tones equally,
the eight is but seven whole and equal notes ; and if
you subdivide that into half-notes, as it is in the stops
of a lute, it maketh the number of thirteen.

105. YET this is true; that in the ordinary rises
and falls of the voice of man, not measuring the tone

u 2

Natural History. [Cent. II.

by whole notes, and half-notes, which is the equal
measure, there fall out to be two beemolls, as hath
been said, between the unison and the diapason : and
this varying is natural. For if a man would endea-
vour to raise or fall his voice, still by half-notes, like
the stops of a lute ; or by whole notes alone without
halfs, as far as an eight ; he will not be able to frame
his voice unto it. Which sheweth, that after every
three whole notes, nature requireth, for all harmonical
use, one half-note to be interposed.

106. IT is to be considered, that whatsoever virtue
is in numbers, for conducing to concent of notes, is
rather to be ascribed to the ante-number, than to the en-
tire number ; as namely, that the sound returneth after
six or after twelve ; so that the seventh or the thirteenth
is not the matter, but the sixth or the twelfth ; and the
seventh and the thirteenth are but the limits and boun-
daries of the return.

107. THE concords in music which are perfect or
semiperfect, between the unison and the diapason,
are the fifth, which is the most perfect; the third
next ; and the sixth, which is more harsh : and, as
the ancients esteemed, and so do myself and some
other yet, the fourth which they call diatessaron. As
for the tenth, twelfth, thirteenth, and so in infinitum ;
they be but recurrences of the former, viz. of the third,
the fifth, and the sixth 5 being an eight respectively
from them.

108. FOR discords, the second and the seventh are
of all others the most odious, in harmony, to the
sense ; whereof the one is next above the unison, the
other next under the diapason: which may shew, that
harmony requireth a competent distance of notes.

109. IN harmony, if there be not a discord to the
base, it doth not disturb the harmony, though there be
a djscord to the higher parts ; so the discord be not of
the two that are odious ; and therefore the ordinary
concent of four parts consisteth of an eight, a fifth, and
a third to the base ; but that fifth is a fourth to the
treble, and the third is a sixth. And the cause is, for
that the base striking more air, doth overcome and

Cent. II.] Natural History. 297

drown the treble, unless the discord be very odious ;
and so hideth a small imperfection. For we see, that
in one of the lower strings of a lute, there spundeth
not the sound of the treble, nor any mixt sound, but.
only the sound of the base.

HO. WE have no music of quarter-notes; and it
may be they are not capable of hanpony ; for we see
the half-notes themselves do but interpose sometimes.
Nevertheless we have some slides or relishes of the
voice or strings, as it were continued without notes,
from one tone to another, rising or falling, which are
delightful.

111. THS causes of that which is pleasing or ingrate
to the hearing, may receive light by that which is
pleasing or ingrate to the sight. There be two things
pleasing to the sight, leaving pictures and shapes
aside, which are but secondary objects ; and please or
displease but in memory ; these two are colours and
order. The pleasing of colour symbolizeth with the
pleasing of any single tone to the ear ; but the pleas-
ing of order doth symbolize with harmony. And
therefore we see in garden-knots, and the frets of
houses, and all equal and well answering figures, as
globes, pyramids, cones, cylinders, etc. how they
please : whereas unequal figures are but deformities.
And both these pleasures, that of the eye, and that of
the ear, are but the effects of equality, good propor-
tion, or correspondence : so that, out of question,
equality and correspondence are the causes of harmony.
But to find the proportion of that correspondence, is
more abstruse ; whereof notwithstanding we shall
speak somewhat, when we handle tones in the gene-
ral enquiry of sounds.

112. TONES are not so apt altogether to procure
sleep, as some other sounds; as the wind, the purling
of water, humming of bees, a sweet voice of one that
readeth, etc. The cause whereof is, for that tones,
because they are equal and slide not, do more strike 4
and erect the sense than the other. And overmuch
attention hindereth sleep.

113. THERE be in music, certain figures or tropes,

298 Natural History. [Cent. II.

almost agreeing with the figures of rhetoric, and with
the affections of the mind, and other senses. First,
the division and quavering, which please so much in
music, have an agreement with the glittering of light;
as the moon-beams playing upon a wave. Again, the
falling from a discord to a concord, which maketh
great sweetness in music, hath an agreement with the
affections, which are reintegrated to the better, after
some dislikes : it agreeth, also with the taste, which
is soon glutted with that which is sweet alone. The
sliding from the close or cadence, hath an agreement
with the figure in rhetoric, which they call prater ex-
pectatum; for there is a pleasure even in being de-
ceived. The reports, and fuges, have an agreement
with the figures in rhetoric, of repetition and traduc-
tion. The triplas, and changing of times, have an
agreement with the changes of motions; as when gal-
liard time, and measured time, are in the medley of
one dance.

114. IT hath been anciently held and observed,
that the sense of hearing, and the kinds of music,
have most operation upon manners ; as, to encourage
men, and make them warlike ; to make them soft
and effeminate ; to make them grave ; to make them
light ; to make them gentle and inclined to pity, etc,
The cause is, for that the sense of hearing striketh
the spirits more immediatejy, than the other senses ;
and mqre incorporeally than the smelling; for the
sight, taste, and feeling, have their organs not of so
present and immediate access to the spirits, as the
hearing hath. And as for the smelling, which, in-*
deed worketh also immediately upon the spirits, and
is forcible while the object remaineth, it is with a
communication of the breath or vapour of the object
odorate ; but harmony entering easily, and mingling
not 'at all, and coming with a manifest motion, doth
by custom of often affecting the spirits, and putting
them into one kind of posture, aUer not a little the
nature of the spirits, even when the object is removed.
And therefore we see, that tunes and airs, even in their
own nature, have in themselves sqme affinity with

Cent. II.] Natural History. 299

the affections ; as there be merry tunes, doleful tunes,
solemn tunes; tunes inclining mens minds to pity;
warlike tunes, etc. So as it is no marvel it they alter
the spirits, considering that tunes have a predisposi-
tion to the motion of the spirits in themselves. But
yet it hath been noted, that though this variety of
tunes doth dispose the spirits to variety of passions,
conform unto them, yet generally music feedeth that
disposition of the spirits which it findeth. We see
also, that several airs and tunes do please several na-
tions and persons, according to the sympathy they
have with their spirits.

Experiments in consort touching sounds ; and first touch-
ing the nullity and entity of sounds.

PERSPECTIVE hath been with some diligence en-
quired; and so hath the nature of sounds, in some
sort, as far as concern eth music : but the nature of
sounds in general hath been superficially observed. It
is one of the subtilest pieces of nature. And besides,
1 practise, as I do advise ; which is, after long en-
quiry of things immersed in matter, to interpose some
subject which is immaterhite, or less materiatc ; such
as this of sounds ; to the end, that the intellect may
be rectified, and become not partial.

115. IT is first to be considered, what great mo-
tions there are in nature, which pass without sound
or noise. The heavens turn about in a most rapid
motion, without noise to us perceived ; though in
some dreams they have been said to make an excel-
lent music. So the motions of the comets, and fiery
meteors, as stella cadens, etc. yield no noise. And if
it be thought, that it- is. the greatness of distance from
us, whereby the sound cannot be heard ; we see that
lightnings and coruscations, which are near at hand,
yield no sound neither: and yet in all these, there is.
a percussion and division of' the air. The winds in
the upper region, which move the clouds above,
which we call the rack, and are not perceived below,
pass without noise. The lower winds in a plain, ex-
cept they be strong, make no noise ; but amongst trees.

300 Natural History. [Cent. II.

the noise of such winds will be perceived. And the
winds, generally, when they make a noise, do ever
make it unequally, rising and falling, and sometimes,
wrhen they are vehement, trembling at the height of
their blast. Rain or hail falling, though vehemently,
yieldeth no noise in passing through the air, till it
fall upon the ground, water, houses, or the like.
Water in a river, though a swift stream, is not heard
in the channel, but runneth in silence, if it be of any
depth ; but the very stream upon shallows, of gravel,
or pebble, will be heard. And waters, when they
beat upon the shore, or are straitned, as in the falls
of bridges, or are dashed against themselves, by winds,

five a roaring noise. Any piece of timber, or hard
ody, being thrust forwards by another body conti-
guous, without knocking, giveth no noise. And so
bodies in weighing one upon another, though the
upper body press the lower body down, make no
noise. So the motion in the minute parts of any solid
body, which is the principal cause of violent motion,
though unobserved, passeth without sound ; for that
sound that is heard sometimes, is produced only by
the breaking of the air; and not by the impulsion of
the parts. So it is manifest, that where the anterior
body giveth way, as fast as the posterior cometh on,
it maketh no noise, be the motion never so great or
swift.

1 16. AIR open, and at large, maketh no noise, ex-
cept it be sharply percussed ; as in the sound of a
string, where air is percussed by a hard and stiff body,
and with a sharp loose : for if the string be not strain-
ed, it maketh no noise. But where the air is pent
and straitned, there breath or other blowing, which
carry but a gentle percussion, suffice to create sound ;
as in pipes and wind-instruments. But then you must
note, that in recorders, which go with a gentle breath,
the concave of the pipe, were it not for the ripple
that straitneth the air, much more than the simple
concave, woujd yield no sound. For as for other
wind-instruments, they require a forcible breath ; as
trumpets, cornets, hunters horns, etc, which appeared)

Cent. II.] Natural History. 301

by the blown checks of him that windeth them. Organs
also are blown with a strong wind by the bellows.
And note again, that some kind of wind-instruments
are blown at a small hole in the side, which straitrieth
the breath at the first entrance ; the rather, in respect
of their traverse and stop above the hole, which per-
formeth the fipples part ; as it is seen in flutes and
fifes, which will not give sound by a blast at the end,
as recorders, etc. do. Likewise in all whistling, you
contract the mouth; and to make it more sharp, men
sometimes use their finger. But in open air, if you
throw a stone or a dart, they give no sound : no more
do bullets, except they happen to be a little hollowed
in the casting; which hollowness penneth the air:
nor yet arrows, except they be ruffled in their fea-
thers, which likewise penneth the air. As for small
whistles or shepherds oaten pipes, they give a sound
because of their extreme slenderness, whereby the air
is more pent, than in a wider pipe. Again, the voices
of men and living creatures pass through the throat,
which penneth the breath. As for the Jews-harp, it
is a sharp percussion ; and, besides, hath the advantage
of penning the air in the mouth.

1 17. SOLID bodies, if they be very softly percussed,
give no sound ; as when a man treadeth very softly
upon boards. So chests or doors in fair weather,
when they open easily, give no sound. And cart-
wheels squeak not when they are liquored.

118. THE flame of tapers or candles, though it be
a swift motion and breaketh the air, yet passeth with-
out sound. Air in ovens, though, no doubt, it doth,
as it were, boil and dilate itself, and is repercussed;
yet it is without noise.

1 19. FLAME percussed by air, giveth a noise; as in
blowing of the fire by bellows ; greater than if the
bellows should blow upon the air itself. And so like-
wise flame percussing the air strongly, as when flame
suddenly taketh and openethj giveth a noise ; so great
flames, while the one impelleth the other, give a bel-
lowing sound.

120. THERE is a conceit runneth abroad, that there

302 Natural History. [Cent. **•

should be a white powder, which will discharge a

piece without noise ; which is a dangerous experi-
ment if it should be true : for it may cause secret
murders. But it seemeth to me impossible; for, if
the air pent be driven forth and strike the air open, it
will certainly make a noise. As for the white pow-
der, if any such thing be, that may extinguish or
deaden the noise, it is like to be a mixture of petre
and sulphur, without coal. For petre alone will not
take fire. And if any man think, that the sound may
be extinguished or deadened by discharging the pent
air, before it cometh to the mouth of the piece and
to the open air, that is not probable ; for it will make
more divided sounds : as if you should make a cross-
barrel hollow through the barrel of a piece, it may
be it would give several sounds, both at the nose and
at the sides. But I conceive, that if it were possible
to bring to pass, that there should be no air pent at
the mouth of the piece, the bullet might fly with small
or no noise. For first it is certain, there is no noise
in the percussion of the flame upon the bullet. Next
the bullet, in piercing through the air, maketh no
noise; as hath been said. And then, if there be no
pent air that striketh upon open air, there is no cause
of noise ; and yet the flying of the bullet will not be
stayed. For that motion, as hath been oft said, is in
the parts of the bullet, and not in the air. So as trial
must be made by taking some small concave of metal,
no more than you mean to fill with powder, and lay-
ing the bullet in the mouth of it, half out into the
open air.

121. I HEARD it affirmed by a man that was a great
dealer in secrets, but he was but vain, that there was
a conspiracy, which himself hindred, to have killed
queen Mary, sister to queen Elizabeth, by a burning-
glas.s, when she walked in Saint James's park, from
the leads of the house. But thus much, no doubt, is
true ; that if burning-glasses could be brought to a
great strength, as they talk generally of burning-
glasses that are able to burn a navy, the percussion
ol the air alone, by such a burning-glass, would make

Cent. II.] Natural History. 303

no noise ; no more than is found in coruscations and
lightnings without thunders.

122. I SUPPOSE, that impression of the air with
sounds asketh a time to be conveyed to the sense,
as well as the impressing of species visible ; or else
they will not be heard. And therefore, as the bullet
moveth so swift that it is invisible ; so the same swift-
ness of motion maketh it inaudible : for we see, that
the apprehension of the eye is quicker than that of
the ear.

123. ALL eruptions of air, though small and slight,
give an entity of sound, which we call crackling, puf-
fing, spitting, etc. as in bay-salt, and bay-leaves, cast
into the fire; so in chesnuts, when they leap forth of
the ashes; so in green wood laid upon the fire, espe-
cially roots ; so in candles, that spit flame if they be
wet ; so in rasping, sneezing, etc. so in a rose leaf
gathered together into the fashion of a purse, and
broken upon the forehead, or back of the hand, as
children use.

Expei^iments in consort touching production, conserva-
tion, and dilation of sounds ; and the office of the air
therein.

124. THE cause given of sound, that it should be
an elision of the air, whereby, if they mean any thing,
they mean a cutting or dividing, or else an attenuating
of the air, is but a term of ignorance ; and the notion
is but a catch of the wit upon a few instances; as the
manner is in the philosophy received. And it is com-
mon with men, that if they have gotten a pretty ex-
pression by a word of art, that expression goeth cur-
rent ; though it be empty of matter. This conceit of
elision appeareth most manifestly to be false, in that
the sound of a bell, string, or the like, continueth
melting some time after the percussion; but ceaseth
straitways, if the bell, or string, be touched and stayed :
whereas, if it were the elision of the air that made the
sound, it could not be that the touch of the bell or
string should extinguish so suddenly that motiori
caused by the elision of the air. This appearetli -yet

304 Natural History. [Cent. II.

more manifestly by chiming with a hammer upon the
outside of a bell : for the sound will be according to
the inward concave of the bell ; whereas the elision
or attenuation of the air cannot be but only between
the hammer and the outside of the bell. So again, if
it were an elision, a broad hammer, and a bodkin,
struck upon metal, would give a diverse tone, as well
as a diverse loudness : but they do not so ; for though
the sound of the one be louder, and of the other
softer, yet the tone is the same. Besides, in echoes,
whereof some are as loud as the original voice, there
is no new elision, but a repercussion only. Bat that
which convinced! it most of all is, that sounds are
generated where there is no air at all. But these
and the like conceits, when men have cleared their
understanding by the light of experience, will scatter
and break up like a mist.

125. IT is certain, that sound is not produced at the
first, but with some local motion of the air, or flame,
or some other medium ; nor yet without some re-
sistance, either in the air or the body percussed. For
it there be a mere yielding or cession, it produceth no
sound ; as hath been said. And therein sounds differ
from light and colours, which pass through the air, or
other bodies, without any local motion of the air ;
either at the first, or after. But you must attentively
distinguish between the local motion of the air, which
is but vehiculwn causte, a carrier of the sounds, and
the sounds themselves, conveyed in the air. For as
to the former, we see manifestly, that no sound is
produced, no not by air itself against other air, as in
organs, etc. but with a perceptible blast of the air;
and with some resistance of the air strucken. For
even all speech, which is one of the gentlest motions
of air, is with expulsion of a little breath. And all
pipes have a blast, as well as a sound. We see also
manifestly, that sounds are carried with wind : and
therefore sounds will be heard further with the wind,
than against the wind : and likewise do rise and fall
with the intension or remission of the wind. But
tor the impression of the sound, it is quite another

Cent. II.] Natural History. 30,5

thing, and is utterly without any local motion of the
air, perceptible ; and in that resembleth the species
visible : for after a man hath lured, or a bell is rung,
we cannot discern any perceptible motion at all in
the air as the sound goeth along; but only at the first.
Neither doth the wind, as far as it carrieth a voice,
with the motion thereof, confound any of the delicate
and articulate figurations of the air, in variety of
words. And if a man speak a good loudness against
the flame of a candle, it will not make it tremble
much ; though most when those letters are pronounced
which contract the mouth ; as Fs S9 F, and some
others. But gentle breathing, or blowing without
speaking, will move the candle far more. And it is
the more probable, that sound is without any local
motion of the air, because as it differeth from the
sight, in that it needeth a local motion of the air at
first ; so it paralleled! in so many other things with
the sight, and radiation of things visible ; which,
without all question, induce no local motion in the
air, as hath been said.

126. NEVERTHELESS it is true, that upon the noise
of thunder, and great ordnance, glass windows will
shake ; and fishes are thought to be frightned with
the motion caused by noise upon the water. But
these effects are from the local motion of the air,
which is a concomitant of the sound, as hath been
said, and not from the sound.

127. IT hath been anciently reported, and is still
received, that extreme applauses and shouting of
people assembled in great multitudes, have so rariried
and broken the air, that birds flying over have fallen
down, the air being not able to support them. And
it is believed by some, that great ringing of bells in
populous cities hath chased away thunder ; and also
dissipated pestilent air : all which may be also from
the concussion of the air, and not from the sound.

128. A VERY great sound, near hand, hath strucken
many deaf; and at the instant they have found, as it
were, the breaking of a skin or parchment in their
ear: and myself standing near one that lured loud

£06 Natural History. [Cent. II.

and shrill, had suddenly an offence, as if somewhat
had broken or been dislocated in my ear ; and im-
mediately after a loud ringing, not an ordinary sing-
ing or hissing, but far louder and differing, so as I
feared some deafness. But after some half quarter of
an hour it vanished. This effect may be truly re-
ferred unto the sound : for, as is commonly received,
an over-potent object doth destroy the sense ; and
spiritual species, both visible and audible, will work
upon the sensories, though they move not any other
body.

129. IN dilation of sounds, the inclosure of them
preserveth them, and causeth them to be heard farther.
And we find in rolls of parchment or trunks, the mouth
being laid to the one end of the roll of parchment or
trunk, and the ear to the other, the sound is heard
much farther than in the open air. The cause is, for
that the sound spendeth, and is dissipated in the open
air; but; in such concaves it is conserved and con-
tracted. So also in a piece -of ordnance, if you speak
in the touchhole, and another lay his ear to the mouth
of the piece, the sound passeth and is far better heard
than in the open air.

130. IT is further to be considered, how it proveth
and worketh when the sound is not inclosed all the
length of its way, but passeth partly through open
air ; as where you speak some distance from a trunk ;
or where the ear is some distance from the trunk at
the other end ; or where both mouth and ear are dis-
tant from the trunk. And it is tried, that in a long
trunk of some eight or ten foot, the sound is holpen,
though both the mouth and the ear be a handful or
more from the ends of the trunk ; and somewhat more
holpen, when the ear of the hearer is near, than when
the mouth of the speaker. And it is certain, that
the voice is better heard in a chamber from abroad,
than abroad from within the chamber.

131. As the inclosure that is round about and in-
tire, preserveth the sound ; so doth a semi-concave,
though in a less degree. And therefore, if you divide
a trunk, or a cane into two, and one speak at the

Cent. II.] Natural History. 'f 307

one end, and you lay your car at the other, it will
carry the voice further, than in the air at large. Nay
further, if it be not a full semi-concave, but if you
do the like upon the mast of a ship, or a long pole,
or a piece of ordnance, though one speak upon the
surface of the ordnance, and not at any of the bores,
the voice will be heard further than in the air at large.

132. IT would be tried, how, and with what pro-
portion of disadvantage the voice will be carried in
an horn, which is a line arched; or in a trumpet,
which is a line retorted ; or in some pipe that were
sinuous.

133. IT is certain, howsoever it cross the received
opinion, that sounds may be created without air,
though air be the most favourable deferent of sounds.
Take a vessel of water, and knap a pair of tongs some
depth within the water, and you shall hear the sound
of the tongs well, and not much diminished ; and yet
there is no air at all present.

134. TAKE one vessel of silver and another of wood,
and fill each of them full of water, and then knap
the tongs together, as before, about an handful from
the bottom," and you shall find the sound much more
resounding from the vessel of silver, than from that
of wood : and yet if there be no water in the vessel,
so that you knap the tongs in the air, you shall find
no difference between the silver and the wooden
vessel. Whereby, beside the main point of creating
sound without air, you may collect two things : the
one, that the sound communicateth with the bottom
of the vessel ; the other, that such a communication
passeth far better through water than air.

135. STRIKE any hard bodies together in the midst
of a flame ; and you shall hear the sound with little
difference from the sound in the air.

136. THE pneumatical part which is in all tangi-
ble bodies, and hath some affinity with the air, per-
formeth, in some degree, the part of the air ; as when
you knock upon an empty barrel, the sound is in paft
created by the air on the outside ; and in part by the

inside : for the sound will be greater or

308 Natural History. [Cent. II.

lesser, as the barrel is more empty or more full; but
yet the sound participated! also with the spirit in the
wood through which it passeth, from the outside to
the inside : and so it cometh to pass in the chiming
of bells en the outside ; where also the sound passeth
to the inside: and a number of other like instances,
whereof we shall speak more when we handle the
communication of sounds.

137. IT were extreme grossness to think, as we
have partly touched before, that the sound in strings
is made or produced between the hand and the string,
or the quill and the string, or the bow and the string,
for those are but vehicula motus, passages to the crea-
tion of the sound, the sound being produced between
the string and the air ; and that not by any impulsion
of the air from the first motion of the string ; but by
the return or result of the string, which was strained
by the touch, to his former place : which motion of
result is quick and sharp ; whereas the first motion is
soft and dull. So the bow tortureth the string continu-
ally, and thereby holdeth it in a continual trepidation.

Experiments in consort touching the magnitude and
exility and damps of sounds.

138. TAKE a trunk, and let one whistle at the one
end, and hold your ear at the other, and you shall
find the sound strike so sharp as you can scarce en-
dure it. The cause is, for that sound diffuseth itself
in round, and so spencleth itself; but if the sound,
which would scatter in open air, be made to go all
into a canal, it must needs give greater force to the
sound. And so you may note, that inclosures do not
only preserve sound, but also increase and sharpen it,

139. A HUNTER'S horn being greater at one end
than at the other, doth increase the sound more than
if the horn were -all of an equal bore. The cause is,
for that the air and sound being first contracted at the
lesser end, and afterwards having more room to spread
at the greater end, do dilate themselves ; and in com-
ing out strike more air ; whereby the sound is the
greater and baser. And even hunter's horns, which

Cent. II.] Natural History. 309

are sometimes made straight, and not oblique, are
ever greater at the lower end. It would be tried also
in pipes, being made far larger at the lower end ; or
being made with a belly towards the lower end, and
then issuing into a straight concave again.

140. THERE is in Saint James's fields a conduit of
brick, unto which joineth a low vault ; and at the
end of that a round house of stone : and in the brick
conduit there is a window ; and in the round house
a slit or rift of some little breadth : if you cry out in
the rift, it will make a fearful roaring at the window.
The cause is the same with the former ; for that all
concaves, that proceed from more narrow to more
broad, do amplify the sound at the coming out.

141. HAWKS bells, that have holes in the sides,
give a greater ring, than if the pellet did strike upon
brass in the open air. The cause is the same with the
first instance of the trunk; namely, for that the sound
inclosed with the sides of the bell cometh forth at
the holes unspent and more strong.

142. IN drums, the closeness round about, that pre-
serveth the sound from dispersing, maketh the noise
come forth at the drum-hole far more loud and strong
than if you should strike upon the like skin extended
in the open air. The cause is the same with the two
precedent.

143. SOUNDS are better heard, and farther off, in
an evening or in the night, than at the noon or in the
day. The cause is, for that in the day, when the air
is more thin, no doubt, the sound pierceth better;
but when the air is more thick, as in the night, the
sound spendeth and spreadeth abroad less : and so it
is a degree of inclosure. As for the night, it is true
also that the general silence helpeth.

144. THERE be two kinds of reflexions of sounds ;
the one at distance, which is the echo; wherein the
original is heard distinctly, and the reflexion also dis-
tinctly ; of which we shall speak hereafter : the other
in concurrence ; when the sound reflecting, the re-
flexion being near at hand, returneth immediately
upon the original, and so iterateth it not, but ampli-

VOL. i. x

310 Xatural History. [Cent. II,

fieth It. Therefore we see, that music upon the water
soundeth more ; and so likewise music is better in
chambers wainscotted than hanged.

11-5. THE strings of a lute, or viol, or virginals, do
give a far greater sound, by reason of the knot, and
board, and concave underneath, than if there were
nothing but only the flat of a board, without that
hollow and knot, to let in the upper air into the
lower. The cause is the communication of the upper
air with the lower, and penning of both from ex-
pence or dispersing.

146. AN Irish harp hath open air on both sides of
the strings : and it hath the concave or belly not
along the strings, but at the end of the strings. It
maketh a more resounding sound than a bandora,
orpharion, or cittern, which have likewise wire-
strings. I judge the cause to be, for that open air
on both sides helpeth, so that there be a concave 5
which is therefore best placed at the end.

147. IN a virginal, when the lid is down, it maketh
a more exile sound than when the lid is open. The
cause is, for that all shutting in of air, where there is
no competent vent, dampeth the sound: which main-
taineth likewise the former instance ; for the belly of
the lute or viol doth pen the air somewhat.

148. THERE is a church at Gloucester, and, as I
have heard, the like is in some other places, where if
you speak against a wall softly, another shall hear
your voice better a good way off, than near at hand.
Inquire more particularly of the frame of that place.
I suppose there is some vault, or hollow, or isle,
behind the wall, and some passage to it towards the
farther end of that wall against which you speak;
so as the voice of him that speakcth slideth along the
wall, and then entereth at some- passage, and com-
municateth with the air of the hollow; for it is pre-
served somewhat by the plain wall ; but that is too
weak to give a sound audible, till it hath communi-
cated with the back air.

149. STRIKE upon a bow-string, and lay the horn
of the bow near your ear, and it will increase the

Cent. II.] Natural History. 3 1 1

sound, and make a degree of a tone. The cause is,
for that the sensory, by reason of the close holding,
is percussed before the air disperseth. The like is,
if you hold the horn betwixt your teeth : but that is
a plain dilation of the sound from the teeth to the
instrument of hearing ; for there is a great intercourse
between those two parts ; as appeareth by this, that
a harsh grating tune setteth the teeth on edge. The
like falleth out, if the horn of the bow be put upon
the temples ; but that is but the slide of the sound
from thence to the ear.

150. IF you take a rod of iron or brass, and hold
the one end to your car, and strike upon the other,
it maketh a tar greater sound than the like stroke upon
the rod, made not so contiguous to the ear. By
which, and by some other instances that have been
partly touched, it should appear, that sounds do not
only slide upon the surface of a smooth body, but
do also communicate with the spirits, that are in the
pores of the body.

151.1 REMEMBER in Trinity College in Cambridge,
there was an upper chamber, which being thought
weak in the roof of it, was supported by a pillar of
iron of the bigness of one's arm in the midst of the
chamber ; which if you had struck, it would make a
little flat noise in the room where it was struck, but
it would make a great bomb in the chamber beneath.

152. THE sound which is made by buckets in a
well, when they touch upon the water, or when
they strike upon the side of the well, or when two
buckets dash the one against the other, these sounds
are deeper and fuller than if the like percussion were
made in the open air. The cause is the penning and
inclosure of the air in the concave of the well.

153. BARRELS placed in a room under the floor of
a chamber, make all noises in the same chamber
more full and resounding.

So that there be five ways, in general, of m-aj ora-
tion of sounds : inclosure simple ; inclosure with
dilatation ; communication ; reflexion concurrent ;
and approac^ to the sensory.

312 Natural History. [Cent. II.

154. FOR exility of the voice or other sounds; it
is certain that the voice doth pass through solid and
hard bodies if they be not too thick: and through
water, which is likewise a very close body, and such
an one as letteth not in air. But then the voice, or
other sound, is reduced by such passage to a great
weakness or exility. If therefore you stop the holes
of a hawk's bell, it will make no ring, but a flat
noise or rattle. And so doth the attites or eagle-
stone, which hath a little stone within it.

155. AND as for water, it is a certain trial : let a
man go into a bath, and take a pail, and turn the
bottom upward, and carry the mouth of it even down
to the level of the water, and so press it down under
the water some handful and an half, still keeping it
even, that it may not tilt on either side, and so the
air get out ; then let him that is in the bath dive
with his head so far under water, as he may put his
head into the pail, and there will come as much air
bubbling forth, as will make room for his head.
Then let him speak, and any that shall stand without
shall hear his voice plainly ; but yet made extreme
sharp and exile, like the voice of puppets : but yet
the articulate sounds of the words will not be con-
founded. Note, that it may be much more hand-
somely done, if the pail be put over the man's head
above water, and then he covvr down, and the pail
be pressed down with him. Note, that a man must
kneel or sit, that he may be lower than the water.
A man would think that the Sicilian poet had know-
ledge of this experiment; for he saith, that Hercules's
page, Hylas, went with a water-pot to fill it at a
pleasant fountain that was near the shore, and that
the nymphs of the fountain fell in love with the boy,
and pulled him under water, keeping him alive ; and
that Hercules missing his page, called him by his
name aloud, that all the shore rang of it ; and that
liyias from within the water answered his master,
but, that which is to the present purpose, with so
small and exile a voice, as Hercules thought he had
been three miles off, when the fountain, indeed, was
fast by.

Cent. II.] Natural History. 3 1 3

156. IN lutes and instruments of strings, if you
stop a string high, whereby it hath less scope to
tremble, the sound is more treble, but yet more dead.

157. TAKE tw:o saucers, and strike the edge of
the one against the bottom of the other, within a
pail of water; and you shall find, that as you put
the saucers lower and lower, the sound groweth
more flat ; even while part of the saucer is above the
water ; but that flatness of sound is joined with a
harshness of sound ; which no doubt is caused by
the inequality of the sound which cometh from the
part of the saucer under the water and from the part
above. But when the saucer is wholly under the
water the sound becometh more clear, but far more
low, and as if the sound came from afar off.

158. A SOFT body dampeth the sound much more
than a hard ; as if a bell hath cloth or silk wrapped
about it, it deadneth the sound more than if it were
wood. And therefore in clericals the keys are lined;
and in colleges they use to line the tablemen.

159. TRIAL wras made in a recorder after these
several manners. The bottom of it was set against
the palm of the hand; stopped with wax round
about; set against a damask cushion; thrust into
sand ; into ashes ; into water, half an inch under the
water ; close to the bottom of a stiver bason ; and
still the tone remained: but the bottom of it was
set against a woollen carpet; a lining of plush; a
lock of wool, though loosely put in ; against snow ;
and the sound of it was quite deadned, and but breath.

160. IRON hot produceth not so full a sound as
when it is cold ; for while it is hot, it .appeareth to
be more soft and less resounding. So likewise warm
water, when it falleth', maketh not so full a sound
as cold ; and I conceive it is softer, and nearer the
nature of oil; for it is more slippery, as may be
perceived in that it scowreth better.

161. LET there be a recorder made with two
fipples, at each end one ; the trunk of it of the length
of two recorders, and the holes answerable towards
each end ; and let two play the same lesson upon

3U Natural History. [Cent. II.

it at an unison ; and let it be noted whether the
sound be confounded, or amplified, or dulled. So
likewise let a cross be made of two trunks hollow
throughout ; and let two speak, or sing, the one long-
ways, the other traverse : and let two hear at the
opposite ends ; and note whether the sound be con-
founded, amplified, or dulled. Which two instances
will also give light to the mixture of sounds, whereof
we shall speak hereafter.

162. A BELLOWS blown in at the hole of a drum,
and the drum then srrucken, maketh the sound a
little flatter, but no other apparent alteration. The
cause is manifest ; partly for that it hindereth the
issue of the sound ; and partly for that it maketh
the air, being blown together, less moveable.

Experiments in consort touching the loudncss or softness
of sounds y and their carnage at longer or shorter
distance.

163. THE loudness and softness of sounds is a thing
distinct from the magnitude and exility of sounds ;
for a base string, though softly strucken, giveth the
greater sound ; but a treble string, if hard strucken,
will be heard much farther off. And the cause is,
for that the base string striketh more air, and the
treble less air, but with a sharper percussion.

164, IT is therefore the strength of the percussion,
that is a principal cause of the loudness or softness of
sounds; as in knocking harder or softer; winding of
a horn stronger or weaker; ringing of a hand-bell
harder or softer, etc. And the strength of this per-
cussion consisted] as much or more in the hardness of
the body percussed, as in the force of the body per-
cussing ; for if you strike against a cloth, it will give
a less sound ; if against wood, a greater ; if against
metal, yet a greater; and in metals, if you strike
against gold, which is the more pliant, it giveth the
flatter sound ; if against silver or brass, the more
ringing sound, As for air, where it is strongly pent,
it inatcheth a hard body. And therefore we see in
discharging of a piece, what a great noise it maketh.

Cent. II.] Natural History. 3 1 ;»

We see also, that the charge with bullet, or with
paper wet and hard stopped, or with powder alone
rammed in hard, maketh no great difference in the
loudness of the report.

165. THE sharpness or quickness of the percussion,
is a great cause of the loudness, as well as the
strength ; as in a whip or wand, if you strike the air
with hy the sharper and quicker you strike it, the
louder sound it giveth. And in playing upon the
lute or virginals, the quick stroke or touch is a great
life to the sound. The cause is, for that the quick
striking cutteth the air speedily ; whereas the soft
striking doth rather beat than cut.

Experiments in consort touching the communication of

sounds.

THE communication of sounds, as in bellies of lutes,
empty vessels, etc. hath been touched obiter in the
majoration of sounds; but it is fit also to make a
title of it apart.

166. THE experiment for greatest demonstration of
communication of sounds, is the chiming of bells ;
where if you strike with a hammer upon the upper
part, and then upon the midst, and then upon the
lower, you shall find the sound to be more treble
and more base, according to the concave on the in-
side, though the percussion be only on the outside.

167. WHEN the sound is created between the blast
of the mouth and the air of the pipe, it hath never-
theless some communication with the matter of the
sides of the pipe, and the spirits in them con-
tained y for in a pipe, or trumpet, of wood, and brass,
the sound will be diverse; so if the pipe be covered
with cloth or silk, it will give a diverse sound from
what it would do of itself; so if the pipe be a little
wet on the inside, it will make a differing sound from
the same pipe dry.

168. THAT sound made within water doth com-
municate better with a hard body through water, than
made in air it doth with air, vide cxpcrimentuni 154.

316 Natural History. [Cent. II.

Experiments in consort touching equality and inequality
of sounds.

WE have spoken before, in the inquisition touch-
ing music, of musical sounds, whereunto there may
be a concord or discord in two parts ; which sounds
we call tones: and likewise of immusical sounds;
and have given the cause, that the tone proceedeth of
equality, and the other of inequality. And we have
also expressed there, what are the equal bodies that
give tones, and what are the unequal that give none.
But now we shall speak of such inequality of sounds,
as proceedeth not from the nature of the bodies
themselves, but as accidental ; either from the rough-
ness or obliquity of the passage, or from the doubling
of the percutient, or from the trepidation of the
motion.

169. A BELL, if it have a rift in it, whereby the
sound hath not a clear passage, giveth a hoarse and
jarring sound ; so the voice of man, when by cold
taken the weasand groweth rugged, and, as we call
it, furred, becometh hoarse. And in these two in-
stances the sounds are ingrate, because they are merely
unequal: but if they be unequal in equality, then
the sound is grateful, but purling.

170. ALL instruments that have either returns, as
trumpets; or flexions, as cornets; or are drawn up,
and put from, as sackbuts; have a purling sound : but
the recorder, or flute, that has none of these inequali-
ties, gives a clear sound. Nevertheless, the recorder
itself, or pipe, moistened a little in the inside, soundeth
more solemnly, and with a little purling or hissing.
Again, a wreathed string, such as are in the base
strings of bandoras, giveth also a purling sound.

171. BUT a lute-string, if it be merely unequal in
its parts, giveth a harsh and untunable sound; which
strings we call false, being bigger in one place than
in another ; and therefore wire strings are never false.
We see also, that when we try a false lute-string, we
use to extend it hard between the fingers, and to fillip
it; and if it giveth a double species, it is true; but
if it giveth a treble, or more, it is false.

Cent. II.] Natural History. LIZ

172. WATERS, in the noise they make as they run,
represent to the ear a trembling noise ; and in regals,
where they have a pipe they call the nightingale-pipe,
which containeth water, the sound hath a continual
trembling: and children have also little things they
call cocks, which have water in them; and when they
blow or whistle in them, they yield a trembling noise ;
which trembling of water hath an affinity with the
letter L. All which inequalities of trepidation are
rather pleasant than otherwise.

173. ALL base notes, or very treble notes, give an
asper sound; for that the base striketh more air, than
it can well strike equally : and the treble cutteth the
air so sharp, as it returneth too swift to make the
sound equal: and therefore a mean or tenor is the
sweetest part.

174. WE know nothing that can at pleasure make
a musical or immusical sound by voluntary motion,
but the voice of man and birds. The cause is, no
doubt, in the wcasand or wind-pipe, which we call
aspera artcria, which being well extended, gathereth
equality; as a bladder that is wrinkled, if it be ex-
tended, becometh smooth. The extension is always
more in tones than in speech : therefore the inward
voice or whisper can never give a tone. And in
singing, there is, manifestly, a greater working and la-
bour of the throat, than in speaking ; as appeareth
in the thrusting out or drawing in of the chin, when

we sing.

175. THE humming of bees is an unequal buzzing,
and is conceived by some of the ancients not to come
forth at their mouth, but to be an inward sound ; but,
it may be, it is neither ; but from the motion of their
wings ; for it is not heard but when they stir.

176. ALL metals quenched in water give a sibilation
or hissing sound, which hath an affinity with the letter
Z, notwithstanding the sound be created between the
water or vapour, and the air. Seething also, if there
be but small store of water in a vessel, givcth a hiss-
ing sound ; but boiling in a full vessel giveth a bub-
bling sound, drawing somewhat near to the cocks
used by children.

3 1 8 Natural History. [Cent. II.

177. TRIAL should be made, whether the ine-
quality or interchange of the medium will not pro-
duce an inequality of sound; as if three bells were
made one within another, and air betwixt each; and
then the outermost bell were chimed with a hammer,
how the sound would differ from a simple bell. So
likewise take a plate of brass, and a plank of wood,
and join them close together, and knock upon one
of them, and see if they do not give an unequal sound.
So make two or three partitions of wood in a hogs-
head, with holes or knots in them; and mark the
difference of their sound from the sound of an hogs-
head without such partitions.

Experiments in consort touching the more treble) and
the more base tones, or musical sounds.

178. IT is evident, that the percussion of the greater
quantity of air causeth the baser sound; and the less
quantity the more treble sound. The percussion of
the greater quantity of air is produced by the great-
ness of the body percussing; by the latitude of the
concave by which the sound passeth ; and by the lon-
gitude of the same concave. Therefore we see that a
base string is greater than a treble : a base pipe hath a
greater bore than a treble ; and in pipes, and the like,
the lower the note-holes be, and the further off from
the mouth of the pipe, the more base sound they yield ;
and the nearer the mouth, the more treble. Nay
more, if you strike an entire body, as an andiron of
brass, at the top, it maketh a more treble sound ; and
at the bottom a baser.

179. IT is also evident, that the sharper or quicker
percussion of air causeth the more treble sound ; and
the slower or heavier, the more base sound. So we
see in strings; the more they are wound up and
strained, and thereby give a more quick start-back,
the more treble is the sound ; and the slacker they
are, or less wound up, the baser is the sound. And
therefore a bigger string more strained, and a lesser
string less strained, may fall into the same tone.

180. CHILDREN, women, eunuchs, have more small

O-nt. II-] Natural History. 319

and shrill voices than men. The reason is, not for
that men have greater heat, which may make the
voice stronger, for the strength of a voice or sound
doth make a difference in the loudness or softness,
but not in the tone, but from the dilatation of the
organ ; which, it is true, is likewise caused by heat.
But the cause of changing the voice at the years of
puberty, is more obscure. It seemeth to be, for that
when much of the moisture of the body, which did
before irrigate the parts, is drawn down to the sper-
matical vessels, it leaveth the body more hot than
it was; whence cometh the dilatation of the pipes:
for we see plainly all effects of heat do then come on ;
as pilosity, more roughness of the skin, hardness of
the flesh, etc.

J81. THE industry of the musician hath produced
two other means of straining or intension of strings,
besides their winding up. The one is the stopping
of the string with the finger; as in the necks of lutes,
viols, etc. The other is the shortness of the string,
as in harps, virginals, etc. Both these have one and
the same reason ; for they cause the string to give a
quicker start. ,

182. IN the straining of a string, the further it is
strained, the less superstraining goeth to a note; for
it requireth good winding of a string before it will
make any note at all: and in the stops of lutes,
etc. the higher they go, the less distance is between
the frets.

183. IF you fill a drinking-glass with water, espe-
cially one sharp below, and wide above, and fillip
upon the brim or outside ; and after empty part of the
water, and so more and more, and still try the tone by
filliping; you shall find the tone fall and be more
base, as the glass is more empty.

Experiments in consort touching the proportion of treble
and base tones.

THE just and measured proportion of the air per-
cussed, towards the baseness or treblcness of tones,
is one of the greatest secrets in the contemplation

3*0 Natural History. [Cent. II.

of sounds. For it discovereth the true coincidence of
tones into diapasons ; which is the return of the same
sound. And so of the concords and discords between
the unison and diapason, which we have touched be-
fore in the experiments of music ; but think fit to
resume it here as a principal part of our inquiry
touching the nature of sounds. It may be found out
in the proportion of the winding of strings; in the
proportion of the distance of frets ; and in the pro-
portion of the concave of pipes, etc. but most com-
mocliously in the last of these.

184. TRY therefore the winding of a string once
about, as soon as it is brought to that extension as
will give a tone; and then of twice about, and thrice
about, etc. and mark the scale or difference of the
rise of the tone : whereby you shall discover, in one,
two effects; both the proportion of the sound towards
the dimension of the winding; and the proportion
likewise of the sound towards the string, as it is more
or less strained. Bat note that to measure this, the
way will be, to take the length in a right line of the
string, upon any winding about of the peg.

185. As for the stops, you are to take the number
of frets ; and principally the length of the line, from
the first stop of the string, unto such a stop as shall
produce a diapason to the former stop upon the same

string.

186. BUT it will best, as it is said, appear in the
bores of wind instruments: and therefore cause some
half dozen pipes to be made, in length and all things
else alike, with a single, double, and soon to a sextuple
bore ; and so mark what fall of tone every one giveth.
But still in these three last instances, you must di-
ligently observe, what length of string, or distance
ot stop, or concave of air, maketh what rise of
sound. As in the last of these, which, as we said,
is that which giveth the aptest demonstration, you
must set down what increase of concave goeth to
the making of a note higher; and what of two notes;
and what of three notes; and so up to the diapason:
for then the great secret of numbers and proportions

Cent. II.] Natural History. 321

will appear. It is not unlike that those that make
recorders, etc. know this already: for that they make
them in sets: and likewise bell-founders, in fitting
the tune of their bells. So that inquiry may save trial.
Surely it hath been observed by one ot the anei nts,
that an empty barrel knocked upon with the finger,
giveth a diapason to the sound of the like barrel full;
but how that should be I do not well understand; for
that the knocking of a barrel full or empty, doth
scarce give any tone.

187. THERE is required some sensible difference
in the proportion of creating a note, towards the
sound itself, which is the passive : and that it be not
too near, but at a distance. For in a recorder, the
three uppermost holes yield one tone; which is a note
lower than the tone of the first three. And the like,
no doubt, is required in the winding or stopping of
strings.

Experiments in consort touching exterior and interior

sounds.

THERE is another difference of sounds, which we
wrill call exterior and interior. It is not soft nor loud :
nor it is not base nor treble : nor it is not musical
nor im musical : though it be true, that there can be
no tone in an interior sound ; but on the other side,
in an exterior sound there may be both musical and
immusical. We shall therefore enumerate them, rather
than precisely distinguish them ; though, to make
some adumbration of that we mean, the interior is
rather an impulsion or concussion of the air, than
an elision or section of the same : so as the percussion
of the one towards the other diflereth as a blow dif-
fereth from a cut.

188. IN speech of man, the whispering, which
they call susurnis in latin, whether it be louder or
softer, is an interior sound ; but the speaking out is
an exterior sound; and therefore you can never make
a tone, nor sing in whispering ; but in speech you
may : so breathing, or blowing by the mouth, bel-
lows, or wind, though loud, is an interior sound ; but '

322 Natural History. [Cent. II.

the blowing through a pipe or concave, though soft,
is an exterior. So likewise the greatest winds, if
they have no coarctation, or blow not hollow, give
-an interior sound ; the whistling or hollow wind
yieldeth a singing, or exterior sound ; the former
being pent by some other body ; the latter being
pent in by its own density : and therefore we see,
that when the wind bloweth hollow, it is a sign of
rain. The flame, as it moveth within itself or is blown
by a bellows, giveth a murmur or interior sound.

189. THERE is no hard body, but struck against
another hard body, will yield an exterior sound
greater or lesser : insomuch as if the percussion be
over-soft, it may induce a nullity of sound ; but never
an interior sound ; as when one treadeth so softly
that he is not heard.

190. WHERE the air is the percutient, pent or not
pent, against a hard body, it never giveth an exterior
sound ; as if you blow strongly with a bellows against
a wall.

191. SOUNDS, both exterior and interior, may be
rriade as well by suction as by emission of the breath :
as in whistling or breathing.

Experiments in consort toucking articulation of sounds.

192. IT is evident, and it is one of the strangest
secrets in sounds, that the whole sound is not in the
whole air only ; but the whole sound is also in every
small part of the air. So that all the curious di-
versity of articulate sounds, of the voice of man or
birds, will enter at a small cranny inconfused.

193. THE unequal agitation of the winds and the
like, though they be material to the carriage of the
sounds farther or less way ; yet they do not confound
the articulation of them at all, within that distance
that they can be heard ; though it may be, they
make them to be heard less way than in a still ; as
hath been partly touched. •

194. OVER-GREAT distance confoundeth the arti-
culation of sounds ; as we sec, that you may hear the
sound of a preacher's voice, or the like, when you

Cent.

?nt. II.] Natural History. 323

cannot distinguish what he saith. And one articulate
sound will confound another, as when many speak at
once.

195. IN the experiment of speaking under water,
when the voice is reduced to such an extreme exility,
yet the articulate sounds, which are the words, are
not confounded, as hath been said.

196. I CONCEIVE, that an extreme small or an ex-
treme great sound cannot be articulate ; but that the
articulation requireth a mediocrity of sound: for that
the extreme small sound confoundeth the articulation
by contracting ; and the great sound by dispersing :
and although, as was formerly said, a sound articu-
late, already created, will be contracted into a small
cranny ; yet the first articulation requireth more di-
mension.

197. IT hath been observed, that in a room, or in
a chapel, vaulted below and vaulted likewise in the
roof, a preacher cannot be heard so well, as in the
like places, not so vaulted. The cause is, for that the
subsequent words come on before the precedent
words vanish : and therefore the articulate sounds are
more confused, though the gross of the sound be
greater.

198. THE motions of the tongue, lips, throat, pa-
late, etc. which go to the making of the several al-
phabetical letters, are worthy inquiry, and pertinent
to the present inquisition of sounds : but because they
are subtle and long to describe, we will refer them
over, and place them amongst the experiments of
speech. The Hebrews have been diligent in it, and
have assigned which letters are labial, which dental,
which guttural, etc. As for the Latins and Grecians,
they have distinguished between semi-vowels and
mutes ; and in mutes between muttC tcmics, meditf,
and aspiratic ; not amiss, but yet not diligently
enough. For the special strokes and motions that
create those sounds, they have little inquired : as, that
the letters B, Py f\ M9 are not expressed, but with
the contracting or shutting of the mouth ; that the
letters Arand B, cannot be pronounced but that the

324 Natural History. [Cent. II.

letter N will turn into M ; as hccatonba will be hcca-
tomba. That M and Z7 cannot be pronounced together,
but P will come between ; as tjM/zw is pronounced
emptus ; and a number of the like. So that if you in-
quire to the full, you will find, that to the making of
the whole alphabet there will be fewer simple motions
required than there are letters.

199. THE lungs are the most spungy part of the
body , and therefore ablest to contract and dilate
itself; and where it contracted! itself, it expelleth
the air ; which through the artery, throat, and mouth,
maketh the voice: but yet articulation is not made
but with the help of the tongue, palate, and the rest
of those they call instruments of voice.

200. THERE is found a similitude between the
sound that is made by inanimate bodies or by ani-
mate bodies that have no voice articulate, and divers
letters of articulate voices : and commonly men have
given such names to those sounds, as do allude unto
the articulate letters ; as trembling of water hath re-
semblance with the letter L; quenching of hot metals
with the letter Z; snarling of dogs with the letter R;
the noise of screech-owls with the letter Sh ; voice of
cats with the diphthong En ; voice of cuckows with
the diphthong Ou ; sounds of strings with the letter
Ng : so that if a man, for curiosity or strangeness
sake, would make a puppet or other dead body to
pronounce a word, let him consider, on the one part,
the motion of the instrument of voice ; and on the
other part, the like sounds made in inanimate bodies;
and what conformity there is that causeth the simili-
tude of sounds j and by that he may minister light to
that effect.

[ 325 ]
NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY III.

Experiments in consort touching the motions of sounds,
in zvhat lines they are circular, oblique, straight, up-
wards, downwards, forwards, backwards.

20 1. ALL sounds whatsoever move round ; that is
to say, on all sides ; upwards, downwards, forwards,
and backwards. This appeareth in all instances.

202. SOUNDS do not require to be conveyed to the
sense in a right line, as visibles do, but may be
arched ; though it be true, they move strongest in
a right line ; which nevertheless is not caused by the
Tightness of the line, but by the shortness of the
distance ; linea recta brevissima. And therefore we
see if a wall be between, and you speak on the one
side, you hear it on the other ; which is not because
the sound passeth through the wall, but archeth over
the wall.

203. IF the sound be stopped and repercussed, it
cometh about on the other side in an oblique line.
So, if in a coach one side of the boot be down, and
the other up, and a beggar beg on the close side ;
you will think that he were on the open side. So
likewise, if a bell or clock be, for example, on the
north side of a chamber, and the window of that
chamber be upon the south ; he that is in the cham-
ber will think the sound came from the south.

204. SOUNDS, though they spread round, so that
there is an orb or spherical area of the sound, yet
they move strongest and go farthest in the fore-lines,
from the first local impulsion of the air. And there-
fore in preaching, you shall hear the preacher's voice
better before the pulpit, than behind it, or on the
sides, though it stand open. So a harquebus, or

VOL. i. y

326 Natural History. [Cent. III.

ordnance, will be farther heard forwards from the
mouth of the piece, than backwards or on the sides.

205. IT may be doubted, that sounds ,do move
better downwards than upwards. Pulpits are placed
high above the people. And when the ancient ge-
nerals spake to their armies, they had ever a mount
of turf cast up, whereupon they stood ; but this may
be imputed to the stops and obstacles which the
voice meeteth with, when one speaketh upon the
level. But there seemeth to be more in it ; for it
may be that spiritual species, both of things visible
and sounds, do move better downwards than up-
wards. It is a strange thing, that to men standing
below on the ground, those that be on the top of
Paul's seem much less than they are, and cannot be
known; but to men above, those below seem nothing
so much lessened, and may be known : yet it is true,
that all things to them above seem also somewhat
contracted, and better collected into figure : as knots
in gardens shew best from an upper window or terras.

206. Bur to make an exact trial of it, let a man
stand in a chamber not much above the ground, and
speak out at the window, through a trunk, to one
standing on the ground, as softly as he can, the other
laying his ear close to the trunk : then via versa, let
the other speak below, keeping the same proportion
of softness; and let him in the chamber lay his ear
to the trunk : and this may be the aptest means to
make a judgment, whether sounds descend or ascend
better.

Experiments in consort touching the lasting and perishing
of sounds^ and touching the time they require to
their generation or dilation.

207. AFTER that sound is created, which is in a
moment, we find it continueth some small time,
melting by little and little. In this there is a won-
derful error amongst men, who take this to be a con-
tinuance of the first sound ; whereas, in truth, it
is a renovation, and not a continuance ; for the body
percussed hath, by reason of the percussion, a trepi-

lai

Cent. III.] Natural History. 327

elation wrought in the minute parts, and so reneweth
the percussion of the air. This appeareth manifestly,
because that the melting sound of a bell, or of a
string strucken, which is thought to be a continuance,
ceaseth as soon as the bell or string is touched. A?
in a virginal, as soon as ever the jack falleth, and
toucheth the string, the sound ceaseth ; and in a bell,
after you have chimed upon it, if you touch the bell
the sound ceaseth. And in this you must distinguish
that there are two trepidations : the one manifest and
local ; as of the bell when it is pensile : the other
secret of the minute parts ; such as is described in
the ninth instance. But it is true, that the local
helpeth the secret greatly. We see likewise that in
pipes, and other wind-instruments, the sound lasteth
no longer than the breath blowetb. It is true, that
in organs there is a confused murmur for a while
after you have played ; but that is but while the bel-
lows are in falling.

208. IT is certain, that in the noise of great ord-
nance, where many are shot off together, the sound
will be carried, at the least, twenty miles upon the
land, and much farther upon the water. But then it
will come to the ear, not in the instant of the shooting
off, but it will come an hour or more later. This
must needs be a continuance of the first sound ; for
there is no trepidation which should renew it. And
the touching of the ordnance would not extinguish
the sound the sooner : so that in great sounds the
continuance is more than momentary.

209. To try exactly the time wherein sound is di-
lated, let a man stand in a steeple, and have with
him a taper; and let some vail be put before the
taper; and let another man stand in the field a mile
off. Then let him in the steeple strike the bell ; and
in the same instant withdraw the vail ; and so let
him in the field tell by his pulse what distance of
time there is between the light seen, and the sound
heard : for it is certain that the dilation of light is in
an instant. This may be tried in far greater dis-
tances, allowing greater lights and sounds,

y 2

328 Natural History. [Cent. III.

210. IT is generally known and observed that
light, and the object of sight, move swifter than sound :
for we see the flash of a piece is seen sooner than the
noise is heard. And in hewing wood, if one be some
distance off, he shall see the arm lifted up for a
second stroke, before he hears the noise of the first.
And the greater the distance, the greater is the pre-
vention : as we see in thunder which is far off, where
the lightning precedeth the crack a good space.

211. COLOURS, when they represent themselves to
the eye, fade not, nor melt not by degrees, but ap-
pear still in the same strength ; but sounds melt and
vanish by little and little. The cause is, for that
colours participate nothing with the motion of the
air, but sounds do. And it is a plain argument, that
sound participated of some local motion of the air,
as a cause sine qua non, in that it perisheth so sud-
denly ; for in every suction or impulsion of the air,
the air doth suddenly restore and reunite itself j
which the water also doth, but nothing so swiftly.

Experiments in consort touching the passage and inter-
ception of sounds.

IN the trials of the passage, or not passage of sounds,
you must take heed you mistake not the passing by
the sides of a body, for the passing through a body ;
and therefore you must make the intercepting body
very close ; for sound will pass through a small chink.

2i<2. WHERE sound passeth through a hard or close
body, as through water; through a wall, through
metal, as in hawks bells stopped, etc. the hard or
close body must be but thin and small ; for else it
deadeneth and extinguisheth the sound utterly. And
therefore in the experiment of speaking in air under
water, the voice must not be very deep within the
water : for then the sound pierceth not. So if you
speak on the farther side of a close wall, if the wall
be very thick you shall not be heard : and if there
were an hogshead empty, whereof the sides were
some two foot thick, and the bunghole stopped ; I
conceive the resounding sound, by the communica-

Cent. III.] Natural History. 329

tion of the outward air with the air within, would
be little or none : but only you shall hear the noise
of the outward knock, as if the vessel were full.

213. Ir is certain, that in the passage of sounds
through hard bodies the spirit or pneumatical part of
the hard body itself doth co-operate ; but much better
when the sides of that hard body are struck, than
when the percussion is only within, without touch of
the sides. Take therefore a hawk's bell, the holes
stopped up, and hang it by a thread within a bottle
glass, and stop the mouth of the glass very close with
wax ; and then shake the glass, and see whether the
bell give any sound at all, or how weak : but note,
that you must instead of the thread take a wire ; or
else let the glass have a great belly ; lest when you
shake the bell, it dash upon the sides of the glass.

214. IT is plain, that a very long and downright
arch for the sound to pass, will extinguish the sound
quite ; so that that sound, which would be heard
over a wall, will not be heard over a church ; nor
that sound, which will be heard if you stand some
distance from the wall, will be heard if you stand
close under the wall.

215. SOFT and foraminous bodies, in the first crea-
tion of the sound, will deaden it ; for the striking
against cloth or furr will make little sound ; as hath
been said : but in the passage of the sound, they will
admit it better than harder bodies ; as we see, that
curtains and hangings will not stay the sound much ;
but glass windows, if they be very close, will check
a sound more than the like thickness of cloth. We'
see also in the rumbling of the belly, how easily the
sound passeth through the guts and skin.

216. I r is worthy the inquiry, whether great sounds,
as of ordnance or bells, become not more weak and
exile when they pass through small crannies. For
the subtilties of articulate sounds, it may be, may
poss through small crannies not confused ; but the
magnitude of the sound, perhaps, not so well.

330 Natural History. [Cent. III.

Experiments in consort touching the medium of sounds.

217. THE medium of sounds is air ; soft and porous
bodies; also water. And hard bodies refuse not al-
together to be mediums of sounds. But all of them
are dull and unapt deferents, except the air.

218. IN air, the thinner or drier air carrieth not the
sound so well as the more dense ; as appeareth in
night sounds and evening sounds, and sounds in moist
weather and southern winds. The reason is already
mentioned in the title of majoration of sounds ; being
for that thin air is better pierced ; but thick air pre-
serveth the sound better from waste : let further trial
be made by hollowing in mists and gentle showers ;
for, it may be, that will somewhat deaden the sound.

219. How far forth flame may be a medium of
sounds, especially of such sounds as are created by air,
and not betwixt hard bodies, let it be tried in speak-
ing where a bonfire is between ; but then you must
allow for some disturbance the noise that the flame
itself maketh.

220. WHETHER any other liquors, being made me-
diums, cause a diversity of sound from water, it may
be tried : as by the knapping of the tongs ; or striking
of the bottom of a vessel, filled either with milk or with
oil ; which though they be more light, yet are they
more unequal bodies than air.

Of the natures of the mediums we have now
spoken ; as for the disposition of the said mediums, it
doth consist in the penning, or not penning of the
,air; of which we have spoken before in the title of
dilation of sounds: it consisteth also in the figure of
the concave through which it passeth ; of which we
will speak next.

Experiments in consort, what the figures of the pipes, or
'concaves, or the bodies deferent, conduce, to the
sounds.

How the figures of pipes, or concaves, through which
sounds pass, or of other bodies deferent, conduce to
the variety and alteration of the sounds; either in
respect of the greater quantity, or less quantity of air,

Cent. III.] Natural History. 331

which the concaves receive ; or in respect of the Carry-
ing of sounds longer and shorter way ; or in respect
of many other circumstances ; they have been touched,
as falling into other titles. But those figures which
we now arc to speak of, we intend to be, as they con-
cern the lines through which the sound passeth 5 as
straight, crooked, angular, circular, etc.

221. THE figure of a bell partaketh of the pyramis,
but yet coming off and dilating more suddenly. The
figure of a hunter's horn and cornet, is oblique ; yet
fhey have likewise straight horns ; which if they be of
the same bore with the oblique, differ little in sound,
save that the straight require somewhat a stronger
blast. The figures of recorders, and flutes, and pipes,
are straight ; but the recorder hath a less bore and a
greater, above and below. The trumpet hath the
figure of the letter S : which maketh that purling
sound, etc. Generally the straight line hath the
cleanest and roundest sound, and the crooked, the •
more hoarse andjarring.

222. OF a sinuous pipe that may have some four
flexions, trial should be made. Likewise of a pipe
made like a cross, open in the midst. And so like-
wise of an angular pipe : and see what will be the
effects of these several sounds. And so again of a
circular pipe ; as if you take a pipe perfectly round,
and make a hole whereinto you shall blow, and an^
other hole not far from that ; but with a traverse or
stop between them ; so that your breath may go the
round of the circle, and come forth at the second
hole. You may try likewise percussions of solid bo-
dies of several figures ; as globes, flats, cubes, crosses,
triangles, etc. and their combinations, as flat against
flat, and convex against convex, and convex against
flat, etc. and mark well the diversities of the sounds.
Try also the difference in sound of several crassitudes
of hard bodies percussed ; and take knowledge of the
diversities of the sounds. I myself have tried, that a
bell of gold yieldeth an excellent sound, not inferior
to that of silver or brass, but rather better: yet we
see that a piece of money of gold soundeth far more
flat than a piece of money of silver.

332 Natural History. [Cent. III.

223. THE harp hath the concave not along the
strings, but across the strings; and no instrument
hath the sound so melting and prolonged, as the Irish
harp. So as I suppose, that if a virginal were made
with a double concave, the one all the length, as the
virginal hath ; the other at the end of the strings, as
the harp hath ; it must needs make the sound perfecter,
and not so shallow and jarring. You may try it with-
out any sound-board along, but only harp-wise, at one
end of the strings ; or lastly, with a double concave,
at each end of the strings one.

Experiments in consort touching the mixture of sounds.

224. THERE is an apparent diversity between the
species visible and audible in this, that the visible
doth not mingle in the medium, but the audible doth.
For if we look abroad, we see heaven, a number of
stars, trees, hills, men, beasts, at once. And the spe-
cies of the one doth not confound the other. But if
so many sounds came from several parts, one of them
would utterly confound the other. So we see, that
voices or consorts of music do make an harmony by
mixture, which colours do not. It is true neverthe-
less, that a great light drowneth a smaller that it can-
not be seen; as the sun that of a glow-worm ; as well
as a great sound drowneth a lesser. And I suppose
likewise, that if there were two lanthorns of glass, the
one a crimson, and the other an azure, and a candle
within either of them, those coloured lights would
mingle, and cast upon a white paper a purple colour.
And even in colours, they yield a faint and weak
mixture: for white walls make rooms more lightsome
than black, etc. but the cause of the confusion in
sounds, and the inconfusion in species visible, is, for
that the sight worketh in right lines, and m'aketh seve-
ral'cones; and so there can be no coincidence in the
eye pr visual point: but sounds, that move in oblique
and arcuate lines, must needs encounter and disturb
the one the other.

225. THE sweetest and best harmony is, when
every part or instrument is not heard by itself, but a

Cent. III.] Natural History. 333

conflation of them all ; which requireth to stand some
distance off, even as it is in the mixture of perfumes ;
or the taking of the smells of several flowers in the
air.

226. THE disposition of the air in other qualities,
except it be joined with sound, hath no great opera-
tion upon sounds : for whether the air be lightsome
or dark, hot or cold, quiet or stirring, except it be
with noise, sweet-smelling, or stinking, or the like ;
it importeth not much; some petty alteration or dif-
ference it may make.

227. BUT sounds do disturb and alter the one the
other: sometimes the one drowning the other, and
making it not heard; sometimes the one jarring and
discording with the other, and making a confusion ;
sometimes the one mingling and compounding with
the other, and making an harmony.

228. Two voices of like loudness will not be heard
twice as far as one of them alone ; and two candles of
like light, will not make things seen twice as far off
as one. The cause is profound; but it seemeth that
the impressions from the objects of the sensesdo min-
gle respectively, every one with his kind; but not in
proportion, as is before demonstrated : and the rea-
son may be, because the first impression, which is
from privative to active, as from silence to noise, or
from darkness to light, is a greater degree than from
less noise to more noise, or from less light to more
light. And the reason of that again may be, for that
the air, after it hath received a charge, doth not re-
ceive a surcharge, or greater charge, with like appe-
tite as it doth the first charge. As for the increase of
virtue, generally, what proportion it beareth to the
increase of the matter, it is a large field, and to be
handled by itself.

Experiments in consort touching melioration of sound*.

229. ALL reflexions concurrent do make sounds
greater; but if the body that createth cither the ori-
ginal sound, or the reflexion, be clean and smooth, it
makcth them sweeter. Trial may be made of a iute

ma}

334 Natural History. [Cent. III.

or viol, with the belly of polished brass instead of
wood. We see that even in the open air, the wire-
string is sweeter than the string of guts. And we
see that for reflexion water excelleth j as in music
near the water, or in echos.

230. IT hath been tried, that a pipe a little moist-
ened on the inside, but yet so as there be no drops
leit, maketh a more solemn sound, than if the pipe
were dry : but yet with a sweet degree of sibilation or
purling-, as we touched it before in the title of equa-
lity. The cause is, for that all things porous being
superficially wet, and, as it were, between dry and
wet, become a little more even and smooth ; but the
purling, which must needs proceed of inequality, I
take to be bred between the smoothness of the inward
surface of the pipe, which is wet, and the rest of the
wood of the pipe unto which the wetcometh not, but
it remaineth dry.

231. IN frosty weather, music within doors sound-
eth better. Which may be by reason not of the dis-
position of the air, but of the wood or string of the
instrument, which is made more crisp, and so more
porous and hollow : and we see that old lutes sound
better than new for the same reason. And so do lute-
strings that have been kept long.

252. SOUND is likewise meliorated by the mingling
of open air with pent air; therefore trial may be made
of a lute or viol with a double belly ; making another
belly with a knot over the strings ; yet so, as there be
room enough for the strings, and room enough to play
below that belly. Trial may be made also of an Irish
harp, with a concave on both sides; whereas it useth
to have it but on one side. The doubt may be, lest it
should make too much resounding; whereby one
note would overtake another.

233. IF you sing in the hole of a drum, it maketh
the singing more sweet. And so I conceive it
would, if it were a song in parts sung into several
drums; and for handsomeness and strangeness sake,
it would not be amiss to have a curtain between the
place where the drums are and the hearers.

Cent. III.] Natural History. 335

234. WHEN a sound is created in a wind-instrument
between the breath and the air, yet if the sound be
communicated with a more equal body of the pipe,
it meliorateth the sound. For, no doubt, there would
be a differing sound in a trumpet or pipe of wood;
and again in a trumpet or pipe of brass. It were
good to try recorders and hunters horns of brass, what
the sound would be.

235. SOUNDS are meliorated by the intention of the
sense, where the common sense is collected most to
the particular sense of hearing, and the sight suspend-
ed : and therefore sounds are sweeter, as well a^
greater, in the night than in the day ; and I suppose
they are sweeter to blind men than to others : and it
is manifest that between sleeping and waking, when
all the senses are bound and suspended, music is far
sweeter than when one is fully waking.

"Experiments in consort touching the imitation of sounds,

236. IT is a thing strange in nature when it is at-
tentively considered, how children, and some birds,
learn to imitate speech. They take no mark at all of
the motion of the mouth of him that speaketh, for
birds are as well taught in the dark as by light. The
sounds of speech are very curious and exquisite : so
one would think it were a lesson hard to learn. It is
true that it is done with time, and by little and little,
and with many essays and prefers: but all this dis-
chargeth not the wonder. It would make a man
think, though this which we shall say may seem ex-
ceeding strange, that there is some transmission of
spirits ; and that the spirits of the teacher put in mo-
tion, should work with the spirits of the learner a pre-
disposition to offer to imitate ; and so to perfect the
imitation by degrees. But touching operations by
transmissions of spirits, which is one of the highest
secrets in nature, we shall speak in due place ; chiefly
when we come to inquire of imagination. But as
"or imitation, it is certain that there is in men and

ther creatures a pre-disposition to imitate. We see
ow ready apes and monkeys are to imitate all mo-

336 Natural History. [Cent. III.

tions of man ; and in the catching of dottrels, we see
how the foolish bird playeth the ape in gestures : and
no man, in effect, doth accompany with others, but
he learneth, ere he is aware, some gesture, or voice
or fashion of the other.

237. IN imitation of sounds, that man should be
the teacher is no part of the matter; for birds will
learn one of another; and there is no reward by feed-
ing, or the like, given them for the imitation ; and be-
sides, you shall have parrots that will not only imitate
voices, but laughing, knocking, squeaking of a door
upon the hinges, or of a cart-wheel; and, in effect,
any other noise they hear.

238. No beast can imitate the speech of man but
birds only ; for the ape itself, that is so ready to imitate
otherwise, attaineth not any degree of imitation of
speech. It is true, that I have known a dog, that if
one howled in his ear, he would fall a howling a great
while. What should be the aptness of birds in com-
parison of beasts, to imitate the speech of man, may
be further inquired. We see that beasts have those-
parts which they count the instruments of speech, as
lips, teeth, etc. liker unto man than birds. As for
the neck, by which the throat passeth, we see many
beasts have it for the length as much as birds. What
better gorge or artery birds have may be further in-
quired. The birds that are known to be speakers,
are parrots, pies, jays, daws, and ravens. Of which
parrots have an adunque bill, but the rest not.

239. BUT I conceive, that the aptness of birds is not
so much in the conformity of the organs of speech, as
in their attention. For speech must come by hearing
and learning; and birds give more heed, and mark
sounds more than beasts; because naturally they are
more delighted with them, and practise them more, as
ap'peareth in their singing. We see also that those
that teach birds to sing, do keep them waking to in-
crease their attention. We see also, that cock birds
amongst singing-birds are ever the better singers ;
which may be because they are more lively and listen
171 ore.

Cent. III.] Natural History. 337

240. LABOUR and intention to imitate voices, doth
conduce much to imitation : and therefore we see
that there be certain pantomimi, that will represent the
voices of players of interludes so to the life, as if you
see them not you would think they were those players
themselves; and so the voices of other men that they
hear.

241. THERE have been some that could counter-
feit the distance of voices, which is a secondary object
of hearing, in such sort, as when they stand fast by
you, you would think the speech came from afar off,
in a fearful manner. How this is done may be further
inquired. But I see no great use of it but for im-
posture, in counterfeiting ghosts or spirits.

Experiments in consort touching the reflexion of sounds.
THERE be three kinds of reflexions of sounds ; a re-
flexion concurrent, a reflexion iterant, which we call
echo; and a super-reflexion, or an echo of an echo;
whereof the first hath been handled in the title of mag-
nitude of sounds : the latter two we will now speak of.

242. THE reflexion of species visible by mirrors you
may command ; because passing in right lines they
may be guided to any point : but the reflexion of
sounds is hard to master; because the sound filling
great spaces in arched lines, cannot be so guided :
and therefore we see there hath not been practised any
means to make artificial echos. And no echo already
known returneth in a very narrow room.

2-13. THE natural echos are made upon walls,
woods, rocks, hills, and banks ; as for waters, being
near, they make a concurrent echo ; but being farther
off, as upon a large river, they make an iterant echo :
for there is no difference between the concurrent echo
and the iterant, but the quickness or slowness of the
return. But there is no doubt but water doth help tin?
dilation of echo; as well as it helpeth the dilation of
original sounds.

244. IT is certain; as hath been formerly touched,
that if you speak through a trunk stopped at the far-
ther end, you shall find a blast return upon your

338 Natural History. [Cent. III.

mouth, but no sound at all* The cause is, for that
the closeness which preserver!! the original, is not
able to preserve the reflected sound : besides that
echos are seldom created but by loud sounds. And
therefore there is less hope of artificial echos in air
pent in a narrow concave. Nevertheless it hath
been tried, that one leaning over a well of twenty rive
fathom deep, and speaking, though but softly, yet
not so soft as a whisper, the water returned a good
audible echo. It should be tried, whether speaking in
caves, where there is no issue save where you speak,
will not yield echos as wells do.

245. THE echo cometh as the original sound doth,
in a round orb of air : it wrere good to try the creating
of the echo where the body repercussing maketh an
angle : as against the return of a w7all, etc. Also we
see that in mirrors there is the like angle of incidence,
from the object to the glass, and from the glass to the
eye. And if you strike a ball side-long, not full upon the
surface, the rebound will be as much the contrary way :
whether there be any such resilience in echos, that
is, whether a man shall hear better if he stand aside
the body repercussing, than if he stand where he
speaketh, or any where in a right line between, may
be tried. Trial likewise should be made, by standing
nearer the place of repercussing than he that speaketh ;
and again by standing farther off than he that speak-
eth ; and so knowledge would be taken, whether
echos, as well as original sounds, be not strongest
pear hand.

246. THERE be many places where you shall hear a
number of echos one after another: and it is when
there is variety of hills or woods, some nearer, some
farther off: so that the return from the farther, being
last created, will be likewise last heard.

247. As the voice goeth round, as well towards
the back, as towards the front of him that speaketh ;
so likewise doth the echo : for you have many back
echos to the place where you stand.

248. To make an echo that will report three, or
four, or five words distinctly, it is requisite that the

Cent. III.] Natural History. 339

body repercussing be a good distance off: for if it be
near, and yet not so near as to make a concurrent
echo, it choppeth with you upon the sudden. It is
requisite likewise that the air be not much pent : for
air at a great distance pent, worketh the same effect
with air at large in a small distance. And therefore in
the trial of speaking in the well, though the well was
deep, the voice came back suddenly, and would bear
the report but of two words.

24-9. FoRechos upon echos, there is a rare instance
thereof in a place which I will now exactly describe.
Jt is some three or four miles from Paris, near a town
called Pont-Charenton ; and some bird-bolt shot or
more from the river of Sein. The room is a chapel or
small church. The walls all standing, both at the
sides 'and at the ends. Two rows of pillars, after the
manner of isles of churches, also standing ; the roof
all open, not so much as any embowment near any of
the walls left. There was against every pillar a stack
of billets above a man's height ; which the watermen
that bring wood down the Sein in stacks, and not in
boats, laid there, as it seemeth for their ease. Speak-
ing at the one end, I did hear it return the voice thir-
teen several times ; and I have heard of others, that
it would return sixteen times : for I was there about
three of the clock in the afternoon : and it is best, as
all other echos are, in the evening. It is manifest
that it is not echos from several places, but a tossing
of the voice, as a ball, too and fro ; like to reflexions
in looking glasses, where if you place one glass be-
fore and another behind, you shall see the glass behind
with the image, within the glass before ; and again,
the glass before in that ; and divers such super-re-
flexions, till the species speciei at last die. For it is
every return weaker and more shady. In like man-
ner the voice in that chapel createth speciem speciei,
and maketh succeeding super-reflexions ; for it
melteth by degrees, and every reflexion is weaker
than the former: so that if you speak three words, it
will, perhaps, some three tiuies report you the whole
>rds; and then the two latter words for some

340 Natural History. [Cent. III.

times ; and then the last word alone for some times ;
still fading and growing weaker. And whereas in
echos of one return, it is much to hear four or five
words ; in this echo of so many returns upon the mat-
ter, you hear above twenty words for three.

250. THE like echo upon echo, but only with two
reports, hath been observed to be, if you stand be-
tween a house and a hill, and lure towards the hill.
For the house will give a back echo ; one taking it
from the other, and the latter the weaker.

251. THERE are certain letters that an echo will
hardly express ; as S for one, especially being prin-
cipal in a word. I remember well, that when I went
to the echo at Pont-Charenton, there was an old Pa-
risian, that took it to be work of spirits, and of good
spirits. For, said he, call Satan, and the echo will
not deliver back the devil's name; but will say, va
€cn\ which is as much in French as apage, or void.
And thereby I did hap to find, that an echo would
not return S, being but a hissing and an interior
sound.

252. ECHOS are some more sudden, and chop again
as soon as the voice is delivered ; as hath been partly
said : others are more deliberate, that is, give more
space between the voice and the echo ; which is
caused by the local nearness or distance: some will
report a longer train of words, and some a shorter :
some more loud, full as loud as the original, and
sometimes more loud, and some weaker and fainter.

253. WHERE echos come from several parts at the
same distance, they must needs make, as it were, a
choir of echos, and so make the report greater, and
even a continued echo; which you shall find in some
hills that stand encompassed theatre-like.

254. IT doth not yet appear that there is refraction
in sounds, as well as in species visible. For I do
not think, that if a sound should pass through divers
mediums, as air, cloth, wood, it would deliver the
sound in a different place from that unto which it is
deferred ; which is the proper effect of refraction.
But majoration, which is also the work of refraction,

Cent. III.] Natural History. 341

appearetb plainly in sounds, as hath been handled at
full, but it is not by diversity of mediums*

^Experiments in consort, touching the consent and dissent

between visiblcs and audibles.

WE have obiter, for demonstration sake, used in
divers instances the examples of the sight and things
visible, to illustrate the nature of sounds: but we
think good now to prosecute that comparison moic
fully.

Consent of visibles and audibles.

255. BOTH of them spread themselves in round,
and fill a whole floor or orb unto certain limits ; and
are carried a great way : and do languish and lessen
by degrees, according to the distance of the objects
from the censories.

256. BOTH of them have the whole species in every
small portion of the air, or medium, so as the species
do pass through small crannies without confusion: as
we see ordinarily in levels, as to the eye ; and in
crannies or chinks, as to the sound.

257. BOTH of them are of a sudden and easy gene-
ration and dilation ; and likewise perish swiftly and
suddenly; as i£ you remove the light, or touch the
bodies that give the sound.

25-8. BOTH of them do receive and carry exquisite
and accurate differences ; as of colours, figures, mo-
tions, distances, in visibles; and of articulate voices,
tones, songs, and quaverings, in audibles.

259. BOTH of them, in their virtue and working,
do not appear to emit any corporal substance into their
mediums, or the orb of their virtue ; neither again to
raise or stir any evident local motion in their mediums
as they pass ; but only to carry certain spiritual spe-
cies ; the perfect knowledge of the cause whereof,
being hitherto scarcely attained, we shall search and
handle in due place.

260. BOTH of them seem not to generate or pro-
duce any other effect in nature, but such as apper-
taineth to their proper objects and senses, and are
otherwise barren.

VOL. i. z,

3-12 Natural History. [Cent. III.

261. BLTT both of them in their own proper action
do work three manifest effects. The first, in (hat
the stronger species drowneth the lesser ; as the light
of the sun the light of a glow-worm ; the report of an
ordnance, the voice : The second, in that an object
of surcharge or excess destroyeth the sense ; as the
light of the sun the eye ; a violent sound near the ear
the hearing: The third, in that both of them will be
reverberate ; as in mirrors and in echos.

262. NJIITHEII of them doth destroy or hinder the
species of the other, although they encounter in the
same medium ; as light or colour hinder not sound,
nor c contra.

263. Bom of them affect the sense in living crea-
tures, and yield objects of pleasure and dislike : yet
nevertheless the objects of them do also, if it be well
observed, affect and work upon dead things ; namely,
such as have some conformity with the organs of the
two senses ; as visibles work upon a looking-glass,
which is like the pupil of the eye ; and audibles upon
the places of echo, which resemble in some sort the
cavern and structure of the ear.

264. BOTH of them do diversly work, as they have
their medium diversly disposed. So a trembling me-
dium, as smoke, maketh the object seem to tremble ;
and a rising and falling medium, as winds, maketh
the sounds to rise or fall.

265. To both, the medium, which is the most pro-
pitious and conducible, is air ; for glass or water,
etc. are not comparable.

266. IN both of them, where the object is fine and
accurate, it conduceth much to have the sense inten-
tive and erect ; insomuch as you contract your eye
when you would see sharply ; and erect your ear when
you would hear attentively ; which in beasts that
have ears moveable is most manifest.

1 267. THE beams oi light, when they are multiplied
and conglomerate, generate heat ; which is a diffe-
rent action from the action of sight : and the mul-
tiplication and conglomeration of sounds doth gene-
rate an extreme rarefaction of the air; which is

Cent. III.] Natural History. 34;

an action materiatc, differing from the action of sound ;
if it be true, which is anciently reported, that birds
\vith great shouts, have fallen down.

Dissents of visibles and audibles.

268. THE species of visibles seem to be emissions
of beams from the objects seen, almost like odours,
save that they are more incorporeal : but the species
of audibles seem to participate more with local mo-
tion, like percussions, or impressions made upon the
air. So that whereas all bodies do seem to work in
two manners, cither by the communication of their
natures, or by the impressions and signatures of their
motions ; the diffusion of species visible seemeth to
participate more of the former operation, and the
species audible of the latter.

269. THE species of audibles seem to be carried
more manifestly through the air than the species of
visibles : for I conceive that a contrary strong wind
will not much hinder the sight of visibles, at it will
do the hearing of sounds.

270. THERE is one difference above all others be-
tween visibles and audibles, tliat is the most remark-
able, as that whereupon many smaller differences do
depend : namely, that visibles, except lights, are car-
ried in right lines, and audibles in arcuate lines. Hence
it cometh to pass, that visibles do not intermingle and
confound one another, as hath been said before ; but
sounds do. Hence it cometh, that the solidity of
bodies doth not much hinder the sight, so that the
bodies be clear, and the pores in a right line, as in
glass, crystal, diamonds, water, etc. but a thin scarf
or handkerchief, though they be bodies nothing so
solid, hinder the sight : whereas, contrariwise, these
porous bodies do not much hinder the hearing, but
solid bodies do almost stop it, or at the least attenuate
it. Hence also it cometh, that to the reflexion of
visibles small glasses suffice; but to the reverberation
of audibles are required greater spaces, as hath like-
wise been said before.

271. VISIBLES are seen farther off than sounds are

344 Natural History. [Cent. III.

heard, allowing nevertheless the rate of their big-
ness ; for otherwise a great sound will be heard far-
ther off than a small body seen.

272. VISIBLES require, generally, some distance
between the object and the eye, to be better seen ;
whereas in audibles, the nearer the approach of the
sound is to the sense, the better. But in this there
may be a double error. The one because to seeing
there is required light; and any thing that toucheth
the pupil of the eye all over excludeth the light. For
I have heard of a person very credible, who himself
was cured of a cataract in one of his eyes, that while
the silver needle did work upon the sight of his eye,
to remove the film of the cataract, he never saw any
thing more clear or perfect than that white needle :
which, no doubt, was, because the needle was lesser
than the pupil of the eye, and so took not the light
from it. The other error may be, for that the object
of sight doth strike upon the pupil of the eye directly
without any interception ; whereas the cave of the
ear doth hold off the sound a little from the organ :
and so nevertheless there is some distance required
in both.

273. VISIBLES are swiftlier carried to the sense
than audibles ; as appeareth in thunder and lightning,
flame and report of a piece, motion of the air in hew-
ing of wood. All which have been set down here-
tofore, but are proper for this title.

274. I CONCEIVE also, that the species of audibles
do hang longer in the air than those of visibles: for
although even those of visibles do hang some time,
as we see in rings turned, that shew like spheres ; in
Jute-strings iiilipped ; a fire-brand carried along,
which leaveth a train of light behind it ; and in the
twilight ; and the like : yet I conceive that sounds
stay longer, because they ure carried up and down
with the wind .; and because of the distance of the
time in ordnance discharged, and heard twenty
miles off.

275. IN visibles there are not found objects so odi-
ous and ingratc to the sense as- in audibles. For foul

Cent. III.] .'Natural History. 345

sights do rather displease, in that they excite the me-
mory of foul things, than in the immediate objects.
And therefore in pictures, those foul sights do not
much offend ; but in audibles, the grating of a saw,
when it is sharpened, doth offend so much, as it set-
teth the teeth on edge. And any of the harsh discords
in music the ear doth straightways refuse.

276. IN visibles, after great light, if you come
suddenly into the dark, or contrariwise, out of the
dark into a glaring light, the eye is dazzled for a
time, and the sight confused ; but whether any such
effect be after great sounds, or after a deep silence,
may be better inquired. It is an old tradition, that
those that dwell near the cataracts of Nilus, are struck
deaf: but we find no such effect in cannoneers, nor
millers, nor those that dwell upon bridges.

277. IT seemeth that the impression of colour is so
weak, as it worketh not but by a cone of direct
beams, or right lines, whereof the basis is in the ob-
ject, and the vertical point in the eye ; so as there is
a corradiatipn and conjunction of beams; and those
beams so sent forth, yet are not of any force to beget
the like borrowed or second beams, except it be by
reflexion, whereof we speak not. For the beams pass
and give little tincture to that air which is adjacent ;
which if they did, we should see colours out of a right
line. But as this is in colours, so otherwise it is in
the body of light. For when there is a skreen be-
tween the candle and the eye, yet the light passeth
to th£ paper whereon one writeth ; so that the light
is seen where the body of the flame is not seen, and
where any colour, if it were placed where the body
of the flame is, would not be seen. I judge that
sound is of this latter nature ; for when two are
placed on both sides of a wall, and the voice is
heard, I judge it is not only the original sound which
passeth in an arched line ; but the sound which
passeth above the wall in a right line, begetteth the
like motion round about it as the first did, though
more weak.

346 Natural History. [Cent. III.

Experiments~in consort touching the sympathy or ant I-
pathy of sounds one with another.

278. ALL concords and discords of music are, no
doubt, sympathies and antipathies of sounds. And
so, likewise, in that music which we call broken
music or consort music, some consorts of instruments
are sweeter than others, a thing not sufficiently yet
observed : as the Irish harp and base viol agree well :
the recorder and stringed music agree well : organs
and the voice agree well, etc. But the virginals and
the lute ; or the Welsh harp and Irish harp ; or the
voice and pipes alone, agree not so well ; but for the
melioration of music, there is yet much left, in this
point of exquisite consorts, to try and inquire.

279. THERE is a common observation, that if a lute
or viol be laid upon the back, with a small straw
upon one of the strings ; and another lute or viol
be laid by it ; and in the other lute or viol the
unison to that string be struck, it will make the
string move ; which will appear both to the eye and
by the straw's falling off. The like will be, if the dia-
pason or eighth to that string be struck, either in the
same lute or viol, or in others lying by ; but in none
of these there is any report of sound that can be dis-
cerned, but only motion.

280. IT was devised, that a viol should have a lay
of wire-strings below, as close to the belly as a lute ;
and then the strings of guts mounted upon a bridge
as in ordinary viols ; to the end that by this means
the upper strings struck, should make the lower re-
sound by sympathy, and so make the music the bet-
ter; which if it be to purpose, then sympathy work-
eth as well by report of sound as by motion. But
this-device I conceive to be of no use, because the
upper strings, which are stopped in great variety,
cannot maintain a diapason or unison with the lower,
which are never stopped, But if it should be of use
at all, it must be in instruments which have no stops,^
as virginals and harps ; wherein trial may be made pt
two rows of strings, distant the one from the other.

Cent. III.
no T rr,

int. III.] Natural History. 347

281. THE experiment of sympathy may be trans-
ferred, perhaps, from instruments of strings toother
instruments of sound. As to try, if there were in one
steeple two bells of unison, whether the striking of the
one would move the other, more than if it were an-
other aecord : and so in pipes, if they be of equal bore
and sound, whether a little straw or feather would
move in the one pipe, when the other is blown at an
unison.

282. IT seemeth, both in ear and eye, the instru-
ment of sense hath a sympathy or similitude with that
which giveth the reflexion, as hath been touched be-
fore : for as the sight of the eye is like a crystal or
glass, or water ; so is the ear a sinuous cave, with a
hard bone to stop and reverberate the sound : which
is like to the places that report echos.

Experiments in consort touching the hindering or help-
ing of the hearing.

283. WHEN a man yawneth, he cannot hear so
well. The cause is, for that the membrane of the
ear is extended ; and so rather casteth off the sound
than draweth it to.

284. WE hear better when we hold our breath than
contrary: insomuch as in all listening to attain a
sound afar off men hold their breath. 'The cause is3 for
that in all expiration the motion is outwards ; and
therefore rather driveth away the voice than draweth
it : and besides we see, that in all labour to do tilings
with any strength, we hold the breath ; and listening
after any sound that is heard with difficulty, is a kind
of labour.

285. LET it be tried, for the help of the hearing,
and I conceive it likely to succeed, to make an in-
strument like a tunnel ; the narrow part whereof may
be of the bigness of the hole of the ear; and the
broader end much larger, like a bell at the skirts;
and the length half a foot or more. And let the nar-
row end ot it be set close to the ear : and mark whe-
ther any sound, abroad in the open air, will not be
heard distinctly from farther distance, than without

348 Natural History. [Cent. III.

that instrument ; being, as it were, an ear-spectacle.
And I have heard there is in Spain an instrument in
use to be set to the ear, that helpeth somewhat those
that are thick of hearing.

286. IF the mouth be shut close, nevertheless there
is yielded by the roof of the mouth a murmur; such
as is used by dumb men. But if the nostrils be like-
wise stopped, no such murmur can be made : except
it be in the bottom of the palate towards the throat.
Whereby it appeareth manifestly, that a sound in the
mouth, except such as aforesaid, if the mouth be
stopped, passeth from the palate through the nostrils.

Experiments in consort touching the spiritual and fine
nature of sounds.

287. THE repercussion of sounds, which we call
echo, is a great argument of the spiritual essence of
sounds. For if it were corporeal, the repercussion
should be created in the same manner, and by like in-
struments, with the original sound : but we see what
a number of exquisite instruments must concur in
speaking of words, whereof there is no such matter
in the returning of them, but only a plain stop and
repercussion.

288. THE exquisite differences of articulate sounds,
carried along in the air, shew that they cannot be sig?
natures or impressions in the air, as hath been well re-
iuted by the ancients. For it is true, that seals make
excellent impressions; and so it may be thought of
sounds in their first generation: but then the dila-
tion and continuance of them without any new seal-
ing, shew apparently they cannot be impressions.

289. ALL sounds are suddenly made, and do sud-
denly perish : but neither that, nor the exquisite dif-
ferences of them, is matter of so great admiration : for
the quaveringsand warblings in lutes an4 pipes are as
swift; and the tongue, which is no very fine instru-
ment, cloth in speech make no fewer motions than
there be letters in all the words which are uttered.
But that sounds should not only be so speedily gene-
rated, but carried so far every way in such a moment-

;ent. III.] Natural History.

ary time, cieserveth more admiration. As for exam-
ple, if a man stand in the middle of a field and speak
aloud, he shall be heard a furlong in a round ; and
that shall be in articulate sounds; and those shall be
entire in every little portion of the air; and this shall
be done in the space of less than a minute.

290. THE sudden generation and perishing of
sounds, must be one of these two ways. Either that
the air suffereth some force by sound, and then re-
storeth itself as water doth; which being divided,
maketh many circles, till it restore itself to the natural
consistence : or otherwise, that the air doth willingly
imbibe the sound as grateful, but cannot maintain it;
for that the air hath, as it should seem, a secret and
hidden appetite of receiving the sound at the first;
but then other gross and more materiate qualities of
the air straightways suffocate it ; like unto flame,
which is generated with alacrity, but straight quench-
ed by the enmity of the air or other ambient bodies.

There be these differences, in general, by which
sounds are divided: 1. Musical, immusical. 2. Tre-
ble, base. 3. Flat, sharp. 4. Soft, loud. 5. Ex-
terior, interior. 6. Clean, harsh or purling. 7. Ar-
ticulate, inarticulate.

We have laboured, as may appear, in this inquisi-
tion of sounds diligently; both because sound is one
of the most hidden portions of nature, as we said in
the beginning, and because it is a virtue which may
be called incorporeal and immateriate ; whereof there
be in nature but few. Besides, we were willing, now
in these our first centuries, to make a pattern or prece-
dent of an exact inquisition ; and we shall do the like
hereafter in some other subjects which require it.
For we desire that men should learn and perceive,
how severe a thing the true inquisition of nature is ;
and should accustom themselves by the light of par-
ticulars to enlarge their minds to the amplitude of the
world, and not reduce the world to the narrowness of
their minds.

350 Natural History. [Cent. III.

Experiment solitary touching the orient colours in disso-
lution of metals.

291. METAT.S give orient and fine colours in disso-
lutions; as gold giveth an excellent yellow; quick-
silver an excellent green ; tin giveth an excellent
azure : likewise in their putre factions or rusts ; as
vermilion, verdigrease, bise, cirrus, etc. and likewise
in their vitrifications. The cause is, for that by their
strength of body they are able to endure the fire or
strong waters, and to be put into an equal posture ;
and again to retain part of their principal spirit ;
which two things, equal posture and quick spirits,
are required chiefly to make colours lightsome.

Experiment, solitary touching prolongation of life.

292. IT conduceth unto long life, and to the more
placid motion of the spirits, which thereby do less prey
and consume the juice of the body, either that mens
actions be free and voluntary, that nothing be donei/i-
vita Minerva, but secundum genium ; or on the other
side, that the actions of men be full of regulation and
commands within themselves: for then the victory
and performing of the command giveth a good dispo-
sition to the spirits; especially if there be a proceed-
ing from degree to degree ; for then the sense of the
victory is the greater. 'An example of the former of
these is a country life ; and of the latter in monks and
philosophers, and such as do continually enjoy them-
selves.

Experiment solitary touching appetite of union in bodies.

293. IT is certain that in all bodies there is an appe-
tite of union and evitation of solution of continuity :
and of this appetite there be many degrees ; but the
most remarkable and fit to be distinguished are three.
The first in liquors ; the second in hard bodies ; and
the third in bodies cleaving or tenacious. In liquors
this appetite is weak : we see in liquors, the thread-
ing of them in stillicides, as hath been said ; the tailing
of them in round drops, which is the form of union ;
and the staying of them for a little time in bubbles

:nt. III.] Natural History. 351

and froth. In the second degree or kind, this appe-
tite is strong ; as in iron, in stone, in wood, etc. In
the third, this appetite is in a medium between the
other two : for such bodies do partly follow the touch
of another body, and partly stick and continue to
themselves ; and therefore they rope, and draw them-
selves in threads ; as we see in pitch, glue, birdlime,
etc. But note, that all solid bodies are cleaving more
or less : and that they love better the touch of some-
what that is tangible, than of air. For water in small
quantity cleaveth to any thing that is solid ; and
so would metal too, if the weight drew it not ofF.
And therefore gold foliate, or any metal foliate,
cleavjefh : but those bodies which are noted to be
ckrmmy and cleaving, are such as have a more indif-
ferent appetite at once to follow another body, and
to hold to themselves. And therefore they are com-
monly bodies ill mixed ; and which take more plea-
sure in a foreign body, than in preserving their own
consistence ; and which have little predominance in
drought or moisture.

Experiment solitary touching the like operations of heat

and time.

294. TIME and heat are fellows in many effects.
Heat drieth bodies that do easily expire ; as parch-
ment, leaves, roots, clay, etc. And so doth time or
age arefy ; as in the same bodies, etc. Heat dissolveth
and melteth bodies that keep in their spirits ; as in
divers liquefactions : and so doth time in some bodies
of a softer consistence, as is manifest in honey, which
by age waxeth more liquid, and the like in sugar ;
and so in old oil, which is ever more clear and more
hot in medicinable use. Heat causeth the spirits to
search some issue out of the body ; as in the volati-
lity of metals ; and so doth time ; as in the rust of
metals. But generally heat doth that in a small time,
which age doth in long.

352 Natural History. [Cent. III.

Experiment solitary touching the differing operations of
jire and time.

295. SOME things which pass the fire are softest at
first, and by time grow hard, as the crumb of bread.
Some are harder when they come from the fire, and
afterwards give again, and grow soft, as the crust of
bread, biskit, sweet-meats, salt, etc. The cause is,
for that in those things which wax hard with time, the
work of the fire is a kind of melting ; and in those that
wax soft with time, contrariwise, the work of the fire
is a kind of baking ; and whatsoever the fire baketh,
time doth in some degree dissolve.

Exper'nnent solitary, touching motions by imitation.

296. MOTIONS pass from one man to another, not
so much by exciting imagination, as by imitation ; es-
pecially if there be an aptness or inclination before.
Therefore gaping, or yawning, and stretcm'ng do pass
from man to man ; for that that causeth gaping and
stretching is, when the spirits are a little heavy by
any vapour, or the like. For then they strive, as it
were, to wring out and expel that which loadeth
them. So men drowsy, and desirous to sleep, or be-
fore the fit of an ague, do use to yawn and stretch ;
and do likewise yield a voice or sound, which is an in-
terjection of expulsion : so that if another be apt and
prepared to do the like, he followeth by the sight of
another. So the laughing of another maketh to laugh.

Experiment solitary touching infectious diseases.

297. THERE be some known diseases that are in-
fectious; and others that are not. Those that are
infectious are, first, such as are chiefly in the spirits,
and not so much in the humours ; and therefore pass
easily from body to body ; such are pestilences, lepi-
tudes, and such like. Secondly, such as taint the
breath, which we see passeth manifestly from man to
man; and not invisibly, as the effects of the spirits
do ; such are consumptions of the lungs, etc. Thirdly,
such as come forth to the skin, and therefore taint
the air or the body adjacent j especially it they consist

Cent. III.] Natural History. 553

in an unctuous substance not apt to dissipate ; such
are scabs and leprosy. Fourthly, such as are merely
in the humours, and not in the spirits, breath, or ex-
halations : and therefore they never infect but by
touch only ; and such a touch also as cometh within the
epidermis ; as the venom of the French pox, and the
biting of a mad dog.

Experiment solitary touching the incorporation of pow-
ders and liquors.

298. MOST powders grow more close and coherent
by mixture of water, than by mixture of oil, though
oil be the thicker body; as meal, etc. The reason is
the congruity of bodies; which if it be more, maketh
a perfecter imbibition and incorporation ; which in
most powders is more between them and water, than,
between them and oil : but painters colours ground,
and ashes, do better incorporate with oil.

Experiment solitary, touching exercise of the body.

299. MUCH motion and exercise is good for some
bodies ; and sitting and less motion for others. If the
body be hot and void of superfluous moistures, too
much motion hurteth : and it is an error in physicians,
to call too much upon exercise. Likewise men ought
to beware, that they use not exercise and a spare diet
both: but if much exercise, then a plentiful diet; and
if sparing diet, then little exercise. The benefits that
come of exercise are, first, that it sendcth nourish-
ment into the parts more forcibly. Secondly, that it
helpeth to excern by sweat, and so maketh the parts
assimilate the more perfectly. Thirdly, that it maketh
the substance of the body more solid and compact;
and so less apt to be consumed and depredated by the
spirits. The evils that come of exercise are, first, that
it maketh the spirits more hot and predatory. Secondly,
that it doth absorb likewise, and attenuate too much
the moisture of the body. Thirdly, that it maketh too
great concussion, especially if it be violent, of the inr
ward parts, which delight more in rest. But gene-
rally exercise, if it be-much, is no friend to prolonga-

Natural History. [Cent. III.

tion of life ; which is one cause why women live
longer than men, because they stir less.

Experiments solitary touching meats that induce satiety.
300. SOME food we may use long, and much, with-
out glutting ; as bread, flesh that is not fat or rank,
etc. Some other, though pleasant, glutteth sooner ;
as sweet-meats, fat meats, etc. The cause is, for that
appetite consisteth in the emptiness of the mouth of
the stomach ; or possessing it with somewhat that is
astringent; and therefore cold and dry. But things
that are sweet and fat are more rilling ; and do swing
and hang more about the mouth of the stomach; and
go not down so speedily: and again turn sooner to
choler, which is hot and ever abateth the appetite,
We see also that another cause of satiety is an over-
custom ; and of appetite is novelty ; and therefore
meats, if the same be continually taken, induce
loathing. To give the reason of the distaste of satiety,
and the pleasure of novelty; and to distinguish not
only in meats and drinks, but also in motions, loves,
company, delights, studies, what they be that custom
maketh more grateful, and what more tedious, were
a large field. But for meats the cause is attraction,
which is quicker, and more excited towards that
which is new, than towards that whereof there re-
maineth a relish by former use. And, generally, it is
a rule, that whatsoever is somewhat ingrate at first, is
made grateful by custom; but whatsoever is too
pleasing at first, groweth quickly to satiate.

[ 355 ]

NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY IV.

in consort touching the clarification of
liquors, and the accelerating thereof.

ACCELERATION of time, in works of nature,
may well be esteemed inter magnaliu nature. And
even in divine miracles, accelerating of the time
is next to the creating of the matter. We will now
therefore proceed to the inquiry of it : and for acce-
leration of germination, we will refer it over unto the
place where we shall handle the subject of plants ge-
nerally; and will now begin with other accelera-
tions.

301. LIQUORS are, many of them, at the first thick
and troubled ; as muste, wort, juices of fruits, or herbs
expressed, etc. and by time they settle and clarify.
But to make them clear before the time is a great
work 3 for it is a spur to nature, and putteth her out
of her pace: and, besides, it is of good use for making
drinks and sauces potable and serviceable speedily.
But to know the means of accelerating clarification,
we must first know the causes of clarification. The
first cause is, by the separation of the grosser parts of
the liquor from the finer. The second, by the equal
distribution of the spirits of the liquor with the tangi-
ble parts : for that ever representeth bodies clear and
untroubled. The third, by the refining the spirit it-
self, which thereby giveth to the liquor more splen-
dor and more lustre.

302. FIRST, for separation, it is wrought by weight,
as in the ordinary residence or settlement ot liquors ;
by heat, by motion, by precipitation, or sublimation,
that is, a calling of the several parts either up or down,
which is a kind of attraction ; by adhesion, as when a

356 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

body more viscous is mingled and agitated with the
liquor, which viscous body, afterwards severed, draw-
eth with it the grosser parts of the liquor ; and lastly,
by percolation or passage.

303. SECONDLY, for the even distribution of the
spirits, it is wrought by gentle heat -y and by agita*
tion or motion, for of time we speak not, because it
is that we would anticipate and represent ; and it is
wrought also by mixture of some other body which
hath a virtue to open the liquor, and to make the
spirits the better pass through.

304. THIRDLY, for the refining of the spirit, it is
wrought likewise by heat ; by motion ; and by mix-
ture of some body which hath virtue to attenuate. So
therefore, having shewn the causes, for the accelera-
ting of clarification, in general, and the inducing of it,
take these instances and trials.

305. IT is in common practice to draw wine or
beer from the lees, which we call racking, whereby
it will clarify much the sooner: for the lees, though
they keep the drink in heart, and make it lasting; yet
withal they cast up some spissitude : and this instance
is to be referred to separation.

306. ON the other side it were good to try, what
the adding to the liquor more lees than his own will
work ; for though the lees do make the liquor turbid,
yet they refine the spirits. Take therefore a vessel
of new beer, and take another vessel of new beer,
and rack the one vessel from the lees, and pour the
lees of the racked vessel into the unracked vessel, and
see the effect : this instance is referred to the refining
of the spirits.

307. TAKE new beer, and put in some quantity of
stale beer into it, and see whether it will not accele-
rate the clarification, by opening the body of the beer,
and cutting the grosser parts, whereby they may fall
down into lees. And this instance again is referred
to separation.

308. THE longer malt or herbs, or the like, are in-
fused in liquor, the more thick and troubled the
liquor is 5 but the longer they be decocted in the

rv.«f T

Cent. IV. J Natural History. 357

liquor, the clearer it is. The reason is plain, because
in infusion, the longer it is, the greater is the part
of the gross body that goeth into the liquor : but in
decoction, though more goeth forth, yet it either
purgeth at the top, or settleth at the bottom. And
therefore the most exact way to clarify is, first, to in-
fuse, and then to take off the liquor and decoct it ; as
they do in beer, which hath malt first infused in the
liquor, and is afterwards boiled with the hop. This
also is referred to separation.

309. TAKE hot embers, and put them about a bottle
filled with new beer, almost to the very neck ; let the
bottle be well stopped, lest it fly out : and continue
it, renewing the embers every day, by the space of
ten days ; and then compare it with another bottle of
the same beer set by. Take also lime both quenched

nd unquenched, and set the bottles in them ut supra.
~iis instance is referred both to the even distribution,
and also to the refining of the spirits by heat.

310. TAKE bottles and swing them, or carry them
in a wheel-barrow upon rough ground twice in a day,

ut then you may not fill the bottles full, but leave
some air ; for if the liquor come close to the stopple,
it cannot play nor flower : and when you have shaken
them well either way, pour the drink into another
bottle stopped close after the usual manner ; for if it
stay with much air in it, the drink will pall ; neither
will it settle so perfectly in all the parts. Let it stand
some twenty-four hours : then take it, and put it
again into a bottle with air, ut supra : and thence
into a bottle stopped, ut supra: and so repeat the
same operation .for seven days. Note, that in the
emptying of one bottle into another, you must do it
swiftly lest the drink pall. It were good also to try
it in a bottle with a little air below the neck, without
emptying. This instance is referred to the even dis-
tribution and refining of the spirits by motion.

311. As for percolation inward and outward,
which belongeth to separation, trial would be made
of clarifying by adhesion, with milk put into new
beer, and stirred with it : for it may be that the grosser

VOL. i. A A

358 „ Natural History. [Cent. IV.

part of the beer will cleave to the milk : the doubt is,
whether the milk will sever well again ; which is soon
tried. And it is usual in clarifying hippocras to put
in milk ; which after severeth and carrieth with it the
grosser parts of the hippocras, as hath been said else-
where. Also for the better clarification by percola-
tion, when they tun new beer, they use to let it pass
through a strainer; and it is like the finer the strainer
is, the clearer it will be.

Experiments in consort touching maturation, and the
accelerating thereof. And first touching the matura-
tion and quickening of drinks. And next, touching
the maturation of fruits.

THE accelerating of maturation we will now in-
quire of. And of maturation itself. It is of three
natures. The maturation of fruits : the maturation
of drinks : and the maturation of impostumes and
ulcers. This last we refer to another place, where
we shall handle experiments medicinal. There be
also other maturations, as of metals, <3fc. whereof we
will speak as occasion serveth. But we will begin
with that of drinks, because it hath such affinity with
the clarification of liquors.

312. FOR the maturation of drinks, it is wrought
by the congregation of the spirits together, whereby
they digest more perfectly the grosser parts: and it
is effected partly by the same means that clarification
is, whereof we spake before ; but then note, that an
extreme clarification doth spread the spirits so smooth,
as they become dull, and the drink dead, which
ought to have a little flowering. And therefore all
your clear amber drink is flat.

313. WE see the degrees of maturation of drinks;
in.muste, in wine, as it is drunk, and in vinegar.
'Whereof muste hath not the spirits well congregated ;
wine hath them well united, so as they make the
parts somewhat more oily; vinegar hath them con-
gregated, but more jejune, and in smaller quantity,
the greatest and finest spirit and part being exhaled :
for we see vinegar is made by setting the vessel of

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 359

wine against the hot sun ; and therefore vinegar will
not burn ; for that much of the finer parts is exhaled.
314. THE refreshing and quickening of drink palled
or dead,, is by enforcing the motion of the spirit : so
we see that open weather relaxeth the spirit, and
maketh it more lively in motion. We see also bottling
of beer or ale, while it is new and full of spirit, so
that it spirteth when the stopple is taken forth,
maketh the drink more quick and windy. A pan of
coals in the cellar doth likewise good, and maketh
the drink work again. New drink put to drink
that is dead provoketh it to work again : nay, which
is more, as some affirm, a brewing of new beer set
by old beer, maketh it work again. It were good also
to enforce the spirits by some mixtures, that may ex-
cite and quicken them ; as by putting into the bottles,
nitre, chalk, lime, We. We see cream is matured, and
made to rise more speedily by putting in cold water ;
which, as it seemeth, getteth down the whey.

315. IT is tried, that the burying of bottles of drink
well stopped, either in dry earth a good depth ; or in

he bottom of a well within water ; and best of all,

the hanging of them in a deep well somewhat above

the water for some fortnight's space, is an excellent

neans of making drink fresh and quick ; for the cold

loth not cause any exhaling of the spirits at all, as

teat doth, though it rarifieth the rest that remain:

>ut cold maketh the spirits vigorous, and irritateth

them, whereby they incorporate the parts of the

liquor perfectly.

316. As for the maturation of fruits; it is wrought
>y the calling forth of the spirits of the body outward,
ind so spreading them more smoothly : and likewise
>y digesting in some degree the grosser parts : and
this is effected by heat, motion, attraction ; and by a

idiment of putrefaction : for the inception of putre-
faction hath in it a maturation.

317. THERE were taken apples, and laid in straw ;
in hay -y in flour ; in chalk ; in lime ; covered over
with onions ; covered over with crabs j closed up in
wax 5 shut in a box, etc. There was also an apple

A A 2

360 Natural History. [Cent. IV,

hanged up in smoke ; of all which the experiment
sorted in this manner.

318. AFTER a month's space, the apple inclosed in
\vax was as green and fresh as at the first putting in,
and the kernels continued white. The cause is, for
that all exclusion of open air, which is ever pre-
datory, maintaineth the body in its first freshness and
moisture : but the inconvenience is, that it tasteth a
little of the wax ; which, I suppose, in a pomegranate,
or some such thick-coated fruit, it would not do.

319. THE apple hanged in the smoke, turned like
an old mellow apple wrinkled, dry, soft, sweet, yellow
within. The cause is, for that such a degree of heat,
which doth neither melt nor scorch, for we see that
in a great heat, a roast apple softeneth and melteth ;
and pig's feet, made of quarters of wardens, scorch
and have a skin of cole, doth mellow, and not adure :
the smoke also maketh the apple, as it were, sprinkled
with soot, which helpeth to mature. We see that in
drying of pears and prunes in the oven, and removing
of them often as they begin to sweat, there is a like
operation ; but that is with a far more intense degree
or heat.

320. THE apples covered in the lime and ashes
were well matured ; as appeared both in their yel-
lowness and sweetness. The cause is, for that that
degree of heat which is in lime and ashes, being a
smothering heat, is of all the rest most proper, for
it doth neither liquefy nor arefy ; and that is true
maturation. Note, that the taste of those apples was
good ; and therefore it is the experiment fitted for use.

321. THE apples covered with crabs and onions
were likewise well matured. The cause is, not any
heat; but for that the crabs and the onions draw
forth the spirits of the apple, and spread them equally
throughout the body ; which taketh away hardness.
So we see one apple ripeneth against another. And
therefore in making of cyder they turn the apples
first upon a heap. So one cluster of grapes that
toucheth another whilst it groweth, ripeaeth faster j
botrus contra botriim citius matuwcit.

Cent. IVY] Natural History. 361

322. THE apples in the hay and straw ripened ap-
parently, though not so much as the other ; but the
apple in the straw more. The cause is, for that the
hay and straw have a very low degree of heat, but
yet close and smothering, and which drieth not.

323. THE apple in the close box was ripened also :
the cause is, for that all air kept close hath a degree
of warmth : as we see in wool, fur, plush, etc. Note,
that all these were compared with another apple of
the same kind, that lay of itself: and in comparison
of that were more sweet and more yellow, and so ap-
peared to be more ripe.

324. TAKE an apple, or pear, or other like fruit,
and roll it upon a table hard : we see in common
experience, that the rolling doth soften and sweeten
the fruit presently; which is nothing but the smooth
distribution of the spirits into the parts : for the une-
qual distribution of the spirits maketh the harshness :
but this hard rolling is between concoction, and a
simple maturation ; therefore, if you should roll them
but gently, perhaps twice a day; and continue it some
seven days, it is like they would mature more finely,
and like unto the natural maturation.

325. TAKE an apple, and cut out a piece of the
top, and cover it, to see whether that solution of con-
tinuity will not hasten a maturation : we see that
where a wasp, or a fly, or a worm hath bitten in a
grape, or any fruit, it will sweeten hastily.

326. TAKE an apple etc. and prick it with a pin
full of holes, not deep, and smear it a little with
sack or cinnamon water, or spirit of wine, every day
for ten days, to see if the virtual heat of the wine or
strong waters will not mature it.

In these trials also, as was used in the first, set an-
other of the same fruits by to compare them ; and try
them by their yellowness and by their sweetness.

Experiment solitary touching the making of gold.

THE world hath been much abused by the opi-
nion of making of gold: the work itself I judge to be
possible ; but the means, hitherto propounded, to
etTect it, are, in the practice, full of error and im-

Natural History. [Cent. IV.

posture ; and in the theory, full of unsound imagina-
tions. For to say, that nature hath an intention to
make all metals gold ; and that, if she were delivered
from impediments, she would perform her own work;
and that if the crudities, impurities, and leprosities of
metals were cured, they would become gold ; and
that a little quantity of the medicine, in the work of
projection, will turn a sea of the baser metal into
gold by multiplying : all these are but dreams ; and
so are many other grounds of alchemy. And to help
the matter, the alchemists call in likewise many va-
nities out of astrology, natural magic, superstitious
interpretations of scriptures, auricular traditions,
feigned testimonies of ancient authors, and the like.
Jt is true, on the other side, they have brought to
light not a few profitable experiments, and thereby
made the world some amends. But we, when we shall
come to handle the version and transmutation of bo-
dies, and the experiments concerning metals and mi-
nerals, will lay open the true ways and passages of
nature, which may lead to this great effect. ^\nd we
commend the wit of the Ohineses, who despair of mak-
ing of gold, but are mad upon the making of silver:
for certain it is, that it is more difficult to make gold,
which is the most ponderous and materiate amongst
metals, of other metals Jess ponderous and less ma-
teriate ; than via versa, to make silver of lead or
quicksilver ; both which are more ponderous than sil-
ver ; so that they need rather a farther degree of fixa-
tion, than any condensation. In the mean time, by
occasion of handling the axioms touching maturation,
\ve will direct a trial touching the maturing of me-
tals, and thereby turning some of them into gold:
for we conceive indeed, that a perfect good concoc-
tion, or digestion, or maturation of some metals,
will produce gold. And here we call to mind, that
we knew a Dutchman, that had wrought himself
into the belief of a great person, by undertaking that
he could make goldt whose discourse was, that gold
might be made j but that the alchemists over-fired
the work : for, he said, the making of gold did re-

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 363

quire a very temperate heat, as being in nature a sub-
terrany work, where little heat cometh ; but yet more
to the making of gold than of any other metal ; and
therefore that he would do it with a great lamp that
should carry a temperate and equal heat : and that it
was the work of many months. The device of the
lamp was folly ; but the over-firing now used, and the
equal heat to be required, and the making it a work
of some good time, are no ill discourses.

WE resort therefore to our axioms of maturation,
in effect touched before. The first is, that there be
used a temperate heat ; for they are ever temperate
heats that digest and mature : wherein we mean tem-
perate according to the nature of the subject; for
that may be temperate to fruits and liquors, which
will not work at all upon metals. The second is, that
the spirits of the metal be quickened, and the tan-
gible parts opened: for without those two operations,
the spirit of the metal wrought upon will not be
able to digest the parts. The third is, that the spirits
do spread themselves even, and move not subsultorily;
for that will make the parts close and pliant. And
this requireth a heat that doth not rise and fall, but
continue as equal as may be. The foqrth is, that no
part of the spirit be emitted, but detained : for if
there be emission of spirit the body of the metal will
be hard and churlish. And this will be performed,
partly by the temper of the fire ; and partly by the
closeness of the vessel. The fifth is, that there be.
choice made of the likeliest arjcj best prepared metal
for the version : for that will facilitate the work. The
sixth is, that you give time enough for the work: not
to prolong hopes, as the alchemists do, but indeed
to give nature a convenient space to work in. These
principles are most certain and true ; we will now
derive a direction of trial out of them, which may,
perhaps, by farther meditation be improved.

327. LET there be a small furnace made of a tem-
perate heat; let the heat be such as may keep the me-
tal perpetually molten, and no more; for that above
all importcth to the work. For the material, take

364 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

silver, which is the metal that in nature symbolizeth
most with gold ; put in also with the silver, a tenth
part of quicksilver, and a twelfth part of nitre, by
weight ; both these to quicken and open the body of
the metal : and so let the work be continued by the
space of six months at the least, I wish also, that
there be at sometimes an injection of some oiled sub-
stance ; such as they use in the recovering of gold,
tvhich by vexing with, separations hath been made
churlish : and this is to lay the parts more close and
smooth, which is the main work. For gold, as we see,
is the closest, and therefore the heaviest of metals ; and
is likewise the most flexible and tensible, Note, that
to think to make gold of quicksilver, because it is the
heaviest, is a thing not to be hoped; for quicksilver
will not indure the manage of the fire. Next to sil*
ver, I think copper were fittest to be the material,

Experiment solitary touching the nature of gold.

328. GOLD hath these natures ; greatness of weight;
closeness of parts ; fixation ; pliantness, or softness ;
immunity from rust ; colour or tincture of yellow.
Therefore the sure way, though most about, to make
gold, is to know the causes of the several natures be-*
fore rehearsed, and the axioms concerning the same.
For if a man can make a metal that hath all these pro-*
pertics, let men dispute whether it be gold or no.

Experiments in consort touching the inducing and ac-
celerating of putrefaction,

THE inducing and accelerating of putrefaction, is a
subject of a very universal inquiry ; for corruption is
a reciprocal to generation : and they two are as na-
ture's two terms or boundaries; and the guides to life
and death. Putrefaction is the work of the spirits of
bodies, which ever are unquiet to get forth and con-
gregate with the air, and to enjoy the sun-beams.
The getting forth, or spreading of the spirits, which
is a degree of getting forth, hath five differing opera-
tions. If the spirits be detained within the body,
and move more violently, there follaweth colliquation,

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 365

as in metals, etc. If more mildly, there followeth
digestion, or maturation ; as in drinks and fruits. If
the spirits be not merely detained, but protrude a lit-
tle, and that motion be confused and inordinate, there
followeth putrefaction ; which ever dissolveth the con-
sistence of the body into much inequality ; as in flesh,
rotten fruits, shining wood, etc. and also in the rust
of metals. But if that motion be in a certain order,
there followeth vivification and figuration ; as both in
living creatures bred of putrefaction, and in living
creatures perfect. But if the spirits issue out of the
body, there followeth desiccation, induration, con-
sumption, etc. as in brick, evaporation of bodies li-
quid, etc.

329. THE means to induce and accelerate putre-
faction, are, first, by adding some crude or watery
moisture ; as in wetting of any flesh, fruit, wood,
with water, etc. for contrariwise unctuous and oily
substances preserve.

330. THE second is by invitation or excitation; as
when a rotten apple lieth close to another apple that
is sound : or when dung, which is a substance already
putrified, is added to other bodies. And this is also
notably seen in church-yards where they bury much,
where the earth will consume the corpse in far shorter
time than other earth will.

331. THE third is by closeness and stopping, which
detaineth the spirits in prison more than they would ;
and thereby irritateth them to seek issue ; as in corn
and cloths which wax musty; and therefore open air,
which they call aer perflabilis, doth preserve : and
this doth appear more evidently in agues, which
come, most of them, of obstructions and penning
the humours which thereupon putrify.

332. THE fourth is by solution of continuity ; as we
see an apple will rot sooner if it be cut or pierced ;
and so will wood, etc. And so the flesh of creatures
alive, where they have received any wound.

333. THE fifth is either by the exhaling or by the
driving back of the principal spirits which preserve the
consistence of the body ; so that when their govern-

S66 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

ment is dissolved, every part returneth to his nature
or homogeny. And this appeareth in urine and blood
when they cool, and thereby break : it appeareth also
in the gangrene, or mortification of flesh, either by
opiates or by intense colds. I conceive also the same
effect is in pestilences ; for that the malignity of the
infecting vapour danceth the principal spirits, and
maketh them fly and leave their regiment ; and then
the humours, flesh, and secondary spirits, do dissolve
and break, as in an anarchy.

334. The sixth is when a foreign spirit, stronger
and more eager than the spirit of the body, entreth
the body ; as in the stinging of serpents. And this
is the cause, generally, that upon all poisons follow-
eth swelling : and we see swelling followeth also when
the spirits of the body itself congregate too much, as
upon blows and bruises ; or when they are pent in
too much, as in swelling upon cold. And we see also,
that the spirits coming of putrefaction of humours in
agues, etc. which may be counted as foreign spirits,
though they be bred within the body, do extinguish
and suffocate the natural spirits and heat.

335. THE seventh is by such a weak degree of heat,
as setteth the spirits in a little motion, but is not able
either to digest the parts, or to issue the spirits ; as is
seen in flesh kept in a room, that is not cool . whereas
in a cool and wet larder it will keep longer. And we
see that vivification, whereof putrefaction is the bas-
tard brother, is effected by such soft heats; as the
hatching of eggs, the heat of the womb, etc.

336. THE eighth is by the releasing of the spirits,
which before were close kept by the solidness of their
coverture, and thereby their appetite of issuing check-
ed ; as in the artificial rusts induced by strong waters
in iron, lead, etc. and therefore wetring hasteneth
rust 'or putrefaction of any thing, because it softeneth
the crust for the spirits to come forth.

337. THE ninth is by the interchange of heat and
cold, or wet and dry; as we see in the mouldering of
earth in frosts and sun ; and in the more hasty rotting
ot wood* that is sometimes wet, sometimes dry.

Cent. I

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 367

338. THE tenth is by time, and the work and pro-
cedure of the spirits themselves, which cannot keep
their station ; especially if they be left to themselves,
and there be not agitation or local motion. As we
see in corn not stirred, and mens bodies not exer-
cised.

339. ALL moulds are inceptions of putrefaction ;
as the moulds of pies and iiesh ; the moulds of oranges
and lemons, which moulds afterwards turn into
worms, or more odious putrefactions : and therefore*
commonly, prove to be of ill odour. And if the body
be liquid, and not apt to putrify totally, it will cast
up a mother in the top, as the mothers of distilled
waters.

340. Moss is a kind of mould of the earth and
trees. But it may be better sorted as a rudiment of
germination ; to which we refer it.

Experiments in consort touching prohibiting and pre-
venting pit tref action.

IT is an inquiry of excellent use, to inquire of the
means of preventing or staying putrefaction ; for
therein consisteth the means of conservation of bo-
dies: for bodies have two kinds of dissolutions; the
one by consumption and desiccation ; the other by
putrefaction. But as for the putrefactions of the bo-
dies of men and living creatures, as in agues, worms,
consumptions of the lungs, impostumes, and ulcers
both inwards and outwards, they are a great part of
physic and surgery ; and therefore we will reserve the
inquiry of them to the proper place, where we shall
handle medicinal experiments of all sorts. Of the
rest we will now enter into an inquiry : wherein much
light may be taken from that which hath been said
of the means to induce or accelerate putrefactions:
for the removing that which caused putrefaction,
doth prevent and avoid putrefaction.

341. THE first means of prohibiting or checking
putrefaction, is cold : for so we see that meat and
drink wrill last longer unputrified, or unsoured, in
winter than in summer : and we see that flowers and

368 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

fruits, put in conservatories of snow, keep fresh.
And this worketh by the detension of the spirits, and
constipation of the tangible parts.

342. THE second is astriction : for astriction pro-
hibiteth dissolution : as we see generally in medi-
cines, whereof such as are astringents do inhibit putre-
faction : and by the same reason of astringency, some
small quantity of oil of vitriol will keep fresh water
long from putrifying. And this astriction is in a sub-
stance that hath a virtual cold ; and it worketh partly
by the same means that cold doth.

343. THE third is the excluding of the air; and
again, the exposing to the air : for these contraries,
as it cometh often to pass, work the same effect, ac-
cording to the nature of the subject matter. So we
see, that beer or wine, in bottles close stopped,
last long ; that the garners under ground keep corn
longer than those above ground ; and that fruit closed
in wax keepeth fresh ; and likewise bodies put in
honey and flour keep more fresh : and liquors, drinks,
and juices, with a little oil cast on the top, keep fresh.
Contrariwise, we see that cloth and apparel not aired,
do breed moths and mould ; and the diversity is, that
in bodies that need detention of spirits, the exclusion
of the air doth good ; as in drinks and corn : but in
bodies that need emission of spirits to discharge some
of the superfluous moisture, it doth hurt, for they re-
quire airing.

344. THE fourth is motion and stirring ; for putre-
faction asketh rest : for the subtle motion which pu-
trefaction requireth, is disturbed by any agitation ;
and all local motion keepeth bodies integral, and their
parts together ; as we see that turning over of corn
in a garner, or letting it run like an hour-glass, from
an upper-room into a lower, doth keep it sweet ; and
running waters putrity not: and in mens bodies, exer-
cise hindereth putrefaction; and contrariwise, rest
and want of motion, or stoppings, whereby the run
of humours, or the motion of perspiration is stayed,
further putrefaction; as we partly touched a little
before.

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 369

345. THE fifth is, the breathing forth of the adven-
titious moisture in bodies ; for as wetting doth hasten
putrefaction, so convenient drying, whereby the more
radical moisture is only kept in, putteth back putre-
faction ; so we see that herbs and flowers, if they be
dried in the shade, or dried in the hot sun for a small
time, keep best. For the emission of the loose and
adventitious moisturedoth betray the radical moisture;
and cjarrieth it out for company.

346. THE sixth is the strengthening of the spirits of
bodies; for as a great heat keepeth bodies from pu-
trefaction, but a tepid heat inclineth them to putre-
faction ; so a strong spirit likewise preserveth, and
a weak or faint spirit disposeth to corruption. So
we find that salt water corrupteth not so soon as
fresh : and salting of oysters, and powdering of meat,
keepeth them from putrefaction. It would be tried
also, whether chalk put into water, or drink, doth not
preserve it from putrifying or speedy souring. So we
see that strong beer will last longer than small ; that
all things that are hot and aromatical, do help to pre-

Tve liquors, or powders, etc. which they do as well
by strengthening the spirits, as by soaking out the
loose moisture.

347. THE seventh is separation of the cruder parts,
md thereby making the body more equal ; for all im-
perfect mixture is apt to putrify ; and watery sub-
stances are more apt to putrify than oily. So we see
distilled waters will last longer than raw waters; and
things that have passed the fire do last longer than
those that have not passed the fire ; as dried pears, etc.

348. THE eighth is the drawing forth continually of
that part where the putrefaction beginneth ; which is,
commonly, the loose and watery moisture, not only
for the reason before given, that it provoketh the
radical moisture to come forth with it ; but because
being detained in the body, the putrefaction taking
"lold of it, infecteth the rest, as we see in the em-
balming dead bodies; and the same reason is of pre-

^rving herbs, or fruits, or flowers, in bran or meal.
' 349. THE ninth is the commixture of any -thing

£70 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

that is more oily or sweet : for such bodies are least
apt to putrify, the air working little upon them ; and
they not putrifying, preserve the rest. And therefore
we see syrups and ointments will last longer than
juices.

350. THE tenth is the commixture of somewhat
that is dry ; for putrefaction beginneth first from the
spirits ; and then from the moisture : and that that
is dry is unapt to putrify : and therefore smoke pre-
serveth flesh ; as we see in bacon and neats tongues,
and Martlemas beef, etc.

351. THE opinion of some of the ancients, that
blown airs do preserve bodies longer than other airs,
seemeth to me probable ; for that the blown airs,
being overcharged and compressed, will hardly re-
ceive the exhaling of any thing, but rather repulse it.
It was tried in a blown bladder, wherein to flesh was
put, and likewise a flower, and it sorted not : for dry
bladders will not blow ; and new bladders rather
further putrefaction : the way were therefore to blow
strongly with a pair of bellows into a hogshead,
putting into the hogshead, before, that which you
would have preserved 3 and in the instant that you
withdraw the bellows, stop the hole close.

Experiment solitary touching wood shining in the dark.

352. THE experiment of wood that shineth in the
dark, we have diligently driven and pursued: the
rather, for that of all things that give light here
below, it is the most durable, and hath least apparent
motion. Fire and flame are in continual expence ;
sugar shineth only while it is in scraping; and salt-
water while it is in dashing ; glow-worms have their
shining while they live, or a little after; only scales
of fishes putrified seem to be of the same nature with
shining wood: and it is true, that all putrefaction
hath with it an inward motion, as well as fire or light.
The trial sorted thus : i. The shining is in some
pieces more bright, in some more dim ; but the most
bright of all doth not attain to the light of a glow-
worm. 2. The woods that have been tried to shine,

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 371

are chiefly sallow and willow ; also the ash and hazle ;
it may be it holdeth in others, i 3. Both roots and
bodies do shine, but the roots better. 4. The colour
of the shining part, by day-light, is in some pieces
white, in some pieces inclining to red ; which in the
country they call the white and red garnet. 5. The
part that shineth is, for the most part, somewhat soft,
and moist to feel to ; but some was found to be firm
and hard, so as it might be figured into a cross, or into
beads, etc. But you must not look to have an image,
or the like, in any thing that is lightsome, for even a
face in iron red-hot will not be seen, the light con-
founding the small differences of lightsome and dark-
some, which shew the figure. 6. There was the
shining part pared off, till you came to that that did
not shine ; but within two days the part contiguous
began also to shine, being laid abroad in the dew;
so as it seemeth the putrefaction spreadeth. 7. There
was other dead wood of like kind that was laid
abroad, which shined not at the first ; but after a
njght's lying abroad began to shine. 8. There was
other wood that did first shine ; and being laid dry in
the house, within five or six days lost the shining; and
laid abroad again, recovered the shining. 9. Shining
woods being laid in a dry room, within a seven-night
lost their shining ; but being laid in a cellar, or dark
room, kept the shining. 10. The boring of holes in
that kind of wood, and then laying it abroad, seemeth
to conduce to make it shine : the cause is, for that
all solution of continuity doth help on -putrefaction,
as was touched before. 11. No wood hath been yet
tried to shine, that was cut down alive, but such as
was rotted both in stock and root while it grew.
12. Part of the wood that shined was steeped in oil,
and retained the shining a fortnight, 13. The like
succeeded in some steeped in water, and much
better. 14. How long the shining will continue, if
the wood be laid abroad every night, and taken in
and sprinkled with water in the day, is not yet tried.
15. Trial was made of laying it abroad in frosty
weather, which hurt it not. 16'. There was a great

372 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

.piece of a root which did shine, and the shining part
was cut off till no more shined ; yet after two nights,
though it were kept in a dry room, it got a shining.

'Experiment solitary touching the acceleration of birth.

353. THE bringing forth of living creatures may
be accelerated in two respects : the one, if the em-
bryo ripeneth and perfecteth sooner: the other, if
there be some cause from the mother's body, of ex-
pulsion or putting it down : whereof the former is
good, and argueth strength ; the latter is ill, and
cometh by accident or disease. And therefore the
ancient observation is true, that the child born in the
seventh month doth commonly well; but born in
the eighth month, doth for the most part die. But the
cause assigned is fabulous ; which is, that in the
eighth month should be the return of the reign of the
planet Saturn, which, as they say, is a planet malign;
whereas in the seventh is the reign of the moon,
which is a planet propitious. But the true cause is,
for that where there is so great a prevention of the
ordinary time, it is the lustiness of the child ; but
when it is Jess, it is some indisposition of the mother.

Experiment solitary touching the acceleration of growth
and stature.

354. To accelerate growth or stature, it must pro-
ceed either from the plenty of the nourishment; or
from the nature of the nourishment ; or from the
quickening and exciting of the natural heat. For
the first, excess of nourishment is hurtful ; for it
maketh the child corpulent ; and growing in breadth
rather then in heighth. And you may take an ex-
periment from plants, which if they spread much are
seldom tall. As for the nature of the nourishment;
first, it may not be' too dry, and therefore children in
dairy countries do wax more tall, than where they
feed more upon bread and ilesh. There is also a
received tale ; that boiling of daisy roots in milk,
which it is certain are great driers, will make dogs
little. But so much is true, that an over-dry nourish-

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 373

ment in childhood putteth back stature. Secondly,
the nourishment must be of an opening nature ; for
that attenuated! the juice, and furthereth the motion
of the spirfts upwards. Neither is it without cause,
that Xenophon, in the nurture of the Persian chil-
dren, doth so much commend their feeding upon car-
damon ; which, he saith, made them grow better,
and be of a more active habit. Cardamon is in latin
nasturtium ; and with us water-cresses ; which, it is
certain, is an herb, that whilst it is young, is friendly
to life. As for the quickening of natural heat, it
must be done chiefly with exercise; and therefore no
doubt much going to school, where they sit so much,
hinclereth the growth of children ; whereas country
people that go not to school, are commonly of better
stature. And again men must beware how they
give children any thing that is cold in operation ; for
even long sucking doth hinder both wit and stature.
This hath been tried, that a whelp that hath been
fed with nitre in milk, hath become very little, but
extreme lively : for the spirit of nitre is cold. And
though it be an excellent medicine in strength of
years for prolongation of life ; yet it is in children
and young creatures an enemy to growth : and all for
the same reason ; for heat is requisite to growth ;
but after a man is come to his middle age, heat
consumeth the spirits ; which the coldness of the
spirit of nitre doth help to condense and correct.

Experiments in consort touching sulphur and mercury 3
two of Paracelsus' s principles.

THERE be two great families of things; you may
term them by several names ; sulphureous and mer-
curial, which are the chemists words, for as for their
sal, which is their third principle, it is a compound
of the other two ; inflammable and not inflammable;
mature and crude ; oily and watery. For we see that
in subterranies there are, as the fathers of their tribes,
brimstone and mercury ; in vegetables and living
creatures there is water and oil : in the inferior order
of pneumaticals there is air and rlarae j and in the

VOL. i. B B

374 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

superior there is the body of the star and the pure sky.
And these pairs, though they be unlike in the primi-
tive differences of matter, yet they seem to have many
consents : for mercury and sulphur are principal ma-
terials of metals; water and oil are principal materials
of vegetables and animals ; and seem to differ but in
maturation or concoction : flame, in vulgar opinion,,
is but air incensed ; and they both have quickness of
motion, and facility of cession, much alike: and the
interstellar sky, though the opinion be vain that
the star is the denser part of his orb, hath notwith-
standing so much affinity with the star, that there is a
rotation of that, as well as of the star. Therefore
it is one of the greatest magnalia nature, to turn
water or watery juice into oil or oily juice: greater
in nature, than to turn silver or quicksilver into gold.

355. THE instances we have wherein crude and
watery substance turneth into fat and oily, are of four
kinds. First in the mixture of earth and water;
which mingled by the help of the sun gather a nitrous
fatness, more than either of them have severally ; as
we see in that they put forth plants, which need
both juices.

356. THE second is in the assimilation of nourish-
ment, made in the bodies of plants and living crea-
tures; whereof plants turn the juice of mere water
and earth into a great deal of oily matter : living
creatures, though much of their fat and flesh are out
of oily aliments, as meat and bread, yet they assimi-
late also in a measure their drink of water, etc. But
these two ways of version of water into oil, namely,
by mixture and by assimilation, are by many passages
and percolations, and by long continuance of soft
heats, and by circuits of time.

357. THE third is in the inception of putrefaction ;
as in water corrupted ; and the mothers of waters
distilled; both which have a kind of fatness or oil.

358. THE fourth is in the dulceration of some
metals; as saccharum Satumi, etc.

359. THE intention of version of water into a more
pily substance is by digestion ; for oil is almost no-

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 375

thing else but water digested ; and this digestion is
principally by heat ; which heat must be either out-
ward or inward : again, it may be by provocation or
excitation ; which is caused by the mingling of bodies
already oily or digested ; for they will somewhat
communicate their nature with the rest. Digestion
also is strongly effected by direct assimilation of
bodies crude into bodies digested ; as in plants and
living creatures, whose nourishment is far more crude
than their bodies: but this digestion is by a great
compass, as hath been said. As for the more full,
handling of these two principles, whereof this is but"
a taste, the inquiry of which is one of the profound-
est inquiries of nature, we leave it to the title of
version of bodies; and likewise to the title of the
first congregations of matter ; which, like a general
assembly of estates, doth give law to all bodies.

Experiment solitary touching chameleons.

360. A chameleon is a creature about the bigness
of an ordinary lizard: his head unproportionably big:
his eyes great : he moveth his head without the
writhing of his neck, which is inflexible, as a hog
doth : his back crooked ; his skin spotted with little
•tumours, less eminent nearer the belly; his tail slender
and long: on each foot he hath five fingers; three on
the outside, and two on the inside ; his tongue of a
marvellous length in respect of his body, and hollow
at the end ; which he will launch out to prey upon
flies. Of colour green, and of a dusky yellow, brighter
and whiter towards the belly ; yet spotted with blue,
white and red. If he be laid upon green, the green
predominated; if upon yellow, the yellow; not so
if he be laid upon blue, or red, or white ; only the
green spots receive a more orient lustre ; laid upon
black, he looketh all black, though not without a
mixture of green. He feedeth riot only upon air,,
though that be his principal sustenance, for some-
times he taketh flies, as was said; yet some that
have kept chameleons a whole year together, could
never perceive that ever they fed upon any thing else

B B'2

376 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

but air ; and might observe their bellies to swell
after they had exhausted the air, and closed their
jaws ; which they open commonly against the rays
of the sun. They have a foolish tradition in magic,
that if a chameleon be burnt upon the top of an
house, it will raise a tempest; supposing, according
to their vain dreams of sympathies, because he nourish-
eth with air, his body should have great virtue to
make impression upon the air.

Experiment solitary touching subterraneous tfires.

361. IT is reported by one of the ancients, that in
part of Media there are eruptions of flames out of
plains ; and that those flames are clear, and cast not
forth such smoke, and ashes, and pumice, as mountain
flames do. The reason, no doubt, is because the
flame is not pent as it is in mountains and earthquakes
which cast flame. There be also some blind fires
under stone, which flame not out, but oil being
poured upon them they flame out. The cause where-
of is, for that it seemeth the fire is so choked, as not
able to remove the stone, it is heat rather than flame ;
which nevertheless is sufficient to inflame the oil.

Experiment solitary touching nitre.

362. IT is reported, that in some lakes the water
is so nitrous, as, if foul clothes be put into it, it
scoureth them of itself: and if they stay any whit
long, they moulder away. And the scouring virtue
of nitre is the more to be noted, because it is a body
cold ; and we see warm water scoureth better than
cold. But the cause is, for that it hath a. subtle
spirit, which severeth and divideth any thing that is
foul and viscous, and sticketh upon a body.

Experiment solitary touching congealhig of air.

363. TAKE a bladder, the greatest you can get ;
fill it full of wind, and tie it about the neck with a silk
thread wraxed ; and upon that put likewise wax very
close ; so that when the neck of the bladder drieth,
no air may possibly get in or out. Then bury it

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 377

three or four foot under the earth in a vault, or in a
conservatory of snow, the snow being made hollow
about the bladder ; and after a fortnight's distance,
see whether the bladder be shrunk ; for if it be, then
it is plain that the coldness of the earth or snow hath
condensed the air, and brought it a degree nearer to
water: which is an experiment of great consequence.

Experiment solitary touching congealing of water into

crystal.

36-t. IT is a report of some good credit, that in
deep caves there are pensile crystals, and degrees of
crystal that drop from above ; and in some other,
though more rarely, that rise from below: Which
though it be chiefly the work of cold, yet it may be
that water that passeth through the earth, gathereth
a nature more clammy, and fitter to congeal and be-
come solid than water of itself. Therefore trial should
be made, to lay a heap of earth, in great frosts, upon
a hollow vessel, putting a canvas between, that it
falleth not in : and pour water upon it, in such quan-
tity as will be sure to soak through; and see whether
it will not make an harder ice in the bottom of the
vessel, and less apt to dissolve than ordinarily. I sup-
pose also, that if you make the earth narrower at the
bottom than at the top, in fashion of a sugar-loaf re-
versed, it will help the experiment. For it will make
the ice, where it issueth, less in bulk \ and evermore
smallness of quantity is a help to version,

Experiment solitary touching preserving of rose-leaves
both in colour and smell.

365. TAKE damask roses, and pull them ; then dry
them upon the top of an house, upon a lead or terras,
in the hot sun, in a clear day, between the hours only
of twelve and two, or thereabouts. Then put them
into a sweet dry earthen bottle or glass, with a nar-
row mouth, stuffing them close together, but without
bruising: stop the bottle .or glass close, and these
roses will retain not only their smell perfect, but their
colour fresh for a year at least. Note, that nothing doth

S78 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

so much destroy any plant, or other body, either by
putrefaction or arefaction, as the adventitious moisture
which hangeth loose in the body, if it be not drawn
out. For it betrayeth and tolleth forth the innate and
radical moisture along with it when itself goeth forth.
And therefore in living creatures, moderate sweat doth
preserve the juice of the body. Note, that these roses,
when you take them from the drying, have little or no
smell; so that the smell is a second smell, that issueth
out of the flower afterwards.

Experiments in consort touching the continuance of

flame.

366. THE continuance of flame, according to the
diversity of the body inflamed, and other circum-
stances, is worthy the inquiry; chiefly, for that
though flame be almost of a momentary lasting, yet
it receiveth the more, and the less: we will first
therefore speak at large of bodies inflamed wholly
and immediately, without any wick to help the in-
flammation. A spoonful of spirit of wine, a little
heated, was taken, and it burnt as long as came to
a hundred and sixteen pulses. The same quantity of
spirit of wine, mixed with the sixth part of a spoon-
ful of nitre, burnt but to the space of ninety four
pulses. Mixed with the like quantity of bay-salt,
eighty three pulses. Mixed with the like quantity of
gunpowder, which dissolved into a black water, one
hundred and ten pulses. A cube or pellet of yellow
wax was taken, as much as half the spirit of wine,
and set in the midst, and it burnt only the space of
eighty seven pulses. Mixed with the sixth part of
a spoonful of milk, it burnt to the space of one hun-
dred pulses; and the milk was curdled. Mixed with
the sixth part of a spoonful of water, it burnt to the
space of eighty six pulses; with an equal quantity of
water, only to the space of four pulses. A small
pebble was laid in the midst, and the spirit of wine
burnt to the space of ninety four pulses. A piece
of wood of the bigness of an arrow, and about a
finger's length, was set up in the. midst, and the

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 379

spirit of wine burrrt to the space-of ninety four pulses.
So that the spirit of wine simple endured the longest;
7and the spirit of wine with the bay-salt, and the equal
quantity of water, were the shortest.

367. CONSIDER well, whether the more speedy go-
ing forth of the flame be caused by the greater vigour
of the flame in burning; or by the resistance of the
body mixed,, and the aversion thereof to take flame :
which will appear by the quantity of the spirit of
wine that remaineth after the going out of the flame.
And it seemeth clearly to be the latter; for that the
mixture of things least apt to burn, is the speediest in
going out. And note, by the way, that spirit of
wine burned, till it go out of itself, will burn no
more; and tasteth nothing so hot in the mouth as it
did ; no, nor yet sour, as if it were a degree towards
vinegar, which burnt wine doth; but flat and dead.

368. NOTE, that in the experiment of wax afore-
said, the wax dissolved in the burning, and yet did
not incorporate itself with the spirit of wine, to pro-
duce one flame ; but wheresoever the wax floated,
the flame forsook it, till at last it spread all over, and
put the flame quite out.

369. THE experiments of the mixtures of the spirit
of wine inflamed, are things of discovery, and not of
use: but now we will speak of the continuance of
flames, such as are used for candles, lamps, or tapers;
consisting of inflammable matters, and of a wick
that provoketh inflammation. And this importeth not
only discovery, but also use and profit: for it is a
great saving in all such lights, if they can be made
as fair and bright as others, and yet last longer.
Wax pure made into a candle, and wax mixed se-
verally into candle stuff, with the particulars that fol-
low; viz. water, aqua vitte, milk, bay-salt, oil, butter,
nitre, brimstone, saw-dust, every of these bearing
a sixth part to the wax ; and every of these candles
mixed, being of the same weight and wick with the
wax pure, proved thus in the burning and lasting.
The swiftest in consuming was that with saw-dust;
which first burned fair till some, part of the candle

380 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

was consumed, and the dust gathered about the snuff;
but then it made the snuff big and long, and to burn
duskishly, and the candle wasted ih half the time of
the wax pure. The next in swiftness were the oil
and butter, which consumed by a fifth part swifter
than the pure wax. Then followed in swiftness the
clear wax itself. Then the bay-salt, which lasted about
an eighth part longer than the clear wax. Then fol-
lowed the aqua vittf) which lasted about a fifth part
longer than the clear wax. Then followed the milk
and water, with little difference from the aqua vitte>
but the water slowest. And in these four last, the
wick would spit forth little sparks. For the nitre, it
would not hold lighted above some twelve pulses : but
all the while it would spij out portions of flame,
which afterwards would go out into a vapour. For
the brimstone, it would hold lighted much about the
same time with the nitre; but then after a little while
it would harden and cake about the snuff; so that
the mixture of bay-salt with wax will win an eighth
part of the time of lasting, and the water a fifth.

370. AFTER the several materials were tried, trial
was likewise made of several wicks-, as of ordinary
cotton, sewing thread, rush, silk, straw, and wood.
The silk, straw, and wood, would flame a little, till
they came to the wax, and then go out : of the other
three, the thread consumed faster than the cotton by a
sixth part of time : the cotton next ; then the rush con-
sumed slower than the cotton, by at least a third part
ot time. For the bigness of the flame, the cotton
and thread cast a flame much alike ; and the rush
much less and dimmer. Query, whether the wood
and wicks both, as in torches, consume taster than
the wicks simple ?

371. WE have spoken of the several materials, and
the several wicks : but to the lasting of the flame it
importeth also, not only what the material is, but in
the same material whether it be hard, soft, old, new,
etc. Good housewives, to make their candles burn
the longer, used to lay them, one by one, in bran or
flour, which make them harder, and so they consume

Cent. IV.]

Natural History.

381

the slower: insomuch as by this means they will out-
last other candles of the same stuff almost half in
half. For bran and flour have a virtue to harden ;
so that both age, and lying in the bran, doth help to
the lasting. And we see that wax candles last longer
than tallow candles, because wax is more firm and
hard.

372. THE lasting of flame also dependeth upon the
jasy drawing of the nourishment ; as we see in the
Jourt of England, there is a service which they call
Allnight; which is as it were a great cake of wax,
with the wick in the midst ; whereby it cometh to

>ass, that the wick fetcheth the nourishment farther
off. We see also that lamps last longer, because the
vessel is far broader than the breadth of a taper or
candle.

373. TAKE a turretted lamp of tin, made in the
Form of a square; the height of the turret being thrice
LS much as the length of the lower part whereupon
'ie lamp standeth : make only one hole in it, at the
:nd of the return farthest from the turret. Reverse
t, and fill it full of oil by that hole; and then set it
ipright again ; and put a wick in at the hole, and

lighten it : you shall find that it will burn slow, and
long time : which is caused, as was said last before,
for that the flame fetcheth the nourishment afar off.

fou shall find also, that as the oil wasteth and de-
:endeth, so the top of the turret by little and little

illeth with air; which is caused by the rarefaction
of the oil by the heat. It were worthy the observa-
tion, to make a hole in the top of the turret, and to
try when the oil is almost consumed, whether the air
made of the oil, if you put to it a flame of a candle,
in the letting of it forth, will inflame. It were good
also to have the lamp made, not of tin, but of glass, that
you may see how the vapour or air gathereth by de-
grees in the top.

374. A FOURTH point that importeth the lasting of
:he flame, is the closeness of the air wherein the flame
jurneth. We see, that if wind bloweth upon a can-
dle, it wasteth apace. We see also, it lasteth longer

382 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

in a lanthorn than at large. And there are traditions
of lamps and candles, that have burnt a very long
time in caves and tombs.

375. A FIFTH point that importeth the lasting of
the flame, is the nature of the air where the flame
burneth; whether it be hot or cold, moist or dry.
The air, if it be very cold, irritateth the flame, and
maketh it burn more fiercely, as fire scorcheth in
frosty weather, and so furthereth the consumption.
The air once heated, I conceive, maketh the flame
burn more mildly, and so helpeth the continuance.
The air, if it be dry, is indifferent : the air, if it be moist,
doth in a degree quench the flame, as we see lights
will go out in the damps of mines, and howsoever
maketh it burn more dully, and so helpeth the conti-
nuance.

Experiments in consort touching burials or infusions of
divers bodies in earth.

376. BURIALS in earth serve for preservation ; and
for condensation ; and for induration of bodies. And
if you intend condensation or induration, you may
bury the bodies so as earth may touch them : as' if you
will make artificial porcellane, etc. And the like you
may do for conservation, if the bodies be hard and
solid ; as clay, wood, etc. But if you intend preser-
vation of bodies more soft and tender, then you must
do one of these two : either you must put them in
cases, whereby they may not touch the earth ; or else
you must vault the earth, whereby it may hang over
them, and not touch them : for if the earth touch
them, it will do more hurt by the moisture, causing
them to putrify, than good by the virtual cold, to
conserve them 3 except the earth be very dry and
sandy.

377. AN orange, lemon, and apple, wrapt in a
linen cloth, being buried for a fortnight's space four
feet deep within the earth, though it were in a moist
place and a rainy time, yet came forth no ways mouldy
or rotten, but were become a little harder than they
were ; otherwise fresh in their colour; hut their juice

Cent. IV

;nt. IV.] Natural History, 383

somewhat flatted. But with the burial of a fortnight
more they became putrified.

378. A BOTTLE of beer, buried in like manner as
before, became more lively, better tasted, and clearer
than it was. And a bottle of wine in like manner.
A bottle of vinegar so buried came forth more lively
and more odoriferous, smelling almost like a violet.
And after the whole month's burial, all the three came
forth as fresh and lively, if not better than before.

379. IT were a profitable experiment, to preserve
oranges, lemons, and pomegranates, till summer;
for then their price will be mightily increased.
This may be done, if you put them in a pot or vessel
well covered, that the moisture of the earth come not
at them ; or else by putting them in a conservatory
of snow. And generally, whosoever will make ex-
periments of cold, let him be provided of three things;
a conservatory of snow ; a good large vault, twenty
feet at least under the ground ; and a deep well.

380. THERE hath been a tradition, that pearl and
coral, and turquois-stone, that have lost their colours,
may be recovered by burying in the earth: which is
a thing of great profit, if it would sort : but upon trial
of six weeks burial, there followed no effect. It were
good to try it in a deep well, or in a conservatory of
snow ; where the cold may be more constringent ;
and so make the body more united, and thereby more
resplendent.

Experiment solitary touching the affects in men's
bodies from several winds.

381. Men's bodies are heavier, and less disposed
to motion, when southern winds blow, than when
northern. The cause is, for that when the southern
winds blow, the humours do, in some degree, melt
and wax fluid, and so flow into the parts; as it is seen
in wood and other bodies, which, when the southern
"winds blow, do swell. Besides, the motion and ac-
tivity of the body consisteth chiefly in the sinews,
which, when the southern wind bloweth, are more
relax.

384 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

Experiment solitary touching winter and summer
sicknesses.

382. IT is commonly seen, that more are sick in
the summer, and more die in the winter; except it
be in pestilent diseases, which commonly reign in
summer or autumn. The reason is, because diseases
are bred, indeed, chiefly by heat ; but then they are
cured most by sweat and purge ; which in the sum-
mer cometh on or is provoked more easily. As for
pestilent diseases, the reason why most die of them
in summer is, because they are bred most in the sum-
mer; for otherwise those that are touched are in most
danger in the winter.

Experiment solitary touching pestilential seasons.

383. THE general opinion is, that years hot and
moist are most pestilent ; upon the superficial ground
that heat and moisture cause putrefaction. In Eng-
land it is not found true ; for many times there have
been great plagues in dry years. Whereof the cause
may be, for that drought in the bodies of islanders ha-
bituated to moist airs, doth exasperate the humours,
and maketh them more apt to putrify or inflame : be-
sides, it tainteth the waters, commonly, and maketh
them less wholesome. And again in Barbary, the
plagues break up in the summer months, when the
weather is hot and dry.

Experiment solitary touching an error received about
epidemical diseases.

384. MANY diseases, both epidemical and others,
break forth at particular times. And the cause is
falsely imputed to the constitution of the air at that
time when they break forth or reign ; whereas it pro-
ceedeth, indeed, from a precedent sequence and se-
ries of the seasons of the year : and therefore Hippo-
crates in his prognostics doth make good observations
of the diseases that ensue upon the nature of the pre-
cedent four seasons of the year.

Cent.

nt. IV.] Natural History. S83

Experiment solitary touching the alteration or preserva-
tion of liquors in wells or deep vaults.

385. TRIAL hath been made with earthen bottles
well stopped, hanged in a well of twenty fathom
deep at the least ; and some of the bottles have been
let down into the water, some others have hanged
above, within about a fathom of the water ; and the
liquors so tried have been beer, not new, but ready
for drinking, and wine, and milk. The proof hath been,
that both the beer and the wine, as well within wa-
ter as above, have not been palled or deadened at all ;
but as good or somewhat better than bottles of the
same drinks and staleness kept in a cellar. But those
which did hang above water were apparently the
best ; and that beer did flower a little ; whereas that
under water did not, though it were fresh. The
milk soured and began to putrify. Nevertheless it is
true, that there is a village near Blois, where in deep
caves they do thicken milk, in such sort that it be-
cometh very pleasant : which was some cause of this
trial of hanging milk in the well: but our proof was
naught ; neither do I know whether that milk in
those caves be first boiled. In were good therefore
to try it with milk sodden, and with cream ; for that
milk of itself is such a compound body, of cream,
curds, and whey, as it is easily turned and dissolved.
It were good also to try the beer when it is in wort,
that it may be seen whether the hanging in the well
will accelerate the ripening and clarifying of it.

Experiment solitary touching stuttering.

386. DIVERS we see do stutter. The cause may
be, in most, the refrigeration of the tongue ; whereby
it is less apt to move. And therefore we see that natu-
rals do generally stutter : and we see that in those
that stutter, if they drink wine moderately, they stut-
ter less, because it heateth : and so we see, that they
that stutter do stutter more in the first offer to speak
than in continuance ; because the tongue is by mo-
tion somewhat heated." In some also, it may be,
though rarely, the dryness of the tongue; which like-
wise maketh it less apt to move as well as cold : for

386 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

it is an effect that cometh to some wise and great
men ; as it did unto Moses, who was liugiue prxpe-
ditiC ; and many stutterers, we find, are very choleric
men; choler inducing a dryness in the tongue.

Experiments in consort touching smells.

387. SMELLS and other odours are sweeter in the
air at some distance, than near the nose; as hath been
partly touched heretofore. The cause is double:
first, tlrc finer mixture or incorporation of the smell:
for we see that in sounds likewise, they are sweetest
when we cannot hear every part by itself. The other
reason is, for that all sweet smells have joined with
them some earthy or crude odours; and at some dis-
tance the sweet, which is the more spiritual, is per-
ceived, and the earthy reacheth not so far.

388. SWEET smells are most forcible in dry sub-
stances when they are broken ; and so likewise in
oranges or lemons, the nipping of their rind giveth
out their smell more ; and generally when bodies are
moved or stirred, though not broken, they smell more ;
as a sweet bag waved. The cause is double : the one,
for that there is a greater emission of the spirit when
way is made; and this holdeth in the breaking, nip-
ping, or crushing ; it holdeth also, in some degree, in
the moving : but in this last there is a concurrence of
the second cause; which is the impulsion of the air,
that bringeth the scent faster upon us.

389. THE daintiest smells of flowers are out of
those plants whose leaves smell not ; as violets, roses,
wall-flowers, gilly-flowers, pinks, woodbines, vine-
flowers, apple-blooms, limetree-blooms, bean-blooms,
etc. The cause is, for that where there is heat and-
strength enough in the plant to make the leaves odo-
rate, there the smell of the flower is rather evanidand
weaker than that of the leaves ; as it is in rosemary
flowers, lavender-flowers, and sweet-briar roses. But
where there is less heat, there the spirit of the plant
is digested and refined and severed from the grosser
juice, in the efflorescence, and not before.

390. MOST odours smell best broken or crushed, as
hath been said ; but flowers pressed or beaten do lose

» the freshness and sweetness of their odour. The

Cent. IV.] Natural History. 28'

cause is, for that when they are crushed, the grosser
and more earthy spirit cometh out with the finer, and
troubleth it ; whereas in stronger odours there are no
such degrees of the issue of the smell.

Experiments in consort touching the goodness and choice

of water.

391. IT is a thing of very good use to discover
the goodness of waters. The taste, to those thai
drink water only, doth somewhat: but other experi-
ments are more sure. First, try waters by weight;
wherein you may find some difference, though not
much : and the lighter you may account the better.

392. SECONDLY, try them by boiling upon an
equal fire ; and that which consumeth away fastest,
you may account the best.

393. THIRDLY, try them in several bottles or open
vessels, matches in every thing else, and see which of
them last longest without stench or corruption. And
[hat which holdeth unputrified longest, you may
likewise account the best.

394. FOURTHLY, try them by making drinks
stronger or smaller, with 'the same quantity of malt ;
and you may conclude, that that water which maketh
the stronger drink, is the more concocted and nou-
rishing ; though perhaps it be not so good for medi-
cinal use. And such water, commonly, is the water
of large and navigable rivers 3 and likewise in large
and clean ponds of standing water; for upon both
them the sun hath more power than upon fountains
or small rivers. And I conceive that chalk-water is .
next them the best for going farthest in drink :
for that also helpeth concoction; so it be out of u
deep well ; for then it cureth the rawness of the wa-
ter; but chalky water, towards the top of the earth,
is too fretting ; as it appeareth in laundry of cloths,
which wear out apace if you use such waters.

395. FIFTHLY, the housewives do find a difference
in waters, for the bearing or not bearing of soap : and
it is likely that the more fat water will bear'soap best;
for the hungry water doth kill the unctuous nature of
the soap.

388 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

396. SIXTHLY, you may make a judgment of wa-
ters according to the place whence they spring or
come : the rain-water is, by the physicians, esteemed
the finest and the best; but yet it is said to putrify
soonest; which is likely, because of the fineness of
the spirit: and in conservatories of rain-water, such
as they have in Venice, etc. they are found not so
choice waters ; the worse, perhaps, because they are
covered aloft, and kept from the sun. Snow-water is
held unwholsome ; insomuch as the people that dwell
at the foot of the snow mountains, or otherwise upon
the ascent, especially the women, by drinking of
snow-water, have great bags hanging under their
throats. Well-water, except it be upon chalk, or a
very plentiful spring, maketh meat red ; which is an
ill sign. Springs on the tops of high hills are the best :
for both they seem to have a lightness and appetite of
mounting ; and besides, they are most pure and un-
mingled ; and again, are more percolated through a
great space of earth. For waters in valleys join, in
effect, under ground, with all waters of the same
level ; whereas springs on the tops of hills pass
through a great deal of pure earth, with less mixture
of other waters. .

397. SEVENTHLY, judgment maybe made of waters
by the soil whereupon the water runneth ; as pebble
is the cleanest and best tasted, and next to that clay-
water; and thirdly, water upon chalk ; fourthly, that
upon sand; and worst of all upon mud. Neither may
you trust waters that taste sweet; for they are com-
monly found in rising grounds of great cities, which
must needs take in a great deal of filth.

Experiment solitary touching the temperate heat under
the equinoctial.

398. IN Peru, and divers parts of the West Indies,
though under the line, the heats arc not so intolerable
as they be in Barbary, and the skirts of the torrid zone.
The causes are, first the great breezes which the mo-
tion of the air in great circles, such as are under the
girdle of the world, produceth ; which do refrige-

Cent. IV.] Natural History.

rate ; and therefore in those parts noon is nothing so
hot, when the breezes are great, as about nine or
ten of the clock in the forenoon. Another cause is,
for that the length of the night, and the dews thereof,
do compensate the heat of the day. A third cause is
the stay of the sun; not in respect of clay and night,
for that we spake of before, but in respect of the sea-
son; for under the line the sun crosseth the line, and
maketh two summers and two winters, but in the
skirts of the torrid zone it doubleth and goeth back
again, and so maketh one long summer.

3.99. THE heat of the sun maketh men black in
some countries, as in /Ethiopia and Guincy, etc. Fire
doth it not, as we see in glass-men, that are continu-
ally about the fire. The reason may be, because fire
doth lick up the spirits and blood of the body, so as
they exhale ; so that it ever maketh men look pale and
sallow ; but the sun, which is a gentler heat, doth
but draw the blood to the outward parts ; and rather
concocteth it than soaketh it ; and therefore we sec
that all /Ethiopes are fleshy and plump, and have
great lips ; all which betoken moisture retained, and
not drawn out. We see also, that the Negroes are
bred in countries that have plenty of water by rivers
or otherwise : for Meroe, which was the metropolis of
./Ethiopia, was upon a great lake ; and Congo, where
the Negroes are, is lull of rivers. And the confines
of the river Niger, where the Negroes also are, are
well watered : and the region above Cape Verde is
likewise moist, insomuch as it is pestilent through
moisture : but the countries of the Abyssenes, and
Barbary, and Peru, where they are tawny, and oliv-
aster, and pale, are generally more sandy and dry.
As for the ,/Ethiopes, as they are plump and fleshy,
so, it .may be, they are sanguine and ruddy-coloured,
if their black skin would suffer it to be seen.

Experiment solitary touching motion after the instant
of death.

400. SOME creatures do move a good while after
their head is off; as birds : some a very little time $
VOL. i. c c

3 96 Natural History. [Cent. IV.

as men and all beasts : some move, though cut in se-
veral pieces ; as snakes, eels, worms, flies, etc. First
therefore it is certain, that the immediate cause of
death is the resolution or extinguishment of the spi-
rits ; and that the destruction or corruption of the
organs is but the mediate cause. But some organs are
so peremptorily necessary, that the extinguishment of
the spirits doth speedily follow ; but yet so as there is
an interim of a small time. It is reported by one of
the ancients of credit, that a sacrificed beast hath
lowed after the heart hath been severed ; and it is
a report also of credit, that the head of a pig hath
been opened, and the brain put into the palm of a
man's hand, trembling, without breaking any part of
it, or severing it from the marrow of the back-bone ;
during which time the pig hath been, in all appear-
ance, stark dead, and without motion ; and after a
small time the brain hath been replaced, and the skull
of the pig closed, and the pig hath a little after gone
about. And certain it is, that an eye upon revenge
hath been thrust forth, so as it hanged a pretty dis-
tance by the visual nerve ; and during that time the
eve hath been without any power of sight ; and yet
after being replaced recovered sight. Now the spi-
rits are chiefly in the head and cells of the brain,
which in men and beasts are large; and therefore,
when the head is off, they move little or nothing.
But birds have small heads, and therefore the spirits
are a little more dispersed in the sinews, whereby
motion remaineth in them a little longer ; insomuch,
as it is extant in story, that an emperor of Rome, to
shew the certainty of his hand, did shoot a great fork-
ed arrow at an ostrich, as she ran swiftly upon the
stage, and struck off her head ; and yet she continued
the race a little way with the head off. As for worms,
and flies, and eels, the spirits are diffused almost all
over; and therefore they move in their several
pieces,

[ 391 ]
NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY V.

Experiments in consort touching the acceleration of

germination.

WE will now inquire of plants, or vegetables : and
we shall do it with diligence. They are the principal
part of the third day's work.- They are the first pro-
ducat, which is the word of animation : for the other
words are but the words of essence. And they are of
excellent and general use for food, medicine,- and a
number of mechanical arts.

401. .THERE were sown in a bed, turnip-seed,
radish-seed, wheat, cucumber-seed, and peas. The
bed we call a hot-bed, and the manner of it is this:
there was taken horse-dung, old and well rotted ; this
was laid upon a bank half a foot high, and supported
round about with planks; and upon the top was cast
sifted earth, some two fingers deep; and then the
seed sprinkled upon it, having been steeped all night
in water mixed with cow-dung. The turnip-seed and
the wheat came up half an inch above ground within
two days after, without any watering. The rest the
third day. The experiment was made in October $
and, it may be, in the spring, the accelerating
would have been the speedier. This is a noble ex-
periment; for without this help' they would have
been four times as long in coming up. But there
doth not occur to me, at this present, any use thereof
for profit ; except it should be for sowing of peas,
which have their price very much increased by the
early coming. It may be tried also with cherries,
strawberries, and other fruit, which are dearest when
they come early.

402. THERE was wheat steeped in water mixed
with cow-dung 3 other in water mixed with horse-

cc 2

392 Natural History. fCenf. V,

dung; other in water mixed with pigeon dung; other
in urine of man ; other in water mixed with chalk
powdered ; other in water mixed with soot ; other in
water mixed with ashes ; other in water mixed with
bay-salt ; other in claret wine ; other in malmsey ;
other in spirit of wine. The proportion of the mix-
ture was a fourth part of the ingredients to the water ;
save that there was not of the salt above an eighth
part. The urine, and wines, and spirit of wine, were
simple without mixture of water. The time of the
steeping was twelve hours. The time of the year
October. There was also other wheat sown unsteep-
ed, but watered twice a day with warm water. There
was also other wheat sown simple, to compare it with
the rest. The event was ; that those that were in the
mixture of dung, and urine, and soot, chalk, ashes,
and salt, came up within six days : and those that
afterwards proved the highest, thickest, and most
lusty, wrere first the urine ; and then the dungs ; next
the chalk ; next the soot ; next the ashes ; next thfe salt ;
next the wheat simple of itself, unsteepecl and unwa-
tered ; next the watered twice a day with warm wa-
ter ; next the claret wine. So that these three last
were slower than the ordinary wheat of itself; and
this culture did rather retard than advance. As for
those that were steeped in malmsey, and spirit of
wine, they came not up at all. This is a rich expe-
riment for profit ; for the most of the steepings are
cheap things ; and the goodness of the crop is a
great matter of gain; if the goodness of the crop an-
swer the earliness of the coming up; as it is like it
will ; both being from the vigbur of the seed ; which
also partly appeared in the former experiments, as
hath been said. This experiment should be tried in
other grains, seeds, and kernels : for it may be some
steeping will agree best with some seeds. It should
be tried also with roots steeped as before, but for
longer time. It should be tried also in several seasons
of the year, especially the spring.

403. STRAWBERRIES watered now and then, as
once in three days, with water wherein hath been
steeped sheeps-dung or pigeons-dung, will prevent

int. V.] Natural ffiftpry. 333

and coine early. And it is like the same effect would
follow in other berries, herbs, flowers, grains, or trees.
And therefore it is an experiment, though vulgar in
strawberries, yet not brought into use generally : for
it is usual to help the ground with muck ; and likewise
to recomfort it sometimes with muck put to the roots;
but to water it with muck water, which is like to be
more forcible, is not practised.

404. DUNG, or chalk, or blood, applied in sub-
stance, seasonably, to the roots of trees, doth set them
forwards. But to do it unto herbs, without mixture
of water or earth, it may be these helps are too hot.

405. THE former means of helping germination,
are either by the goodness and strength of the nourish-
ment; or by the comforting an.d exciting the spirits
in the plant, to draw the nourishment better. And
of this latter kind, concerning the comforting of the
spirits of the plant, are also the experiments that fol-
low ; though they be not applications to the root or l
seed. The planting of trees warm upon a wall against
the south, or south-east sun, doth hasten their coming
on and ripening ; and the south-east is found to be
better than the south-west, though the south-west be
the hotter coast. But the cause is chiefly, for that the
heat of the morning succeedeth the cold of the night:
and partly, because many times the south-west sun is
too parching. So likewise the planting of them upon
the back of a chimney where a fire is kept, doth
hasten their coming on and ripening : nay more, the
drawing of the boughs into the inside of a room where

a fire is continually kept, worketh the same effect ;
which hath been tried with grapes; insomuch as they
will come a month earlier than the grapes abroad.

406. BESIDES the two means of accelerating ger-
mination formerly described ; that is to say, the
mending of the nourishment ; and comforting of the
spirit of the plant ; there is a third, which is the mak-
ing way for the easy coming to the nourishment, and
drawing it. And therefore gentle digging and loosen-
ing of the earth about the roots of trees; and the re-
moving herbs and flowers into new earth once in

394 Natural History. [Cent. V.

two years, which is the same thing, for the new earth
is ever looser, doth greatly further the prospering and
earliness of plants.

407. BUT the most admirable acceleration by fa-
cilitating the nourishment is that of water. For a
standard of a damask rose with the root on, was set
in a chamber where no fire was, upright in an earthen
pan, full of fair water, without any mixture, half a
foot under the water, the standard being more than
two foot high above the water: within the space of
ten days the standard did put forth a fair green leaf,
and some other little buds, which stood at a stay,
without any shew of decay or withering, more than
seven days. But afterwards that leaf faded, but
the young buds did sprout on ; which afterward
opened into fair leaves in the space of three months;
and continued so a while after, till upon removal we
left the trial, But note, that the leaves were some-
what paler and lighter-coloured than the leaves used
to be abroad. Note, that the first buds were in the
end of October ; and it is likely that if it had been in
the spring time, it would have put forth with greater
strength, and, it may be, to have grown on to bear
flowers. By this means you may have, as it seemeth,
roses set in the midst of a pool, being supported with
some stay; which is matter of rareness and pleasure,
though of small use. This is the more strange, for
that the like rose-standard was put at the same time
into water mixed with horse-dung, the horse-dung
about the fourth part to the water, and in four months
space, while it was observed, put not forth any leaf,
though divers buds at the first, as the other.

408. A DUTCH flower that had a bulbous root,
was likewise put at the same time all under water,
some two or three fingers deep; and within seven
days sprouted, and continued long after further grow-
ing. There were also put in, a beet-root ; a borage-
root, and a radish root, which had all their leaves cut
almost clo$e to the roots ; and within six weeks had fair
leaves; and so continued till the end of November.

409. NOTE, that if roots or peas, or flowers, may

Cent. V.] Natural History.

be accelerated In their coming and ripening, there is a
double profit; the one in the high price that those
things bear when they come early : the other in the
swiftness of their returns: for in some grounds which
are strong, you shall have a radish, etc. come in a
month, that in other grounds will not come in two,
and so make double returns.

410. WHEAT also was put into the water, and
came not forth at all; so as it seemeth there must be
some strength and bulk in the body put into the
water, as it is in roots ; for grains, or seeds, the cold
of the water will mortify. But casually some wheat
lay under the pan, which was somewhat moistened by
the, suing of the pan; which in six weeks, as afore-
said, looked mouldy to the eye, but it was sprouted
forth half a finger's length. :r

411. IT seemeth by these instances of water, that
for nourishment the water is almost all in all, and that
the earth doth but keep the plant upright, and save
it from over-heat and over-cold ; and therefore is a
comfortable experiment for good drinkers. It proveth
also that our former opinion, that drink incorporate
with flesh or roots, as in capon-beer, etc. will nourish
more easily, than meat and drink taken severally.

412. THE housing of plants, I conceive, will both
accelerate germination,, and bring forth flowers and
plants in the colder seasons: and as we house hot-
country plants, as lemons, oranges, myrtles, to save
them ; so we may house our own country plants, to
forward them, and make them come in the cold seasons^
in such sort, that you may have violets, strawberries,
peas, all winter : so that you sow or remove them
at fit times. This experiment is to be referred unto
the comforting of the spirit of the plant by warmth,
as well as housing their boughs, etc. So then the
means to accelerate germination, are in particular
eight, in general three.

Experiments in consort touching the putting back or re-
tardation of germination.

413. To make roses, or other flowers come late, it
is an experiment of pleasure. For the ancients

396 Natural History. [Cent. V.

esteemed much of rosa sera. And indeed the No-
vember rose is the sweetest, having been less exhaled
by the sun. The means are these. First, the cutting
off their tops immediately after they have done
bearing; and then they will come again the same
year about November : but they will not come just
on the tops where they were cut, but out of those
shoots which were, as it were, water boughs. The
cause is, for that the sap, which otherwise wpuld have
fed fhe top, though after bearing, will, by the dis-
charge of that, divert unto the side sprouts ; and they
will come to bear, but later.

414. THE second is the pulling off the buds of the
rose, when they are newly knotted ; for then the side
branches will bear. The cause is the same with the
former ; for cutting off the tops, and pulling off the
buds, work the same effect, in retention of the sap
for a time, and diversion qf it to the sprouts that
were not so forward.

415. THE third is the cutting off some few of the
top boughs in the spring time, but suffering the lower
boughs to grow on. The cause is, for that the boughs
do help to draw up the sap more strongly; and
we see that in polling of trees, many do use to leave
a bough or two on the top, to help to draw up the
sap. And it is reported also, that if you graft upon
the bough of a tree, and cut off some of the old
boughs, the new cions will perish.

416. THE fourth is by laying the roots bare about
Christmas some days. The cause is plain, for that it
doth arrest the sap from going upwards for a time ;
which arrest is afterwards released by the covering of
'the root again with earth ; and then the sap gettcth
up, but later.

417. THE fifth is the removing of the tree some
month before it buddeth. The cause is, for that some
time will be required after the remove for the re-
settling, before it can draw the juice; and that time
being lost, the blossom must needs come forth later.

418. THE sixth is the grafting of roses in May,
which commonly gardeners do not till July ; and then

turd History. 397

they bear not till the next year ; but if" you gral
them in May, they will bear the same year, but late.

419. THE seventh is the girding of the body of the
tree about with some pack-thread ; for that also in a
degree restraineth the sap, and maketh it come up
more late and more slowly.

420. THE eighth is the planting of them in a shade,
or in a hedge ; the cause is, partly the keeping out
ot the sun, which hasteneth the sap to rise ; and partly
the robbing of them of nourishment by the stuff in the
hedge. These means may be practised upon other,
both trees and flowers, mutatis mutandis.

421. MEN have entertained a conceit that sheweth
prettily; namely, that if you graft a late-coming fruit
upon a stock of a fruit-tree that cometh early, the
graft will bear fruit early; as a peach upon a cherry;
and contrariwise, if an early-coming fruit upon a stock.
of a fruit-tree that corneth late, the graft will bear
fruit late; as a cherry upon a peach. But these are
but imaginations, and untrue. The cause is, for that
the cion over-ruleth the stock quite ; and the stock is
but passive only, and giveth aliment, but no motion
to the graft.

Experiments in consort touching the melioration of fruits 9
trees i and plants.

WE will speak now,, how to make fruits, flowers,
and roots larger, in more plenty, and sweeter than
they use to be ; and how to make the trees themselves
mare tall, more spread, and more hasty and sudden
than they use to be. Wherein there is no doubt but the
former experiments of acceleration will serve much
to these purposes. And again, that these experiments,
which we shall now set down, do serve also for ac-
celeration, because both effects proceed from the in-
crease of vigour in the tree ; but yet to avoid con-
fusion, and because some of the means are more
proper for the one effect, and some for the other, we
will handle them apart.

422. IT is an assured experience, that an heap of
flint or stone, laid about the bottom of a wild tree,
as an oak, elm, ash, etc. upon the first planting, doth

39S • Natural History. [Cent; V.

make it prosper double as much as without it. The
cause is, for that it retaineth the moisture which
falleth at any time upon the tree, and suffereth it
not to be exhaled by the sun. Again, it keepeth
the tree warm from cold blasts and frosts, as it were
in an house. It may be also there is somewhat in
the keeping of it steady at the first. Query, If laying
of straw some height about the body of a tree, will
not make the tree forwards. For though the root
giveth the sap, yet it is the body that draweth it.
But you must note, that if you lay stones about the
stalk of lettuce, or other plants that are more soft,
it will over-moisten the roots, so as the worms will
eat them.

423. A TRIE, at the first setting, should not be
shaken, until it hath taken root fully : and therefore
•some have put two little forks about the bottom of
their trees to keep them upright ; but after a year's
rooting, then shaking doth the tree good, by loosening
of the earth, and, perhaps, by exercising as it were,
and stirring the sap of the tree.

4-24. GENERALLY the cutting away of boughs and
suckers at the root and body doth make trees grow
high; and contrariwise,, the polling and cutting of
the top maketh them grow spread and bushy. - As
we see in pollards, etc.

425. IT is reported, that to make hasty-growing
coppice woods, the way is, to take willow, sallow,
poplar, alder, of some seven years growth ; and to

k set them, not upright but aslope, a reasonable depth
under the ground ; and then instead of one root they
will put forth many, and so carry more shoots upon
a stem.

426. WHEN you would have many new roots of
fruit trees, take a low tree and bow it, and lay all his
branches aflat upon the ground, and cast earth upon
them j and every twig will take root. And this
is a very profitable experiment for costly trees, for
the boughs will make stocks without charge; such as
are apricots, peaches, almonds, cornelians, mulberries,
figs, etc. The like is continually practised with vines,
roses, musk-roses, etc.

^ent. V.] Natural History. 399

427. FROM May to July you may take off the
bark of any bough, being of the bigness of three or
four inches, and cover the bare place, somewhat
above and below, with loam well tempered with
horse-dung, binding it fast down. Then cut off the
bough about Allhollontide in the bare place, and set
it in the ground ; and it will grow to be a fair tree
in one year. The cause may be, for that the baring
from the bark keepeth the sap from descending
towards winter, and so holdeth it in the bough ; and
it may be also that the loam and horse-dung applied
to the bare place do moisten it, and cherish it, and
make it more apt to put forth the root. Note, that
this may be a general means for keeping up the sap
of trees in their boughs : which may serve to other
effects.

428. IT hath been practised in trees that shew fair
and bear not, to bore a hole through the heart of the
tree, and thereupon it will bear. Which may be, for
that the tree before had too much repletion, and was
oppressed with its own sap ; for repletion is an enemy
to generation.

429. IT hath been practised in trees that do not
bear, to cleave two or three of the chief roots, and to
put jnto the cleft a small pebble, which may keep
it open, and then it will bear. The cause may be,
for that a root of a tree may be, as it were, vhide-
bound, no less than the body of the tree ; but it will
not keep open without somewhat put into it.

430. IT is usually practised, to set trees that re-
quire much sun upon walls against the south ; as
apricots, peaches, plums, vines, figs, and the like.
It hath a double commodity ; the one, the heat of the
wall by reflexion; the other, the taking away of the
shade ; for when a tree gro\veth round, the upper
boughs over-shadow the lower : but when it is spread
upon a wall, the sun cometh alike upon the upper
and lower branches.

431. I r hath also been practised by some, to pull
off some leaves from the trees so spread, that the sun
may come upon the bough and fruit the better. Theve

400 Natural History. [Cent. V,

hath been practised also a curiosity, to set a tree upon
the north side of a wall, and at a little height to
draw it through the wall, and spread it upon the south
side : conceiving that the root and lower part of the
stock should enjoy the freshness of the shade ; and
the upper boughs, and fruit, the comfort of the sun. «
But it sorted not ; the cause is, for that the root re-
quireth some comfort from the sun, though under
earth, as well as the body : and the lower part of the
body more than the upper, as we see in compassing
a tree below with straw.

432. THE lowness of the bough where the fruit
cometh, maketh the fruit greater, and to ripen better ;
for you shall ever see, in apricots, peaches, or melo-
cotones upon a wall, the greatest fruits towards the
bottom. And in France, the grapes that make the
wine, grow upon low vines bound to small stakes ;
and the raised vines in arbours make but verjuice. It
is true, that in Italy and other countries where they
have hotter sun, they raise them upon elms and trees;
but 1 conceive, if the French manner of planting
low were brought in use there, their wines would be
stronger and sweeter. But it is more chargeable in
respect of the props. It were good to try whether
a tree grafted somewhat near the ground, and the
Jower boughs only maintained, and the higher con-
tinually pruned off, would not make a larger fruit.

433. To have fruit in greater plenty, the way is to
graft not only upon young stocks, but upon divers
boughs of an old tree ; for they will bear great num-
bers of fruit : whereas if you graft but upon one
stock, the tree can bear but few.

434. THE digging yearly about the roots of trees,
which is a great means both to the acceleration and
•melioration of fruits, is practised in nothing but in
yincs : which if it were transferred unto other trees
and shrubs, as roses, etc. I conceive would advance
them likewise.

435. IT hath been known, that a fruit tree hath
been blown up almost by the roots, and set up again,

the next year bear exceedingly. The cause of

Cent. V.] Nu fund History.

this was nothing but the loosening of the earth,
which comforteth any tree, and is fit to be practised
more than it is in fruit-trees : for trees cannot be so
fitly removed into new grounds, as flowers and herbs
may.

436. To revive an old tree, the digging of it about
the roots, and applying new mould to the roots, is the
way. We see also that draught-oxen put into fresh
pasture gather new and tender flesh ; and in all things
better nourishment than hath been used doth help to
renew ; especially if it be not only better, but changed
and differing from the former.

437. IF an herb be cut off from the roots in the
beginning of winter, and then the earth be trodden
and beaten down hard with the foot and spade, the
roots will become of very great magnitude in summer.
The reason is, for that the moisture being forbidden
to come up in the plant, stayeth longer in the root,
and so dilateth it. And gardeners use to tread down
any loose ground after they have sown onions, or tur-
nips, etc.

438. IF panicum be laid below and about the bot-
tom of a root, it will cause the root to grow to an ex-
cessive bigness. The cause is, for that being itself of
a spongy substance, it draweth the moisture of the
earth to it, and so feedeth the root. This is of
greatest use for onions, turnips, parsnips, and carrots.

439. THE shifting of ground is a means to better
the tree and fruit ; but with this caution, that all
things do prosper best when they are advanced to
the better : your nursery of stocks ought to be in a
more barren ground than the ground is whereunto you
remove them. So all grasiers prefer their cattle from
meaner pastures to better. We see also, that hard-
ness in youth lengtheneth life, because it leaveth a
cherishing to the better of the body in age : nay,
in exercises, it is good to begin with the hardest, as
dancing in thick shoes, etc.

440. IT hath been observed, that hacking of trees
in their bark, both downright and across, so as you
may make them rather -in slices than in continued

402 Xatural History. [Cent. V.

hacks, doth great good to trees; and especially deli-
vereth them from being hide-bound, and killeth their
moss.

44 1 . SHADE to some plants conduceth to make them
large and prosperous, more than sun ; as in strawber-
ries and bays, etc. Therefore among strawberries
sow here and there some borage seed ; and you shall
find the strawberries under those leaves far more
large than their fellows. And bays you must plant
to the north, or defend them from the sun by a hedge-
row; and when you sow the berries, weed not the
borders for the first half year; for the weed giveth
them shade.

442. To increase the crops of plants, there would
be considered not only the increasing the lust of the
earth, or of the plant, but the saving also of that
which is spilt. So they have lately made a trial to set
wheat ; which nevertheless hath been left off, because
of the trouble and pains : yet so much is true, that
there is much saved by the setting, in comparison of
that which is sown ; both ,by keeping it from being
picked up by birds, and by avoiding the shallow
lying of it, whereby much that is sown taketh no root.

443. IT is prescribed by some of the ancients, that
you take small trees, upon which figs or other fruit
grow, being yet unripe, and cover the trees in the
middle of autumn with dung until the spring; and
then take them up in a warm day, and repjant them
in good ground ; and by that means the former year's
tree will be ripe, as by a new birth, when other trees of
the same kind do but blossom. But this seemeth to
have no great probability.

444. IT is reported, that if you take nitre, and min-
gle it with water, to the thickness of honey, and
therewith anoint the bud after the vine is cut, it will
.sprout forth withm eight days. The cause is like to
be, if the experiment be true, the opening of the bud
and of the parts contiguous, by the spirit of the nitre ;
for nitre is, as it were, the life of vegetables,

445. TAKE seed, or kernels of appK-s, pears,
granges ; or a peach, or a plumstone, etc. and put

Cent. V.] Natural History.

them into a squill, which is like a great onion, and
they will come up much earlier than . in the earth it-
self. This I conceive to be as a kind of grafting in the
root ; for as the stock of a graft yieldeth better pre-
pared nourishment to the graft, than the crude earth ;
so the squill doth the like to the seed. . And I sup-
pose the same would be done, by putting kernels in-
to a turnip, or the like ; save that the squill is more
vigorous and hot. . It may by. tried also*, with putting
onion-seed into an onion-head, which thereby, per-
haps, will bring forth a. larger and earlier onion.

446. THE pricking of a fruit. in several places,
when it is almost at -i.ts bigness,, and. before it ripen-
eth, hath been practised with success, to ripen the
fruit more suddenly. We see the example of the
biting of wasps or worms upon fruit, whereby it ma-
nifestly, ripeneth the sooner.

447.. IT is reported, that alga marinay sea-weed, put
under the roots of coleworts, and, perhaps, of other
plants, will further their growth. The virtue, no doubt,
hath relation to salt; which is a great help to fertility.

448. IT hath been practised, to cut off the stalks of
cucumbers, immediately after their bearing, close by
the earth; and then to cast a pretty quantity of earth
upon the plant that remaineth, and they will bear the
next year fruit long before the ordinary time. The
cause may be, for that the sap goeth down the sooner,
and is not spent in the stalk or leaf, which remaineth
after the fruit. Where note, that the dying in the
winter of the roots of plants that are annual, seemeth
to be partly caused by the over-expence of the sap in-
to stalk and leaves ; which being prevented, they will
super-annuate, if they stand warm.

449. THE pulling off many of the blossoms from a
fruit-tree, doth make the fruit fairer, The cause is
manifest; for that the sap hath the less to nourish.
And it is a common experience, that it you do not pull
off some blossoms the first time a tree bloometh, it
will blossom jtself to death.

450. IT were good to try, what would be the effect,
if all the. blossoms were pulled from a fruit-tree 3 or

401 Natural History. [Cent. V.

the acorns and chesnut-buds, etc. from a wild tree,
for two years together. I suppose that the tree will
either put forth the third year bigger and more plen-
tiful fruit; or else, the same years, larger leaves, be-
cause of the sap stored up.

451. IT hath been generally received, that a plant
watered with warm water, will come up sooner and
better than with cold water or with showers. But
our experiment of watering wheat with warm water,
as hath been said, succeeded not; which may be, be-
cause the trial was too late in the year, namely, in the
end of October. For the cold then coming upon the
seed, after it was made more tender by the warm wa-
ter, might check it.

452. THERE is no doubt, but that the grafting, for
the most part, doth meliorate the fruit. The cause is
manifest ; for that the nourishment is better prepared
in the stock, than in the crude earth: but yet note
well, that there be some trees that are said to come
up more happily from the kernel than from the graft ;
as the peach and melocotone. The cause I suppose
to be, for that those plants require a nourishment of
great moisture ; and though the nourishment of the
stock be finer and better prepared, yet it is not so
moist and plentiful as the nourishment of the earth.
And indeed we sec those fruits are very cold fruits in
their nature.

453. IT hath been. received, that a smaller pear
grafted upon a stock that beareth a greater pear, will
become great. But I think it is as true as that of the
prime fruit upon the late stock ; and ecomerso; which
we rejected before : for the cion will govern. Neverthe-
less, it is probable enough, that if you can get a cion
to grow upon a stock of another kind, that is much
moister than its own stock, it may make the fruit
.greater, because it will yield more plentiful nourish-
ment ; though it is like it will make the fruit baser.
But generally the grafting is upon a drier stock ; as
the apple upon a crab ; the pear upon a thorn, etc.
Yet it is reported, that in the Low-Countries they
\viJl graft an apple cion uppn the stock of a colewort,

Cent. V.] .Natural History. 405

and it will bear a great flaggy apple ; the kernel of
which, if it be set, will be a colewort, and not an ap-
ple. It were good to try whether an apple cion will
prosper if it be grafted upon a sallow, or upon a pop-
lar, or upon an alder, or upon an elm, or upon an
horse-plum, which are the moistebt of trees. I have
heard that it hath been tried upon an elm, and suc-
ceeded.

454. IT is manifest by experience, that flowers re-
moved wax greater, because the nourishment is more
easily come by in the loose earth. It may be, that oft
regrafting of the same cion may likewise make fruit
greater; as if you take a cion, and graft it upon a
stock the first year; and then cut it off, and graft it
upon another stock the second year ; and so for a
third or fourth year ; and then let it rest, it will yield
afterward, when it beareth, the greater fruit.

Of grafting there are many experiments worth the
noting, but those we reserve to a proper place.

455. IT maketh figs better, if afig-tree, when it be-
ginneth to put forth leaves, have his top cut off. The
cause is plain, for that the sap hath the less to feed,
and the Jess way to mount : but it may be the fig will
come somewhat later, as was formerly touched. The
same may be. tried likewise in other trees.

456. IT is reported, that mulberries will be fairer,
and the trees more fruitful, if you bore the trunk of
the tree through in several places, and thrust into the
places bored wedges of some hot trees, as turpentine,
mastic-tree, guaiacum, juniper, etc. The cause may-
be, for that adventive heat doth chear up the native
juice of the tree.

457. IT is reported, that trees will grow greater,
and bear better fruit, if you put salt, or lees of wine,
or blood to the root. The cause may be the increas-
ing the lust or spirit of the root ; these things being
more forcible than ordinary composts.

458. JT is reported by one of the ancients, that ar-
tichokes will be less prickly, and more tender, if the
seeds have their tops dulled, or grated off upon a
Stone.

VOL. i. T> D

406 Natural History. [Cent. V.

459. HERBS will be tenderer and fairer, if you take
them out of beds, when they are newly come up, and
remove them into pots with better earth. The remove
from bed to bed was spoken of before ; but that was
in several years; this is upon the sudden. The cause
is the same with other removes formerly mentioned.

460. COLEWORTS are reported by one of the an-
cients to prosper exceedingly, and to be better tasted,
if they be sometimes watered with saltwater; and
much more with water mixed with nitre; the spirit
of which is less adurent than salt.

461. IT is reported that cucumbers will prove more
tender and dainty, if their seeds be steeped a little in
milk ; the cause may be, for that the seed being molli-
fied with the milk, will be too weak to draw the grosser
juice of the earth, but only the finer. The same expe-
riment may be made in artichokes and other seeds,
when you would take away either their flashiness or
bitterness. They speak also, that the like effect fol-
loweth of steeping in water mixed with honey; but
that seemeth to me not so probable, because honey
hath too quick a spirit.

462. IT is reported, that cucumbers will be less
watery, a-nd more melon-like, if in the pit where you
set them, you fill it, half-way up, with chaffor small
sticks, and then pour earth upon them ; for cucum-
bers., as it s.eemeth, do extremely affect moisture, and
over-drink themselves; which this chaffor chips for-
biddeth. Nay, it is farther reported, that if, when a
cucumber is grown, you set a pot of water about five
or six inches distance from it, it will, in twenty-four
hours shoot so much out as to touch the pot ;
which, if it be true, is an experiment of an higher na-
ture than belongeth to this title : for it discovereth
perception in plants, to move towards that which
should b«lp and comfort them, though it be at a dis-
tance. The ancient tradition of the vine is far more
strange; it is, that if you set a stake or prop some
distance from it, it will grow that way ; which is far
stranger, as is said, than the other : for that water
may work by a sympathy of attraction ; but this of
the stake seemeth to be a reasonable discourse.

Cent. V.] Natural History. 407

463. IT hath been touched before, that terebratior*
of trees doth make them prosper better. But it is
found also, that it maketh the fruit sweeter and bet-
ter. The cause is, for that, notwithstanding the tere-
bration,they may receive aliment sufficient, and yet no
more than they can well turn and digest ; and withal
do sweat out the coarsest and unprofitablest juice;
even as it is in living creatures, which by moderate
feeding, and exercise, and sweat, attain the soundest
habit of body.

464. As terebration doth meliorate fruit, so upon
the like reason doth letting of plants blood ; as prick-
ing vines, or other trees, after they be of some
growth ; and thereby letting forth gum or tears ;
though this be not to continue, as it is in terebration,
but at some seasons. And it is reported, that by this
artifice bitter almonds have been turned into sweet.

465. THE ancients for the dulcerating of fruit. do
commend swine's dung above all other dung ; which
may be because of the moisture of that beast, whereby
the excrement hath less acrimony; for we see swines
and pigs flesh is the moistest of fleshes.

466. IT is observed by some, that all herbs wax
sweeter, both in smell and taste, if after they be grown
up some reasonable time, they be cut, and so you
take the latter sprout. The cause may be, for that
the longer the juice stayeth in the root and stalk, the
better it concocteth. For one of the chief causes
why grains, seeds, and fruits, are more nourishing
than leaves, is the length of time in which they
grow to maturation. It were not amiss to keep back
the sap of herbs, or the like, by some fit means, till
the end of summer ;. whereby, it may be, they will
be more nourishing.

467. As grafting doth generally advance and me-
liorate fruits, above that which they would be if they
were set of kernels or stones, in regard the nourish-
ment is better concocted; so, no doubt, even in graft-
ing, for the same cause, the choice of the stock doth
much ; always provided, that it be somewhat infe-
rior to the cion ; for otherwise it dulleth it. They

DD 2

408 Natural History. [Cent. V.

commend much the grafting of pears or apples upon
a quince.

468. BESIDES the means of melioration of fruits
before mentioned, it is set down as tried, that a mix-
ture of bran and swine's dung, or chaff and swine's
dung, especially laid up together for a month to rot,
is a very great nourisher and comforter to a fruit-tree.

469. IT is delivered, that onions wax greater if
they be taken out of the earth, and laid a drying
twenty days, and then set again ; and yet more, if
the outermost peel be taken offall over.

470. IT is delivered by some, that if one take the
bough of a low fruit-tree newly budded, and draw it
gently, without hurting it, into an earthen pot per-
forate at the bottom to let in the plant, and then
cover the pot with earth, it will yield a very large
fruit within the ground. Which experiment is no-
thing but potting of plants without removing, and
leaving the fruit in the earth. The like, they say,
will be effected by an empty pot without earth in it,
put over a fruit, being propped up with a stake, as
it hangeth upon the tree ; and the better if some few
pertusions be made in the pot. Wherein, besides the
defending of the fruit from extremity of sun or wea-
ther, some give a reason, that the fruit loving and
coveting the open air and sun, is invited by those
pertusions to spread and approach as near the open
air as it can ; and so enlargeth in magnitude.

471. ALL trees in high and sandy grounds are to
be set deep ; and in watery grounds more shallows
And in all trees, when they be removed, especially
fruit-trees, care ought to be taken, that the sides of the
trees be coasted, north and south, etc. as they stood be-
fore. The same is said also of stone out of the quarry,
to make it more durable ; though that seemeth to
have less reason ; because the stene lieth not so near
the sun, as the tree groweth;

472. TIMBER trees in a coppice wood do grow
better than in an open field ; both because they offer
not to spread so much, but shoot up still in height ;
and chiefly because they are defended from too much

Cent. V.] Natural History.

sun and wind, which do check the growth of all
fruit; and so, no doubt, fruit-trees, or vines, set upon
a wall against the sun, between elbows or buttresses
of stone, ripen more than upon a plain wall.

473. IT is said, that if potato-roots be set in a pot
filled with earth, and then the pot with earth be set
likewise within the ground some two or three inches,
the roots will grow greater than ordinary. The cause
may be, for that having earth enough within the pot
•to nourish them; and then being stopped by the bot-
torn of the pot from putting strings downward, they
must needs grow greater in breadth and thickness.
And it may be, that all seeds or roots potted, and so
set into the earth, will prosper the better.

474. THE cutting off the leaves of radish, or other
roots, in the beginning of winter, before they wither,
and covering again the root somethinghigh with earth,
will preserve the root all winter, and make it bigger
in the spring following, as hath been partly touched
before. So that there is a double use of this cutting
off the leaves ; for in plants where the root is the escu-
lent, as radish and parsnips, it will make the root the
greater; and so it will do to the heads of onions.
And .where the fruit is the esculent, by strengthening
the root, it \vill make the fruit also the greater.

475. Iris an experiment of great pleasure, to make
the leaves of shady trees larger than ordinary. It
hath been tried for certain that a cion of a weech-
elm, grafted upon the stock of an ordinary elm, will
put forth leaves almost as broad as the brim of one's
hat. And it is very likely, that as in fruit-trees the graft
maketh a greater fruit ; so in trees that bear no fruit,
it will make the greater leaves. It would be tried
therefore in trees of that kind chiefly, as birch, asp,
willow ; and especially the shining willow, which
they call swallow-tail, because of the pleasure of the
leaf.

476. THE barrenness of trees by accident, besides
the weakness of the soil, seed, or root ; and the in-
jury of the weather, cometh cither of their overgrow-
ing with moss, or their being hide-bound, or their

410 Natural History. [Cent. V.

planting too deep, or by issuing of the sap too much
into the leaves. For all these there are remedies
mentioned before.

Experiments in consort touching compound fruits and
Jiowers.

WE see that in living creatures, that have male and
female, there is copulation of several kinds; and so
compound creatures ; as the mule that is generated
betwixt the horse and the ass ; and some other com-
pounds which we call monsters, though more rare :
and it is held that that proverb, Africa semper aliquid
monstri parit, cometh, for that the fountains of wa-
ters there being rare, divers sorts of beasts come from
several parts to drink; and so being refreshed, fall to
couple, and many times with several kinds. The com-
pounding or mixture of kinds in plants is not found out ;
which, nevertheless, if it be possible, is more at com-
mand than that of living creatures; for that their lust
requireth a voluntary motion ; wherefore it were one
of the most noble experiments touching plants to
find it out : for so you may have great variety of new
fruits and flowers yet unknown. Grafting doth it not :
that mendeth the fruit, or doubleth the flowers, etc.
but it hath not the power to make a new kind. For
the cion ever over-ruleth the stock.

477. IT hath been set down by one of the ancients,
that if you take two twigs of several fruit-trees, and
flat them on the sides, and then bind them close toge-
ther and set them in the ground, they will come up in
one stock ; but yet they will put forth their several fruits
without any commixture in the fruit. Wherein note, by
the way, that unity of continuance is easier to procure
than unity of species. It is reported also, that vines
of red and white grapes being set in the ground, and
the upper parts being flatted and bound close toge-
ther, will put forth grapes of the several colours upon
the same branch ; and grape-stones of several colours
within the same grape : but the more after a year or
two : the unity, as it seemeth, growing more perfect.
And this will likewise help, if from the first uniting

Cent. V.J Natural History. 4 1 1

they be often watered ; for all moisture helpeth to
union. And it is prescribed also to bind the bud as
soon as it cometh forth, as well as the stock, at the
least for a time.

478. THEY report, that divers seeds put into a
clout, and laid in earth well dunged, will put up
plants contiguous ; which, afterwards, being bound
in, their shoots will incorporate. The like is said of
kernels put into a bottle with a narrow mouth filled
with earth.

479. IT is reported, that young trees of several
kinds set contiguous without any binding, and very
oft watered, in a fruitful ground, with the very lux-
ury of the trees will incorporate and grow together.
Which seemeth to me the likeliest means that hath
been propounded; for that the binding doth hinder
the natural swelling of the tree^ which, while it is
in motion, doth better unite.

Experiments in consort touching the sympathy and
antipathy of plants.

THERE are many ancient and received traditions
and observations touching the sympathy and antipathy
of plants ; for that some will thrive best growing near
others, which they impute to sympathy ; and some
worse, which they impute to antipathy. But these
are idle and ignorant conceits, and forsake the true
indication of the causes, as the most part of experi-
ments that concern sympathies and antipathies do.
For as to plants, neither is there any such secret
friendship or hatred as they imagine ; and if we should
be content to call it sympathy and antipathy, it is
utterly mistaken; for their sympathy is an antipathy,
and their antipathy is a sympathy ; for it is thus ;
Wheresoever one plant draweth sucn a particular juice
out of the earth, as it qualifieth the earth, so as that
juice which remaineth is fit for the other plant ; there
the neighbourhood doth good, because the nourish-
ments are contrary or several : but where two plants
draw much the same juice, there the neighbourhood
liurteth, for the one dcceiveth the. other.

412 Natural History. [Cent. V.

480. FIRST therefore, all plants that do draw much
nourishment from the earth, and so soak the earth and
exhaust it2 hurt all things that grow by them ; as great
trees, especially ashes, and such trees as spread their
roots near the top of the ground. So the colewort is
not an enemy, though that were anciently received,
to the vine only; but it is an enemy to any other
plant, because it draweth strongly the fattest juice of
the earth. And if it be true, that the vine when it
creepeth near the colewort will turn away, this may
be, because there it findeth worse nourishment ; for
though the root be where it was, yet, I doubt, the
plant will bend as it nourisheth.

481. WHERE plants are of several natures, and draw
several juices out of the earth, there, as hath been
said, the one set by the other helpeth : as it is set
down by divers of the ancients, that rue doth prosper
much, and becometh stronger, if it be set by a fig-
tree; which, we conceive, is caused not by reason
of friendship, but by extraction of a contrary juice :
the one drawing juice fit to result sweet, the other
bitter. So they have set down likewise, that a rose
set by garlic is sweeter: which likewise may be, be-
cause the more fetid juice of the earth goeth into the
garlic, and the more odorate into the rose.

482. THIS we see manifestly, that there be certain
corn flowers which come seldom or never in other
places, unless they be set, but only amongst corn ;
as the blue bottle, a kind of yellow marygold, wild
poppy, and fumitory. Neither can this be, by reason
of the culture of the ground, by ploughing or furrow-
ing ; as some herbs and flowers will grow but in
ditches new cast; for if the ground lie fallow and un-
sown, they will not come : so as it should seem to be
the corn that qualifieth the earth, and preparcth it for
their growth.

483. THIS observation, if it holdeth, as it is very
probable, is of great use for the meliorating of taste
in fruits and esculent herbs, and of the scent of
flowers. For J do not doubt, but if the fig-tree do
make the rue more strong and bitter, as the ancients

Cent. V

In

?

nt. V.] Natural History.

have noted, good store of rue planted about the fig-
tree will make the fig more sweet. Now the tastes
that do most offend in fruits, and herbs, and roots,
are bitter, harsh, sour, and waterish, or flashy. It
were good therefore to make the trials following :

484. TAKE wormwood or rue, and set it near let-
uce or colefiory, or artichoke, and see whether the

lettuce or the colefiory, etc. become not the sweeter.

485. TAKK a service-tree, or a cornelian tree, or an
elder-tree, which we know have fruits of harsh and

hiding juice, and set them near a vine, or fig-tree, and
see whether the grapes or figs will not be the sweeter.

486. TAKE cucumbers or pumpions, and set them,
here and there, amongst musk-melons, and see whether
the melons will not be more winy, and better tasted*
Set cucumbers, likewise, amongst radish, and see
whether the radish will not be made the more biting.

487. TAKE sorrel, and set it amongst rasps, and see
whether the rasps will not be the sweeter.

488. TAKE common briar, and set it amongst vio-
lets or wall-flowers, and see whether it will not make
the violets or wall-flowers sweeter, and less earthy in
their smell. So set lettuce or cucumbers amongst
rosemary or bays, and see whether the rosemary or
bays will not be the more oderate or aromatical.

489. CONTRARIWISE, you must take heed how you
set. herbs together, that draw much the like juice.
And therefore I think rosemary will lose in sweet-
ness, if it be set with lavender, or bays, or the like.
But yet if you will correct the strength of an herb, you
shall do well to set other like herbs by him to take
him down ; as if you should set tansey by angelica, it

ay be the angelica would be the weaker, and fitter
for mixture in perfume. And if you should set rue by
common wormwood, it may be the wormwood would
turn to be liker Roman wormwood.

490. THIS axiom is of large extent; and therefore
would be severed and refined by trial. Neither must
you expect to have a gross difference by this kind of
culture, but only farther perfection.

491. TRIAL would be also made in herbs poisonous
and purgative, whose ill quality, perhaps, may be

4 1 4 Natural History. [Cent. V.

discharged, or attempered, by setting stronger poi-
sons or purgatives by them.

492. IT is reported, that the shrub called our ladies
seal, which is a kind of briony, and coleworts, set
near together, one or both will die. The cause is, for
that they be both great depredators of the earth, and
one of them starveth the other. The like is said of
a reed and a brake : both which are succulent ; and
therefore the one deceiveth the other. And the like of
hemlock and rue ; both which draw strong juices.

493. SOME of the ancients, and likewise divers of
the modern writers, that have laboured in natural
magic, have noted a sympathy between the sun,
moon, and some principal stars, and certain herbs
and plants. And so they have denominated some
herbs solar, and some lunar ; and such like toys put
into great words. It is manifest that there are some
flowers that have respect to the sun in two kinds, the
one by opening and shutting, and ihe other by bow-
ing and inclining the head. For marygolds, tulips,
pimpernel, and indeed most flowers, do open and
spread their leaves abroad when the sun shineth serene
and fair: and again, in some part, close them, or
gather them inward, either towards night, or when
the sky is overcast. Of this there needeth no such
solemn reason to be assigned ; as to say, that they re-
joice at the presence of the sun, and mourn at the
absence thereof. For it is nothing else but a little
loading of the leaves, and swelling them at the bot-
tom, with the moisture of the air ; whereas the dry
air doth extend them : and they make it a piece
of the wonder, that garden clover will hide the stalk
when the sun sheweth bright : which is nothing but
a full expansion of the leaves. For the bowing and
inclining the head, it is found in the great flower of
the sun, in marygolds, wartwort, mallow flowers, and
others. The cause is somewhat more obscure than
the former ; but I take it to be no other, but that the
part against which the sun beateth waxcth more faint
and flaccid in the stalk, and thereby less able to sup-
port the flower.

49*4. WHAT a little moisture will do in vegetables,

Cent. V.] Natural History. 4 1 3

even though they be dead and severed from the earth,
appeareth well in the experiment of jugglers. They
take the beard of an oat; which, if you mark it well,
is wreathed at the bottom, and one smooth in tire straw
at the top. They take only the part that is wreathed,
and cut off the other, leaving the beard half the
breadth of a ringer in length. Then they make a
little cross of a quill, longways of that part of the
quill which hath the pith ; and cross-ways of that
piece of the quill without pith ; the whole cross be-
ing the breadth of a finger high. Then they prick
the bottom -where the pith is, and thereinto they put
the oaten beard, leaving half of it sticking forth of
the quill: then they take a little white box of wood,
to deceive men, as if somewhat in the box did work
the feat ; in which, with a pin, they make a little
hole, enough to take the beard, but not to let the
cross sink down, but to stick. Then likewise, by
way of imposture, they make a question ; as, Who
is the fairest woman in the company ? or, Who hath
a glove or card ? and cause another to name divers
persons : and upon every naming they stick the cross
in the box, having first put it towards their mouth,
as if they charmed it ; and the cross stirreth not ; but
when they come to the person that they would take,
as they hold the cross to their mouth, they touch the
beard with the tip of their tongue, and wet it ; and
so stick the cross in the box ; and then you shall see
it turn finely and softly three or four turns ; which is
caused by the untwining of the beard by the moisture.
You may see it more evidently, if you stick the cross
between your fingers instead of the box ; and therefore
you may see, that this motion, which is effected by
so little wet, is stronger than the closing or bending
of the head of a marygold.

495. IT is reported by some, that the herb called
rosasolis, whereof they make strong waters, will, at
the noon-day when the sun shineth hot and bright,
have a great dew upon it. And therefore that the
right name is ros soli's: which they impute to a de-
light and sympathy that it hath with the sun. Men
favour wonders. It were good first to be sure, that

416 Natural History. [Cent. V.

the dew that is found upon it, be not the dew of the
'morning preserved, when the dew of other herbs is
breathed away ; for it hath a smooth and thick leaf,
that doth not discharge the dew so soon as other herbs
that are more spungy and porous. And it may be
purslane, or some other herb, doth the like, and is
not marked. But if it be so, that it hath more dew
at noon than in the morning, then sure it seemeth to
be an exudation of the herb itself. As plums sweat
when they are set into the oven : for you will not, I
hope, think, that it is like Gideon's fleece of wool,
that the dew should fall upon that and no where else.

496. IT is certain, that the honey dews are found
more upon oak leaves, than upon ash, or beech, or
the like: but whether any cause be from the leaf it-
self to concoct the dew ; or whether it be only that
the leaf is close and smooth, and therefore drinketh
not in the dew, but preserveth it, may be doubted.
It wouki be well enquired, whether manna the drug
doth fall but upon certain herbs or leaves only.
Flowers that have deep sockets, do gather in the bot-
tom a kind of honey ; as honey-suckles, both the
woodbine and the trefoil, lilies, and the like. And
in them certainly the flower beareth part with the dew.

497. THE experience is, that the froth which they
call woodseare, being like a kind of spittle, is found
but upon certain herbs, and those hot ones ; as la-
vender, lavender-cotton, sage, hyssop, etc. Of the
cause of this inquire farther ; for it seemeth a secret.
There falleth also mildew upon corn, and smutteth
it ; but it may be, that the same falleth also upon
other herbs, and is not observed.

498. IT were good trial were made, whether the
great consent between plants and water, which is a
principal nourishment of them, will make an attrac-
tion at distance, and not at touch only. Therefore
take a vessel, and in the middle of it make a false
bottom of coarse canvas: fill it with earth above the
canvas, and let not the earth be watered ; then sow
some good seeds in that earth ; but under the canvas,
some half a foot in the bottom of the vessel, lay a
great spunge thoroughly wet in water; and let it lie

Cent. V.] Natural History. 417

so some ten. days, and see whether the seeds will
sprout, and the earth become more moist, arid the
spunge more dry. The experiment formerly men-
tioned of the cucumber creeping to the pot of water,
is far stranger than this.

Experiments in consort touching the making herbs and
frn its medic inable.

499 . THE altering of the scent, colour, or taste of fruit?
by infusing, mixing, or letting into the bark, or root
of the tree, herb, or flower, any coloured, aiomatical,
or medicinal substance,, are but fancies. The cause
is, for that those things have passed their period, and
nourish not. And all alteration of vegetables in those
qualities must be by somewhat that is apt to go into
the nourishment of the plant. But this is true, that
where kine feed upon wild garlick, their milk taste th
plainly of the garlic : and the flesh of muttons is better
tasted where the sheep feed upon wild thyme, and
other wholesome herbs. Galen also speaketh of the
curing of the scirrus of the liver, by milk of a cow
that feedeth but upon certain herbs; and honey in
Spain smelleth apparently of the rosemary or orange,
from whence the bee gathereth it : and there is aa
old tradition of a maiden that was fed with napelhis ;
which is counted the strongest poison of all vege-
tables, which with use did not hurt the maid, but
poisoned some that had carnal company with her.
So it is obverved by some, that there is a virtuous
bezoar, and another without virtue, which appear to
the shew alike : but the virtuous is taken from the
beast that feedeth upon the mountains, where there
are theriacal herbs ; and that without virtue, from
those that feed in the vallies where no such herbs are.
Thus far J am of opinion; that, as steeped wines and
beers are very medicinal ; and likewise bread tem-
pered with divers powders ; so of meat also, as flesh,
fish, milk, and eggs, that they may be made of great
use for medicine and diet, if the beasts, fowl, or fish,
be ted with a special kind of food fit for the disease.
It were a dangerous thing also for secret etirppison-
ments. But whether it may be applied unto plants

4 1 8 Xatural History. [Cent. V.

and herbs, I doubt more ; because the nourishment
of them is a more common juice ; which is hardly
capable of any special quality, until the plant do
assimilate it.

50O. Bur lest our incredulity may prejudice any
profitable operations in this kind, especially since
many of the ancients have set them down, we think
good briefly to propound the four means which they
have devised of making plants me<licinable. The first
is by slitting of the root, and infusing into it the me-
dicine ; as hellebore, opium, scammony, treacle, etc.
and then binding it up again. This seemeth to me
the least probable ; because the root draweth imme-
diately from the earth ; and so the nourishment is the
more common and less qualified : and besides, it is a
long time in going up ere it come to the fruit. The
second way is to perforate the body of the tree, and
there to infuse the medicine ; which is somewhat
better: for if any virtue be received from the medi-
cine, it hath the less way, and the less time to go up.
The third is, the steeping of the seed or kernel in
some liquor wherein the medicine is infused : which
I have little opinion of, because the seed, I doubt,
will not draw the parts of the matter which have the
propriety : but it will be far the more likely, if you
mingle the medicine with dung ; for that the seed
naturally drawing the moisture of the dung, may call
in withal some of the propriety. The fourth is, the wa-
tering of the plant oft with an infusion of the medicine.
This, in one respect may have more force than the rest,
because the medication is oft renewed ; whereas the
rest are applied but at one time ; and therefore the
virtue may the sooner vanish. But still I doubt, that
the root is somewhat too stubborn to receive those fine
impressions; and besides, as I said before, they have
a great hill to go up. I judge therefore the like^
liest way to be the perforation of the body of the
tree in several places one above the other ; and the
filling of the holes with dung mingled with the me-
dicine ; and the watering of those lumps of dung
with squirts of an infusion of the medicine in dunged
water, once in three or four days.

NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY VI.

\rpcr iments in consort touching curiosities about fruits
and plants.

OUR experiments we take care to be, as we have
often said, either expcrimenta fructifcm, or ludfcra ;
either of use, or of discovery : for we hate impostures,
and despise curiosities. Yet because we must apply
ourselves somewhat to others, we will set down some
curiosities touching plants.

501. IT is a curiosity to have several fruits upon one
ree ; and the more when some of them come early,
nd some come late ; so that you may have upon the

me tree ripe fruits all summer. This is easily done
y grafting of several cions upon several boughs, of
stock, in a good ground plentifully fed. So you
may have all kinds of cherries, and all kinds of plums,
and peaches, and apricots, upon one tree ; but I con-
ceive the diversity of fruits must be such as will graft
upon the same stock. And therefore I doubt, whether
you can have apples, or pears, or oranges, upon the
same stock upon which you graft plums.

502. IT is a curiosity to have fruits of divers shapes
and figures. This is easily performed, by molding
them when the fruit is young, with molds of earth or
wood. So you may have cucumbers, Sfc. as long as
a cane ; or as round as a sphere ; or formed like a
cross. You may have also apples in the form of
pears or lemons. You may have also fruit in more
accurate figures, as we said of men, beasts, or birds,
according as you make the molds. Wherein you
must understand, that you make the mold big enough
to contain the whole fruit when it is grown to the
greatest : for else you will choke the spreading of

42O Natural History/. [Cent. VI.

the fruit ; which otherwise would spread itself, and
fill the concave, and so be turned into the shape
desired; as it is in mold works of liquid things. Some
doubt may be conceited, that the keeping of the sun
from the fruit may hurt it : but there is ordinary ex-
perience of fruit that groweth covered. Query, also,
whether some small holes may not be made in the
wood to let in the sun. And note, that it were best
to make the molds partible, glued, or cemented to-
gether, that you may open them when you take out
the fruit.

503. IT is a curiosity to have inscriptions, or en-
gravings, in fruit or trees. This is easily performed,
by writing with a needle, or bodkin, or knife, or the
like, when the fruit or trees are young ; for as they
grow, so the letters will grow more large and gra-

— Tenerisque meos incidere a mores
Arboribus ; crescent illx, crescetis amoves.

504. You may have trees appareled with flowers
or herbs, by boring holes in the bodies of them, and
putting into them earth holpen with muck, and
setting seeds, or slips, of violets, strawberries, wild
thyme, camomile, and suchlike, in the earth. Wherein
they do but grow in the tree as they do in pots ;
though, perhaps, with some feeding from the trees.
It would be tried also with shoots of vines, and roots
of red roses, ; for it may be they being of a more
ligneous nature, will incorporate with the tree itself.

505. IT is an ordinary curiosity to form trees and
shrubs, as rosemary, juniper, and the like, into sundry
shapes; which is done by molding them within, and
cutting them without. But they are but lame things,
being too small to keep figure : great castles made of
trees upon frames of timber, with turrets and arches,
were matters of magnificence.

506. AMONGST curiosities I shall place coloration,
though it be somewhat better : for beauty in flowers
is their preeminence. It is observed by some, that
gilly-flowers, sweet-williams, violets, that are co-
loured, if they be neglected, and neither watered, nor

-

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 421

new molded, nor transplanted, will turn white. And
it is probable that the white with much culture may
turn coloured. For this is certain, that the white
colour cometh of scarcity of nourishment ; except in
flowers that are only white, and admit no other
colours.

507. IT is good therefore to see what natures do
accompany what colours ; for by that you shall have
light how to induce colours, by producing those
natures. Whites are more inodorate, for the most
part, than flowers of the same kind coloured ; as is
found in single white violets, white roses, white gilly-
flowers, white stock-gilly-flowers, etc. We find also
that blossoms of trees, that are white, are commonly
inodorate, as cherries, pears, plums ; whereas those of
apples, crabs, almonds, and peaches, are blushy and
smell sweet. The cause is, for that the substance
that maketh the flower is of the thinnest and finest of
the plant, which also maketh flowers to be of so
dainty colours. And if it be too sparing and thin, it
attaineth no strength of odour, except it be in such
plants as are very succulent ; whereby they need
rather to be scanted in their nourishment than re-
plenished, to have them sweet. As we see in white
satyrion, which is of a dainty smell; and in bean-
flowers, etc. And again, if the plant be of nature to
put forth white flowers only, and those not thin or
dry, they are commonly of rank and fulsome smell ;
as may-flowers, and white lilies.

508. CONTRARIWISE, in berries the white is com-
monly more delicate and sweet in taste than the co-
loured, as we see in white grapes, in white rasps, in
white strawberries, in white currants, &c. The cause
is, for that the coloured are more juiced, and coarser
juiced, and therefore not so well and equally con-
cocted ; but the white are better proportioned to the
digestion of the plant.

509. Bur in fruits the white commonly is meaner:
as in pear-plums, damascenes, etc. and the choicest
plums are black ; the mulberry, which though they
call it a berry, is a fruit, is better the black than the

VOL. I. E E

•

422 Natural History. [Cent. VI*

white. The harvest white plum is a base plum ; and
the verdoccio, and white date-plum, are no very good
plums. The cause is, for that they are all over-watery ;
whereas an higher concoction is required for sweet-
ness, or pleasure of taste; and therefore all your dainty
plums are a little dry, and come from the stone; as the
muscle-plum, the damascene plum, the peach, the
apricot, etc. yet some fruits, which grow not to be
black, are of the nature of berries, sweetest such as
are paler; as the cceur-cherry, which inclineth more
to white, is sweeter than the red ; but the e'griot is
more sour.

510. TAKE gilly-flower seed, of one kind of gilly-
flower, as of the clove-gilly-flower, which is the most
common, and sow it, and there will come up gilly-
flowers, some of one colour, and some of another, ca-
sually, as the seed meeteth with nourishment in the
earth ; so that the gardeners find, that they may
have two or three roots amongst an hundred that are
rare and of great price ; as purple, carnation of seve-
ral stripes : the cause is, no doubt, that in earth,
though it be contiguous, and in one bed, there are very
several juices; and as the seed doth casually meet with
them, so it cometh forth. And it is noted especially,
that those which do come up purple, do always come
up single : the juice, as it seemeth, not being able to
suffice a succulent colour, and a double leaf. This ex-
periment of several colours coming up from one seed,
would be tried also in larks-foot, monks-hood, poppy,
and holyoak.

511, FEW fruits are coloured red within ; the
queen-apple is ; and another apple, called the rose-
apple : mulberries, likewise, and grapes, though
most toward the skin. There is a peach also that
hath a circle of red towards the stone : and the egriot
cherry is somewhat red within ; but no pear, nor war-
den, nor plum, nor apricot, although they have many
times red sides, are coloured red within. The cause
may be inquired.

\ 512. THE general colour of plants is green, which
is a colour that no flower is of. There is a greenish

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 423

primrose, but it is pale and scarce a green. The leaves
of some trees turn a little murry or reddish ; and they
be commonly young leaves that do so ; as it is hvoaks,
and vines, and hazle. Leaves rot into a yellow, and
some hollies have part of their leaves yellow, and are*
to all seeming, as fresh and shining as the green. I
suppose also, that yellow is a less succulent colour than
green, and a degree nearer white. For it hath been
noted, that those yellow leaves of holly stand ever to-
wards the north or north-east. Some roots are yellow,
as carrots ; and some plants blood-red, stalk and leaf,
and all, as amaranthus. Some herbs incline to purple
and red ; as a kind of sage doth, and a kind of mint,
and rosa soils, etc. And some have white leaves, as
mother kind of sage, and another kind of mint; but
izure and a fair purple are never found in leaves,
"his sheweth, that flowers are made of a refined juice
of the earth, and so are fruits ; but leaves of a more
:oarse and common.

513. Iris a curiosity also to make flowers double,
rhich is effected by often removing them into new
iarth ; as, on the contrary part, double flowers, by
neglecting and not removing, prove single. And the
way to do it speedily, is to sow or set seeds-or slips of
flowers; and as soon as they come up, to remove them
into new ground that is good. Inquire also, whether ino-
culating of flowers, as stock-gilly-flowers, roses, musk-
roses, etc. doth not make them double. There is a
cherry-tree that hath double blossoms; but that tree
beareth no fruit : and it may be, that the same means
which, applied to the tree, doth extremely accelerate
the sap to rise and break forth, would make the tree
spend itself in flowers, and those to become double :
which were a great pleasure to see, especially in ap-
ple-trees, peach-trees, and almond-trees, that have
blossoms blush-coloured.

514. THE making of fruits without core or stone,
is likewise a curiosity, and somewhat better : because
whatsoever maketh them so, is like to make them
more tender and delicate. If a cion or shoot, fit to be
set in the ground, have the pith finely taken forth, and

E E 2

424 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

not altogether, but some of it left, the better to save
the life, it will bear a fruit with little or no core or
stone. And the like is said to be of dividing a quick
tree down to the ground, and taking out the pith, and
then binding it up again.

515. IT is reported also, that a citron grafted upon
a quince will have small or no seeds ; and it is very
probable that any sour fruit grafted upon a stock that
beareth a sweeter fruit, may both make the fruit
sweeter, and more void of the harsh matter of kernels
or seeds.

516. IT is reported, that not only the taking out of
the pith, but the stopping of the juice of the pith from
rising in the midst, and turning it to rise on the out-
side, will make the fruit without core or stone 5 as if
you should bore a tree clean through, and put a
wedge in. It is true, there is some affinity between
the pith and the kernel, because they are both of a
harsh substance, and both placed in the midst.

517. IT is reported, that trees watered perpetually
with warm water, will make a fruit with little or no
core or stone. And the rule is general, that whatso-
ever will make a wild tree a garden tree, will make a
a garden tree to have less core or stone.

Experiments in consort touching the degenerating of
plants, and of the transmutation of them one into
another.

518. THE rule is certain, that plants for want of
culture degenerate to be baser in the same kind; and
sometimes so far, as to change into another kind.
1. The standing long, and not being removed, mak-
eth them degenerate. 2. Drought, unless the earth
of itself be moist, doth the like. 3. So doth removing
into worse earth, or forbearing to compost the earth ;
as we .see that water-mint turneth into field mint, and
the colewort into rape, by neglect, etc.

519. WHATSOEVER fruit usethto be set upon a root
or a slip, if it be sown, will degenerate. Grapes
sown, figs, almonds, pomegranate kernels sown, make
the fruits degenerate and become wild. And again,

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 425

most of those fruits that use to be grafted, if they be
set of kernels, or stones, degenerate. It is true that
peaches, as hath been touched before, do better upon
stones set than upon grafting : and the rule of excep-
tion should seem to be this : that whatsoever plant re-
quireth much moisture, prospered! better upon the
stone or kernel than upon the graft. For the stock,
though it giveth a finer nourishment, yet it giveth a
scantier than the earth at large.

520. SEEDS, if they be very old, and yet have
strength enough to bring forth a plant, make the
plant degenerate. And therefore skilful gardeners
make trial of the seeds before they buy them, whether
they be good or no, by putting them into water gently
boiled ; and if they be good, they will sprout within
half an hour.

521. IT is strange which is reported, that basil too
much exposed to the sun doth turn unto wild thyme ;
although those two herbs seem to have small affinity ;
but basil is almost the only hot herb that hath fat and
succulent leaves ; which oiliness, if it be drawn forth
by the sun, it is like it will make a very great change.

522. THERE is an old tradition, that boughs of oak
put into the earth will put forth wild vines : which if
it be true, no doubt it is not the oak that turneth into
a vine, but the oak-bough putrifying, qualifieth the
earth to put forth a vine of itself.

523. IT is not impossible, and I have heard it ve-
rified, that upon cutting down of an old timber tree,
the stub hath put out sometimes a tree of another
kind ; as that beech hath put forth birch; which, if it
be true, the cause may be, for that the old stub is too
scanty of juice to put forth trie former tree; and
therefore putteth forth a tree of a smaller kind, that
needeth less nourishment.

524. THERE is an opinion in the country, that if
the same ground be oft sown with the grain that
grew upon it, it will in the end grow to be of a baser
kind.

525. IT is certain, that in very steril years corn sown
will grow to another kind.

426 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

Grandia SfCpe qidbus mandavimus hordea sidcis,
Infdix lolium, ct steriles dominantur aven&.
And generally it is a rule, that plants that are brought
forth by culture, as corn, will sooner change into other
species, than those that come of themselves ; for that
culture giveth but an adventitious nature, which is
more easily put off,

THIS work of the transmutation of plants one into
another, is inter magnalia nature ; for the transmuta-
tion of species is, in the vulgar philosophy, pro-
nounced impossible : and certainly it is a thing of dif-
ficulty, and requireth deep search into nature ; but
seeing there appear some manifest instances of it, the
opinion of impossibility is to be rejected, and the
means thereof to be found out, We see, that in living
creatures, that come of putrefaction, there is much
transmutation of one into another ; as caterpillars turn
into flies, etc. And it should seem probable, that
whatsoever creature, having life, is generated with-
out seed, that creature will change out of one species
into another. For it is the seed and the nature of it,
which locketh and boundeth in the creature, that it
doth not expatiate. So as we may well conclude,
that seeing the earth of itself doth put forth plants
without seed, therefore plants hiay well have a transmi-
gration of species, Wherefore, wanting instances which
do occur, we shall give directions of the most like^
Jy trials ; and generally we would not have those that
read this our work of Sylva syivarum account it strange,
or think that it is an over-haste, that we have set down,
particulars untried ; for contrariwise, in our own esti-
mation we account such particulars more worthy than
those that are already tried and known: for these
latter must be taken as you find them; but the other
do level point-bjank at the inventing of causes and
axioms.

526. FIRST therefore, you must make an account
that if you will have one plant change into another,
you must have the nourishment over-rule the seed -3
and therefore you are to practise jtby nourishments as
Contrary as may be to the nature of the herb, so ne-

i

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 427

vertheless as the herb may grow; and likewise with
seeds that are of the weakest sort, and have least vigour.
You shall do well, therefore, to take marsh-herbs, and
plant them upon tops of hills and champaigns; and
such plants as require much moisture upon sandy and
very dry grounds. As for example, marsh-mallows
and sedge, upon hills; cucumber, and lettuce seeds,
and coleworts, upon a sandy plot ; so contrariwise,
plant bushes, heath, ling, and brakes, upon a wet or
marsh ground. This 1 conceive also, that all escu-
lent and garden herbs, set upon the tops of hills, will
prove more medicinal, though less esculent than they
were before. And it may be likewise, some wild
herbs you may make sallad herbs. This is the first
rule for transmutation of plants.

527. THE second rule shall be, to bury some few
eds of the herb you would change, amongst other

seeds; and then you shall see, whether the juice of
those other seeds do not so qualify the earth, as it will
alter the seed whereupon you work. As for exam-
ple, put parsley seed amongst onion seed, or lettuce
seed amongst parsley seed, or basil seed amongst
thyme seed ; and see the change of taste or otherwise..
But you shall do well to put the seed you would change
into a little linen cloth, that it mingle not with the
foreign seed.

528. THE third rule sttall be, the making of some
medley or mixture of earth with some, other plants
bruised or shaven either in leaf or root : as for exam-
ple, make earth with a mixture of colewort leaves
stamped, and set in it artichokes or parsnips; so take
earth made \vith marjoram, or origanum, or wild
thyme, bruised or stamped, and set in it fennel seed,
etc. In which operation the process of nature still
will be, as I conceive, not that the herb you work
upon should draw the juice of the foreign herb, for
that opinion we have formerly rejected, but that there
will be a new confection of mold, which perhaps
will alter the seed, and yet not to the kind of the for-
mer herb.

529. THE fourth rule shall be, to mark what herbs

428 Natural History. [Gent. VI.

some earths do put forth of themselves ; and to take
that earth, and to pot it, or to vessel it ; and in that
to set the seed you would change: as for example,
take from under walls or the like, where nettles put
forth in abundance, the earth which you shall there
find, without any string or root of the nettles ; and
pot that earth, and set in it stock-gilly-flowers, or
wall-flowers, etc. or sow in the seeds of them ; and
see what the event will be : or take earth that you
have prepared to put forth mushrooms of itself,
whereof you shall find some instances following, and
sow in it purslane seed, or lettuce seed ; for in these
experiments, it is likely enough that the earth being
accustomed to send forth one kind of nourishment,
will alter the new seed.

530. THE fifth rule shall be, to make the herb grow
contrary to its nature; as to make ground-herbs rise
in height: as for example, carry camomile, or wild
thyme, or the green strawberry, upon sticks, as you do
hops upon poles ; and see what the event will be.

531. THE sixth rule shall be, to make plants grow
out of the sun or open air; for that is a great muta-
tion in nature, and may induce a change in the seed:
as barrel up earth, and sow some seed in it, and put it
in the bottom of a pond ; or put it in some great hol-
low tree ; try also the sowing of seeds in the bottoms
of caves ; and pots with seeds sown, hanged up in
wells some distance from the water, and see what the
event \vill be.

Experiments in consort touching the procerity, and low-
ness, and artificial dwarfing of trees.

532. IT is certain, that timber trees in coppice
woods grow more upright, and more free from under-
boughs, than those that stand in the fields : the cause
whereof is, for that plants have a natural motion to
get to the sun ; and besides, they are not glutted with
too much nourishment ; for that the coppice shareth
with them; and repletion ever hindereth stature:
lastly, they are kept warm ; and that ever in plants
helpeth mounting.

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 429

533. TREES that are of themselves full of heat,
which heat appearethby their inflammable gums, as
firs and pines, mount of themselves in height without
side-boughs, till they come towards the top. The
cause is partly heat, and partly tenuity of juice, both
which send the sap upwards. As for juniper, it is
but a shrub, and groweth not big enough in body to
maintain a tall tree.

534. IT is reported, that a good strong canvass,
spread over a tree grafted low, soon after it putteth
forth, will dwarf it, and make it spread. The cause is
plain; for that all things that grow, will grow as they
find room.

535. TREES are generally set of roots or kernels;
but if you set them of slips, as of some trees you may,
by name the mulberry, some of the slips will take ;
and those that take, as is reported, will be dwarf
trees. The cause is, for that a slip draweth nourish-
ment more weakly than either a root or kernel.

536. ALL plants that put forth their sap hastily,
have their bodies not proportionable to their length ;
and therefore they are winders and creepers ; as ivy,
briony, hops, woodbine: whereas dwarfing requireth
a slow putting forth, and less vigour of mounting.

Experiments in consort touching the rudiments of plants,
and of the excrescences of plants, or super-plants.

THE Scripture saith, that Solomon wrote a Natu-
ral History, from the cedar of Libanusl to the moss
growing upon the wall: for so the best translations
have it. And it is true that moss is but the rudiment
of a plant ; and, as it were, the mold of earth or
bark.

537. Moss groweth chiefly upon ridges of houses,
tiled or thatched, and upon the crests of walls : and
that moss is of a lightsome and pleasant green. The
growing upon slopes is caused, for that moss, as on the
one side it cometh of moisture and water, so on the
other side the water must but slide, and not stand
or pool. And the growing upon tiles, or walls, etc, is
caused, for that those dried earths,having not moisture

430 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

sufficient to put forth a plant, do practise germination
by putting forth moss ; though when, by age or other-
wise, they grow to relent and resolve, they sometimes
put forth plants, as wall-flowers. And almost all
moss hath here and there little stalks, besides the low
thrum.

538. Moss groweth upon alleys, especially such as
lie cold and upon the north ; as in divers terra sses : and
again, if they be much trodden ; or if they were at
the first gravelled ; for wheresoever plants are kept
down, the earth putteth forth moss.

539. OLD ground, that hath been long unbroken up,
gathereth moss : and therefore husbandmen use to
cure their pasture grounds when they grow to moss,
by tilling them for a year or two : which also de-
pendeth upon the same cause; for that the more
sparing and starving juice of the earth, insufficient for
plants, doth breed moss.

540. OLD trees are more mossy far than young; for
that the sap is not so frank as to rise all to the boughs,
but tireth by the way, and putteth out moss.

541. FOUNTAINS have moss growing upon the
ground about them ;

Muscosi f antes ;

The cause is, for that the fountains drain the water
from the ground adjacent, and leave but sufficient
moisture to breed moss: and besides, the coldness
of the water conduceth to the same.

542. THE moss of trees is a kind of hair; for it is
the juice of the tree that is excerned, and doth not as-
similate. And upon great trees the moss gathereth a
figure like a leaf.

543. THE mbister sort of trees yield little moss; as
we see in asps, poplars, willows, beeches, etc. which is
partly caused for the reason that hath been given, of
the frank putting up of the sap into the boughs; and
partly for that the barks of those trees are more close
and smooth than those of oaks and ashes ; whereby
the moss can the hardlier issue out.

544. IN clay grounds all fruit-trees grow full of
moss, both upon body and boughs; which is caused

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 43 1

partly by the coldness of the ground, whereby the
plants nourish less ; and partly by the toughness of
the earth, whereby the sap is shut in, and cannot get
up to spread so frankly as it should do.

545. WE have said heretofore, that if trees be hide-
bound, they wax less fruitful, and gather moss; and
that they are holpen by hacking, etc. And therefore,
by the reason of contraries, if trees be bound in with
cords, or some outward bands, they will put forth
more moss: which, I think, happeneth to trees that
stand bleak, and upon the cold winds. It should also
be tried, whether, if you cover a tree somewhat thick
upon the top after his polling, it will not gather more
moss. I think also the watering of trees with cold
fountain-water, will make them grow full of moss.

546. THERE is a moss the perfumers have, which
cometh out of apple trees, that hath an excellent
scent. Query, particularly for the manner of the
growth, and the nature of it. And for this experi-
ment's sake, being a thing of price, I have set down
the last experiments how to multiply and call on
mosses,

NEXT unto moss, I will speak of mushrooms;
which are likewise an imperfect plant. The mush-
rooms have two strange properties ; the one, that they
yield so delicious a meat; the other, that they come
up so hastily, as in a night; and yet they are un-
sown. And therefore such as are upstarts in state,
they call in reproach mushrooms. It must needs be
therefore, that they be made of much moisture ; and
that moisture fat, gross, and yet somewhat concocted.
And, indeed, we find that mushrooms cause the acci-
dent which we call incubus, or the mare in the sto-
mach, And therefore the surfeit of them may suffo-
cate and empoison. And this sheweth that they are
windy ; and that windiness is gross and swelling, not
sharp or griping. And upon the same reason mush-
rooms are a venereous meat,

547. IT is reported, that the bark of white or red
poplar, which are of the moistest of trees, cut small,
and cast into furrows well dunged, will cause the

432 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

ground to put forth mushrooms at all seasons of the
year fit to be eaten. Some add to the mixture leaven
of bread dissolved in water.

548. IT is reported, that if a hilly field, where the
stubble is standing, be set on fire in a showery season,
it will put forth great store of mushrooms.

549. IT is reported, that hartshorn, shaven, or in
small pieces, mixed with dung and watered, putteth
up mushrooms. And we know hartshorn is of a fat
and clammy substance : and it may be ox-horn would
do the like.

550. IT hath been reported, though it be scarce
credible, that ivy hath grown out of a stag's horn ;
which they suppose did rather come from a confrica-
tion of the horn upon the ivy, than from the horn
itself. There is not known any substance but earth,
and the procedures of earth, as tile, stone, etc. that
yieldeth any moss or herby substance. There may be
trial made of some seeds, as that of fennel seed, mus-
tard-seed, and rape-seed, put into some little holes
made in the horns of stags, or oxen, to see if they
will grow.

551. THERE is also another imperfect plant, that
in shew is like a great mushroom: and it is sometimes
as broad as one's hat; which they call a toad's stool ;
but it is not esculent ; and it groweth, commonly, by
a dead stub of a tree, and likewise about the roots of
rotten trees: and therefore seemeth to take his juice
from wood putrified. Which sheweth, by the way,
that wood putrified, yieldeth a frank moisture.

552. THERE is a cake that groweth upon the side
of a dead tree, that hath gotten no name, but it is
large, and of a chesnut colour, and hard and pithy ;
whereby it should seem, that even dead trees forget
not their putting forth ; no more than the carcases of
mens bodies, that put forth hair and nails for a time.

553. THERE is a cod, or bag, that groweth com-
monly in the fields; that at the first is hard like a
tennis-ball, and white ; and after groweth of a mush-
room colour, and full of light dust upon the breaking;
and is thought to be dangerous for the eyes if the

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 433

powder get into them ; and to be good for kibes. Be-
like it hatb a corrosive and fretting nature.

554. THERE is an herb called Jews-ear, that grow-
eth upon the roots and lower parts of the bodies of
trees; especially of elders, and sometimes ashes. It
hath a strange property ; for in warm water it swell-
eth, and openeth extremely. It is not green, but of
a dusky brown colour. And it is used for squinancies
and inflammations in the throat ; whereby it seemeth
to have a mollifying and lenifying virtue.

555. THERE is a kind of spungy excrescence, which
groweth chiefly upon the roots of the laser-tree ; and
sometimes upon cedar and other trees. It is very
white, and light, and friable ; which we call agaric.
It is famous in physic for the purging of tough phlegm.
And it is also an excellent opener for the liver ; but
offensive to the stomach : and in taste, it is at the first
sweet, and after bitter.

556. WE find no super-plant that is a formed plant,
but misseltoe. They have an idle tradition, that there
is a bird called a missel bird, that feedeth upon a
seed, which many times she cannot digest, and so
expelleth it whole with her excrement : which falling
upon the bough of a tree that hath some rift, putteth
forth the misseltoe. But this is a fable ; for it is not
probable that birds should feed upon what they can-
not digest. But allow that, yet it cannot be for other
reasons : for first it is found but upon certain trees ;
and those trees bear no such fruit, as may allure that
bird to sit and feed upon them. It may be, that bird
feedeth upon the misseltoe-berries, and so is often
found there ; which may have given occasion to the
tale. But that which maketh an end of the question
is, that misseltoe hath been found to put forth under
the boughs, and not only above the boughs; so it
cannot be any thing that falleth upon the bough. Mis-
seltoe groweth chiefly upon crab-trees, appletrees,
sometimes upon hazles, and rarely upon oaks ; the
misseltoe whereof is counted very medicinal. It is
ever green winter and summer; and beareth a white
glistering berry : and it is a plant utterly differing-

434- Natural History. [Cent. VI.

from the plant upon which it groweth. Two things
therefore may be certainly set down : first, that super-
fcetation must be by abundanee of sap in the bough
that putteth it forth: secondly, that that sap must be
such as the tree doth exccrn, and cannot assimilate ;
for else it would go into a bough ; and besides, it
seemeth to be more fat and unctuous than the ordi-
nary sap of the tree ; both by the berry, which is
clammy; and by that it continueth green winter and
summer, which the tree doth not.

557. THIS experiment of misseltoe may give light
to other practices. Therefore trial should be made
by ripping of the bough of a crab-tree in the bark ;
and watering of the wound every day with warm
water dunged, to see if it would bring forth missel-
toe, or any such like thing. But it were yet more
likely to try it with some other watering or anointing,
that were not so natural to the tree as water is ; as oil,
or barm of drink, etc. so they be such things as kill
not the bough.

558. IT were good to try, what plants would put
forth, if they be forbidden to put forth their natural
boughs : poll therefore a tree, and cover it some thick-
ness with clay on the top, and see what it will put
forth. I suppose it will put forth roots ; for so will a
cion, being turned down into clay : therefore, in this
experiment also, the tree should be closed with some-
what that is not so natural to the plant as clay is. Try
it with leather, or cloth, or painting, so it be not
hurtful to the tree. And it is certain, that a brake
hath been known to grow out of a pollard.

559. A MAN may count the prickles octrees to be
a kind of excrescence; for they will never be boughs,
nor bear leaves. The plants that have prickles are
thorns, black and white ; brier, rose, lemon-trees,
crab-trees, gooseberry, berberry ; these have it in the
bough : the plants that have prickles in the leaf are,
holly, juniper, whin-bush, thistle; nettles also have
a small veno.mous prickle ; so hath borage, but harm-
less. The cause must be hasty putting forth, want
of moisture, and the closeness of the bark ; for the

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 435

haste of the spirit to put forth, and the want of nou-
rishment to put forth a bough, and the closeness of
the bark, cause prickles in boughs ; and therefore they
are ever like a pyramid, for that the moisture spend-
eth after a little putting forth. And for prickles in
leaves, they come also of putting forth more juice
into the leaf than can spread in the leat smooth, and
therefore the leaves otherwise are rough as borage and
nettles are. As for the leaves of holly, they are
smooth, but never plain, but as it were with folds,
tor the same cause.

560. THERE be also plants, that though they have
no prickles, yet they have a kind of downy or velvet
rind upon their leaves ; as rose-campion, stock-gilly-
flowers, colt's-foot ; which down or knap cometh of
a subtil spirit, in a soft or fat substance. For it is
certain, that both stock-gilly-flowers and rose cam-
pions, stamped, have been applied with success to
the wrists of those that have had tertian and quar-
tan agues ; and the vapour of colt's-foot hath a
sanative virtue towards the lungs; and the leaf also is
healing in surgery.

561. ANOTHER kind of excrescence is an exudation
of plants joined with putrefaction ; as we see in oak-
apples, which are found chiefly upon theleaves of oaks,
and the like upon willows : and country people have a
kind of prediction, that if the oak-apple broken be
tull of worms, it is a sign of a pestilent year ; which
is a likely thing, because they grow of corruption.

562. THERE is also upon sweet, or other brier, a
fine tuft or brush of moss of divers colours ; which if
you cut you shall ever find full of little white worms.

Experiments in consort touching the producing of perfect
plants zvithout seed.

563. IT is certain, that earth taken out of the foun-
dations of vaults and houses, and bottoms of wells,
and then put into pots, will put forth sundry kinds of
herbs : but some time is required for the germination :
for if it be taken but from a fathom deep, it will put
forth the first year; if much deeper, not till after a
year or two.

436 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

564. THE nature of the plants growing out of
earth so taken up, doth follow the nature of the mold
itself ; as if the mold be soft and fine, it putteth forth
sort herbs ; as grass, plantain, and the like ; if the
earth be harder and coarser, it putteth forth herbs
more rough, as thistles, firs, etc.

565. IT is common experience, that where alleys
are close gravelled, the earth putteth forth the first
year knot grass, and after spire grass. The cause is,
for that the hard gravel or pebble at the first laying
will not suffer the grass to come forth upright, but
turneth it to find his way where it can ; but after that
the earth is somewhat loosened at the top, the ordi-
nary grass cometh up.

566. IT is reported, that earth being taken out of
shady and watery woods some depth, and potted,
will put forth herbs of a fat and juicy substance ; as
penny-wort, purslane, housleek, penny-royal, etc.

567. THE water also doth send forth plants that
have no roots fixed in the bottom ; but they are less
perfect plants, being almost but leaves, and those
small ones; such is that we call duckweed, which
hath a leaf no bigger than a thyme leaf, but of a
fresher green, and putteth forth a little string into the
water far from the bottom. As for the water lily, it
hath a root in the ground ; and so have a number of
other herbs that grow in ponds.

568. IT is reported by some of the ancients, and
some modern testimony likewise, that there be some
plants that grow upon the top of the sea, being sup-
posed to grow of some concretion of slime from the
\vater, where the sun beateth hot, and where the
sea stirreth little. As for alga marina, sea weed, and
enjngium> sea thistle, both have roots ; but the sea
weed under the water, the sea thistle but upon the
shore.

569. THE ancients have noted, that there are some
herbs that grow out of snow laid up close together
and putrified, and that they are all bitter ; and they
name one specially, Jlomus, which we call moth-mul-
lein. It is certain, that worms are found in snow

Ce

nt. VL] Natural History. 437

commonly, like earth-worms ; and therefore it is not
unlike, that it may likewise put forth plants.

570. THE ancients have affirmed, that there arc
some herbs that grow out of stone ; which may be,
for that it is certain that toads have been found in the
middle of a free-stone. We see also that flints, lying
above ground, gather moss ; and wall-flowers, and
some other flowers, grow upon walls ; but whether
upon the main brick or stone, or whether out of the
lime or chinks, is not well observed : for alders and
ashes have been seen to grow out of steeples ; but
they manifestly grow out of clefts ; insomuch as when
they grow big, they will disjoin the stone. And be-
sides, it is doubtful whether the mortar itself putteth
it forth, or whether some seeds be not let fall by
birds. There be likewise rock-herbs , but I suppose
those are where there is some mold or earth. It hath
likewise been found, that great trees growing upon
quarries have put down their root into the stone.

571. IN some mines in Germany, as is reported,
there grow in the bottom vegetables ; and the work
folks used to say they have magical virtue, and will
not suffer men to gather them.

572. THE sea sands seldom bear plants. Whereof
the cause is yielded by some of the ancients, for that
the sun exhaleth the moisture before it can incorpo-
rate with the earth, and yield a nourishment for the
plant. And it is affirmed also, that sand hath always
its root in clay; and that there be no veins of sand
any great depth within the earth.

573. IT is certain, that some plants put forth for
a time of their own store, without any nourishment
from earth, water, stone, etc. of which vide the ex-
periment 29.

Experiments in consort touching foreign plants.

574. IT is reported, that earth that was brought
out of the Indies and other remote countries for bal-
last of ships, cast upon some grounds in Italy, did
put forth foreign herbs, to us in Europe not known ;
and that which is more, that of their roots, barks,

VOL. i. F F

438 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

and seeds, contused together, and mingled with other
earth, and well watered with warm water, there came
forth herbs much like the other.

575. PLANTS brought out of hot countries will en-
deavour to put forth at the same time that they usually
do in their own climate ; and therefore to preserve
them, there is no more required, than to keep them
from the injury of putting back by cold. It is reported
also, that grain out of the hotter countries translated
into the colder, will be more forward than the ordi-
nary grain of the cold country. It is likely that this
will prove better in grains than in trees, for that grains
are but annual, and so the virtue of the seed is not
worn out; whereas in a tree, jt is embased by the
ground to which it is removed.

576. MANY plants which grow in the hotter coun-
ties, being set in the colder, will nevertheless, even
in those cold countries, being sown of seeds late in
the spring, come up and abide most part of the sum-
mer; as we find it in orange and lemon seeds, etc.
the seeds whereof sown in the end of April will bring
forth excellent sallads, mingled with other herbs. And
I doubt not, but the seeds of clove-trees, and pepper
seeds, etc. if they could come hither green enough to
be sown, would do the like.

Experiments in -consort touching the $caso?is in which
plants come forth.

577. THERE be some flowers, blossoms, grains, and
fruits, which come more early, and others which
come more late in the year. The flowers that come
early with us are primroses, violets, anemonies, wa-
ter-daffadillies, crocus vernus, and some early tulips.
And they are all cold plants ; which therefore, as it
should seem, have a quicker perception of the heat of
the sun increasing than the hot herbs have ; as a cold
hand will sooner find a little warmth than an hot.
Aiid those that come next after, are wall-flowers, cow-
slips, hyacinths, rosemary flowers, etc. and alter them
pinks, roses, flower-de-luces, etc. and the latest are
gilly-flowers, holyoaks, larksfoot, etc. The earliest

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 439

blossoms are the blossoms of peaches, almonds, corne-
lians, mezcrions, etc. and they are of such trees as
have much moisture, either watery or oily. And
therefore crocus vernus also, being an herb that hath
an oily juice, putteth forth early; for those also find
the sun sooner than the drier trees. The grains are,
first rye and wheat; then oats and barley; then peas
and beans. For though green peas and beans be
eaten sooner, yet the dry ones that are used for horse-
meat, are ripe last ; and it seemeth that the fatter
grain cometh first. The earliest fruits are strawber-
ries, cherries, gooseberries, currants; and after them
early apples, early pears, apricots, rasps ; and after
them, damascenes, and most kind of plums, peaches,
etc. and the latest are apples, wardens, grapes, nuts,
quinces, almonds, sloes, brier berries, hips, medlars,
services, cornelians, etc.

578. IT is to be noted, that, commonly, trees that
ripen latest, blossom soonest ; as peaches, cornelians,
sloes, almonds, etc. and it seemeth to be a work of
providence that they blossom so soon ; for otherwise
they could not have the sun long enough to ripen.

579. THERE be fruits, but rarely, that come twice
a year ; as some pears, strawberries, etc. And it seem-
eth they are such as abound with nourishment ; where-
by after one period, before the sun waxeth too weak,
they can endure another. The violet also, amongst
flowers, cometh twice a year, especially the double
white; and that also is a plant full of moisture. Roses
come twice, but it is not without cutting, as hath
been formerly said.

580. IN Muscovy, though the corn come not up
till late spring, yet their harvest is as early as ours.
The cause is, for that the strength of the ground is
kept in with the snow; and we see with us, that if
it be a long winter, it is commonly a more plentiful
year: and after those kind of winters likewise, the
flowers and corn, which are earlier and later, do come
commonly at once, and at the same time ; which
troubleth the husbandman many times; for you shall
have red roses and damask roses come together j and

FF2

440 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

likewise the harvest of wheat and barley. But this
happeneth ever, for that the earlier stayeth for the
later ; and not that the later cometh sooner.

581. THERE be divers fruit trees in the hot countries,
which have blossoms, and young fruit, and ripe fruit,
almost all the year, succeeding one another. And it
is said the orange hath the like with us, for a great
part of summer ; and so also hath the fig. And no
doubt the natural motion of plants is to have so ; but
that either they want juice to spend; or they meet
with the cold o'f the winter: and therefore this circle
of ripening cannot be but in succulent plants and hot
countries.

582. SOME herbs are but annual, and die, root and
all, once a year; as borage, lettuce, cucumbers, musk-
melons, basil, tobacco, mustard-seed, and all kinds of
corn : some continue many years ; as hyssop, ger-
mander, lavender, fennel, etc. The cause of the dy-
ing is double ; the first is the tenderness and weakness
of the seed, which maketh the period in a small time ;
as it is in borage, lettuce, cucumbers, corn, etc. and
therefore none of these are hot. The other cause is,
for that some herbs can worse endure cold ; as basil,
tobacco, mustard-seed. And these have all much
heat.

Experiments in consort touching the lasting of herbs
and trees.

583. THE lasting of plants is most in those that are
largest of body; as oaks, elm, chestnut, the loat-tree,
etc. and this holdeth in trees -, but in herbs it is often
contrary : for borage, colewort, pompions, which are
herbs of the largest size, are of small durance ; whereas
hyssop, winter savoury, germander, thyme, sage, will
last long. The cause is, for that trees last according
to the strength and quantity of their sap and juice ;
being well munited by their bark against the injuries
of the air: but herbs draw a weak juice, and have a
soft stalk ; and therefore those amongst them which
last longest, are herbs of strong smell, and with a
sticky stalk.

;

Cent. VI.] Natural History.

58-K TREES that bear mast, and nuts, are com-
monly more lasting than those that bear fruits ; espe-
cially the moister fruits : as oaks, beeches, chestnuts,
walnuts, almonds, pine trees, etc. last longer than
apples, pears, plums, etc. The cause is the fatness and
oiliness of the sap ; which ever wasteth less than the
more watery.

585. TREES that bring forth their leaves late in the
year, and cast them likewise late, are more lasting
than those that sprout their leaves early, or shed them
betimes. The cause is, for that the late coming
forth sheweth a moisture more fixed ; and the other
more loose, and more easily resolved. And the same
cause is, that wild trees last longer than garden trees;
and in the same kind, those whose fruit is acid, more
than those whose fruit is sweet.

586. Nothing procureth the lasting of trees, bushes
and herbs so much as often cutting : for every cutting
causeth a renovation of the juice of the plant ; that it
neither goeth so far, nor riseth so faintly, as when the
plant is not cut ; insomuch as annual plants, if you cut
them seasonably, and will spare the use of them, and
suffer them to come up still young, will last more
years than one, as hath been partly touched ; such as is
lettuce, purslane, cucumber, and the like. And for
great trees, we see almost all overgrown trees in
church-yards, or near ancient buildings, and the like,
are pollards, or dottards, and not trees at their full
height.

587. SOME experiment should be made, how by art
o make plants more lasting than their ordinary pe-
riod ; as to make a stalk of wheat, etc. last a whole
year. You must ever presuppose, that you handle it
so as the winter killeth it not ; for we speak only of
prolonging the natural period. I conceive that the
rule will hold, that whatsoever maketh the herb come
later than its time, will make it last longer time : it
were good to try it in a stalk of wheat, etc. set in the
shade, and encompassed with a case of wood, not
touching the straw, to keep out open air.

As for the preservation of fruits and plants, as well

442 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

upon the tree or stalk, as gathered, we shall handle it
under the title of conservation of bodies.

Experiments in consort touching the several Jigures of

plants.

588. THE particular figures of plants we leave to
their descriptions ; but some few things in general
We will observe. Trees and herbs, in the growing
forth of their boughs and branches, are not figured,
and keep no order. The cause is, for that the sap
being restrained in the rind and bark, breaketh not
forth at all, as in the bodies of trees, and stalks of
herbs, till they begin to branch ; and then when they
make an eruption, they break forth casually, where
they find best way in the bark or rind. It is true,
that some trees are more scattered in their boughs ;
as sallow-trees, warden-trees, quince-trees, medlar-
trees, lemon-trees, etc. some are more in the form of a
pyramis, and come almost to todd ; as the pear-tree,
which the critics will have to borrow his name of wvg,
fire, orange-trees, fir-trees, service-trees, lime-trees, etc.
and some are more spread and broad ; as beeches,
hornbeam, etc. the rest are more indifferent. The
cause of scattering the boughs, is the hasty breaking
forth of the sap ; and therefore those trees rise not in
a body of any height, but branch near the ground.
The cause of the pyramis is the keeping in of the sap
long before it branch ; and the spending of it, when
it beginneth to branch, by equal degrees. The spread-
ing is caused by the carrying up of the sap plentifully,
without expence ; and then putting it forth speedily
and at once.

589. THERE be divers herbs, but no trees, that may
be said to have some kind of order in the putiing
forth of their leaves : for they have joints or knuckles,
as it were stops in their germination ; as have gilly-
flowers, pinks, fennel, corn, reeds, and canes. The
cause whereof is, for that the sap ascendeth unequally,
and doth, as it were, tire and stop by the way. And
it seemeth they have some closeness and hardness in
their stalk, which hindereth the sap from going up,

:

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 443

until it hath gathered into a knot, and so is more
urged to put forth. And therefore they are most of
them hollow when the stalk is dry, as fennel-stalk,
stubble, and canes.

590. FLOWERS all have exquisite figures ; and the
flower numbers are chiefly five, and four; as in prim-
roses, brier roses, single musk roses, single pinks, and
gilly-flowers, etc. which have five leaves : lilies, flower-
de-luces, borage, bugloss, etc. which have four leaves.
But some put forth leaves not numbered ; but they
are ever small ones ; as marygold, trefoil, etc. We see
also, that the sockets and supporters of flowers are
figured -3 as in the five brethren of the rose, sockets.of
gilly-flowers, etc. Leaves also are all figured -, some
round ; some long j none square ; and many jagged on
the sides ; which leaves of flowers seldom are. For I
account the jagging of pinks and gilly-flowers, to be
like the inequality of oak leaves, or vine leaves, or
the like : but they seldom or never have any small
purls.

Experiments in consort touching some principal differences

in plants.

591. OF plants, some few put forth their blossoms
before their leaves ; as almonds, peaches, cornelians,
black thorn, etc. but most put forth some leaves be-
fore their blossoms ; as apples, pears, plums, cherries,
white thorn, etc. The cause is, for that those that put
forth their blossoms first, have either an acute and
sharp spirit, and therefore commonly they all put
forth early in the spring, and ripen very late ; as most
of the particulars before mentioned, or else an oily
juice, which is apter to put out flowers than leaves.

592. OF plants, some are green all winter ; others
cast their leaves. There are green all winter,
holly, ivy, box, fir, yew, cypress, juniper, bays, rose-
mary, etc. The cause of the holding green, is the
close and compact substance of their leaves, and the
pedicles of them. And the cause of that again is
either the tough and viscous juice of the plant, or the

trength and heat thereof. Of the first sort is holly 5

444 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

which is of so viscous a juice, as they tnake birdlime
of the bark of it. The stalk of ivy is tough, and not
fragile, as we see in other small twigs dry. Fir
yieldeth pitch. Box is a fast and heavy wood, as we
see it in bowls. Yew is a strong and tough wood, as
we see it in bows. Of the second sort is juniper,
which is a wood odorate , and maketh a hot fire.
Bays is likewise a hot and aromatical wood ; and so
is rosemany for a shrub. As for the leaves, their
density appeareth, in that either they are smooth and
shining, as in bays, holly, ivy, box, etc. or in that
they are hard and spiry, as in the rest. And trial
should be made of grafting of rosemary, and bays, and
box, upon a holly-stock ; because they are plants that
come all winter. It were good to try it also with
grafts of other trees, either fruit trees, or wild trees ;
to see whether they will not yield their fruit, or bear
their leaves later and longer in the winter ; because
the sap of the holly putteth forth most in the winter.
It may be also a mezerion-tree, grafted upon a holly,
will prove both an earlier and a greater tree.

593. THERE be some plants that bear no flower,
and yet bear fruit : there be some that bear flowers
and no fruit : there be some that bear neither flowers
nor fruit. Most of the great timber trees, as oaks,
beeches, etc. bear no apparent flowers ; some fe\v
likewise of the fruit trees ; as mulberry, walnut, etc.
and some shrubs, as juniper, holly, etc. bear no flowers.
Divers herbs also bear seeds, which is as the fruit,
and yet bear no flowers ; as purslane, etc. Those that
bear flowers and no fruit are few ; as the double cherry,
the sallow, etc. But for the cherry, it is doubtful
whether it be not by art or culture ; for if it be by
art, then trial should be made, whether apple; and
other fruits blossoms, may not be doubled. There are
some few that bear neither fruit nor flower $ as the
elm, the poplars, box, brakes, etc,

594. THERE be some plants that shoot still upwards,
and can support themselves ; as the greatest part of
trees and plants : there be some other that creep
along the ground > or wind about other trees or props,

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 445

and cannot support themselves ; as vines, ivy, brier,
briony, woodbines, hops, climatis, camomile, etc. The
cause is, as hath been partly touched, for that all
plants naturally * move upwards; but if the sap put
up too fast, it maketh a slender stalk, which will
not support the weight : and therefore these latter sort
are all swift and hasty comers,

Experiments in consort touching all manner of composts 9
and helps of ground.

595. THE first and most ordinary help is stercora-
tion. The sheeps dung is one of the best ; and next
the dung of kine : and thirdly, that of horses, which
is held to be somewhat too hot unless it be mingled.
That of pigeons for a garden, or a small quantity of
ground, excelleth. The ordering of dung is, if the
ground be arable, to spread it immediately before
the ploughing and sowing ; and so to plough it in :
for if you spread it long before, the sun will draw
out much of the fatness of the dung : if the ground
be grazing ground, to spread it somewhat late towards

1 winter ; that the sun may have the less power to dry
it up. As for special composts for gardens, as a hot
bed, etc. we have handled them before.

596. THE second kind of compost is, the spreading
of divers kinds of earths ; as marie, chalk, sea sand,
earth upon earth, pond earth ; and the mixtures of
them. Marie is thought to be the best, as having
most fatness ; and not heating the ground too much.
The next is sea sand, which no doubt obtaineth a
special virtue by the salt : for salt is the first rudi-
ment of life. Chalk over-heateth the ground a little ;
and therefore is best upon cold clay grounds, or moist
grounds : but I heard a great husband say that it
was a common error, to think that chalk helpeth
arable grounds, but helpeth not grazing grounds ;
whereas indeed it helpeth grass as well as corn : but
that which breedeth the error is, because after the
chalking of the ground they wear it out with many
crops without rest ; and then indeed afterwards it

ill bear little grass, because the ground is tired out.

446 Natural History. [Cent. VI,

It vrere good to try tta laying of chalk upon arable
grounds a little while before ploughing ; and to
plough it in as they do the dung ; but then it must be
friable first by rain or lying. As for earth, it com-
posteth itself; for I knew a great garden that had a
field, in a manner, poured upon it; and it did bear
fruit excellently the first year of the planting: for the
surface of the earth is ever the fruitful lest. And earth
so prepared hath a double surface. But it is true, as
I conceive, that such earth as hath salt-petre bred in it,
if you can procure it without too much charge, doth
excel. The way to hasten the breeding of salt-petre,
•is to forbid the sun, and the growth of vegetables.
And therefore if you make a large hovel, thatched,
over some quantity of ground ; nay, if you do but
plank the ground over, it will breed salt-petre. As
for pond earth or river earth, it is a very good com-
post ; especially if the pond have been longuncleansed,
and so the water be not too hungry : and I judge it
will be yet better if there be some mixture of chalk.

597. THE third help of ground is, by some other
substances that have a virtue to make ground fertile,
though they be not merely earth ; wherein ashes ex-
cel ; insomuch as the countries about /Etna and Vesu-
vius have a kind of amends made them, for the mischief
the eruptions many times do, by the exceeding fruit-
fulness of the soil, caused by the ashes scattered about.
Soot also, though thin spread in a field or garden, is
tried to be a very good compost. For salt is too cost-
ly ; but it is tried, that mingled with seed-corn, and
sown together, it doth good : and I am of opinion,
that chalk in powder, mingled with seed-corn, would
do good ; perhaps as much as chalking the ground all
over. As for the steeping of the seeds in several mix-
tures with water to give them vigour, or watering
grounds with compost-water, we have spoken of
them before.

598. THE fourth help of ground is, the suffering of
vegetables to die into the ground, and so to fatten it ;
as the stubble of corn, especially peas. Brakes cast
upon the ground in the beginning of winter, will make

Cent. VI.] Natural History. 447

it very fruitful. It were good also to try whether
leaves of trees swept together, with some chalk and
dung mixed, to give them more heart, would not make
a good compost ; for there is nothing lost so much as
leaves of trees ; and as they lie scattered, and without
mixture, they rather make the ground sour than other-
wise.

599. THE fifth help of ground is, heat and warmth.
It hath been anciently practised to burn heath, and
ling, and sedge, with the vantage of the wind, upon
the ground. We see that warmth of walls and inclo-
sures mendeth ground : we see also, that lying
open to the south mendeth ground : we see again,
that the foldings of sheep help ground, as well by their
warmth as by their compost : and it may be doubted,
whether the covering of the ground with brakes in the
beginning of the winter, whereof we spake in the last
experiment, helpeth it not, by reason of the warmth.
Nay, some very good husbands do suspect, that the
gathering up of flints in flinty ground, and laying them
on heaps, which is much used, is no good husbandry,
for that they would keep the ground warm.

600. THE sixth help of ground is by watering and
irrigation; which is in two manners ; the one by let-
ting in and shutting out waters at seasonable times :
for water at some seasons, and with reasonable stay,
doth good; but at some other seasons, and with too
long stay, doth hurt: and this serveth only for mea-
dows which are along some river. The other way is,
to bring water from some hanging grounds, where
there are springs, into the lower grounds, carrying it
in some long furrows; and from those furrows, draw-
ing it traverse to spread the water. And this maketh
an excellent improvement, both for corn and grass. It
is the richer, if those hanging grounds be fruitful, be-
cause it washeth off some of the fatness of the earth ;
but howsoever it protiteth much. Generally where
there are great overflows in fens, or the like, the
drowning of them in the winter maketh the summer
following more fruitful : the cause may be, for that it

443 Natural History. [Cent. VI.

keepeth the ground warm, and nourisheth it. But
the ten-men hold that the sewers must be kept so as
the water may not stay too long in the spring till the
weeds and sedge be grown up; for then the ground
will be like a wood, which keepeth out the sun, and
so continucth the wet ; whereby it will never graze to
purpose that year. Thus much for irrigation. But
for avoidances, and drainings of water, where there is
too much, and the helps of ground in that kind, we
shall speak of them in another place.

[ 449 ]
NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY VII.

Experiments in consort touching the affinities and dif-
ferences between plants and inanimate bodies.

601. 1 HE differences between animate and inani-
mate bodies, ^we shall handle fully under the title of
life, and living spirits, and powers. We shall there-
fore make but a brief mention of them in this place.
The main differences are two. All bodies have spi-
rits, and pneumatical parts within them; but the
main differences between animate and inanimate, are
two : the first is, that the spirits of things animate are
all continued with themselves, and are branched in
veins, and secret canals, as blood is : and in living
creatures, the spirits have not only branches, but cer-
tain cells or seats, where the principal spirits do reside,
and whereunto the rest do resort : but the spirits in
things inanimate are shut in, and cut off by the tangi-
ble parts, and are not pervious one to another, as air
is in snow. The second main difference is, that the
spirits of animate bodies are all in some degree, more
or less, kindled and inflamed ; and have a fine com-
mixture of flame, and an aerial substance. But ina-
nimate bodies have their spirits no whit inflamed or
kindled. And this difference consisteth not in the
heat or coolness of spirits ; for cloves and other
spices, iiaptha and petroleum, have exceeding hot spi-
rits, hotter a great deal than oil, wax, or tallow, etc.
but not inflamed. And when any of those weak
and temperate bodies come to be inflamed, then they
gather a much greater heat than others have unin-
fiamed, besides their light and motion, etc.

602. THE differences, which are secondary, and
proceed from these two radical differences, are, first,

450 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

plants are allfigurate and determinate, which inanimate
bodies are not ; for look how tar the spirit is able to
spread and continue itself, so far goetb the shape or
figure, and then is determined. Secondly, plants do
nourish ; inanimate bodies do not : they have an ac-
cretion, but no alimentation. Thirdly, plants have a
period of life, which inanimate bodies have not.
Fourthly, they have a succession and propagation of
their kind, which is not in bodies inanimate.

603. THE differences between plants and metals or
fossils, besides those four before mentioned, for metals
I hold inanimate, are these : first, metals are more
durable than plants: secondly, they are more solid
and hard: thirdly, they are wholly subterrany;
whereas plants are part above earth, and part under
earth.

604. THERE be very few creatures that participate
of the nature of plants and metals both ; coral is one
of the nearest of both kinds : another is vitriol, for
that is aptest to sprout with moisture.

605. ANOTHER special affinity is between plants and
mold or putrefaction : for all putrefaction, if it dissolve
not in arefaction, will in the end issue into plants, or liv-
ing creatures bred of putrefaction. I account moss,
and mushrooms, and agaric, and other of those kinds,
to be but molds of the ground, walls, and trees, and
the like. As for flesh, and fish, and plants themselves,
and a number of other things, after a moldiness, or
rottenness, or corrupting, they will fall to breed
worms. These putrefactions, which have affinity with
plants, have this difference from them ; that they have
no succession or propagation, though they nourish,
and have a period of life, and have likewise some
figure.

606. I LEFT once by chance a citron cut, in a close
room, for three summer months that I was absent ;
and at my return there were grown forth, out of the
pith cut, tufts of hairs an inch long, with little black
heads, as if they would have been some herb.

Cent. VII.] Natural History.

Experiments in cojisort touching the affinities and dif-
ferences of plants and living creatures, and the con-
Jitters and participles of them.

607. THE affinities and differences between plants
and living creatures are these that follow. They have
both of them spirits continued, and branched, and also
inflamed. But first in living creatures, the spirits
have a cell or seat, which plants have not, as was
also formerly said. And secondly, the spirits of living
creatures hold more of flame than the spirits of plants
do. And these two are the radical differences. For
the secondary differences, they are as follow: — First,
plants are all fixed to the earth, whereas all living
creatures are severed, and of themselves. Secondly,
living creatures have local motion, plants have not.
Thirdly, living creatures nourish from their upper
parts, by the mouth chiefly ; plants nourish from be-
low, namely, from the roots. Fourthly, plants have
their seed and seminal parts uppermost ; living crea-
tures have them lowermost : and therefore it was said,
not elegantly alone, but philosophically ; Homo est
plant a inversa ; Man is like a plant turned upwards :
for the root in plants is as the head in living crea-
tures. Fifthly, living creatures have a more exact
figure than plants. Sixthly, living creatures have
more diversity of organs within their bodies, and, as
it were, inward figures, than plants have. Seventhly,
living creatures have sense, which plants have not.
Eighthly, living creatures have voluntary motion,
which plants have not.

608. FOR the difference of sexes in plants, they
are oftentimes by name distinguished ; as male-piony,
female-piony ; male rosemary, female rosemary ; he-
holly, she-holly, etc. but generation by copulation
certainly extendcth not to plants. The nearest ap-
proach of it is between the he-palm and the she-
palm, which, as they report, if they grow near, incline
the one to the other ; insomuch as, that which is more
strange, they doubt not to report, that to keep the
trees upright from bending, they tie ropes or lines
from the one to the other, that the contact might be

452 Natural IL'sfoiy, [Cent. VII.

enjoyed by the contact of a middle body. But this
may be feigned, or at least amplified. Nevertheless
I am apt enough to think, that this same binarium
of a stronger and a weaker, like unto masculine and
feminine, doth hold in all living bodies. It is con-
founded sometimes; as in some creatures of putrefac-
tion, wherein no marks of distinction appear: and it
is doubled sometimes, as in hermaphrodites : but ge-
nerally there is a degree of strength in most species.

609. THE participles or connhers between plants
and living creatures, are such chiefly as are fixed, and
have no local motion of remove, though they have a
motion in their parts ; such as are oisters, cockles, and
such like. There is a fabulous narration, that in the
northern countries there should be an herb that growcth
in the likeness of a lamb, and feedeth upon the grass,
in such sort as it will bare the grass round about. But
I suppose that the figure maketh the fable ; for so, we
see, there be bee-flowers, etc. And as for the grass,
it seemeth the plant having a great stalk and top doth
prey upon the grass a good way about, by drawing
the juice of the earth from it.

Experiments promiscuous touching plants .

610. THE Indian fig boweth its roots down so low
in one year, as of itself it taketh root again ; and so
multiplieth from root to root, making of one tree a
a kind of wood. The cause is the plenty of the sap,
and the softness of the stalk, which maketh the bough,
being over-loaden, and not stiffly upheld, weigh down.
It hath leaves as broad as a little target, but the fruit
no bigger than beans. The cause is, for that the
continual shade increaseth the leaves, and abateth the
fruit, which nevertheless is of a pleasant taste. And
that no doubt is caused by the suppleness and gentle-
ness of the juice of that plant, being that which
maketh the boughs also so flexible.

61 1. IT is reported by one of the ancients, that there
is a certain Indian tree, having few but very great
leaves, three cubits long and two broad ; and that the
fruit, being of good taste, groweth out of the bark.

454 Natural Hislriry. [Cent. VII,

whereof they make nettle-cloth, sericum, which is a
growing silk ; they make also cables of the bark of
lime-trees. It is the stalk that maketh the filaceous
matter commonly j and sometimes the down that
groweth above.

615. THEY have in some countries a plant of a rosy
colour, which shutteth in the night, openeth in the
morning, and openeth wide at noon ; which the in-
habitants of those countries say is a plant that sleep-
eth. There be sleepers enough then; for almost all
flowers do the like.

616. SOME plants there are, but rare, that have a
mossy^ or downy root ; and likewise that have a nun>
ber of threads, like beards; as mandrakes; whereof
witches and impostures make an ugly image, giving
it the form of a face at the top of the root, and leav-
ing those strings to make a broad beard down to the
foot. Also there is a kind of nard in Crete, being a
kind of phuy that hath a root hairy, like a rough-
footed dove's foot. So as you may see, there are of
roots, bulbous roots, fibrous roots, and hirsute roots.
And, I take it, in the bulbous, the sap hasteneth
most to the air and sun : in the fibrous, the sap de-
lighteth more in the earth, and therefore putteth
downward'; and the hirsute is a middle between both^
that besides the putting forth upwards and down-
wards, putteth forth in round.

617. THERE are some tears of trees, which ar£
combed from the beards of goats: for when the goats
bite and crop them, especially in the mornings, the
dew being on, the tear cometh forth, and hangeth
upon their beards : of this sort is some kind of lau-
danum.

618. THE irrigation of the plane-tree by wine, is
reported by the ancients to make it fruitful* It should
be tried likewise with roots; for upon seeds it work-
cth no great effects.

619. THE way to carry foreign roots a long way,
is to vessel them close in earthen vessels. But if the
vessels be not very great, you must make some holes
in the ''bottom, to give some refreshment to the roots j

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 455

\vhich otherwise, as it scemcth, will decay and suf-
focate.

620. THE ancient cinnamon was, of all other plants,
\vhile it grew, the driest; and those things which are
known to comfort other plants, did make that more
storil ; for in showers it prospered worst : it grew also
amongst bushes of other kinds, where commonly plants
do not thrive ; neither did it love the sun* There
might be one cause of all those effects; namely, the
sparing nourishment which that plant required. Query,
how far cassia, which is now the substitute oi cinna-
mon, doth participate of these things ?

621. IT is reported by one of the ancients, that
cassia, when it is gathered, is put into the skins of

>easts newly flayed ; and that the skins corrupting
ind breeding worms, the worms do devour the pith
ind marrow of it, and so make it hollow ; but meddle
lot with the bark, because to them it is bitter.

622. THERE were in ancient time vines of far
;rcater bodies than we know any ; for there have
>een cups made of them, and an image of Jupiter.

But it is like they were wild vines ; for the vines that
they use for wine, are so often cut, and so much
digged and dressed, that their sap spendeth into the
grapes, and so the stalk cannot increase much in bulk.
The wood of vines is very durable, without rotting.
And that which is strange, though no tree hath the
twigs, while they are green, so brittle, yet the wood
dried is extreme tough ; and was used by the captains
of armies amongst the Romans tor their cudgels.

623. IT is reported, that in some places vines are
mffered to grow like herbs, spreading upon the
ground ; and that the grapes of those vines are very
great. It were good to make trial, whether plants
that use to be borne up by props, will not put forth
greater leaves and greater fruits if they be laid along
the ground; as hops, ivy, woodbine, etc.

624. QUINCES, or apples, etc. if you will keep them
long, drown them in honey ; but because honey, per-
haps, will give them a taste over luscious, it were
good to make trial in powder of sugar, or in syrup

G G 2

456 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

of wine, only boiled to height. Both these should
likewise be tried in oranges, lemons, and pomegra-
nates ; for the powder of sugar, and syrup of wine,
will serve for more times than once.

625. THE conservation of fruit should be also tried
in vessels rilled with fine sand, or with powder of chalk,
or in meal and flour ; or in dust of oak wood ; or
in mill.

626. SUCH fruits as you appoint for long keeping,
you must gather before they be full ripe ; and in a fair
and dry day towards noon ; and when the wind blow-
eth not south ; and when the moon is under the earth,
and in decrease.

627. TAKE grapes, and hang them in an empty
vessel well stopped ; and set the vessel not in a cellar,
but in some dry place ; and it is said they will last
long. But it is reported by some, they will keep
better in a vessel half full of wine, so that the grapes
touch not the wine.

628. IT is reported, that the preserving of the stalk
helpeth to preserve the grape ; especially if the stalk
be put into the pith of alder, the alder not touching
the fruit.

629. IT is reported by some of the ancients, that
fruit put in bottles, and the bottles let down into wells
under water, will keep long.

630. OF herbs and plants, some are good to eat
raw ; as lettuce, endive, purslane, tarragon, cresses,
cucumbers, musk-melons, radish, etc. others only after
they are boiled, or have passed the fire ; as parsley,
clary, sage, parsnips, turnips, asparagus, artichokes,
.though they also being young, are eaten raw : but a
number of herbs are not esculent at all ; as worm-
wood, grass, green corn, centaury, hyssop, lavender,
balm, ttc. The causes are, for that the herbs that
are not esculent, do want the two tastes in which
nourishment resteth ; which are fat and sweet ; and
have, contrariwise, bitter and over-strong tastes, or
a juice so crude as cannot be ripened to the degree of

. nourishment. Herbs and plants that are esculent raw,
have fatness or sweetness, as all esculent fruits ; such

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 457

are onions, lettuce, etc. But then it must be such a
fatness, for as for sweet things, they are in effect al-
ways esculent, as is not over-gross, and loading of the
stomach : for parsnips and leeks have fatness ; but it
is too gross and heavy without boiling. It must be
also in a substance somewhat tender ; for we see
wheat, barley, artichokes, are no good nourishment
till they have passed the fire ; but the fire doth ripen,
and maketh them soft and tender, and so they become
esculent. As for radish and tarragon, and the like,
they are for condiments, and not for nourishment.
And even some of those herbs which are not esculent,
are notwithstanding poculent ; as hops, broom, etc.
Query, what herbs are good for drink besides the two
aforenamed ; for that it may, perhaps, ease the charge
of brewing, if they make beer to require less malt, or
make it last longer.

63 1 . PARTS fit for the nourishment of man in plants
are, seeds, roots, and fruits; but chiefly seeds and
roots. For leaves, they give no nourishment at all,
or very little : no more do flowers, or blossoms, or
stalks. The reason is, for that roots, and seeds, and
fruits, inasmuch as all plants consist of an oily and
watery substance commixed, have more of the oily
substance ; and leaves, flowers, etc. of the watery.
And secondly, they are more concocted ; for the
root which continuetb ever in the earth, is still
concocted by the earth ; and fruits and grains we see
are half a year or more in concocting -y whereas leaves
are out and perfect in a month.

632. PLANTS, for the most part, are more strong
both in taste and smell in the seed, than in the leaf
and root. The cause is, for that in plants that are
not of a fierce and eager spirit, the virtue is increased
by concoction and maturation, which is ever most in
the seed ; but in plants that are of a fierce and eager
spirit, they are stronger whilst the spirit is inclosed in
the root ; and the spirits do but weaken and dissipate
when they come to the air and sun ; as we see it in
onions, garlick, dragon, etc. Nay, there be plants
that have their roots very hot and aromatical, and

453 Natural History. [Cent. VIL

their seeds rather insipid ; as ginger. The cause is,
as was touched before, for that the heat of those plants
is very dissipable; which under the earth is contained
and held ins but when it cometh to the air it ex-
haleth.

633. THE juices of fruits are either watery or oily.
I reckon among the watery, all the fruits out of which
drink is expressed ; as the grape, the apple, the pear,
the cherry, the pomegranate, etc. And there are some
others which, though they be not in use for drink,
yet they appear to be of the same nature -, as plums,
services, mulberries, rasps, oranges, lemons, etc . and
for those juices that are so fleshy, as they cannot make
drink by expression, yet, perhaps, they may make
drink by mixture of water.

Poculaque admistis imitantur vitea sorbis.
And it may be hips and brier-berries would do the
like. Those that have oily juices, are olives, almonds,
nuts of all sorts, pineapples, etc. and their juices are
all inflammable. And you must observe also, that
some of the watery juices, after they have gathered
spirit, will burn and inflame; as wine. There is a
third kind of fruit that is sweet, without either sharp-
ness or oiliness: such as is the fig and the date.

634. IT hath been noted, that most trees, and
specially those that bear mast, are fruitful but once
in two years. The cause, no doubt, is the expence
of sap ; for many orchard trees, well cultMred, wilj
bear divers years together,

635. THERE is no tree, which besides the natural
fruit doth bear so many bastard fruits as the oak doth :
for besides the acorn, it beareth galls, oak apples,
and certain oak nuts, which are inflammable ; and
certain oak berries, sticking close to the body of the
tree without stalk. Jt beareth also misseltoe, though
rarely. The cause of all these may be, the closeness
and solid ness of the wood and pith of the oak,
which maketh several juices find several eruptions.
And therefore if you will devise to make any super-
plants, you must ever give the sap plentiful rising and
hard issue.

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 459

636. THERE are two excrescences which grow
upon trees ; both of them in the nature of mushrooms :
the one the Romans call boletus; which groweth
upon the roots of oaks ; and was one of the dainties
of their table ; the other is medicinal, that is called
agaric, whereof we have spoken before, which groweth
upon the tops of oaks ; though it be affirmed by some,
that it groweth also at the roots. I do conceive, that
many excrescences of trees grow chiefly where the
tree is dead or faded ; for that the natural sap of the
tree corrupted! into some preternatural substance.

637. THE greater part of trees bear most and
best on the lower boughs; as oaks, figs, walnuts,
pears, etc. but some bear best on the top boughs ; as
cfabs, etc. Those that bear best below, are such as
shade doth more good to than hurt. For generally all
fruits bear best lowest; because the sap tireth not,
having but a short way : and therefore in fruits spread
upon walls, the lowest are the greatest, as was for-
merly said : so it is the shade that hindereth the
lower boughs ; except it be in such trees as delight
in shade, or at least bear it well. And therefore they
are either strong trees, as the oak ; or else they have
large leaves, as the walnut and fig ; or else they grow
in pyramids, as the pear. But if they require very
much sun, they bear best on the top ; as it is in crabs,
apples, plums, etc.

638. THERE be trees that bear best when they begin
to be old; as almonds, pears, vines, and all trees
that give mast. The cause is, for that all trees that
bear mast, have an oily fruit ; and young trees have
a more watery juice, and less concocted ; and of the
same kind also is the almond. The pear likewise,
though it be not oily, yet it requireth much sap, and
well concocted ; for we see it is a heavy fruit and
solid; much more than apples, plums, etc. As for
the vine, it is noted, that it beareth more grapes when
it is young ; but grapes that make better wine when
it is old ; tor that the juice is better concocted : and
we -see that wine is inflammable ; so as it hath a kind
of oiliness. But the most part of trees, amongst

460 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

which are apples, plums, etc. bear best when they
are young.

639. THERE be plants that have a milk in them
when they are cut ; as figs, old lettuce, sow-thistles,
spurge, etc. The cause may be an inception of putre-
faction : for those milks have all an acrimony : though
one would think they should be lenitive. For if you
write upon paper with the milk of the fig, the letters
will not be seen, until you hold the paper before the
fire, and then they wax brown ; which sheweth that
it is sharp or fretting juice : lettuce is thought poison-
ous, when it is so old as to have milk ; spurge is a
kind of poison in itself; apd as for sow-thistles, though
coneys eat them, yet sheep and cattle will not touch
them : and besides, the milk of them rubbed upon
warts, in short time weareth them away; which she\v^
eth the milk of them to be corrosive. We see also that
wheat and other corn, sown, if you take them forth
of the ground before they sprout, are full of milk ;
and the beginning of germination is ever a kind of
putrefaction of the seed, Euphorbium also hath a
milk, though not very white, which is of a great acri-
mony : and salladine hath a yellow milk, which hath
likewise much acrimony ; for it cleanseth the eyes.
It is good also for cataracts.

640. MUSHROOMS are reported to grow, as well
upon the bodies of trees, as upon their roots, or upon
the earth ; and especially upon the oak. The cause is,
for that strong trees are towards such excrescences in
the nature of earth ; and therefore put forth moss,
mushrooms, and the like,

641. THERE is hardly found a plant that yieldeth
a red juice in the blade or ear ; except it be the tree
that beareth sanguis draconis ; which grovveth chiefly
in the island Socotra : the herb amaranthus indeed is
red all over ; and brazil is red in the wood : apd so is
red sanders. The tree of the sqnguis draconis groweth in
the form of a sugar-loaf. It is like the sap of that plant
concocteth in the body of the tree. For we see that
grapes and pomegranates are red in the juice, but are
green in the tear ; and this maketh the tree of sanguis

Cent. VII.] Natural History.

draconis lesser towards the top ; because the juice hast-
eneth not up ; and besides, it is very astringent ; and
therefore of slow motion.

642. IT is reported, that sweet moss, besides that
upon the apple trees, groweth likewise sometimes
upon poplars ; and yet generally the poplar is a smooth
tree of bark, and hath little moss. The moss of the
larix-tree burneth also sweet, and sparkleth in the
burning. Query of the mosses of odorate trees ; as
cedar, Cyprus, lignum aloes, etc.

643. THE death that is most without pain, hath
been noted to be upon the taking of the potion of
hemlock ; which in humanity was the form of exe-
cution of capital offenders in Athens. The poison of
the asp, that Cleopatra used, hath some affinity with
it. The cause is, for that the torments of death are
chiefly raised by the strife of the spirits ; and these
vapours quench the spirits by degrees ; like to the
death of an extreme old man. I conceive it is less
painful than opium, because opium hath parts of heat
mixed.

644. THERE be fruits that are sweet before they be
ripe, as mirobalanes ; so fennel seeds are sweet before
they ripen, and after grow spicy. And some never
ripen to be sweet ; as tamarinds, berberries, crabs,
sloes, etc. The cause is, for that the former kind have
much and subtle heat, which causeth early sweetness;
the latter have a cold and acid juice, which no heat
of the sun can sweeten. But as for the myrobalane,
it hath parts of contrary natures ; for it is sweet and
yet astringent.

645. THERE be few herbs that have a salt taste ;
and contrariwise all blood of living creatures hath a
saltness. The cause may be, for that salt, though it
be the rudiment of life, yet in plants the original taste
remaineth not ; for you shall have them bitter, sour,
sweet, biting, but seldom salt ; but in living creatures,
all those high tastes may happen to be sometimes in
the humours, but are seldom in the flesh or substance,
because it is of a more oily nature ; which is not very
susceptible of those tastes -, and the saltness itself of

462 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

blood is but a light and secret saltness ; and even
among plants, some do participate of saltness, as alga
marina, samphire, scurvy-grass, etc. And they report,
there is in some of the Indian seas a swimming plant,
which they call salgazus, spreading over the sea
in such sort, as one would think it were a meadow.
It is certain, that out of the ashes of all plants they
extract a salt which they use in medicines.

646. Ir is reported by one of the ancients, that
there is an herb growing in the water, called lincostis,
which is full of prickles : this herb putteth forth
another small herb out of the leaf; which is imputed
to some moisture that is gathered between the
prickles, which putrified by the sun germinateth. But
I remember also I have seen, for a great rarity, one
rose grow out of another like honeysuckles, that they
call top and top-gallants.

647. BARLEY, as appeareth in the malting, being
steeped in water three days, and afterwards the water
drained from it, and the barley turned upon a dry
floor, will sprout half an inch long at least : and if it
be let alone, and not turned, much more ; until the
heart be out. Wheat will do the same. Try it also
with pease and beans. This experiment is not like
that of the orpine and semper-vive ; for there it is of
the old store, for no water is added ; but here it is
nourished from the water. The experiment should
be farther driven : for it appeareth already, by that
which hath been said, that earth is not necessary to
the first sprouting of plants ; and we see that rose-
buds set in water will blow : therefore try whether
the sprouts of such grains may not be raised to a
farther degree, as to an herb or flower, with water
only, or some small commixture of earth : for if they
will, it should seem by the experiments before, both
of the malt and of the roses, that they will come far
faster on in water than in earth ; for the nourishment
is easilier drawn out of water than out of earth. It
may give some light also, that drink infused with
flesh, as that with the capon, etc. will nourish faster
a-nd-casilicr than meat and drink together. Try the

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 463

same experiment with roots as well as with grains :
as for example, take a turnip, and steep it a while,
and then dry it, and see whether it will sprout.

648. MALT in the drenching will swell ; and that
in such a manner, as after the putting forth in sprouts,
and the drying upon the kiln, there will be gained at
least a bushel in eight, and yet the sprouts are rubbed
off; and there will be a bushel of dust besides the
malt : which I suppose to be, not only by the loose
and open lying of the parts, but by some addition of
substance drawn from the water in which it was
steeped.

649. MALT gathereth a sweetness to the taste,
which appearetli yet more in the wort. The dulcera-
tion of things is worthy to be tried to the full: for
that dulceration importeth a degree to nourishment :
and the making of things inalimental to become ali-
mental, may be an experiment of great profit for

laking new victual.

650. MOST seeds in the growing, leave their husk
or rind about the root ; but the onion will carry it
up, that it will be like a cap upon the top of the

'oung onion. The cause may be, for that the skin
>r husk is not easy to break; as we see by the pilling
>f onions, what a holding substance the skin is.

651. PLANTS, that have curled leaves, do all abound
with moisture ; which cometh so fast on, as they can-
not spread themselves plain, but must needs gather
together. The weakest kind of curling is roughness ;
as in clary and burr. The second is curling on the
sides ; as in lettuce, and young cabbage : and the
third is folding into an head ; as in cabbage full grown,
and cabbage-lettuce.

652. IT is reported, that fir and pine, especially if
they be old and putrified, though they shine not as
some rotten woods do, yet in the sudden breaking
they will sparkle like hard sugar.

653. THE roots of trees do some of them put down-
wards deep into the ground ; as the oak, pine, fir, tic.
Some spread more towards the surface ot the earth ;
as the ash, cypress-tree, olive, etc. The cause of

464 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

latter may be, for that such trees as love the sun, do
not willingly descend far into the earth ; and there-
fore they are, commonly, trees that shoot up much ;
for in their body their desire of approach to the sun
maketh them spread the less. And the same reason
under ground, to avoid recess from the sun, maketh
them spread the more. And we see it cometh to
pass in some trees which have been planted too deep
in the ground, that for love of approach to the sun,
they forsake their first root, and put out another more
towards the top of the earth. And we see also, that
the olive is full of oily juice ; and ash maketh the best
fire ; and cypress is an hot tree. As for the oak,
which is of the former sort, it loveth the earth ; and
therefore groweth slowly. And for the pine and fir
likewise, they have so much heat in themselves, as
they need less the heat of the sun. There be herbs
also that have the same difference ; as the herb they
call morsus diaboli ; which putteth the root down so
low, as you cannot pull it up without breaking ;
which gave occasion to the name and fable ; for that
it was said, it was so wholesome a root, that the devil,
when it was gathered, bit it for envy : and some of
the ancients do report, that there was a goodly fir,
which they desired to remove whole, that had a root
under ground eight cubits deep ; and so the root
came up broken.

654. IT hath been observed, that a branch of a
tree, being unbarked some space at the bottom, and
so set into the ground, hath grown ; even of such
trees, as if the branch were set with the bark on,
they would not grow ; yet contrariwise we see, that a
tree pared round in the body above ground, will die.
The cause may be, for that the unbarked part draweth
the nourishment best, but the bark continueth it only.

655. GRAPES will continue fresh and moist all
winter long, if you hang them cluster by cluster in
the roof of a warm room ; especially if when you
gather the cluster, you take off with the cluster some
of the stock.

606. THE reed or cane is a watery plant, and

Cent. VIL] Natural History. 465

groweth not but in the water ; it hath these proper-
ties ; that it is hollow ; that it is knuckled both stalk
and root; that being dry, it is more hard and fragile
than other wood; that it putteth forth no boughs,
though many stalks come out of one root. It differ-
eth much in greatness ; the smallest being fit for thatch-
ing of houses, and stopping the chinks of ships, better
than glue or pitch. The second bigness is used for
angle rods and staves; and in China for beating of
offenders upon the thighs. The differing kinds of them
are, the common reed, the cassia. fistula, and the su-
gar-reed. Of all plants it boweth the easiest, and
riseth again. It seemeth, that amongst plants which
are nourished with mixture of earth and water, it
draweth most nourishment from water ; which maketh
it the smoothest of all others in bark, and the hoi-
lowest in body.

657. THE sap of trees when they are let blood, is
of differing natures. Some more watery and clear;
as that of vines, of beeches, of pears: some thick, as
apples: some gummy, as cherries: some frothy, as
elms : some milky, as figs. In mulberries the sap
seemeth to be almost towards the bark only ; for if
you cut the tree a little into the bark with a stone, it
will come forth ; if you pierce it deeper with a tool, it
will be dry. The trees which have the moistest
juices in their fruit, have commonly the moistest sap
in their body ; for the vines and pears are very moist ;
apples somewhat more spungy : the milk of the fig
hath the quality of the rennet, to gather cheese ; and
so have certain sour herbs wherewith they make
cheese in Lent.

658. THE timber and wood are in some trees more
clean, in some more knotty; and it is a good trial to
try it by speaking at one end, and laying the ear at
the other : for if it be knotty, the voice will not pass
well. Some have the veins more varied and cham-
bletted ; as oak, whereof wainscot is made ; maple,
whereof trenchers are made : some more smooth, as
fir and walnut: some do more easily breed worms and
spiders ; some more hardly, as it is said of Irish trees :

466 Natural History. [Cent. VlL

besides there be a number of differences that concern
their use; as oak, cedar, and chestnut, are the best
builders ; some are best for plough-timber, as ash ;
some for piers, that are sometimes wet and sometimes
dry, as elm ; some for planchers, as deal ; some for ta-
bles, cupboards, and desks, as walnuts; some for
ship-timber, as oaks that grow in moist grounds; for
that maketh the timber tough, and not apt to rift with
ordnance ; wherein English and Irish timber are
thought to excel : some for masts of ships, as fir and
pine, because of ^their length, straightness, and light-
ness: some for pale, as oak; some for fuel, as ash ;
and so of the rest.

659. THE coming of trees and plants in certain re-
gions, and not in others, is sometimes casual: for
many have been translated, and have prospered well;
as damask-roses, that have not been known in Eng-
land above an hundred years, and now are so common.
But the liking of plants in certain soils more than in
others, is merely natural; as the fir and pine love the
mountains ; the poplar, willow, sallow, and alder,
love rivers and moist places ; the ash loveth coppices,
but is best in standards alone ; juniper loveth chalk;
and so do most fruit-trees ; samphire groweth but up-
on rocks ; reeds and osiers grow where they are
washed with water; the vine loveth sides of hills,
turning upon the south-east sun, etc.

660. THE putting forth of certain herbs discover-
eth of what nature the ground where they put forth is;
as wild thyme sheweth good feeding-ground for
cattle ; betony and strawberries shew ground fit for
wood; camomile sheweth mellow grounds fit for
wheat. Mustard-seed, growing after the plough,
sheweth a good strong ground also for wheat : burnet
sheweth good meadow, and the like.

66 1 . THERE are found in divers countries, some other
plants that grow out of trees and plants, besides mis-
seltoe : as in Syria there is an herb called cassytas,
that groweth out of tall trees, and windeth itself
about the same tree where it groweth, and sometimes
about thorns. There is a kind of polypode that grow-

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 467

eth out of trees, though it windeth not. So likewise
an herb called faunos, upon the wild olive. And an
herb called hyppoph&stQn upon the fullers thorn :
which, they say, is good for the falling sickness.

(562. IT hath been observed by some of the an-
cients, that howsoever cold and easterly winds are
thought to be great enemies to fruit, yet nevertheless
south winds are also found to do hurt, especially in the
blossoming time ; and the more if showers follow. It
Seemeth they call forth the moisture too fast. The
west winds are the best. It hath been observed also,
that green and open winters do hurt trees ; insomuch
as if two or three such winters come together, al-
mond-trees, and some other trees, will die. The
cause is the same with the former, because the lust of
the earth over-spendeth itself: howsoever some other
of the ancients have commended warm winters.

663. SNOWS lying long cause a fruitful year; for
first, they keep in the strength of the earth ; second-
ly, they water the earth better than rain : for in snow,
the earth doth, as it were, suck the water as out of
the teat : thirdly, the moisture of snow is the finest
moisture, for it is the froth of the cloudy waters.

664*. SHOWERS, if they come a little before the ri-
pening of fruits, do good to all succulent and moist
fruits ; as vines, olives, pomegranates ; yet it is rather for
plenty than for goodness ; for the best vines are in the
driest vintages : small showers are likewise good for
corn, so as parching heats come not upon them. Ge-
nerally night showers are better than day showers, for
that the sun followeth not so fast upr :i them ; and we
see even in watering by the hand, it is best in summer
time to water in the evening.

665. THE differences of earths, and the trial of
them, are worthy to be diligently inquired. The
earth that with showers doth easiliest soften, is com-
mended ; and yet some earth of that kind will be
very dry and hard before the showers. The earth that
casteth up from the plough a great clod, is not so good
as that which casteth up a smaller clod. The earth
that putteth forth moss easily, and may be called

Natural History. [Cent. VII*

mouldy, is not good. The earth that smelleth well
upon the digging, or ploughing, is commended ; as
containing the juice of vegetables almost already pre-
pared. It is thought by some, that the ends of low
rainbows fall more upon one kind of earth than upon
another ; as it may well be; for that that earth is most
roscid : and therefore it is commended for a sign of
good earth. The poorness of the herbs, it is plain,
shew the poorness of the earth; and especially if they
be in colour more dark : but if the herbs shew wi-
thered, or blasted at the top, it sheweth the earth to
be very cold ; and so doth the mossiness of trees.
The earth whereof the grass is soon parched with the
sun, and toasted, is commonly forced earth, and bar-
ren in its own nature. The tender, chessome, and
mellow earth, is the best, being mere mold, between
the two extremes of clay and sand, especially if it be
not loamy and binding. The earth, that after rain
will scarce be ploughed, is commonly fruitful : for it
is cleaving, and full of juice.

666. IT is strange, which is observed by some of
the ancients, that dust helpeth the fruitfulness of trees,
and of vines by name ; insomuch as they cast dust
upon them of purpose. It should seem, that that
powdering, when a shower cometh, maketh a kind of
soiling to the tree, being earth and water finely laid
on. And they note, that countries where the fields
and ways are dusty bear the best vines.

667. IT is commended by the ancients for an ex-
cellent help to trees, to lay the stalks and leaves of
lupins about the roots, or to plough them into the
ground where you will sow corn. The burning also
of the cuttings of vines, and casting them upon land,
doth much good. And it was generally received of
old, that dunging of grounds when the west wind
bloweth, and in the decrease of the moon, doth
greatly help; the earth, as it seemeth, being then
more thirsty and open to receive the dung.

668. THE grafting of vines upon vines, as I take it,
is not now in use : the ancients had it, and that three
ways : the first was incision, which is the ordinary

Cent. VIL] Natural History. 469

manner of grafting : the second was tercbration
through the middle of the stock, and putting in the
cions there : and the third was paring of two vines
that grow together to the marrow, and binding them
close,

669. THE diseases and ill accidents of corn are
worthy to be inquired; and would be more worthy to be
inquired, if it were in mcns power to help them; where*
as many of them are not to be remedied. The mil-
dew is one of the greatest, which, out of question,
cometh by closeness of air; and therefore in hills, or
large champain grounds, it seldom cometh ; such as
is with us York's woald. This cannot be remedied,
otherwise than that in countries of small inclosure the
grounds be turned into larger fields: which I have
known to do good in some farms. Another disease is
the putting forth of wild oats, whereinto corn often-
times, especially barley, doth degenerate. It happen-
eth chiefly from the weakness of the grain that is
sown ; for if it be either too old or mouldy, it will
bring forth wild oats. Another disease is the satiety
of the ground ; for if you sow one ground still with
the same corn, I mean not the same corn that grew
upon the same ground, but the same kind of grain, as
wheat, barley, etc. it will prosper but poorly: there-
fore, besides the resting of the ground, you must vary
the seed. Another ill accident is from the winds,
which hurt at two times ; at the flowering, by shaking
of the flowers ; and at the full ripening, by shaking
out the corn. Another ill accident is drought, at the
spindling of the corn, which with us is rare, but in
hotter countries common : insomuch as the word ca-
lamitas was first derived from calamus, when the corn
could not get out of the stalk. Another ill accident
is over-wet at sowing time, which with us breedeth
much dearth, insomuch as the corn never cometh up ;
and many times they are forced to resow- summer
corn where they sowed winter corn. Another ill ac-
cident is bitter frosts continued without snow, espe-
cially in the beginning of the winter, after the seed is
new sown. Another disease is worms, which some*

VOL, I, H H

470 Natural History. '[Cent. VII.

times breed in the root, and happen upon hot suns
and showers immediately after the sowing ; and an-
other worm breedeth in the ear itself, especially when
hot suns break often out of clouds. Another disease
is weeds; and they are such as either choke and over-
shadow the corn, and bear it down; or starve the
corn, and deceive it of nourishment. Another disease
is over-rankness of the corn ; which they used to re-
, medy by mowing it after it is come up ; or putting

sheep into it. Another ill accident is laying of corn
with great rains, near or in harvest. Another ill acci-
dent is, if the seed happen to have touched oil, or
any thing that is fat; for those substances have an
antipathy with nourishment of water.

670. THE remedies of the diseases of corn have
been observed as followeth. The steeping of the
grain, before sowing, a little time in wine, is thought a
preservative : the mingling of seed-corn with ashes is
thought to be good : the sowing at the wane of the
moon, is thought to make the corn sound ; it hath not
been practised, but it is thought to be of use to make
some mixture in corn ; as if you sow a few beans with
wheat, your wheat will be the better. It hath been
observed, that the sowing of corn with housleek doth
good. Though grain that toucheth oil or fat, re-
ceivethhurt, yet the steeping of it in the dregs of oil,
when it beginneth toxputrify, which they call amurca,
is thought to assure it against worms. It is reported
also, that if corn be mowed, it will make the grain
longer, but emptier, and having more of the husk.

671. IT hath been noted, that seed of a year old is
the best; and of two or three years is worse; and
that which is more old is quite barren; though, no
doubt, some seed and grains last better than others.
The corn which in the fanning lieth lowest is the best :
and the corn which broken or bitten retaineth a little
yellowness, is better than that which is very white.

672. IT hath been observed, that of all roots of
herbs, the root of sorrel goeth the farthest into the
earth ; insomuch that it hath been known to go three
cubits deep : and that it is the root that continueth lit

Cent. VII.] Natural Ills lory. , 471

longest lo be set again, of any root that groweth. It
is a cold and acid herb, that, as it seemeth, loveth the
earth, and is not much drawn by the sun.

673. IT hath been observed, that some herbs like
best being watered with saltwater; as radish, beet,
rue, pennyroyal ; this trial should be extended to
some other herbs; especially such as are strong, as
tarragon, mustard-seed, rocket, and the like.

(>7 i«. I r is strange that is generally received, how
some poisonous beasts affect odorate and wholesome
herbs ; as that the snake loveth fennel ; that the toad
will be much under sage; that frogs will be in cinque-
foil. It may be it is rather the shade, or other cover-
ture, that they take liking in, than the virtue of the
herb.

675. IT were a matter of great profit, save that I
doubt it is too conjectural to venture upon, if one
could discern what corn, herbs, or fruits, are like to
be in plenty or scarcity, by some signs and prognostics
in the beginning of the year: for as for those that are
like to be in plenty, they may be bargained for upon
the ground; as the old relation was of Thales; who,
to shew how easy it was for a philosopher to be rich,
when he foresaw a great plenty of olives, made a mo-
nopoly of them. And for scarcity, men may make
profit in keeping better the old store. Long continu-
ance of snow is believed to make a fruitful year of
corn : an early winter, or a very late winter, a barren
year of corn : an open and serene winter, an ill year
of fruit : these we have partly touched before : but
other prognostics of like nature are diligently to be
inquired.

676. THERE seem to be in some plants singulari-
ties, wherein they differ from all other ; the olive hath
the oily part only on the outside ; whereas all other
fruits have it in the nut or kernel. The fir hath, in
effect, no stone, nut, nor kernel ; except you will
-count the little grains kernels. The pomegranate and
pine-apple have only amongst fruits grains distinct in
several cells. No herbs have curled leaves but cab-
bage and cabbage-lettuce. None have doubled leaves,

HH 2

472 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

one belonging to the stalk, another to the fruit or seed,
but the artichoke. No flower hath that kind of
spread that the woodbine hath. This may be a large
field of contemplation ; for it sheweth that in the
frame of nature, there is, in the producing of some
species, a composition of matter, which happeiieth
oft, and may be much diversified : in others, such as
happeneth rarely, and admitteth little variety : for so
it is likewise in beasts : dogs have a resemblance with
wolves and foxes ; horses with asses ; kine with buf-
fles ; hares with coneys, etc. And so in birds: kites
and kestrels have a resemblance with hawks ; com-
mon doves with ring-doves and turtles ; blackbirds
with thrushes and mavises ; crows with ravens, daws,
and choughs, etc. But elephants and swine amongst
beasts; and the bird of paradise and the peacock
amongst birds ; and some few others have scarce
any other species that have affinity with them.

We leave the description of plants, and their vir-
tues, to herbalists, and other like books of natural
history; wherein mens diligence hath been great,
even to curiosity : for our experiments are only such
as do ever ascend a degree to the deriving of causes,
and extracting of axioms, which we are not ignorant
but that some both of the ancient and modern writers
have also laboured ; but their causes and axioms are
so full of imagination, and so infected with the old re-
ceived theories, as they are mere inquinations of ex-
perience, and concoct it not.

Experiment solitary touching healing of wounds.

677. IT hath been observed by some of the an-
cients, that skins, especially of rams, newly pulled off,
and applied to the wounds of stripes, do keep them
from swelling and exulcerating; and likewise heal
them and close them up ; and that the whites of eggs
do the same. The cause is a temperate conglutination ;
for both bodies are clammy and viscous, and do bridle
the deflux of humours to the hurts, without penning
them in- too much.

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 473

'Experiment solitary touching fat diffused in flesh.

678. You may turn almost all flesh into a fatty
substance, if you take flesh and cut it into pieces, and
put the pieces into a glass covered with parchment ;
and so let the glass stand six or seven hours in boiling
water. It may be an experiment of profit for making
of fat or grease for many uses ; but then it must be of
such flesh as is not edible ; as horses, dogs, bears,
foxes, badgers, etc.

Experiment solitary touching ripening of drink before

the time.

679. IT is reported by one of the ancients, that new
wine put into vessels well stopped, and the vessels
let down into the sea, will accelerate very much the
making of them ripe and potable. The same should
be tried in worL

Experiment solitary touching pilosity and plumage.

680. BEASTS are more hairy than men, and savage
men more than civil ; and the plumage of birds ex-
ceedeth the pilosity of beasts. The cause of the
smoothness in men is not any abundance of heat and
moisture, though that indeed causeth pilosity; but
there is requisite to pilosity, not so much heat and mois-
ture, as excrernentitious heat and moisture, for what-
soever assimilateth, goeth not into the hair, and ex-
crementitious moisture aboundeth most in beasts, and
men that are more savage. Much the san^e reason
is there of the plumage of birds; for birds assimilate
less, and excern more than beasts ; for their excre-
ments are ever liquid, and their flesh generally more
dry: besides, they have not instruments for uripe;
and so all the excrernentitious moisture gpeth into
the feathers : and therefore it is no marvel, though
birds be commonly better meat than beasts, because
their flesh doth assimilate more finely, and secerneth
more subtilly. Again, the head of man hath hair
upon the first birth, which no other part of the body
hath. The cause may be want of perspiration; for
much of the matter of hair, in the other parts of the

474 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

body, goeth forth by insensible perspiration ; and be-
sides, the skull being of a more solid substance, nou-
risheth and assimilateth less, and exerneth more; and
so likewise doth the chin. We see also, that hair
cometh not upon the palms of the hands, nor
soles of the feet ; which are parts more perspirable.
And children likewise are not hairy, for that their
skins are more perspirable.

' Experiment solitary touching the quickness of motion

in birds.

681. BIRDS are of swifter motion than beasts; for
the flight of many birds is swifter than the race of any
beasts. The cause is, for that the spirits in birds are
in greater proportion, in comparison of the bulk of
their body, than in beasts: for as for the reason that
some give, that they are partly carried, whereas beasts
go, that is nothing ; for by that reason swimming
should be swifter than running : and that kind of car-
riage also is not without labour of the wing.

Experiment solitary touching the different clearness of

the sea.

682. THE sea is clearer when the north wind blow-
eth, than when the south wind. The cause is for that
salt water hath a little oiliness in the surface thereof,
as appeareth in very hot days: and again, for that the
southern wind relaxeth the water somewhat; and
no water boiling is so clear as cold water.

Experiment solitary touching the different heats of ,ftrc
and boiling icater.

683. FiREburneth wood, making it first luminous;
then black and brittle ; and lastly, broken and incine-
rate; scalding water doth none of these. The cause
is, for that by fire the spirit of the body is first refined,
and then emitted ; whereof the refining or attenua-
tion causeth the light ; and the emission, first the fra-
gility, and after the dissolution into ashes; neither
doth any other body enter: but in water the spirit of
the body is not refined so much; and besides part of

Jik
wl

i

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 475

the water entereth, which doth increase the spirit, and
in a degree extinguished! it : therefore we see that
hot water will quench fire. And again we see, that
in bodies wherein the water doth not much enter, but
only the heat passeth, hot water worketh the effects of
fire ; as in eggs boiled and roasted, into which the wa-
ter entereth not at all, there is scarce difference to be
discerned ; but in fruit, and flesh, whereinto the
water entereth in some part, there is much more
difference.

'Experiment solitary touching the qualification of heat by

moisture.

684. THE bottom of a vessel of boiling water, as
hath been observed, is not very much heated, so as
men may put their hand under the vessel and remove
it. The cause is, for that the moisture of water as it
quencheth coals where it entereth, so it doth allay
heat where ittoucheth : and therefore note well, that
moisture, although it doth not pass through bodies,
without communication of some substance, as heat
and cold do, yet it worketh manifest effects; not by
entrance of the body, but by qualifying of the heat
and cold; as we see in this instance: and we see,
likewise, that the water of things distilled in water,
which they call the bath, differeth not much from the
water of things distilled by fire. We see also, that

wter dishes with water in them will not melt easi-
y, but without it they will ; nay we see more, that
butter, or oil, which in themselves are inflamma-
ble, yet by virtue of their moisture will do the like.

Experiment solitary touching yaicning.

685. IT hath been noted by the ancients, that it is
dangerous to pick one's ear whilst he yawneth. The
cause is, for that in yawning the inner parchment of
the ear is extended, by the drawing in of the spirit and
breath ; for in yawning, and sighing both, the spirit
is first strongly drawn in, and then strongly expelled.

476 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

Experiment solitary touching the hiccough.

686. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that
sneezing doth cease the hiccough. The cause is, for
that the motion of the hiccough is a lifting up of the
stomach, which sneezing doth somewhat depress,
and divert the motion another way. For first we see
that the hiccough cometh of fulness of meat, espe-
cially in children, which causeth an extension of the
stomach : we see also it is caused by acid meats, or
drinks, which is by the pricking of the stomach ; and
this motion is ceased either by diversion, or by deten,-
tion of the spirits; diversion, as in sneezing; deten-
tion, as we see hplding of the breath doth help some-
what to cease the hiccough; and putting a man into
an earnest study doth the like, as is commonly used :
and vinegar put to the nostrils, or gargarised, doth it
also ; for that it is astringent, and inhibiteth the motion
of the spirits.

Experiment solitary touching sneezing*

687. LOOKING against the sun doth induce sneez-
ing. The cause is not the heating of the nostrils, for
then the holding up of the nostrils against the sun,
though one wink, would do it ; but the drawing down
of the moisture of the brain : for it will make the eyes
run with water ; and the drawing of moisture to the
eyes, doth draw it to the nostrils by motion of con-
sent; and so followeth sneezing: as contrariwise, the
tickling of the nostrils within, doth draw the moisture
to the nostrils, and to the eyes by consent ; for they
also will water. But yet it hath been observed, that
if one be about to sneeze, the rubbing of the eyes till
they run with water will prevent it. Whereof the
cause is, for that the humour which was descending
to the nostrils, is diverted to the eyes.

Experiment solitary touching the tenderness of the teeth.

688. THE teeth are more by cold drink or the
like, affected than the other parts. The cause is
double ; the one, for that the resistance of bone to
cdld is greater than of flesh, for that the flesh shrink-

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 477

eth, but the boneresisteth, whereby the cold becometh
more eager : the other is, for that the teeth are
parts without blood ; whereas blood helpeth to qua-
lify the cold ; and therefore we see that the sinews
are much affected with cold, for that they are parts
without blood ; SQ the bones in sharp colds wax: brit-r
tie : and therefore it hath been seen, that all contu->
sions of bones in hard weather are more difficult to
cure.

Experiment solitary touching the tongue.

689. IT hath been noted, that the tongue receiver.!}
more easily tokens of diseases than the other parts ; as,
of heats within, which appear most in the blackness
of the tongue. Again, pyed cattle are spotted in their
tongues, etc. The cause is, no doubt, the tenderness,
of the part, which thereby receiveth more easily all
alterations, than any other parts of the flesh.

Experiment solitary touching the taste.

690. WHEN the mouth is put of taste, it maketh
things taste sometimes salt, chiefly bitter ; and some-
times lothsome, but never sweet. The cause is, the
corrupting of the moisture about the tongue, which
many times turneth bitter, and salt, and lothsome ;
but sweet never ; for the rest are degrees of corrup-
tion.

Experiment solitary touching some prognostics of pesti-
lential seasons.

691. IT was observed in the great plague of the
last year, that there were seen in divers ditches
and low grounds about London, many toads that
had tails two or three inches long at the least;
whereas toads usually have no tails at all. Which ar-
gueth a great disposition to putrefaction in the soil
and air. It is reported likewise, that roots, such as
carrots and parsnips, are more sweet and luscious in
infectious years than in other years.

173 Natural History. [Cent. VII.

Experiment solitary touching special simples for medi*

ernes.

692. WISE physicians should with all diligence in-
quire, what simples nature yieldeth that have ex-
treme subtile parts, without any mordication or acri-
mony : for they undermine that which is hard; they
open that which is stopped and shut ; and they ex-
pel that which is offensive, gently, without too much
perturbation. Of this kind are alder-flowers ; which
therefore are proper for the stone : of this kind is the
dwarf-pine ; which is proper for the jaundice : of this
kind is hartshorn ; which is proper for agues and in-
fections: of this kind is piony; which is proper for
stoppings in the head: of this kind is fumitory;
which is proper for the spleen : and a number of
others. Generally divers creatures bred of putrefac-
tion, though they be somewhat lothsome to take,,
are of this kind; as earth-worms, timber-sows, snails,
etc. And I conceive that the trochisks of vipers,
which are so much magnified, and the flesh of snakes
some ways condited, and corrected, which of late are
grown into some credit, are of the same nature. So
the parts of beasts putrified, as castorewn and musk,
which have extreme subtile parts, are to be placed
amongst them. We see also, that putrefactions of
plants, as agarick and Jews-ear, are of greatest virtue.
The cause is, for that putrefaction is the subtilest of
all motions in the parts of bodies : and since we can-
not take down the lives of living creatures, which,
some of the Paracelsians say, if they could be taken
down, would make us immortal ; the next is for sub-
tilty of operation, to take bodies putrified ; such as
may be safely taken.

Experiments in consort touching Venus.

693. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that
much use of Venus doth dim the sight ; and yet eu-
nuchs, which are unable to generate, are nevertheless
also dim-sighted. The cause of dimness of sight in the
iormer, is the expence of spirits; in the latter, the
over-moisture of the brain : for the over-moisture ot the

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 479

brain doth thicken the spirits visual, and obstructeth
their passages; as we see by the decay in the sight ia
age; where also the diminution of the spirits concur-
reth as another cause: we see also that blindness
cometh by rheums and cataracts. Now in eunuchs,
there are all the notes of moisture; as the swelling of
their thighs, the looseness of their belly, the smooth-
ness of their skin, etc.

694. THE pleasure in the act of Venus is the
greatest of the pleasures of the senses: the matching of it
with itch is improper, though that also be pleasing to
the touch. But the causes are profound. First, all
the organs of the senses qualify the motions of the
spirits; and make so many several species of motions,
and pleasures or displeasures thereupon, as there be
diversities of organs. The instruments of sight, hear-
ing taste, and smell, are of several frame ; and so are1
the parts for generation. Therefore Scaliger doth well
to make the pleasure of generation a sixth sense ; and
if there were any other differing organs, and qualified
perforations for the spirits to pass, there would be
more than the live senses: neither do we well know,
whetjier some beasts and birds have not senses that we
know not ; and the very scent of dogs is almost a sense
by itself. Secondly, the pleasures of the touch are
greater and deeper than those of the other senses ; as
we see in warming upon cold ; or refrigeration upon
heat : for as the pains of the touch are greater than the
offences of other senses ; so likewise are the pleasures.
It is true, that the affecting of the spirits immediate-
ly, and, as it were, without an organ, is of the greatest
pleasure; which is but in two things : sweet smells, and
wine, and the like sweet vapours. For smells, we see
their great and sudden effect in fetching men again
when they swoon : for drink, it is certain that the plea-
sure of drunkenness is next the pleasure of Venus ;
and great joys, likewise, make the spirits move and
touch themselves : and the pleasure of Venus is
somewhat of the same kind.

695. IT hath been always observed, that men are
more inclined to Venus in the winter, and women in

48o Natural History, [Cent. VII.

the summer. The cause is, for that the spirits, in a
body more hot and dry, as the spirits of men are,
by the summer are more exhaled and dissipated; and
in the winter more condensed and kept intire : but
in bodies that are cold and moist, as womens are, the
summer doth cherish the spirits, and calleth them
forth ; the winter doth dull them. Furthermore, the ab-
stinence, or intermission of the use of Venus in moist
and well habituate bodies, breedeth a number of dis-
eases: and especially dangerous imposthumations.
The reason is evident ; for that it is a principal evacu-
ation, especially of the spirits : for of the spirits there
is scarce any evacuation, but in Venus and exercise.
And therefore the omission of either of them breedeth
all diseases of repletion.

* Experiments in consort touching the insecta.

THE nature of vivification is very worthy the in-
quiry: and as the nature of things is commonly better
perceived in small than in great; and in imperfect
than in perfect ; and in parts than in whole : so the
nature of vivification is best inquired in creatures bred
of putrefaction. The contemplation whereof hath
many excellent fruits. First, in disclosing the ori-
ginal of vivification. Secondly, in disclosing the ori-
ginal of figuration. Thirdly, in disclosing many
things in the nature of perfect creatures, which in
them lie more hidden. And fourthly, in traducing,
by way of operation, some observations in the insecta,
to work effects upon perfect creatures. Note, that
the word insecta agreeth not with the matter, but we
ever use it for brevity's sake, intending by it creatures
bred of putrefaction.

696. THE insecta are found to breed out of several
matters : some breed of mud or dung ; as the earth-
worms, eels, snakes, etc. For they are both putre-
factions : for water in mud doth putrify, as not able
to preserve itself: and for dung, all excrements are
the refuse and putrefactions of nourishment. Some
breed in wood, both growing and cut down. Que?y,
in what woods most, and at what seasons ? We see

Cent. VIL] Natural History. 481

that the worms with many feet, which round themselves
into balls, are bred chiefly under logs of timber, but
not in the timber; and they are said to be found also
many times in gardens, where no logs are. But it
seemeth their generation requireth a coverture, both
from sun, and rain or dew, as the timber is ; and
therefore they are not venomous, but contrariwise are
held by the physicians to clarify the blood. It is ob-
served also, that cimices are found in the holes of bed-
sides. Some breed in the hair of living creatures, as
lice and tikes ; which are bred by the sweat close
kept, and somewhat arefied by the hair. The excre-
ments of living creatures do not only breed j meet a
when they are excerned, but also while they are in
the body ; as in worms, whereto children are most
subject, and are chiefly in the guts. And it hath
been lately observed by physicians, that in many pes-
tilent diseases, there are worms found in the upper
parts of the body, where excrements are not, but
only humours putrified. Fleas breed principally of
straw or mats, where there hath been a little mois-
ture ; or the chamber and bed-straw kept close and
not aired. It is received, that they are killed by
strewing wormwood in the rooms. And it is truly
observed, that bitter things are apt rather to kill, than
engender putrefaction; and they be things that are
fat or sweet that are aptest to putrify. There is a
worm that breedeth in meal, of the shape of a large
white maggot, which is given as a great dainty to
nightingales. The moth breedeth upon cloth and
other lanifices ; especially if they be laid up dankish
and wet. It delighteth to be about the flame of a
candle. There is a worm called a wevil, bred under
ground, and that feedeth upon roots ; as parsnips, car-
rots, etc. Some breed in waters, especially shaded,
but they must be standing waters ; as the water-spi-
der that hath six legs. The fly called the gad-fiy,
breedeth of somewhat that swimmeth upon the top
of the water, and is most about ponds. There is a
worm that breedeth of the dregs of wine decayed ;
which afterwards, as is observed by some of the an-

482 Xatnral ttlston}. [Cent. VII.

cients, turneth into a gnat. It hath been observed
by the ancients, that there is a worm that breedeth in
old snow, and is of colour reddish and dull of mo*
tion, and dieth soon after it comcth out of snow.
Which should shew, that snow hath in it a secret
warmth ; for else it could hardly vivify. And the
reason of the dying of the worm, may be the sudden
exhaling of that little spirit, as soon as it cometh out
of the cold, which had shut it in. For as butterflies
quicken with heat, which were benumbed with cold ;
so spirits may exhale with heat, which were preserved
in cold. It is affirmed both by the ancient and mo-
dern observation, that in furnaces of copper and brass,
where chalcites, which is vitriol, is often cast in to
mend the working, there riseth suddenly a fly, which
sometimes movcth as if it took hold on the walls of
the furnace; sometimes is seen moving in the fire be-
low; and dieth presently as soon as it is out of the fur-
nace: which is a noble instance, and worthy to be
weighed ; for it sheweth, that as well violent heat of
fire, as the gentle heat of living creatures, will vivify,
if it have matter proportionable. Now the great
axiom of vivification is, that there must be heat to di-
late the spirit of the body ; an active spirit to be di-
lated ; matter viscous or tenacious to hold in the
spirit ; and that matter to be put forth and figured.
Now a spirit dilated by so ardent a fire as that of the
furnace, as soon as ever it cooleth never so little, con-
gealeth presently. And, no doubt, this action is fur-
thered by the chalcitcs, which hath a spirit that will
put forth and germinate, as we sec in chemical trials.
Briefly, most things putrified bring forth insecta of
several names ; but we will not take upon us now to
enumerate them all.

697. THE insecta have been noted by the ancients
to feed little : but this hath not been diligently ob-
served; for grasshoppers eat up the green of whole
countries; and silk-worms devour leaves swiftly ; and
ants make great provision. It is true, that creatures
that sleep and rest much, eat little ; as dormice and
bats, etc. They arc all without blood : which may

Cent. VII.] Natural History. 483

be, for that the juice of their bodies is almost all one ;
not blood, and flesh, and skin, and bone, as in perfect
creatures ; the integral parts have extreme variety,
but the similar parts little. It is true, that they have,
some of them, a diaphragm and an intestine ; and
they have all skins; which in most of the insecta are
cast often. They are not, generally of long life; yet
bees have been known to live seven years : and snakes
are thought, the rather for the casting of their spoil, to
live till they be old : and eels, which many times
breed of putrefaction, will live and grow very long ;
and those that interchange from worms to flies in the
summer, and from flies to worms in the winter, have
been kept in boxes four years at the least. Yet
there are certain flies that are called ephemera that live
but a day. The cause is the exility of the spirit, or
perhaps the absence of the sun ; for that if they were
brought in, or kept close, they might live longer.
Many of the insecta, as butterflies and other flies, re-
vive easily when they seem dead, being brought to
the sun or fire. The cause whereof is the diffusion of
the vital spirit, and the easy dilating of it by a little
heat. They stir a good while after their heads are off,
or that they be cut in pieces ; which is caused also, for
that their vital spirits are more diffused throughout all
their parts, and less confined to organs than in perfect
creatures.

693. THE insecta have voluntary motion, and there-
fore imagination ; and whereas some of the ancients
have said, that their motion is indeterminate, and
their imagination indefinite, it is negligently ob-
served ; for ants go right forwards to their hills ; and
bees do admirably know the way from a flowery
heath two or three miles off to their hives. It may be,
gnats and flies have their imagination more mutable
and giddy, as small birds likewise have. It is said by
some of the ancients, that they have only the sense of
feeling, which is manifestly untrue ; for if they go
forth right to a place, they must needs have sight ;
besides they delight more in one flower or herb than
in another, and therefore have taste : and bees are

48i Natural History. [Cent. VII.

called with sound upon brass, and therefore they have
hearing; which sheweth likewise, that though their
spirit be diffused, yet there is a seat of their senses in
their head.

OTHER observations concerning the insecta, toge-
ther with the enumeration of them, we refer to that
place, where wfc mean to handle the title of animals
in general.

Experiment solitary touching leaping.

699. A MAN leapeth better with weights in his
hands than without. The cause is, for that the
weight, if it be proportionable, strengthened the
sinews by contracting them. For otherwise, where
no contraction is needful, weight hindereth. As we
see in horse-races, men are curious to foresee, that there
be not the least weight upon the one horse more than
upon the other. In leaping with weights the arms are
first cast backwards, and then forwards, with so much
the greater force ; for the hands go backward before
they take their rise. Query, if the contrary motion of
the spirits, immediately before the motion we intend,
doth not cause the spirits as it were to break forth
with more force ? as breath also, drawn and kept in,
cometh forth more forcibly : and in casting ot any
thing, the arms, to make a great swing, are first cast
backward.

Experiment, solitary touching the pleasures and dis*
pleasures of the senses , especidilj/ of hearing.

TOO. OF musical tones and unequal sounds we have
spoken before ; but touching the pleasure and dis-
pleasure of the senses, not so fully. Harsh sounds,
as of a saw when it is sharpened; grinding of one stone
against another ; squeaking or shrieking noise ; make
a shivering or horror in the body, and set the teeth on
edge. The cause is, for that the objects of the ear
do affect the spirits, immediately, most with pleasure
and offence. We see there is no colour that affecteth
the eye much with displeasure : there be sights that
are horrible, because they excite the memory of things

Cent. VII.] Natural History.

that are odious or fearful ; but the same things painted
do little affect. As for smells, tastes, and touches,
they be things that do affect by a participation or im-
pulsion of the body of the object. So it is sound alone
that doth immediately and incorporeally affect most ;
this is most manifest in music, and concords and dis-
cords in music : for all sounds, whether they be sharp
or flat, if they be sweet, have a roundness and equa-
lity ; and if they be harsh, are unequal : for a discord
itself is but a harshness of divers sounds meeting. It
is true that inequality not stayed upon, but passing, is
rather an increase of sweetness; as in the purling of a
wreathed string ; and in the raucity of a trumpet; and
in the nightingale-pipe of a regal ; and in a discord
straight falling upon a concord ; but if you stay upon
it, it is offensive : and therefore there be these three de-
grees of pleasing and displeasing in sounds, sweet
sounds, discords, and harsh sounds, which we call by
divers names, as shrieking or grating, such as we now
speak of. As for the setting of the teeth on edge, we
see plainly what an intercourse there is between the
teeth and the organ of the hearing, by the taking of
the end of a bow between the teeth, and striking upon
the string.

VOL. I.

[ 486 ]
NATURAL HISTORY,

CENTURY VIII.

Experiment solitary touching veins of medicinal earth.

701. I HERE be minerals and fossils in great va-
riety; but of veins of earth medicinal, but few : the
chief are terra lemnia, terra sigillata communis, and
bolus armenus ; whereot terra lemnia is the chief. The
virtues of them are, for curing of wounds, stanching
of blood, stopping of fluxes, and rheums, and arrest-
ing the spreading of poison, infection, and putrefac-
tion : and they have of all other simples the perfectest
and purest quality of drying, with little or no mixture
of any other quality. Yet it is true, that the bole-ar-
moniac is the most cold of them, and that terra lem-
nia is the most hot ; for which cause the island Lem-
nos, where it is digged, was in the old fabulous ages
consecrated to Vulcan.

Experiment solitary touching the growth of sponges.

702. ABOUT the bottom of the Straits are gathered
great quantities of sponges, which are gathered from
the sides of rocks, being as it were a large but
tough moss. It is the more to be noted, because that
there be but few substances, plant-like, that grow
deep within the sea ; for they are gathered sometimes
fifteen fathom deep : and when they are laid on shore,
they seem to be of great bulk ; but crushed together,
will be transported in a very small room.

Experiment solitary touching sea-fish put in fresh waters.

703. IT seemeth, that fish that are used to the salt
water, do nevertheless delight more in fresh. We
see, that salmons and smelts love to get into rivers.

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 487

though it be against the stream. At the haven of
Constantinople you shall have great quantities of fish

»that come from the Euxine sea, that when they come
into the fresh water, do inebriate and turn up their
bellies, so as you may take them with your hand. I
doubt there hath not been sufficient experiment made
of putting sea-fish into fresh water, ponds, and pools.
It is a thing of great Use and pleasure ; for so you may
have them new at some good distance from the sea:
and besides, it may be, the fish will eat the pleasanter,
and may fall to breed. And it is said, that Colchester
oisters, which are put into pits, where the sea goeth
and cometh, but yet so that there is a fresh water
coming also to them when the sea voideth, become by
that means fatter, and more grown.

Experiment solitary touching attraction by similitude of
substance.

704. THE Turkish bow giveth a very forcible shoot ;
insomuch as it hath been known, that the arrow hath
pierced a steel target, or a piece of brass of two
inches thick : but that which is more strange, the ar-
row, if it be headed with wood, hath been known to
pierce through a piece of wood of eight inches thick.
And it is certain, that we had in use at one time, for
sea fight, short arrows, which they called sprights,
without any other heads, save wood sharpened ; which
were discharged out of muskets, and would pierce
through the sides of ships where a bullet would not
pierce. But this dependeth upon one of the greatest
secrets in all nature ; which is, that similitude of sub-
stance will cause attraction, where the body is wholly
freed from the motion of gravity : for if that were taken
away, lead would draw lead, and gold would draw
gold, and iron would draw iron, without the help of
the loadstone. But this same motion of weight or
gravity, which is a mere motion of the matter, and
hath no affinity with the form or kind, doth kill the
other motion, except itself be killed by a violent mo-
tion, as in these instances of arrows ± for then the mo-
tion of attraction by similitude of substance beginneth

i i 2

488 Natural History. [Cent. VIII;

to shew itself. But we shall handle this point of na-
ture fully in due place.

Experiment solitary touching certain drinks in Turkey*

705. THEY have in Turkey and the east certain con-
fections, which they call servets, which are like to can-
died conserves, and are made of sugar and lemons, or
sugar and citrons, or sugar and violets, and some other
flowers ; and some mixture of amber for the more de-
licate persons : and those they dissolve in water, and
thereof make their drink, because they are forbidden
wine by their law. But I do much marvel, that no
Englishman, or Dutchman, or German, doth set up
brewing in Constantinople; considering they have
such quantity of barley. For as for the general sort
of men, frugality may be the cause of drinking water ;
for that it is no small saving to pay nothing for one's
drink ; but the better sort might well be at the cost.
And yet I wonder the less at it, because I see France,
Italy, or Spain, have not taken into use beer or ale ;
which, perhaps, if they did, would better both their
healths and their complexions. It is likely it would
be matter of great gain to any that should begin it in
Turkey.

Experiments in consort touching sweat.

706. IN bathing in hot water, sweat, nevertheless,
cometh not in the parts under the water. The cause
is ; first, for that sweat is a kind of colliquation , and
that kind of colliquation is not made either by an
over-dry heat, or an over-moist heat : for over-moisture
doth Somewhat extinguish the heat, as we see that
even hot water quencheth fire ; and over-dry heat
shutteth the pores : and therefore men will sooner
sweat covered before the aun or fire, than if they stood
naked : and earthen bottles, filled with hot water, do
provoke in bed a sweat more daintily than brick-bats
hot. Secondly, hot water doth cause evaporation
from the skin ; so as it spendeth the matter in those
parts under the water, before it issueth in sweat.
Again,, sweat cometh more plentifully, if the heat be

;

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 489

increased by degrees, than if it be greatest at first or
equal. The cause is, for that the pores are better
opened by a gentle heat, than by a more violent ; and
by their opening, the sweat issueth more abundantly.
And therefore physicians may do well when they pro-
voke sweat in bed by bottles, with a decoction of
sudorific herbs in hot water, to make two degrees of
heat in the bottles ; and to lay in the bed the less
heated first, and after half an hour, the more heated.

707. SWEAT is salt in taste ; the cause is, for that
that part of the nourishment which is fresh and sweet,
turneth into blood and flesh; and the sweat is only
that part which is separate and excerned. Blood also
raw hath some saltness more than flesh : because the
assimilation into flesh is not without a little and sub-
tile excretion from the blood.

708. SWEAT cometh forth more out of the upper
parts of the body than the lower; the reason is, be-
cause those parts are more replenished with spirits ;
and the spirits are they that put forth sweat : besides,
they are less fleshy, and sweat issueth, chiefly, out of
the parts that are less fleshy, and more dry ; as the
forehead and breast.

709. MEN sweat more in sleep than waking; and
yet sleep doth rather stay other fluxions, than cause
them ; as rheums, looseness of the body, etc. The
cause is, for that in sleep the heat and spirits do natu-
rally move inwards, and there rest. But when they
are collected once within, the heat becometh more
violent and irritate ; and thereby expelleth sweat.

710. COLD sweats are, many times, mortal, and
ear death ; and always ill, and suspected ; as in great

fears, hypochondriacal passions, etc. The cause is,
for that cold sweats come by a relaxation or forsaking
of the spirits, whereby the moisture of the body, which
heat did keep firm in the parts, severeth and issu-
eth out.

711. IN those diseases which cannot be discharged
by sweat, sweat is ill, and rather to be stayed ; as in
diseases of the lungs, and fluxes of the belly: but in
those diseases which are expelled by sweat, it ease th

49O Natural History. [Cent.VIIL

and lighteneth ; as in agues, pestilences, etc. The
cause is, for that sweat in the latter sort is partly critical,
and sendeth forth the matter that offendeth ; but in
the former, it either proceedeth from the labour of
the spirits, which sheweth them oppressed ; or from
motion of consent, when nature, not able to expel the
disease where it is seated, moveth to an expulsion
indifferent over all the body.

Experiment solitary touching the glow-ivorm.

712. THE nature of the glow-worm is hitherto not
well observed. Thus much we see ; that they breed
chiefly in the hottest months of summer; and that they
breed not in champain, but in bushes and hedges.
Whereby it may be conceived, that the spirit of them
is very fine, and not to be refined but by summer
heats : and again, that by reason of the fineness, it
doth easily exhale. In Italy, and the hotter coun-
tries, there is a fly they call Luccwle, that shineth as
the glow-worm doth ; and it may be is the flying glow-
worm. But that fly is chiefly upon fens and marshes.
But yet the two former observations hold ; for they are
not $een but in the heat of summer; and sedge, or
other green of the fens, give as good shade as bushes.
It may be the glow-worms of the cold countries ripen
not so far as to be winged.

Experiments in consort touching the impressions, which
the passions of the mind make upon the body.

7 13. THE passions of the mind work upon the body
the impressions following. Fear causeth paleness,
trembling, the standing of the hair upright, starting
and shrieking. The paleness is caused, for that the
blood runneth inward to succour the heart. The trem-
bling is caused, for that through the flight of the spi-
rits inward, the outward parts are destituted, and not
sustained. Standing upright of the hair is caused,
for that by the shutting of the pores of the skin, the
hair that lieth aslope must needs rise. Starting is both
an apprehension of the thing feared, and in that kind
jt is a motion of shrinking, and likewise an inquisition

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 491

in the beginning, what the matter should be, and in
that kind it is a motion of erection, and therefore
when a man would listen suddenly to any thing, he
starteth ; for the starting is an erection of the spirits
to attend. Shrieking is an appetite of expelling that
which suddenly striketh the spirits : for it must be
noted, that many motions, though they be unprofitable
to expel that which hurteth, yet they are offers of
nature, and cause motions by consent -9 as in groaning,
or crying upon pain.

714. GRIEF and pain cause sighing, sobbing, groan-
ing, screaming, and roaring ; tears, distorting of the
face, grinding of the teeth, sweating. Sighing is
caused by the drawing in of a greater quantity of
breath to refresh the heart that laboureth ; like a
great draught when one is thirsty. Sobbing is the
same thing stronger. Groaning and screaming, and
roaring, are caused by an appetite of expulsion, as
hath been said : for when the spirits cannot expel the
thing that hurteth, in their strife to do it by motion of
consent, they expel the voice. And this is when the
spirits yield, and give over to resist : for if one do
constantly resist pain, he will not groan. Tears are
caused by a contraction of the spirits of the brain ;
which contraction by consequence astringeth the
moisture of the brain, and thereby sendeth tears into
the eyes. And this contraction or compression causeth
also wringing of the hands; for wringing is a gesture
of expression of moisture. The distorting of the face
is caused by a contention, first to bear and resist, and
then to expel; which make th the parts knit first, and
afterwards open. Grinding of the teeth is caused,
likewise, by a gathering and serring of the spirits to-
gether to resist, which maketh the teeth also to sit
hard one against another. Sweating is also a com-
pound motion, by the labour of the spirits, first to
resist, and then to expel.

715. Joy causeth a cheerfulness and vigour in the
eyes, singing, leaping, dancing, and sometimes tears.
All these are the effects of the dilatation and coming
forth of the spirits into the outward parts 5 which

492 Natural History. [Cent. VIII,

maketh them more lively and stirring. We know it
hath been seen, that excessive sudden joy hath caused
present death, while the spirits did spread so much as
they could not retire again. As for tears, they are the
effects of compression of the moisture of the brain,
upon dilatation of the spirits. For compression of
the spirits worketh an expression of the moisture of
the brain by consent, as hath been said in grief. But
then in joy, it worketh it diversly ; namely, by pro-
pulsion of the moisture, when the spirits dilate, and
occupy more room.

716. ANGER causeth paleness in some, and the
going and coming of the colour in others : also trem-
bling in some ; swelling, foaming at the mouth,
stamping, bending of the fist. Paleness, and going
and coming of the colour, are caused by the burning
of the spirits about the heart ; which to refresh them-
selves, call in more spirits from the outward parts.
And if the paleness be alone, without sending forth
the colour again, it is commonly joined with some
fear ; but in many there is no paleness at all, but
contrariwise redness about the cheeks and gills ;
which is by the sending forth of the spirits in an ap-
petite to revenge. Trembling in anger is likewise by
a calling in of the spirits ; and is commonly when
anger is joined with fear. Swelling is caused, both
by a dilatation of the spirits by over-heating, and by a
liquefaction or boiling of the humours thereupon.
Foaming at the mouth is from the same cause, being
an ebullition. Stamping, and bending of the fist,
are caused by an imagination of the act of revenge.

717. LIGHT displeasure or dislike causeth shaking
of the head, frowning and knitting of the brows.
These effects arise from the same causes that trem-
bling and horror do ; namely, from the retiring of the
spirits, but in a less degree. For the shaking of the
head is but a slow and definite trembling ; and is a
gesture of slight refusal ; and we see also, that a dis-
like causeth, often, that gesture of the hand, which
we use when we refuse a thing, or warn it away. The
frowning and knitting of the brows is. a gathering, or

Cent. VIII.] Natural History, 493

serring of the spirits, to resist in some measure. And
\ve see also this knitting of the brows will follow upon
earnest studying, or cogitation of any thing, though
it be without dislike.

718. SHAME causeth blushing, and casting down of
the eyes. Blushing is the resort of blood to the face ;
which in the passion of shame is the part that la-
boureth most. And although the blushing will be
seen in the whole breast if it be naked, yet that is
but in passage to the face. As for the casting down
of the eyes, it proceedeth of the reverence a man
beareth to other men ; whereby, when he is ashamed,
he cannot indure to look firmly upon others : and we
see, that blushing, and the casting down of the eyes
both, are more when we come before many; ore
Pompeii quid tiwllius ? nnnquam non coram pluribus
erubuit : and likewise when we come before great
or reverend persons.

719. PITY causeth sometimes tears; and a flexion
or cast of the eye aside. Tears come from the same
cause that they do in grief: for pity is but grief in
another's behalf. The cast of the eye is a gesture of
aversion, or lothness to behold the object of pity.

720. WONDER causeth astonishment, or an im-
moveable posture of the body ; casting up of the eyes
to heaven, and lifting up of the hands. For asto-
nishment, it is caused by the fixing of the mind upon
one object of cogitation, whereby it doth not spatiate
and transcur, as it useth ; for in wonder the spirits
fly not, as in fear ; but only settle, and are made less
apt to move. As for the casting up of the eyes, and
lifting up of the hands, it is a kind of appeal to the
l)eity, which is the author, by power and providence,
of strange wonders.

721. LAUGHING causeth a dilatation of the mouth
and lips; a continued expulsion of the breath, with
the loud noise, which maketh the interjection of
laughing ; shaking of the breasts and sides ; running
of the eyes with water, if it be violent and continued.
Wherein first it is to be understood, that laughing is
scarce, property, a passion, but hath its source from

4-P4- Natural History. (Cent. VIII.

the intellect ; for in laughing there ever precedeth
a conceit of somewhat ridiculous. And therefore it
is proper to man. Secondly, that the cause of laugh-
ing is but a light touch of the spirits, and not so
deep an impression as in other passions. And there-
fore, that which hath no affinity with the passions of
the mind, it is moved, and that in great vehemency,
only by tickling some parts of the body: and we see
that men even in a grieved state of mind, yet cannot
sometimes forbear laughing. Thirdly, it is ever
joined with some degree of delight : and therefore
exhilaration hath some affinity with joy, though it
be a much lighter motion : res severa est verum
gaudiam. Fourthly, that the object of it is deformity,
absurdity, shrewd turns, and the like. Now to speak
of the causes of the effects before mentioned, where-
unto these general notes give some light. For the
dilatation of the mouth and lips, continued expulsion
of the breath and voice, and shaking of the breast
and sides, they proceed, all, from the dilatation of the
spirits ; especially being sudden. So likewise, the
running of the eyes with water, as hath been formerly
touched, where we spake of the tears of joy and
grief, is an effect of dilatation of the spirits. And for
suddenness, it is a great part of the matter : for we see,
that any shrewd turn that lighteth upon another;
or any deformity, etc. moveth laughter in the instant;
which after a little time it doth not. So we cannot
laugh at any thing after it is stale, but whilst it is
new : and even in tickling, if you tickle the sides,
and give warning ; or give a hard or continued touch,
it doth not move laughter so much.

722. LUST causeth a flagrancy in the eyes and pria-
pism. The cause of both these is, for that in lust, the
sight and the touch are the things desired ; and there-
fore the spirits resort to those parts which are most
affected. And note well in general, for that great
use may be made of the observation, that, evermore,
the spirits, in all passions, resort most to the parts that
labour most, or are most affected. As in the last
which hath been mentioned, they resort to the eyes

Cent. VIII.] Natural History* 495

and vcnereous parts : in fear and anger to the heart :
in shame to the face : and in light dislikes to the
head.

Experiments in consort touching drunkenness.

723. IT hath been observed by the ancients, and is
yet believed, that the sperm of drunken men is un-
fruitful. The cause is, for that it is over-moistened,
and wanteth spissitude: and we have a merry saying,
that they that go drunk to bed get daughters.

724. DRUNKEN men are taken with a plain defect,
or destitution in voluntary motion. They reel; they
tremble ; they cannot stand, nor speak strongly. The
cause is, for that the spirits of the wine oppress the
spirits animal, and occupy part of the place where
they are ; and so make them weak to move. And
therefore drunken men are apt to fall asleep: and
opiates, and stupefactives, as poppy, hen-bane, hem-
lock, etc. induce a kind of drunkenness, by the
grossness of their vapour ; as wine doth by the
quantity of the vapour. Besides, they rob the spirits
animal of their matter whereby they are nourished :
for the spirits of the wine prey upon it as well as
they : and so they make the spirits less supple and
apt to move.

725. DRUNKEN men imagine every thing turneth
round ; they imagine also that things come upon them;
they see not well things afar off; those things that
they see near hand, they see out of their place ; and
sometimes they see things double. The cause of the
imagination that things turn round is, for that the spi-
rits themselves turn, being compressed by the vapour
of the wine, for any liquid body upon compression
turneth, as wre see in water, and it is all one to the
sight, whether the visual spirits move, or the object
moveth, or the medium moveth. And we see that
Jong turning round breedeth the same imagination.
The cause of the imagination that things come upon
them is, for that the spirits visual themselves draw
back; \vhich maketh the object seem to come on ;
and besides, when they see things turn round and

Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

move, fear maketh them think they come upon them.
The cause that they cannot see things afar off, is the
\veaknessofthe spirits; 'for in every megrim or ver-
tigo there is an obtenebrationjoined with a semblance
ot turning round ; which we see also in the lighter
sort of svvoonings. The cause of seeing things out of
their place, is the refraction of the spirits visual ; for
the vapour is as an unequal medium; and it is as the
sight of things out of place in water. The cause of
seeing things double is the swift and unquiet motion
of the spirits, being oppressed, to and fro ; for, as was
said before, the motion of the spirits visual, and the
motion of the object, make the same appearances ;
and for the swift motion of the object, we see, that if
you fillip a lute-string it sheweth double or treble.

726. MEN are sooner drunk with small draughts
than with great. And again, wine sugared inebri-
ateth less than wine pure. The cause of the former
is, for that the wine descendeth not so fast to the
bottom of the stomach, but maketh longer stay in the
upper part of the stomach, and sendeth vapours
faster to the head ; and therefore inebriateth sooner.
And for the same reason, sops in wine, quantity
for quantity, inebriate more than wine of itself. The
cause of the latter is, for that the sugar doth inspissate
the spirits of the wine, and maketh them not so easy
to resolve into vapour. Nay farther, it is thought to
be some remedy against inebriating, if wine sugared
be taken after wine pure. And the same effect is
wrought either by oil or milk, taken upon; much
drinking.

Experiment solitary touching the help or hurt of wine>
though moderately used.

727. THE use of wine in dry and consumed bodies
is hurtful ; in moist and full bodies it is good. The
cause is, for that the spirits of the wine do prey upon
the dew or radical moisture, as they term it, of the
body, and so deceive the animal spirits. But where
there is moisture enough, or superfluous, there wine
helpeth to digest, and desiccate the moisture.

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 497

Experiment solitary touching caterpillars.
728. THE caterpillar is one of the most general of
worms, and breedeth of dew and leaves; for we see
infinite number of caterpillars which breed upon trees
and hedges, by which the leaves of the trees or
hedges are in great part consumed ; as well by their
breeding out of the leaf, as by their feeding upon the
leaf. They breed in the spring chiefly, because then
there is both dew and leaf. And they breed commonly
when the east winds have much blown ; the cause
Whereof is, the dryness of that wind ; for to all vivi-
fication upon putrefaction, it is requisite the matter
be not too moist : and therefore we see they have cob-
webs about them, which is a sign of a slimy dryness ;
as we see upon the ground, whereupon by dew and
sun cobwebs breed all over. We see also the green
caterpillar breedeth in the inward parts of roses, espe-
cially not blown, where the dew sticketh ; but espe-
cially caterpillars, both the greatest, and the most,
breed upon cabbages, which have a fat leaf, and apt
to putrify. The caterpillar, towards the end of sum-
mer, waxeth volatile, and turneth to a butterfly, or
perhaps some other fly. There is a caterpillar that
hath a fur or down upon it, and seemeth to have affi-
nity with the silk-worm.

Experiment solitary touching thejlies cantharides.

729. THE flies cantharides are bred of a worm or
caterpillar, but peculiar to certain fruit-trees ; as are
the fig-tree, the pine-tree, and the wild brier ; all
which bear sweet fruit, and fruit that hath a kind
of secret biting or sharpness : for the fig hath a milk
in it that is sweet and corrosive; the pine-apple hath
a kernel that is strong and abstersive: the fruit of the
brier is said to make children, or those that eat them,
scabbed. And therefore no marvel, though cantha-
rides have such a corrosive and cauterising quality ;
for there is not any other of the insecta, but is bred of
a duller matter. The body of the cantharides is
bright coloured; and it may be, that the delicate co-
loured dragon-flies may have likewise some corrosive
quality.

49* Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

Experiments in consort touching lassitude.

730. LASSITUDE is remedied by bathing, or anoint-
ing with oil and warm water. The cause is, for that
all lassitude is a kind of contusion, and compression
of the parts; and bathing and anointing give a relax-
ation or emollition; and the mixture of oil and water
is better than either of them alone ; because water
entereth better into the pores, and oil after entry
softeneth better. It is found also, that the taking of
tobacco doth help and discharge lassitude. The rea-
son whereof is, partly, because by cheering or com-
forting of the spirits, it openeth the parts compressed
or contused ; and chiefly because it refresheth the
spirits by the opiate virtue thereof, and so dischargeth
weariness, as sleep likewise doth.

731. IN going up a hill, the knees will be most
weary; in going down a hill, the thighs. The cause
is, for that in the lift of the feet, when a man goeth
up the hill, the weight of the body beareth most upon
the knees 5 and in going down the hill, upon the
thighs.

Experiment solitary touching the casting of the skin
and shell in some creatures.

732. THE casting of the skin is by the ancients
compared to the breaking of the secundine, or caul,
but not rightly : for that were to make every casting
of the skin a new birth : and besides the secundine is
but a general cover, not shaped according to the
parts, but the skin is shaped according to the parts.
The creatures that cast their skin are, the snake, the
viper, the grasshopper, the lizard, the silk-worm, etc.
Those that cast their shell are, the lobster, the crab,
the crawfish, the hodmandod or dodman, the tortoise,
etc. The old skins are found, but the old shells ne-
ver: so as it is like, they scale off, and crumble away
by degrees. And they are known by the extreme ten-
derness and softness of the new shell, and sometimes
by the freshness of the colour of it. The cause of the
casting of skin and shell should seem to be the great

Cent. VIII.] . Natural History. 4-99

quantity of matter in those creatures that is fit to make
skin or shell: and again, the looseness of the skin or
shell, that sticketh not close to the fish. For it is cer-
tain, that it is the new skin or shell that putteth off the
the old : so we see, that in deer it is the young horn
that putteth off the old ; and in birds, the young lea-
thers put off the old : and so birds that have much
matter for their beak, cast their beaks, the new beak
putingoff the old.

Experiments in consort toucliing the postures of the

body.

733. LYING not erect, but hollow, which is in the
making of the bed; or with the legs gathered up,
which is in the posture of the body, is the more
wholesome. The reason is, the better comforting of
the stomach, which is by that less pensile : and we
see that in weak stomachs, the laying up of the legs
high, and the knees almost to the mouth, helpeth and
comforteth. We see also, that galley-slaves, notwith-
standing their misery otherwise, are commonly fat and
fleshy ; and the reason is, because the stomach is sup-
ported somewhat in sitting, and is pensile in stand-
ing or going. And therefore, for prolongation of
life, it is good to choose those exercises where the
limbs move more than the stomach and belly; as in
rowing, and in sawing being set.

734. MEGRIMS and giddiness are rather when we
rise after long sitting, than while we sit. The cause
is, for that the vapours, which were gathered by sitting,
by the sudden motion fly more up into the head.

735. LEANING long upon any part maketh it numb,
and as we call it asleep. The cause is, for that the
compression of the part suffereth not the spirits to
have free access; and therefore when we come out of
it, we feel a stinging or pricking, which is the re-
entrance of the spirits.

Experiment solitary touching pestilential years.

736. IT hath been noted, that those years are pes-
tilential and unvvholsome, when there are great

50O Naiural History. [Cent. VIII.

numbers of frogs, flies, locusts, etc. The cause is
plain ; for that those creatures being engendered of
putrefaction, when they abound, shew a general dis-
position of the year, and constitution of the air, to
diseases of putrefaction. And the same prognostic,
as hath been said before, holdeth, if you find worms
in oak-apples: for the constitution of the air appear-
cth more subtilly in any of these things, than to the
sense of man.

Experiment solitary touching the prognostics of hard

winters.

737. IT is an observation amongst country people,
that years of store ofhaws and hips do commonly por-
tend cold winters; and theyasciibe it to God's provi-
dence, that, as the Scripture saith, reacheth even the
falling of a sparrow ; and much more is like to reach to
the preservation of birds in such seasons. The natural
cause also may be the want of heat, and abundance
of moisture, in the summer precedent ; which putteth
forth those fruits, and must needs leave great quan-
tity of cold vapours not dissipated ; which causeth the
cold of the winter following.

Experiment solitary touching medicines that condense
and relieve the spirits..

738. THEY have in Turkey a drink called coffee,
made of a berry of the same name, as black as soot,
and of a strong scent, but not aromatical; which they
take, beaten into powder, in water, as hot as they can
drink it : and they take it, and sit at it in their coffee-
houses, which are like our taverns. This drink com-
forteth the brain and heart, and helpeth digestion.
Certainly this berry coffee, the root and leaf beetle,
the leaf tobacco, and the tear of poppy, opium, of
\vhich the Turks are great takers, supposing it expel-
leth all fear, do all condense the spirits, and make
them stronger and aleger. But it seemeth they are
taken after several manners; for coffee and opium are
taken down, tobacco but in smoke, and beetle is but
Champed in the mouth with a little lime. It is like

Ceilt. \

Ccrtt. VIII.] Natural History. 501

there arc more of them, if they were Well found out,
and well corrected. Query, of henbane-seed 5 of
mandrake ; of saffron, root and flower ; of folium Mi-
aim; of ambergrease ; of the Assyrian amoinum, if it
may be had ; and of the scarlet powder which they
call kmnc-s-, and. generally, of all such things as do
inebriate and provoke sleep. Note, that tobacco is
not taken in root or seed, which are more forcible
ever than leaves.

solitary touching paintings of the body.

739. THE Turks have a black powder,, made of a
mineral called alcohol, which with a fine long pencil
they lay under their eye-lids, which doth colour them
black; whereby the white of the eye is set off
more white. With the same powder they colour also
the hairs of their eye-lids, and of their eye-brows,
which they draw into em bo wed arches. You shall
find that Xenophon maketh mention, that the Medes
used to paint their eyes. The Turks use with the
same tincture to colour the hair of their heads and
beards black. And divers with us that are grown
grey, and yet would appear young, find means to
make their hair black, by combing it, as they say,
with a leaden comb, or the like. As for the Chinese,
who are of an ill complexion, being olivaster, they
paint their cheeks scarlet, especially their king and
grandees. Generally, barbarous people, that go
naked, do not only paint themselves, but they pounce
and raise their skin, that the painting may not be taken
forth ; and make it into works. So do the West In-
dians; and so did the ancient Picts and Britons; so
that it seemeth men would have the colours of birds
feathers, if they could tell how; or at least they will
have gay skins instead of gay clothes.

Experiment solitary touching the use of ba thing and
anointing.

740. IT is strange, that the use of bathing, as a
part of diet, is left. With the Romans and Grecians
it was as usual as eating or sleeping ; and so is it

VOL. i, K K

502 Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

amongst the Turks at this day ; whereas with us it re-
maineih but as a part of physic. I am of opinion,
that the use of it, as it was with the Romans, was
hurtful to health ; for that it made the body soft and
easy to waste. For the Turks it is more proper, be-
cause that their drinking water and feeding upon rice
and other food of small nourishment, maketh their
bodies so solid and hard, as you need not fear that-
bathing should make them frothy. Besides, the Turks
are great sitters, and seldom walk, whereby they
sweat less, and need bathing more. But yet certain
it is that bathing, and especially anointing, may be so
used as it may be a great help to health, and prolon-
gation of life. But hereof we shall speak in due
place, when we come to handle experiments medi-
cinal.'

Experiment solitary touching cambleting of paper.

741. THE Turks have a pretty art of cambleting of
paper, \vhich is not with us in use. They take divers
oiled colours, and put them severally, in drops, upon
water, and stir the water lightly, and then wet their
paper, being of some thickness, with it, and the paper
will be waved and veined^ like camblet or marble.

Experiment solitary touching cuttle-ink.

742. IT is somewhat strange, that the blood of all
birds and beasts and fishes should be of a red colour,
and only the blood of the cuttle should be as black as
ink. A man would think, that the cause should be
the high concoction of that blood ; for we see in ordi-
nary puddings, that the boiling turneth the blood to
be black ; and the cuttle is accounted a delicate meat,
and is much in request.

Experiment solitary touching increase of weight inearth.

743. Ir is reported of credit, that if you take earth
from land adjoining to the river of Nile, and preserve
it in that manner that it neither come to be wet nor
wasted; and weigh it daily, it will not alter weight until
the seventeenth of June, which is the day when the

Cent. VIII.] Natural History.

river beginncth to rise; and then it will grow more
and more ponderous, till the rivercomethto its height.
Which if it be true, it cannot be caused but by the air,
which then beginneth to condense ; and so turneth
within that small mold into a degree of moisture,which
produceth weight. So it hath been observed, that to-
bacco cut, and weighed, and then dried by the fire,
loseth weight; and after being laid in the open air,
recovcreth weight again. And it should seem, that
as soon as ever the river beginneth to increase, the
whole body of the air thereabouts sufFereth a change :
for, that which is more strange, it is credibly affirmed,
that upon that very day when the river first riseth,
great plagues in Cairo use suddenly to break up.

Experiments in consort touching sleep. *

74 1-. THOSE that are very cold, and especially in
their feet, cannot get to sleep : the cause may be, for
that in sleep is required a free respiration, which
cold doth shut in and hinder; for we see that in great
colds, one can scarce draw his breath. Another
cause may be, for that cold calleth the spirits to suc-
cour; and therefore they cannot so well close, and go
together in the head; which is ever requisite to sleep.
And for the same cause, pain and noise hinder sleep 5
and darkness, contrariwise, furthereth sleep.

745. SOME noises, whereof we spake in the hun-
dred and twelfth experiment, help sleep : as the blow^
ing of the wind, the trickling of water, humming of
bees, soft singing, reading, etc. The cause is, for
that they move in the spirits a gentle attention ; and
whatsoever moveth attention without too much labour
Stilleth the natural and discursive motion of the spirits.

746. SLEKP nourisheth, or at least preserveth bo-
dies a long time, without other nourishment. Beasts
that sleep in the winter, as it is noted of wild bears,
during their sleep wax very fat, though they eat no-
thing. Bats have been found in ovens, and other hoi-
Jo w close places, matted one upon another: and
therefore it is likely that they sleep in the winter time,
and eat nothing. Query, whether bees do not sleep

K K 2

504- Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

all winter, and spare their honey ? Butterflies, and
other flies, do not only sleep, but lie as dead all win-
ter; and yet with a little heat of sun or fire, revive
again. A dormouse ^ both winter and summer, will
sleep some days together, and eat nothing,

Experiments in consort touching teeth and hard sub-
stances in the bodies of living creatures.

To restore teeth in age, were magnale nature. It
may be thought of. But howsoever, the nature of
the teeth deserveth to be inquired of, as well as the
other parts of living creatures bodies.

747. THERE be five parts in the bodies of living
creatures, that are of hard substance ; the skull; the
the teeth, the bones, the horns, and the nails. The
greatest quantity of hard substance continued, is to-
wards the head. For there is the skull of one intire
bone ; there are the teeth ; there are the maxillary
bones; there is the hard bone that is the instrument of
hearing ; and thence issue the horns : so that the build-
ing of living creatures bodies is like the building of a
timber house, where the walls and other parts have
columns and beams ; but the roof is, in the better
sort of houses, all tile, or lead, or stone. As for birds,
they have three other hard substances proper to them ;
the bill, which is of like matter with the teeth ; for
no birds have teeth : the shell of the egg : and their
quills : for as for their spur, it is but a nail. But
no living creatures, that have shells very hard, as
oisters, cockles, muscles, scallops, crabs, lobsters,
craw-fish, shrimps, and especially the tortoise, have
bones within them, but only little gristles.

748. BONES, after full growth, continue at a stay ;
and so doth the skull: horns, in some creatures, are
cast and renewed : teeth stand at a stay, except their
wearing : as for nails, they grow centinually : and bills
and beaks will overgrow, and sometimes be cast ; as
in eagles and parrots.

749. MOST of the hard substances fly to the ex-
tremes of the body: as skull, horns, teeth, nails, and
beaks : only the bones are more inward, and clad with

Cent. VIIL] Natural History. 505

flesh. As for the entrails, they are all without bones ;
save that a bone is, sometimes, found in the heart of
a stag ; and it may be in some other creature.

750. THE skull hath brains, as a kind of marrow,
within it. The back-bone hath one kind of marrow,
which hath an affinity with the brain ; and other bones
of the body have another. The jaw-bones have no
marrow severed, but a little pulp of marrow diffused.
Teeth likewise are thought to have a kind of marrow
diffused, which causcth the sense of pain; but it is
rather sinew ; for marrow hath no sense ; no more
than blood. Horn is alike throughout; and so is
the nail.

751. NONE other of the hard substances have sense,
but the teeth ; and the teeth have sense, not only of
pain but of cold.

But we will leave the inquiries of other hard sub-
stances to their several places ; and now inquire only
of the teeth.

752. THE teeth are, in men, of three kinds :
sharp, as the fore-teeth : broad, as the back-teeth,
which we call the molar-teeth, or grinders ; and point-
ed teeth, or canine, which are between both. But
there have been sonic men, that have had their teeth
undivided, as of one whole bone, with some little
mark in the place qf the division ; as Pyrrhus had.
Some creatures have over-long or out-growing teeth,
which we call fangs, or tusks : as boars, pikes, sal-
mons, and dogs, though less. Some living creatures
have teeth against teeth ; as men and horses ; and
some have teeth, especially their master-teeth, in-
dented one within another like saws, as lions ; and so
again have dogs. Some fishes have divers rows of
teeth in the roofs of their mouths ; as pikes, salmons,
trouts, etc. Ahd many more in salt waters. Snakes,
and other serpents, have venomous teeth ; which are
sometimes mistaken for their sting.

753. No beast that hath horns hath upper teeth ;
and no beast that hath teeth above wanteth them be-
low : but yet if they be of the same kind, it followeth
not, that if the hard matter goeth not into upper teeth.

506 Natural History. [Cent. VI IL

it will go into horns ; nor yet e converse ; for does,
that have no horns, have no upper teeth.

754. HORSES have, at three years old, a tooth put
forth, which they call the colt's tooth ; and at four
years old there cometh the mark tooth, which hath a
hole as big as you may lay a pea within it ; and that
weareth shorter and shorter every year; till that at
eight years old the tooth is smooth, and the hole gone ;
and then they say, that the mark is out of the horse *s
mouth.

755. THE teeth of men breed first, when the child
is about a year and half old : -and then they cast them,
and new come about seven years old. But divers
have backward teeth come forth at twenty, yea some
at thirty and forty. Query, of the manner of the com-
ing of them forth. They tell a tale of the old Countess
of Desmond, who lived till she was sevenscore years
old, that she did dentite twice or thrice ; casting her
old teeth, and others coming in their place.

756. TEETH are much hurt by sweetmeats ; and by
painting with mercury ; and by things overhot ; and
by things over-cold ; and by rheums. And the paiu.
of the teeth is one of the sharpest of pains.

757. CONCERNING teeth, these things are to be con-
sidered. 1. The preserving of them. 2. The keep-
ing of them white. 3. The drawing of them with
least pain. 4. The staying and easing of the tooth-
ach. 5. The binding in of artificial teeth, where
teeth have been strucken out. 6. And last of all, that
great one of restoring teeth in age. The instances
that give any likelihood of restoring teeth in age,
are the late coming of teeth in some ; and the renew-
ing of the beaks in birds, which are commaterial with
teeth. Query, therefore, more particularly how that
cometh. And again, the renewing of horns. But
yet that hath not been known to have been pro-
voked by art ; therefore let trial be made, whether
horns may be procured to grow in beasts that are not
horned, and how ? And whether they may be pro-
cured to come larger than usual; as to make an ox
or a deer have a greater head of horns ? And whether

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 507

the head of a deer, that by age is more spitted, may be
brought again to be more branched ? for these trials,
and the like, will shew, whether by art such hard
matter can be called and provoked. It may be tried,
also, whether birds may not have something done to
them when they are young, whereby they may be
made to have greater or longer bills ; or greater and
longer talons ? And whether children may not have
some wash, or something to make their teeth better
and stronger ? Coral is in use as an help to the teeth
of children.

in consort touching the generation and
bearing of living creatures in the womb.
758. SOME living creatures generate but at certain
seasons of the year ; as deer, sheep, wild conies, etc.
and most sorts of birds and fishes : others at any time
of the year, as men ; and all domestic creatures, as
horses, hogs, dogs, cats, etc. The cause of genera-
tion at all seasons seemeth to be fulness: for genera-
tion is from redundance. This fulness ariseth from
two causes ; either from the nature of the creature, if
it be hot, and moist, and sanguine ; or from plenty
of food. For the first, men, horses, dogs, etc. which
breed at all seasons, are full of heat and moisture ;
doves are the fullest of heat and moisture amongst
birds, and therefore breed often ; the tame dove al-
most continually. But deer are a melancholy dry
creature, as appeareth by their fearfulness, and the
hardness of their flesh. Sheep are a cold creature, as
appeareth by their mildness, and for that they seldom
drink. Most sort of birds are of a dry substance in
comparison of beasts. Fishes are cold. For the se-
cond cause, fulness of food ; men, kine, swine, dogs,
etc. feed full ; and we see that those creatures, which
being wild, generate seldom, being tame, generate
often ; which is from warmth, and fulness of food.
We find, that the time of going to rut of deer is in
September ; for that they need the whole summer's
feed and grass to make them fit for generation. And
if rain come early about the middle of September,

508 Natural History. [Cent. VJII.

they go to rut somewhat the sooner ; if drought, some-
what the later. So sheep, in respect of their small
heat, generate about the same time, or somewhat be-
fore. But for the most part, creatures that generate
at certain seasons, generate in the spring : as birds
and fishes ; for that the end of the winter, and the heat
and comfort of the spring prepareth them. There is
also another reason, why some creatures generate at
certain seasons ; and that is the relation of their time
of bearing, to the time of generation ; for no creature
goeth to generate whilst the female is full} nor whilst
she is busy in sitting, or rearing her young. And
therefore it is found by experience, that if you take
the eggs or young ones, out of the nests of birds, they
will fall to generate again three or four times one after
another.

759. OF living creatures, some are longer time in
the womb, and some shorter. Women go commonly
nine months; the cow and the ewe about six months ;
does go about nine months ; mares eleven months :
bitches nine weeks ; elephants are said to go two
years ; for the received tradition of ten years is fabu-
lous. For birds there is double inquiry; the distance
between the treading or coupling, and the laying of
the egg ; and again, between the egg laid, and the
disclosing or hatching. And amongst birds, there is
]ess diversity of time, than amongst other creatures;
yet some there is; for the hen sitteth but three weeks,
the turkey-hen, goose, and duck, a month ; Qnery., of
others. The cause of the great difference of times
amongst living creatures, is, either from the nature
of the kind, or from the constitution of the womb.
For the former, those that are longer in cptm,ing to
their maturity or growth, are longer in the womb ; as
is chiefly seen in men : and so elephants, which are.
long in the womb, are long time in coming to their full
growth. J3ut in most other kinds, the constitution
of the womb, that is, the hardness or dryness thereof,
is concurrent with the former cause. For the colt
hath about four years of growth ; and so the fawn;
and so the calf. But whelps, which come to their

Cent. VIII.] Natural History.

growth, commonly, within three quarters of a year,
are but nine weeks in the womb. As for birds, a:->
there is less diversity in the time of their bringing
forth ; so there is less diversity in the time of their
growth ; most of them coming to their growth within
a twelvemonth.

7 GO. SOME creatures bring forth many young ones
at a burden : as bitches, hares, conies, etc. Some
ordinarily but one ; as women, lionesses, etc. This
may be caused, either by the quantity of sperm re-
quired to the producing one of that kind ; which if
less be required, may admit greater number ; if more,
fewer : or by the partitions and cells of the womb,
which may sever the sperm.

Experiments in consort touching species visible.

761. THERE is no doubt, but light by refraction
will shew greater, as well as things coloured. For
like as a shilling in the bottom of the water will shew
greater; so will a candle in a lanthorn, in the bottom
of the water. I have heard of a practice, that glow-
worms in glasses were put in the water to make the
fish come. But I am not yet informed, whether when
a diver diveth, having his eyes open, and swimmerh
upon his back ; whether, I say, he seeth things in
the air, greater or less. For it is manifest, that when
the eye standeth in the finer medium, and the object is in
the grosser, things shew greater ; but contrariwise,
when the eye is placed in the grosser medium, and
the object in the finer, how it worketh I know not.

762. Ir would be well bolted out, whether great
refractions may not be made upon reflexions, as well
as upon direct beams. For example, we see, that
take an empty bason, put an angel of gold, or what
you will into it; then go so far from the bason, till
you cannot see the angel, because it is not in a right
line; then fill the bason with water, and you shall see
it out of its place, because of the reflexion. To pro-
ceed therefore, put a looking-glass into a bason of
water; I suppose you shall not see the image in a
right line, or at equal angles, but aside. I know not

510 Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

whether this experiment may not be extended so, as
you might see the image, and not the glass; which
for beauty and strangeness were a fine proof: for then
you shall see the image like a spirit in the air. As
for example, if there be a cistern or pool of water,
you shall place over against it a picture of the devil,
or what you will, so as you do not see the water.
Then put a looking-glass in the water: now if you
can see the devil's picture aside, not seeing the water,
it would look like a devil indeed. They have an old
tale in Oxford, that Friar Bacon walked between two
steeples : which was thought to be done by glasses,
when he walked upon the ground.

Experiments in consort touching impulsion and per-
cussion.

763. A WEIGHTY body put into motion is more easily
impelled than at first when it resteth. The cause is
partly because motion doth discuss the torpor of solid
bodies; which, beside their motion of gravity, have
in them a natural appetite not to move at all ; and
partly, because a body that resteth, doth get, by the
resistance of the body upon which it resteth, a stronger
compression of parts than it hath of itself : and there-
fore needeth more force to be put in motion. For if
a weighty body be pensile, and hang but by a thread,
the percussion will make an impulsion very near as
easily as if -it were already in motion.

764. A BODY over great or over small, will not be
thrown so far as a body of a middle size : so that, it
seemeth, there must be a commensuration, or pro-
portion between the body moved and the force, to
make it move well.. The cause is, because to the im-
pulsion there is requisite-trie force of the body that
moveth, and the resistance of the body that is moved :
and if the body be too great, ityieldethtoo little; and
if it be too small, it resisteth too little.

765. IT is common experience, that no weight will
press or cut so strong, being laid upon a body, as
tailing or strucken from above. It may be the air
hath 'some part in furthering the percussion ; but the

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 5 1 1

chief cause I take to be, for that the parts of the
body moved have by impulsion, or by the motion of
gravity continued, a compression in them, as well
downwards, as they have when they are thrown, or
shot through the air, forwards. I conceive also, that
the quick loss of that motion prevcnteth the resistance
of the body below ; and priority of the force always
is of great efficacy, as appeareth in infinite instances.

Experiment solitary touching titillation.
76(5. TICKLING is most in the soles of the feet, and
under the ami-holes, and on the sides. The cause is
the thinness of the skin in those parts, joined with the
rareness of being touched there : for all tickling is a
light motion of the spirits, which the thinness of the
skin> and suddenness and rareness of touch do fur-
ther : for we see a feather, or a rush, drawn along the
lip or cheek, doth tickle ; whereas a thing more ob-
tuse, or a touch more hard, doth not. And for sudden-
ness, we see no man can tickle himself: we see also that
the palm of the hand, though it hath as thin a skin as
the other parts mentioned, yet is not ticklish, because it
is accustomed to be touched. Tickling also causeth
laughter. The cause may be the emission of the spi-
rits, and so of the breath, by a flight from titillation ;
for upon tickling we see there is ever a starting or
shrinking away of the part to avoid it ; and we see
also, that if you tickle the nostrils with a feather, or
straw, it procureth sneezing ; which is a sudden
emission of the spirits, that do likewise expel the
moisture. And tickling is ever painful, and not well
endured.

Experiment solitary touching the scarcity of rain in

Egypt,

767.1frisstrange,that the river ofNilus overflowing,
as it doth, the country of Egypt, there should be, ne-
vertheless, little or no rain in that country. The
cause must be either in the nature of the water, or in
the nature of the air, or of both. In the water, it
may be ascribed either unto the long race of the wa-

5 1 2 Xatural History. [Cent. VIII.

ter ; for swift-running waters vapour not so much as
standing waters; or else to the concoction of the wa-
ter ; for waters well concocted vapour not so much as
waters raw ; no more than waters upon the fire do va-
pour so much after some time of boiling as at the first.
And it is true that the water of Nilus is sweeter than
other waters in taste ; and it is excellent good for the
stone, and hypochondriacal melancholy, which shew-
eth it is lenifying; and it runneth through a country of
a hot climate, and flat, without shade, either of woods
or hills, whereby the sun must needs have great
power to concoct it. As for the air, from whence I
conceive this want of showers cometh chiefly, the cause
must be, for that the air is of itself thin and thirsty;
and as soon as ever it getteth any moisture from the
water, it imbibeth and dissipateth it in the whole
body of the air, and suffereth it not to remain in va-
pour, whereby it might breed rain.

Experiment solitary touching clarification.

768. Ir hath been touched in the title of percola-
tions, namely, such as are inwards, that the whites
of eggs and milk do clarify ; and it is certain, that in
Egypt they prepare and clarify the water of -Nile, by
putting it into great jars of stone, and stirring it about
with a few stamped almonds, wherewith they also be-
smear the mouth of the vessel; and so draw it off, after it
hath rested some time. It were good to try this cla-
rifying with almonds in new beer, or muste, to hasten
and perfect the clarifying.

Experiment solitary touching plants zvithout leaves.

769. THERE be scarce to be found any vegetables,
that have branches and no leaves, except you allow
coral for one. But there is also in the desarts of
S. Maccaria in Egypt, a plant which is long, leafless,
brown of colour, and branched like coral, save that
it closeth at the top. This being set in water within
a house, spreadeth and displayed! strangely ; and the
people thereabout have a superstitious belief, that
in the labour of women it hclpeth to the easy de-
luerance.

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 5 1 3

Erperiment soli fan/ touching the material: of glass.

770. THE crystalline Venice glass is reported to be
a mixture in equal portions of stones brought from
Pavia by the river Ticinum, and the ashes ot a weed,
called by the Arabs kal, which is gathered in a desart
between Alexandria and Rosetta ; and is by the
Egyptians used first for fuel ; and then they crush
the ashes into lumps like a stone, and so sell them to
the Venetians for their glass-works.

Experiment solitary touching prohibition of put refaction 9
and the long conservation of bodies.

*T? »/

771. IT is strange, and well to be noted, how long
carcases have continued uncorrupt, and in their for-
mer dimensions, as appeareth in the mummies of
Egypt ; having lasted, as is conceived, some of them,
three thousand years. It is true, they find means to
draw forth the brains, and to take forth the entrails,
which are the parts aptest to corrupt. But that is no-
thing to the wonder: for we see what a soft and cor-
ruptible substance the flesh of all the other parts of
the body is. But it should seem, that, according to
our observation and axiom in our hundredth experi-
ment, putrefaction, which we conceive to be so na-
tural a period of bodies, is but an accident ; and
that matter maketh not that haste to corruption that
is conceived. And therefore bodies in shining amber,
in quicksilver, in balms, whereof we now speak, in
wax, in honey, in gums, and, it may be, in conserva-
tories of snow, etc. are preserved very long. It need
not go for repetition, if we resume again that which
\ve said in the atoresaid experiment concerning an-
nihilation ; namely, that if you provide against three
causes of putrefaction, bodies will not corrupt : the
first is, that the air be excluded, for that undermineth
the body, and conspireth with the spirit of the body
to dissolve it. The second is, that the body adjacent
and ambient be not commaterial, but merely hetero-
geneal towards the body that is to be preserved ; for
if nothing can be received by the one, nothing can

5 1 4 Natural History. [Cent. VIII*

issue from the other; such are quicksilver and white
amber, to herbs, and flies, and such bodies. The
third is, that the body to be preserved be not of that
gross that it may corrupt \vitliin itself, although no
part of it issue into the body adjacent : and therefore
it must be rather thin and small, than of bulk.
There is a fourth remedy also, which is, that if the
body to be preserved be of bulk, as a corpse is, then
the body that incloseth it must have a virtue to draw
forth, and dry the moisture of the inward body ; for
else the putrefaction will play within, though nothing
issue forth. I remember Livy doth relate, that there
were found at a time two coffins of lead in a tomb ;
whereof the one contained the body of king Numa,
it being some four hundred years after his death : and
the other, his books of sacred rites and ceremonies*
and the discipline of the pontiffs ; and that in the
coffin that had the body, there was nothing at all to
be seen, but a little light cinders about the sides -y but
in the coffin that had the books, they were found as
fresh as if they had been but newly written, being
Xvritten on parchment, and covered over with watch-
candles of wax three or four. fold. By this it seemeth
that the Romans in Numa's time were not so good
embalmers as the Egyptians were ; which was the
cause that the body was utterly consumed. But I find
in Plutarch, and others, that when Augustus Caesar
visited the sepulchre of Alexander the Great in
Alexandria, he found the body to keep its dimension ;
but withal, that notwithstanding all the embalming,
which no doubt was of the best, the body was so
tender, as Caesar, touching but the nose of it, defaced
it. Which maketh me find it very strange, that the
Egyptian mummies should be reported to be as hard
as stone-pitch -y for I find no difference but one, which
indeed may be very material ; namely, that the an-
cient Egyptian mammies were shrowded in a num-
ber of folds of linen, besmeared with gums, in manner
of sear-cloth, which it doth not appear was practised
upon the body of Alexander.

Cent. VIII.] Natural History.

Experiment solitary touching the abundance of nitre in
certain sea-shores.

772. NEAR the castle of Caty, and by the wells of
Assan, in the land of Jdumiea, a great part of the
way you would think the sea were near at hand,
though it be a good distanee off: and it is nothing
but the shining of the nitre upon the sea sands, such
abundance of nitre the shores there do put forth.

Experiment solitary touching bodies that are borne up by

wafer.

773. THE dead-sea, which vomiteth up bitumen, is
of that crassitude, as living bodies bound hand and
foot cast into it have been borne up, and not sunk ;
which sheweth, that all sinking into water is but an
over-weight of the body put into the water in respect
of the water ; so that you may make water so strong
and heavy of quicksilver, perhaps, or the like, as may
bear up iron; of which I see no use3 but imposture.
We see also, that all metals, except gold, for the same
reason, swim upon quicksilver.

Experiment solitary touching fuel that consumeth litllz
or nothing *

O

774. IT is reported, that at the foot of a hill near
the mare mortuum there is a black stone, whereof
pilgrims make fires, which burneth like a coal, and
diminished! not, but only waxeth brighter and whiter.
That it should do so is not strange 5 for we see iron red-
hot burneth, and consumeth not; but the strangeness
is, that it should continue any time so : for iron, as
soon as it is out of^ the fire, deadeneth straitways.
Certainly it were a thing of great use and profit, if
you could find out fuel that would burn hot, and yet
last long : neither am I altogether incredulous, but
there may be r such candles as they say are made of
salamander's wool ; being a kind of mineral, which
whiteneth also in the burning, and consumeth not.
The question is this ; flame must be made of some-
what, and commonly it is made of some tangible,

516 Natural History. [Cent; VIII.

body which hath weight : but it is not impossible
perhaps that it should be made of spirit, or vapour, in
a body, which spirit or vapour hath no weight, such as
is the matter of ignis falmts. But then you will say,
that that vapour also can last but a short time : to
that it may be answered, that by the help of oil and
wax, and other candle-stuff, the flame may continue,
and the wick not burn.

Experiment solitary economical touching cheap fuel.

775. SEA-COAL lasts longer than charcoal ; and
charcoal of roots, being coaled into great pieces, lasts
longer than ordinary charcoal. Turf and peat, and
cowsheards, are cheap fuels, and last long. Small-
coal, or brier-coal, poured upon charcoal, make them
Jast longer. Sedge is a cheap fuel to brew or bake
with : the rather because it is good for nothing else.
Trial should be made of some mixture of sea-coal
with earth or chalk ; for if that mixture be, as the
sea-coal men use it, privily, to make the bulk of the
coal greater, it is deceit ; but if it be used purposely,
and be made known, it is saving.

Experiment solitary touching the gathering of wind for
freshness.

776. IT is at this day in use in Gaza, to couch
potsherds or vessels of earth in their walls, to gather
the wind from the top, and to pass it down in spouts
into rooms. It is a device for freshness in great heats :
and it is said, there are some rooms in Italy and Spain
for freshness, and gathering the winds and air in the
heats of summer ; but they be but pennings of the
winds, and enlarging them again, and making them
reverberate, and go round in circles, rather than this
device of spouts in the wall.

Experiment solitary touching the trials of airs.

777. THERE should be used much diligence in the
choice of some bodies and places, as it were, for the
tasting of air ; to discover the wholesomeness or un-
wholesomeness, as well of seasons, as of the seats of

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 5 1 7

dwellings. It is certain, that there be some houses
wherein confitures and pies will gather mould more
than in others. And I am persuaded, that a piece of
raw flesh or fish will sooner corrupt in some airs than
in others. They be noble experiments that can make
this discovery; for they serve for a natural divination
of seasons, better than the astronomers can by their
figures : and again they teach men where to chuse
their dwelling for their better health.

Experiment solitary touching increasing of milk in milch

beasts.

778. THERE is a kind of stone about Bethlehem,
which they grind to powder, and put into water,
whereof cattle drink, which maketh them give more
milk. Surely there should be some better trials made
of mixtures of water in ponds for cattle, to make them
more milch, or to fatten them, or to keep them from
murrain. It may be chalk and nitre are of the best.

Experiment solitary touching sand of the nature of
glass.

779. Ir is reported, that in the valley near the
mountain Carmei in Judea there is a sand, which of
all other hath most affinity with glass: insomuch as
other minerals laid in it turn to a glassy substance
without the fire; and again, glass put into it turneth
into the mother sand. The thing is very strange, it it
be true : and it is likeliest to be caused by some na-
tural furnace or heat in the earth : and yet they do not
speak of any eruption of flames. It were good to try
in glass-works, whether the crude materials of glass,
mingled with glass already made, and remolten, do
not facilitate the making of glass with less heat.

Experiment solit anj touching the growth of coral.

780. IN the sea, upon the south-west of Sicily,
much coral is found. It is a submarine plant. It
hath no leaves: it branchevh only when it is under
water; it is soft, and given of colour; but being
brought into the air, it becometh hard and shining

•v

VOL. I. LL

5 1 3 Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

red, as we see. It is said also to have a white berry ;
but we find it not brought over with the coral. Be-
like it is cast away as nothing worth : inquire better
of it, for the discovery of the nature of the plant.

Experiment solitary touching the gathering of manna.

781. THE manna of Calabria is the best, and in
most plenty. They gather it from the leaf of the
mulberry-tree ; but not of such mulberry-trees as grow
in the vallies. And manna falleth upon the leaves
by night, as other dews do. It should seem, that be-
fore those dews come upon trees in the vallies, they
dissipate and cannot hold out. It should seem also, the
mulberry-leaf itself hath some coagulating virtue,
which inspissateth the dew, for that it is not found
upon other trees; and we see by the silk-worm, which
feedeth upon that leaf, what a dainty smooth juice it
hath ; and the leaves also, especially of the black
mulberry, are somewhat bristly, which may help to
preserve the dew. Certainly it were not amiss to ob-
serve a little better the dews that fall upon trees, or
herbs growing on mountains ; for it may be many dews
fall, that spend before they come to the vallies,
And I suppose, that he that would gather the best
May-dew for medicine, should gather it from the
hills.

Experiment solitary touching the correcting of wine.

782. IT is said they have a manner to prepare
their Greek wines, to keep them from fuming and
inebriating, by adding some sulphur or allum : whereof
the one is unctuous, and the other is astringent. And
certain it is, that those two natures do best repress
fumes. This experiment should be transferred unto
other wine and strong beer, by putting in some like
substances while they work ; which may make them
both to fume less, and to inflame less.

'Experiment solitary touching the materials of wild-fire.

783. IT is conceived by some, not improbably,
that the reason why wild-fires, whereof the principal

Cent. VIII. ] Natural History. 5 1 9

ingredient is bitumen, do not quench with water, is,
for that the first concretion of bitumen is a mixture of
a fiery and watery substance ; so is not sulphur. This
appeareth, for that in the place near Puteoli, which
they call the court of Vulcan, you shall hear under the
earth a horrible thundering of fire and water con-
fiicting together; and there break forth also spouts of
boiling water. Now that place yieldeth great quan-
tities of bitumen ; whereas ^Etna and Vesuvius, and
the like, which consist upon sulphur, shoot forth
smoke, and ashes, and pumice, but no water. It
is reported also, that bitumen mingled with lime, and
put under water, will make as it were an artificial
rock ; the substance becometh so hard.

Experiment solitary touching plaister growing as hard

as marble.

781. THERE is a cement, compounded of flour,
xvhites of eggs, and stone powdered, that becometh
hard as marble : wherewith Piscina Mirabilis, near
Cuma, is said to have the walls plaistered. And it is
certain and tried, that the powder of loadstone and
fiint, by the addition of whites of eggs, and gum-
dragon, made into paste, will in a few days harden
to the hardness of a stone.

Experiment solitary touching judgment of the cure in
some ulcers and hurts.

785. IT hath been nated by the antients, that in
full or impure bodies, ulcers or hurts in the legs are
hard to cure, and in the head more easy. The cause
is, for that ulcers or hurts in the legs require desicca-
tion, which by thedefluxion of humours to the lower
parts is hindered ; whereas hurts and ulcers in the
head require it not ; but contrariwise dryness maketh
them more apt to consolidate. And in modern ob-
servation, the like difference hath been found between
Frenchmen and Englishmen; whereof the one's con-
stitution is more dry, and the other's more moist.
And therefore a hurt of the head is harder to cure in

Frenchman, and of the leg in an Englishman,

a renc

520 Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

Experiment solitary touching the health fulness or un-
healthf ulness of the southern mind.

786. IT hath been noted by the antients, that south-
ern winds, blowing much, without rain, do cause a
feverous disposition of the year ; but with rain, not.
The cause is^for that southern winds do of themselves
qualify the air, to be apt to cause fevers ; but when
showers are joined, they do refrigerate in part, and
check the sultry heat of the southern wind. Therefore
this hbldeth not in the sea-coasts, because the vapour
of the sea, without showers, doth refresh.

Experiment solitary touching wounds.

787. IT hath been noted by the antients, that
Wounds which are made with brass heal more easily
than wounds made with iron. The cause is, for that
brass hath in itself a sanative virtue ; and so in the
very instant helpeth somewhat : but iron is corrosive,
and not sanative. And therefore it were good, that
the instruments which are used by chirurgeons about
wounds, were rather of brass than iron.

Experiment solitary touching mortification by cold.

788. IN the cold countries, when mens noses and
ears are mortified, and, as it were, gangrened with
cold, if they come toa fire they rot off presently. The
cause is, for that the few spirits that remain in those
parts, are suddenly drawn forth, and so putrefaction
is made complete. But snow put upon them helpeth :
for that itpreserveth those spirits that remain, till they
can revive ; and besides, snow hath in it a secret
warmth : as the monk proved out of the text ; qui dat
nivem sicut lanam, gelu sicut cineres spar git. Whereby
he did infer, that snow did warm like wool, and frost
did fret like ashes. Warm water also doth good ; be-
cause by little arid little it openeth the pores, without
any sudden working upon the spirits. This experi-
ment may be transferred to the cure of gangrenes,
either coming of themselves, or induced by too much
applying of opiates ; wherein you must beware of dry

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 521

heat, and resort to things that are refrigerant, with
an inward warmth, and virtue of cherishing.

Experiment solitary touching weight.

789. WEIGH iron and aqua ford's severally ; then
dissolve the iron in the aquafortis, and weigh the dis-
solution ; and you shall find it to bear as good weight
as the bodies did severally : notwithstanding a good
deal of waste by a thick vapour that issueth during the
working ; which sheweth that the opening of a body
doth increase the weight. This was tried once or
twice, but I know not whether there were any error
in the trial.

Experiment solitary touching the super-natation of

bodies.

790. TAKE of aquafortis two ounces, of quicksilver
two drams, for that charge the aquafortis will bear, the
dissolution will not bear a flint as big as a nutmeg: yet,
no doubt, the encreasingof the weight of water will
encrease its power of bearing; as we see brine, when
it is salt enough, will bear an egg. And I remember
well a physician, that used to give some mineral baths
for the gout, etc. and the body, when it was put into
the bath, could not get down so easily as in ordinary
water. But it seemeth the weight of the quicksilver
more than the weight of a stone, doth not compense
the weight of a stone more than the weight of the
aquafortis.

Experiment solitary touching thejlying of unequal bodies
in the air.

791. LET there be a body of unequal weight, as of
wood and lead, or bone and lead, if you throw it from
you with the light end forward, it will turn, and the
weightier end will recover to be forwards; unless the
body be over-long. The cause is, for that the more
dense body hath a more violent pressure of the parts
from the first impulsion ; which is the cause, though
heretofore not found out, as hath been often said, of
all violent motions : and when the hinder part moveth

522 Natural History. [Cent. VIII.

swifter, for that it less endureth pressure of parts, than
the forward part can make way for it, it must needs
be that the body turn over : for, turned, it can more
easily draw forward the lighter part. Galilceus noteth
it well, that if an open trough wherein water is, be
driven faster than the water can follow, the water ga-
thereth upon an heap towards the hinder end, where
the motion began, which he supposeth, holding confi-
dently the motion of the earth, to be the cause of the
ebbing and flowing of the ocean ; because the earth
over-runneth the water. Which theory, though it be
false, yet the first experiment is true. As for the in-
equality of the pressure of parts, it appeareth mani-
festly in this; that if you take a body of stone, or iron,
and another of wood, of the same magnitude and
shape, and throw them with equal force, you cannot
possibly throw the wood so far as the stone or iron.

Experiment solitary touching water, that it may be tlie
medium of sounds.

792. IT is certain, as it hath been formerly in part
touched, that water may be the medium of sounds.
If you dash a stone against a stone in the bottom of
the water, it maketh a sound. So a long pole struck
upon gravel in the bottom of the water maketh a
sound. Nay, if you should think that the sound com-
eth up by the pole, and not by the water, you shall
find that an anchor let down by a rope maketh a
sound ; and yet the rope is no solid body whereby the
sound can ascend.

Experiment solitary of the flight of the spwits upon
odious objects.

793. ALL objects of the senses which are very of-
fensive, do cause the spirits to retire : and upon their
flight, the parts are, in some degree, destitute ; and so
there is induced in them a trepidation and horror.
For sounds, we see that the grating of a saw, or any
very harsh noise, will set the teeth on edge, and make
all the body shiver. For tastes, we see that in the
taking of a potion or pills, the head and the neck

Cent. VIII.] Natural History. 523

shake. For odious smells, the like effect followeth,
which is less perceived, because there is a remedy at
hand by stopping of the nose ; but in horses, that can
use no such help, we see the smell of a carrion, espe-
cially oi a dead horse, maketh them fly away, and
take on almost as if they were mad. For feeling, if you
come out of the sun suddenly into a shade, there fol-
loweth a chilness or shivering in all the body. And
even in sight, which hath in effect no odious object,
coming into sudden darkness, induceth an offer to
shiver.

Experiment solitary touching the super-reflexion of

echos.

794. THERE is in the city of Ticinum in Italy, a
church that hath windows only from above : it is in
length an hundred feet, in breadth twenty feet, and
in heighth near fifty ; having a door in the midst. It
reporteth the voice twelve or thirteen times, if you
stand by the close end-wall over against the door.
The echo fadeth, and dieth by little and little, as the
echo at Pont-Charenton doth. And the voice sound-
eth as if it came from above the door. And if you
stand at the lower end, or on either side of the door,
the echo holdeth; but if you stand in the door, or in
the midst just over against the door, not. Note, that
all echos sound better against old walls than new ; be-
cause they are more dry and hollow.

Experiment solitary touching the force of imagination,
imitating that of the sense.

795. THOSE effects which are wrought by the per*
cussion of the sense, and by things in fact, are pro-
duced likewise in some degree by the imagination.
Therefore if a man see another eat sour or acid things,
which set the teeth on edge, this object tainteth the
imagination. So that he that seeth the thing done by
another, hath his own teeth also set on edge. So
if a man see another turn swiftly and long, or if he
look upon wheels that turn, himself waxeth turn-sick.

Natural History. [Cent.Vlir.

So if a man be upon an high place without rails or
good hold, except he be used to it, he is ready to fall :
tor imagining a fall, it putteth his spirits into the very
action of a fall. So many upon the seeing of others
bleed, or strangled, or tortured, themselves are ready
to faint, as if they bled or were in strife.

Experiment solitary touching preservation of bodies t

796. TAKE a stock-gilly-flower, and tie it gently
upon a stick, and put them both into a stoop-glass full
of quicksilver, so that the flower be covered : then
lay a little weight upon the top of the glass, that may
keep the stick down; and look upon them after four
or five days ; and you shall find the flower fresh, and
the stalk harder and less flexible than it was. If you
compare it with another flower gathered at the same
time, it will be the more manifest. This sheweth,
that bodies do preserve excellently in quicksilver;
and not preserve only, but by the coldness of the
quicksilver indurate; for the freshness of the flower
may be merely conservation; which is the more to be
observed, because the quicksilver presseth the flower;
but the stiffness of the stalk cannot be without indura-
tion, from the cold, as it seemeth, of the quick-
silver.

Experiment solitary touching the growth or multiplying
of metals.

797. IT is reported by some of the antients, that
in Cyprus there is a kind of iron, that being cut into
little pieces, and put into the ground, if it be well wa-
tered, will increase into greater pieces. This is certain,
and known of old, that lead will multiply and increase,
as hath been seen in old statues of stone which have
been put in cellars; the feet of them being bound with
leaden bands; where, after a time, there appeared,
that the lead did swell ; insomuch as it hanged upon
the stone like warts.

Cent. VIII.] Natural Illstoiy. 525

Experiment solitary touching the dnxoning of the more
base metal in the more precious.

798. I CALL drowning' of metals, when that the
baser metals is so incorporate with the more rich, as it-
can by no means be separated again; which is a kind
ot version, though false: as if silver should be insepa-
rably incorporated with gold ; or copper and lead
with silver. The antient electrum had in it a fifth of
silver to the gold, and made a compound metal, as fit
for most uses as gold, and more resplendent, and more
qualified in some other properties;, but then that was
easily separated. This to do privily, or to make the
compound pass for the rich metal simple, is an adul-
teration or counterfeiting : but if it be done avowedly,
and without disguising, it may be a great saving of the
richer metal. I remember to have heard of a man
skilful in metals, that a fifteenth part of silver incorpo-
rated with gold will not be recovered by any water of
separation, except you put a greater quantity of silver
to draw to it the less.; which, he said, is the last refuge
in separations. But that is a tedious way, which no
man, almost, will think on. This should be better
inquired; and the quantity of the fifteenth turned to a
twentieth ; and likewise with some little additional,
that may further the intrinsic incorporation. Note,
that silver in gold will be detected, by weight, com-
pared with the dimension ; but lead in silver, lead
being the weightier metal, will not be detected, if you
take so much the more silver as will countervail the
over-weisrht of the lead.

o

Experiment solitary touching fixation of bodies.

799. GOLD is the only substance which hath no-
thing in it volatile, and yet melteth without much dif-
ficulty- The melting sheweth that it is not jejune, or
scarce in spirit. So that the fixing of it is not want
of spirit to fly out, but the equal spreading of the tan-
gible parts, and the close coacervation of them :
whereby they have the less appetite, and no means at
all. to issue forth. It were good therefore. to try,

526 Natural History. [Cent. VIIL

whether glass remolten do lose any weight ? for the
parts in glass are evenly spread ; but they are not so
close as in gold; as we see by the easy admission of
light, heat, and cold ; and by the smallness of the
weight. There be other bodies fixed, which have
little or no spirit ; so as there is nothing to fly out ; as
we see in the stuff whereof coppels are made, which
they put into furnaces, upon which fire worketh not :
so that there are three causes of fixation ; the even
spreading both of the spirits and tangible parts, the
closeness of the tangible parts, and the jejuneness or
extreme comminution of spirits: of which three, the
two first may be joined with a nature liquefiable, the
last not.

Experiment solitary touching the restless nature of things
in themselves, and their desire to change.

800. IT is a profound contemplation in nature, to
consider of the emptiness, as we may call it, or insa-
tisfaction of several bodies, and of their appetite to
take in others. Air taketh in lights, and sounds, and
smells, and vapours ; and it is most manifest, that it
doth it with a kind of thirst, as not satisfied with its
own former consistence ; for else it would never re-
ceive them in so suddenly and easily. Water, and all
liquors do hastily receive dry and more terrestrial bo-
dies, proportionable : and dry bodies, on the other
side, drink in waters and liquors : so that, as it was
well said by one of the antients, of earthy and watery
substances, one is a glue to another. Parchment,
skins, cloth, etc. drink in liquors, though themselves
be entire bodies, and not comminuted, as sand
and ashes, nor apparently porous : metals them-
selves do receive in readily strong waters; and strong
waters likewise do readily pierce into metals and
stones: and that strong water will touch upon gold,
that will not touch upon silver, and Icon-verso. And
gold, which seemeth by the weight to be the closest
and most solid body, doth greedily drink in quick-
silver. And it seemeth, that this reception of other
bodies is not violent : for it is many times reciprocal,

Cent. VIII.] Natural History.

and as it were with consent. Of the cause of this, and
to what axiom it may be referred, consider attentive-
ly ; for as for the pretty assertion, that matter is like
a common strumpet, that desireth all forms, it is but a
wandering notion. Only flame doth not content it-
self to take in any other body, but either to overcome
and turn an other body into itself, as by victory ; or
itself to die, and go out.

527

THE END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

H.Bryer, Printer.
Bridewell Hospital, Bridge Street.