And again—

“Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos,” &c.

For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches and old women

and impostors, have had a competition with physicians. And what

followeth? Even this, that physicians say to themselves, as Solomon

expresseth it upon a higher occasion, “If it befall 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 antiquaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, merchants, divines, 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 of life, and nature of hope,

maketh men depend 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 subtlety of spirit hath over the

variety of matter or form. Nothing more variable than faces and

countenances, yet men can bear in memory the infinite distinctions of

them; nay, a painter, with a few shells of colours, and the 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

variable than voices, yet men can likewise discern them personally: nay,

you shall have a _buffon_ 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 insufficiency or incapacity of man’s mind, but it is the

remote 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 is it 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 quoniam variant morbi, variabimus artes;

Mille mali species, mille salutis erunt.”

Which that they should do, the nobleness of their art doth deserve: well

shadowed by the poets, in that they made Æsculapius 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 doctrine. For we read not that ever He vouchsafed

to do any miracle about honour or money (except that one for giving

tribute to Cæsar), but only about the preserving, sustaining, and healing

the body of man.

(3) Medicine is a science which hath been (as we have said) more

professed than laboured, and yet more laboured 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 causes of

diseases, with the occasions or impulsions; the diseases themselves, with

the accidents; 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.

(4) The first is the discontinuance of the ancient and serious diligence

of Hippocrates, which 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 allege an example foreign, of the wisdom of

the lawyers, who are careful to report new cases and decisions, 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 this manner, which are not new in the kind; and if

men will intend to observe, they shall find much worthy to observe.

(5) In the inquiry which is made by anatomy, I find much deficience: for

they inquire of the parts, and their substances, figures, and

collocations; but they inquire not of the diversities of the parts, the

secrecies of 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

continent 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 cannot be removed 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 subtle of them appear not in anatomies, because they

are shut and latent in dead bodies, though they be open and manifest in

life: which being supposed, though the inhumanity of _anatomia vivorum_

was by Celsus 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 observe, what

cavities, nests, and receptacles the humours do find in the parts, with

the differing kind of the humour so lodged and received. And as for the

footsteps of diseases, and their devastations of the inward parts,

impostumations, exulcerations, discontinuations, putrefactions,

consumptions, contractions, extensions, convulsions, dislocations,

obstructions, repletions, together with all preternatural substances, as

stones, carnosities, excrescences, worms, and the like; they ought to

have been exactly observed by multitude of anatomies, and the

contribution of men’s several experiences, and carefully set down 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.

(6) In the inquiry of diseases, they do abandon the cures of many, some

as in their nature incurable, and 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 prescriptions. Therefore I will

not doubt to note as a deficience, that they inquire not the perfect

cures of many diseases, or extremities of diseases; but pronouncing them

incurable do enact a law of neglect, and exempt ignorance from discredit.

(7) Nay further, I esteem it the office of a physician not only to

restore health, but to mitigate pain and dolors; and not only when such

mitigation may conduce to recovery, but when it may serve to make a fair

and easy passage. For it is no small felicity which Augustus Cæsar 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 sheep. So it is written of

Epicurus, that after his disease 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 both to inquire the skill, and to give the

attendances, for the facilitating and assuaging of the pains and agonies

of death.

(5) In the consideration of the cures of diseases, I find a deficience in

the receipts of propriety, respecting the particular cures of diseases:

for the physicians have frustrated the fruit of tradition and experience

by their magistralities, in adding and taking out and changing _quid pro

qua_ in 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 _diascordium_, 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 appropriate to particular

diseases. 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 religious in holding their medicines. Therefore here is the

deficience which I find, that physicians have not, partly out of their

own practice, partly out of the constant probations reported in books,

and partly out of the traditions of empirics, set down and delivered over

certain experimental medicines for the cure of particular diseases,

besides their own conjectural and magistral 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.

(9) In preparation of medicines I do find strange, specially considering

how mineral medicines have been extolled, and that they are safer for the

outward than inward parts, that no man hath sought to make an imitation

by art of natural baths and medicinable fountains: which nevertheless are

confessed to receive their virtues from minerals; and not so only, but

discerned and distinguished from what particular 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 be more commanded.

(10) But lest I grow to be more particular than is agreeable either to my

intention or to proportion, I 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 compendious to attain their end;

for, to my understanding, it is a vain and flattering opinion to think

any medicine can be so sovereign or so happy, as that the receipt or miss

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 precise obedience

in observing, yet is recompensed with the magnitude of effects. And

although a man would think, by the daily visitations of the physicians,

that there were a pursuance in the cure, yet let a 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 straight way is the way to heaven; but the truth of the

direction must precede severity of observance.

(11) For cosmetic, it hath parts civil, and parts effeminate: 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.

(12) 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 activity, or of patience; whereof activity hath two parts, strength

and swiftness; and patience likewise hath two parts, hardness against

wants and extremities, and endurance of pain or torment; whereof we see

the practices in tumblers, 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 continual custom, which is soon prescribed which

though it be not true, yet I forbear to note any deficiences; 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 but

for mercenary ostentation.

(13) For arts of pleasure sensual, the chief deficience in them is of

laws 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

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.

XI. (1) 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 that 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 adventive, 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 travail 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 inquired, even in nature, than it hath

been, yet I hold that in the end it must be hounded by religion, or else

it will be subject to deceit and delusion. For as the substance of the

soul in the creation was not extracted out of the mass of heaven and

earth by the benediction of a _producat_, but was immediately inspired

from God, so it is not possible that it should be (otherwise than by

accident) subject to the laws of heaven and earth, which are the subject

of philosophy; and therefore the true knowledge of the nature and state

of the soul must come by the same inspiration that gave the substance.

Unto this part of knowledge touching the soul there be two appendices;

which, as they have been handled, have rather vapoured forth fables than

kindled truth: divination and fascination.

(2) Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided into 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 experimental: whereof the latter

for the most part is superstitious, such as were the heathen observations

upon the inspection of sacrifices, the flights of birds, the swarming of

bees; and such as was the Chaldean astrology, and the like. For

artificial divination, the several kinds thereof are distributed amongst

particular knowledges. The astronomer hath his predictions, 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 politique hath his predictions; _O urbem venalem_, _et

cito perituram_, _si emptorem invenerit_! which stayed not long to be

performed, in Sylla first, and after in Cæsar: 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.

Primitive is grounded upon the supposition that the mind, when it is

withdrawn and collected into itself, and not diffused into the organs of

the body, hath some extent and latitude of prenotion; which therefore

appeareth most in sleep, in ecstasies, 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 regiment doth likewise conduce. For the

retiring of the mind within itself is the state which is most susceptible

of divine influxions; save that it is accompanied in this case with a

fervency and elevation (which the ancients noted by fury), and not with a

repose and quiet, as it is in the other.

(3) 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 they have exalted the power

of the imagination to be much one with the power of miracle-working

faith. Others, that draw nearer to probability, calling to their view

the secret passages of things, and specially of the contagion that

passeth 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 crookedly 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, and 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 vultus

comedes panem tuum_. 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 general deficience, that it

is not known how much of them is verity, and how much vanity.

XII. (1) 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 produceth

position or decree, the latter action or execution. It is true that the

imagination is an agent or _nuncius_ 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,

“Quales decet esse sororum.”

Neither is the imagination simply and only a messenger; but is invested

with, or at least wise 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, which the lord hath over a bondman;

but that reason 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 persuasions that are wrought by eloquence, and other

impressions of like nature, which do paint and disguise the true

appearance of things, the chief recommendation 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 or duty thereof. And if it be a work, we speak

not now of such parts of learning as the imagination produceth, but of

such sciences as handle and consider 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 his 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 philosophy, which respecteth the faculties of the

mind of man, hath two parts, rational and moral.

(2) The part of human philosophy which is rational is of all knowledges,

to the most wits, the least delightful, and seemeth but a net of subtlety

and spinosity. For as it was truly said, that knowledge is _pabulum

animi_; so in the nature of men’s appetite to this food most men are of

the taste and stomach of the Israelites in the desert, that would fain

have returned _ad ollas carnium_, and were weary of manna; which, though

it were celestial, yet seemed less nutritive and comfortable. So

generally men taste well knowledges that are drenched in flesh and blood,

civil history, morality, policy, about the which men’s affections,

praises, fortunes do turn and are conversant. But this same _lumen

siccum_ doth parch and offend most men’s 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 Aristotle 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.

(3) The arts intellectual are four in number, divided 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

judgment; art of custody or memory; and art of elocution or tradition.

XIII. (1) Invention is of two kinds much differing—the one of arts and

sciences, and the other of speech and arguments. 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 commodities, 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 regions, and the other a small motion; so it cannot be found

strange if sciences be no further discovered, if the art itself of

invention and discovery hath been passed over.

(2) 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 arte

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 “Theætetus” 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 inventions and

originals of things refer them rather to chance than to art, and rather

to beasts, birds, fishes, serpents, than to men.

“Dictamnum genetrix Cretæa carpit ab Ida,

Puberibus caulem foliis et flore camantem

Purpureo; non illa feris incognita capris

Gramina, cum tergo volucres hæsere sagittæ.”

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, et latrator Anubis,

Contra Neptunum, et Venerem, contraque Minervam, &c.”

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 stroke the flints, and marvelled at the spark, than that when he

first stroke the flints he expected the spark; and therefore we see the

West Indian Prometheus had no intelligence 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 pot-lid that flew open for artillery, or generally to

chance or anything else than to logic for the invention of arts and

sciences. Neither is the form of invention which Virgil describeth much

other:

“Ut varias usus meditande extunderet artes

Paulatim.”

For if you observe the words well, it is no other method than that which

brute beasts are capable of, and do put in ure; 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 naturam et artem sæpe vincit_. And therefore if

it be said of men,

“Labor omnia vincit

Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas,”

it is likewise said of beasts, _Quis psittaco docuit suum χαιρε_? Who

taught the raven in a drought to throw pebbles into a hollow tree, where

she spied water, that the water might rise so as she might come to it?

Who taught the bee to sail through such a vast sea or air, and to find

the way from a field in a 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 _extundere_, 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 faculty of reason,

and nothing to the duty or art, for matter of invention.

(3) 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 attentively

observe how the mind doth gather this excellent dew of knowledge, like

unto that which the poet speaketh of, _Aërei mellis cælestia dona_,

distilling and contriving it out of particulars natural and artificial,

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

subtle as have managed these things to have offered it to the world, but

that they hasted to their theories and dogmaticals, and were imperious

and scornful toward particulars; which their manner was to use but as

_lictores_ and _viatores_, for sergeants and whifflers, _ad summovendam

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.

(4) 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 likewise, by

way of argument or satisfactory reason, _Quæ assensum parit operis effæta

est_; but the subtlety of nature and operations will not be enchained in

those bonds. For arguments consist of propositions, and propositions 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 particulars, it is not the laborious examination either of

consequences of arguments, or of the truth of propositions, 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 extended only to appearances and probabilities. It is

true that in Socrates it was supposed to be but a form of irony,

_Scientiam dissimulando simulavit_; for he 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 acknowledge so much. And in

the later academy, which Cicero embraced, this opinion also of

_acatalepsia_ (I doubt) was not held sincerely; for that all those which

excelled in copy of speech seem to have chosen that sect, as that which

was fittest to give glory to their eloquence and variable discourses;

being rather like progresses of pleasure than journeys to an end. But

assuredly many scattered in both academies did hold it in subtlety 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 report truth, though not always

immediately, yet by comparison, by help of instrument, and by producing

and urging such things as are too subtle 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 concluding 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.

(5) This part of invention, concerning the invention of sciences, I

purpose (if God give me leave) hereafter to propound, having digested it

into two parts: whereof the one I term _experientia literata_, and the

other _interpretatio naturæ_; the former being but a degree and rudiment

of the latter. But I will not dwell too long, nor speak too great upon a

promise.

(6) The invention of speech or argument is not properly an invention; for

to invent is to discover that we know not, and not to recover or resummon

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 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 chase as well of

deer in an enclosed 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 invention is

readiness and present use of our knowledge, and not addition or

amplification thereof.

(7) To procure this ready use of knowledge there are two courses,

preparation and suggestion. The former of these seemeth scarcely a part

of knowledge, consisting rather of diligence than of any artificial

erudition. And herein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully, doth deride the

sophists near his time, saying, “They did as if one that professed the

art of shoemaking should not teach how to make up a shoe, but only

exhibit in a readiness a number of shoes 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 householder, that bringeth forth both 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 experience, delivereth

it plainly, that whatsoever a man shall have occasion to speak of (if he

will take the pains), he 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 put to names, and times, and places, and such other

circumstances of individuals. We see likewise the exact diligence of

Demosthenes; 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.

(8) But the nature of the collection of this provision or preparatory

store, though it be common both to logic and rhetoric, yet having made an

entry of it here, where it came first to be spoken of, I think fit to

refer over the further handling of it to rhetoric.

(9) The other part of invention, which I term suggestion, doth assign and

direct us to certain marks, or places, which may excite our mind to

return and produce 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 apprompt our invention, but also to direct

our inquiry. For a faculty 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 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 points to search and revolve; so as I

cannot report that this part of invention, which is that which the

schools call topics, is deficient.

(10) Nevertheless, topics are of two sorts, general and special. The

general we have spoken to; but the particular hath been touched by some,

but rejected generally as inartificial and variable. But leaving the

humour which hath reigned too much in the schools (which is, to be vainly

subtle 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 knowledge, as things of great

use, being mixtures of logic with the matter of sciences. For in these

it holdeth _ars inveniendi adolescit cum inventis_; 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.

XIV. (1) Now we pass unto the arts of judgment, which handle the natures

of proofs and demonstrations, which as to induction hath a coincidence

with invention; for 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

immediate, but by mean, the invention of the mean is one thing, and the

judgment of the consequence is another; the one exciting only, the other

examining. Therefore, for the real and exact form of judgment, we refer

ourselves to that which we have spoken of interpretation of Nature.

(2) For the other judgment by syllogism, as it is a thing most agreeable

to the mind of man, so it hath been vehemently end excellently laboured.

For the nature of man doth extremely covet to have somewhat in his

understanding fixed and unmovable, 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 bare 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

perpetual peril of falling. Therefore men did hasten to set down some

principles about which the variety of their disputatious might turn.

(3) 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 liberty 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 contradictory of the

proposition is reduced to the contradictory 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 principle.

(4) But this art hath 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 may be 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 propositions,

which are simple words. And this is that part of logic which is

comprehended in the Analytics.

(5) The second method of doctrine was introduced for expedite use and

assurance sake, discovering the more subtle forms of sophisms and

illaqueations with their redargutions, which is that which is termed

_elenches_. 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 subtle sort of them doth not only put a

man besides his answer, but doth many times abuse his judgment.

(6) This part concerning _elenches_ is excellently handled by Aristotle

in precept, but more excellently by Plato in example; not only in the

persons of the 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, fallace, 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 advantage in the race, and the other as the hare, which

hath her advantage in the turn, so as it is the advantage of the weaker

creature.

(7) But yet further, 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 other 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, touching

the common adjuncts of essences, is but an _elenche_; for the great

sophism of all sophisms being equivocation or ambiguity of words and

phrase, specially of such words as are most general and intervene in

every inquiry, it seemeth to me that the true and fruitful use (leaving

vain subtleties and speculations) of the inquiry of majority, minority,

priority, posteriority, identity, diversity, possibility, act, totality,

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 divisions.

(8) Secondly, there is a seducement that worketh by the strength of the

impression, and not by the subtlety of the illaqueation—not so much

perplexing the reason, as overruling it by power of the imagination. But

this part I think more proper to handle when I shall speak of rhetoric.

(9) But lastly, there is yet a much more important and profound kind of

fallacies in the mind of man, which I 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 inwardly infect and corrupt the state thereof. For

the mind of man is far from the nature of a clear and equal glass,

wherein the beams of things should reflect according to their true

incidence; nay, it is rather like an enchanted glass, full of

superstition and imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced. For this

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 superstition, namely,

that to the nature of the mind of all men it is consonant for the

affirmative or active to affect more than the negative or privative. So

that a few times hitting or presence countervails ofttimes failing or

absence, as was well answered by Diagoras to him that showed him in

Neptune’s temple the great number of pictures of such as had escaped

shipwreck, and had paid their vows to Neptune, 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 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 eccentrics. Hence it cometh that whereas

there are many things in Nature as it were _monodica_, _sui juris_, yet

the cogitations of man do feign unto them relatives, parallels, and

conjugates, whereas no such thing is; as they have feigned an element of

fire to 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 fantasies

the similitude of human actions and arts, together with the making of man

_communis mensura_, 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, answerable 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 _ædilis_, one that

should have set forth some magnificent shows or plays. For if that great

Work-master had been of a 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

a harmony there is between the spirit of man and the spirit of Nature.

(10) Let us consider again the false appearances imposed upon us by every

man’s own individual nature and custom in that feigned supposition that

Plato maketh of the cave; 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 peccant humours, which we ran briefly over in our first

book.

(11) 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 _loquendum ut vulgus 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 entangle 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 that it is not possible to divorce ourselves from these

fallacies and false appearances because they are inseparable from our

nature and condition of life; so yet, nevertheless, the caution of them

(for all elenches, as was said, are but cautions) doth extremely import

the true conduct of human judgment. The particular elenches or cautions

against these three false appearances I find altogether deficient.

(12) 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 kinds of

demonstrations, that is, by the immediate consent of the mind or sense,

by induction, by syllogism, and by congruity, which is that which

Aristotle 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 rigour 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 assignations of demonstrations according to the analogy

of sciences I note as deficient.

XV. (1) 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 copy of invention, and contracteth judgment to a

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.

(2) For the other principal part of the custody of knowledge, which is

memory, I find 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 prodigious; but in use (as 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 repeating a

great number of names or words upon once hearing, or the pouring forth of

a number of verses or rhymes _extempore_, or the making of a satirical

simile of everything, or the turning of everything to a jest, or the

falsifying or contradicting of everything by cavil, or the like (whereof

in the faculties of the mind there is great copy, and such as by device

and practice may be exalted to an extreme degree of wonder), than I do of

the tricks of tumblers, funambuloes, baladines; the one being the same in

the mind that the other is in the body, matters of strangeness without

worthiness.

(3) This art of memory is but built upon two intentions; the one

prenotion, the other emblem. Prenotion 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 memory more; out of which axioms may be drawn much better practice

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 deficient, which are but only ill

managed.

XVI. (1) There remaineth the fourth kind of rational knowledge, 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 method of tradition; and the third concerning

the illustration of tradition.

(2) 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 words.” But yet it is not of necessity that

cogitations 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

men’s minds are expressed in gestures, though not exactly, yet to serve

the turn. And we understand further, that it is the use of China and the

kingdoms of the High Levant to write in characters real, which express

neither letters nor words in gross, but things or notions; insomuch 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 extend; and, therefore,

they have a vast multitude of characters, as many, I suppose, as radical

words.

(3) 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 evermore, 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 placitum_, 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 touching the notes of things and

cogitations in general, I find not inquired, but deficient. And although

it may seem of 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 accepted for conceits, as moneys are for values, and that it

is fit men be not ignorant that moneys may be of another kind than gold

and silver), I thought good to propound it to better inquiry.

(4) Concerning speech and words, the consideration of them hath produced

the science of grammar. For man still striveth to reintegrate himself in

those benedictions, from which by his fault he hath been deprived; 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 authors; 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 entirely; and,

therefore, I cannot report it deficient, though I think it very worthy to

be reduced into a science by itself.

(5) 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 of verses as of

dances; for a dance is a measured pace, as a verse is a measured speech.

In these things this sense is better judge than the art:

“Cœnæ fercula nostræ

Mallem convivis quam placuisse cocis.”

And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike and an unfit

subject, it is well said, “_Quod tempore antiquum videtur_, _id

incongruitate est maxime novum_.”

(6) For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or alphabets, but may be in

words. The kinds of ciphers (besides the simple ciphers, with changes,

and intermixtures of nulls and non-significants) are many, according to

the nature or rule of the infolding, wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, doubles,

&c. 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 write _omnia per omnia_;

which is undoubtedly possible, with a proportion quintuple at most of the

writing infolding to the writing infolded, 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 exclude 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.

(7) In the enumeration of these private and retired arts it may be

thought I seek to make a great muster-roll of sciences, naming them for

show and ostentation, 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.

XVII. (1) 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 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 inquiry. For this part of knowledge of method

seemeth to me so weakly inquired as I shall report it deficient.

(2) 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 knowledge: for since the

labour and life of one man cannot attain to perfection of knowledge, the

wisdom of the tradition is that which inspireth 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 magistral, and the other of probation.

(3) The latter whereof seemeth to be _via deserta et interclusa_. 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

desireth to deliver it in such form as may be best believed, 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 author not to lay open his weakness,

and sloth making the disciple not to know his strength.

(4) 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 induced. But in this

same anticipated and prevented knowledge, no man knoweth how he came to

the knowledge which he hath obtained. But yet, nevertheless, _secundum

majus et minus_, 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

if you will have sciences grow, it is less matter for the shaft or body

of the tree, so you look well to the taking up of the roots. Of which

kind of delivery the 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.

(5) 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 being admitted to the secrets of knowledges, and to

reserve them to selected auditors, or wits of such sharpness as can

pierce the veil.

(6) Another diversity of method, whereof the consequence 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, filling

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.

(7) For first, it trieth the writer, whether he be superficial 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;

recitals of examples are cut off; discourse of connection 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,

“Tantum series juncturaque pollet,

Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,”

as a man shall make a great show 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 dispersed do best agree with

dispersed directions. And lastly, aphorisms, representing a knowledge

broken, do invite men to inquire further; whereas methods, carrying the

show of a total, do secure men, as if they were at furthest.

(8) Another diversity of method, which is likewise of great weight, is

the handling of knowledge by assertions and their proofs, or by questions

and their determinations. The latter kind whereof, if it be immoderately

followed, is as prejudicial to the proceeding 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 enterprise pursued, those

smaller things will come in of themselves: indeed a man would not leave

some important piece 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 disputatious and doubts.

(9) Another diversity of method is, according to the subject or matter

which is handled. For there is a great difference in 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 a uniformity 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 I do allow likewise of particular

methods of tradition.

(10) 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 opinions

received, is to be delivered in another form than that that is agreeable

and familiar; and therefore Aristotle, when he thinks to tax Democritus,

doth in truth commend him, where he saith “If we shall indeed dispute,

and not follow after similitudes,” &c. For those whose conceits are

seated in popular opinions need only but to prove or dispute; but those

whose conceits are beyond popular opinions, have a double labour; the one

to make themselves conceived, and the other to prove and demonstrate. So

that it is of necessity with them to have recourse to similitudes and

translations to express themselves. 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 whatsoever science is not consonant to presuppositions

must pray in aid of similitudes.

(11) There be also other diversities of methods vulgar and received: as

that of resolution or analysis, of constitution or systasis, of

concealment or cryptic, &c., which I do allow well of, though I have

stood upon those which are least handled and observed. All which I have

remembered to this purpose, because I would erect and constitute one

general inquiry (which seems to me deficient) touching the wisdom of

tradition.

(12) But unto this part of knowledge, concerning method, doth further

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 considereth 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—Καθολον πρωτον, κυτα παντος &c.—than he did in

introducing the canker of epitomes; and yet (as it is the condition of

human things that, according to the ancient fables, “the most precious

things have the most pernicious 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

circular, and non-promovent, or incurring into themselves; but yet the

intention was excellent.

(13) The other considerations of method, concerning propositions, 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 Καθαυτο; the other giveth rule unto what degree of

particularity a knowledge should descend: which latter I find passed over

in silence, being in my judgment the more material. For certainty there

must be somewhat left to practice; but how much is worthy the inquiry?

We see remote and superficial generalities do but offer knowledge to

scorn of practical men; and are no more aiding to practice than an

Ortelius’ universal map is to direct the way between London and York.

The better sort of rules have been not unfitly compared to glasses of

steel unpolished, where you may see the images of things, but first they

must be filed: so the rules will help if they be laboured and polished by

practice. But how crystalline 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.

(14) There hath been also laboured and put in practice a method, which is

not a lawful method, but a method of imposture: which is, to deliver

knowledges in such manner as men may speedily come to make a show of

learning, who have it not. Such was the travail 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 countenance, 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 everything, but nothing of

worth.

XVIII. (1) 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 thou shalt be to him as God”), yet with people it is the

more mighty; for so Solomon saith, _Sapiens corde appellabitur prudens_,

_sed dulcis eloquio majora 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 labouring of it, the

emulation of Aristotle with the rhetoricians of his time, and the

experience of Cicero, hath made them in their works of rhetoric exceed

themselves. Again, the excellency of examples 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 handmaids attend the art, than in the rules or

use of the art itself.

(2) 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 imagination 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 affection,

which pertains to morality. And as in negotiation with others, men are

wrought by cunning, by importunity, and by vehemency; so in this

negotiation within ourselves, men are undermined by inconsequences,

solicited and importuned by impressions 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 entrap it; the end of morality is

to procure the affections to obey reason, and not to invade it; 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 oblique_, for

caution.

(3) And therefore it was great injustice in Plato, though springing out

of a just hatred to the rhetoricians of his time, to esteem of rhetoric

but as a voluptuary art, resembling it to cookery, that did mar wholesome

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 good 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 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 showed to the sense by corporal shape, the next

degree is to show her to the imagination in lively representation; for to

show her to reason only in subtlety 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 conclusions, which have no sympathy with

the will of man.

(4) Again, if the affections in themselves were pliant and obedient to

reason, it were true there should 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 seditious of the affections—

“Video meliora, proboque,

Deteriora sequor,”

reason would become captive and servile, if eloquence 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 the revolt of the

imagination reason prevaileth.

(5) 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 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, and

rhetoric handleth it as it is planted in popular opinions and manners.

And therefore Aristotle 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 demonstrations 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 delphinas 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 the greatest orators to want:

whilst, by the observing their well-graced forms of speech, they leese

the volubility of application; and therefore it shall not be amiss to

recommend this to better inquiry, not being curious whether we place it

here or in that part which concerneth policy.

(6) Now therefore will I descend to the deficiences, which, as I said,

are but attendances; and first, I do 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 vituperatur, malum.

Redargutio.

Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces.”

_Malum est_, _malum est_ (_inquit emptor_): _sed cum recesserit_, _tum

gloriabitur_! The defects in the labour of Aristotle are three—one, that

there be but a few of many; another, that there elenches 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 impression. For many

forms are equal in signification which are differing in impression, as

the difference is great in the piercing of that which is sharp and that

which is flat, though the strength of the percussion be the same. For

there is no man but will be a little more raised by hearing it said,

“Your enemies will be glad of this”—

“Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridæ.”

than by hearing it said only, “This is evil for you.”

(7) 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 resemblance

to a shop of pieces unmade up, the other to a shop of things ready made

up; both to be applied to that which is frequent and most in request.

The former of these I will call _antitheta_, and the latter _formulæ_.

(8) _Antitheta_ are theses argued _pro et contra_, wherein men may be

more large and laborious; but (in such 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

skeins or bottoms of thread, to be unwinded at large when they come to be

used; supplying authorities and examples by reference.

“_Pro verbis legis_.

Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, quæ recedit a litera:

Cum receditur a litera, judex transit in legislatorem.

_Pro sententia legis_.

Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensus qui interpretatur singula.”

(9) _Formulæ_ are but decent and apt passages or conveyances of speech,

which may serve indifferently for differing subjects; as of preface,

conclusion, digression, transition, excusation, &c. For as in buildings

there is great pleasure and use in the well casting of the staircases,

entries, doors, windows, and the like; so in speech, the conveyances and

passages are of special ornament and effect.

“_A conclusion in a deliberative_.

So may we redeem the faults passed, and prevent the inconveniences

future.”

XIX. (1) 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 concerneth

chiefly writing of books, so the relative part thereof concerneth reading

of books; whereunto appertain 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 understand not is false set

down: as the priest that, where he found it written of St. Paul _Demissus

est per sportam_, mended his book, and made it _Demissus est per portam_;

because _sporta_ was a hard word, and out of his reading: and surely

their errors, though they be not so palpable and ridiculous, yet are of

the same kind. And therefore, as it hath been wisely noted, the most

corrected copies are commonly the least correct.

The second is concerning the exposition and explication of authors, which

resteth in annotations and commentaries: wherein 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 disposition of studies; that

men may know in what order or pursuit to read.

(2) For pedantical knowledge, it containeth that difference of tradition

which is proper for youth; whereunto 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.

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 method

to practise swimming with bladders, and another 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 example,

if a child be bird-witted, that is, hath not the faculty of attention,

the mathematics giveth a remedy thereunto; for in them, if the wit be

caught away but a moment, one is new to begin. 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 apt and proper for what sciences.

Fourthly, the ordering of exercises is matter of great consequence to

hurt or help: for, as is well observed 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 as there is a great judgment to be had in

the continuance and intermission of exercises. It were too long to

particularise a number of other considerations of this nature, things but

of mean appearance, but of singular efficacy. 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 immense 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 countervail it afterwards. And it is not amiss to observe also how

small and mean faculties gotten by education, yet when they fall into

great men or great matters, do work great and important effects: whereof

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. For there arising a mutiny amongst

them upon the death of Augustus Cæsar, Blæsus the lieutenant had

committed some of the mutineers, which were suddenly rescued; whereupon

Vibulenus got to be heard speak, which he did in this manner:—“These poor

innocent wretches appointed to cruel death, you have restored to behold

the light; but who shall restore my brother to me, or life unto my

brother, that was sent hither in message from the legions of Germany, to

treat of the common cause? and he hath murdered him this last night by

some of his fencers and ruffians, that he hath about him for his

executioners upon soldiers. Answer, Blæsus, 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, command me to be slain

besides him; so that these my fellows, for our good meaning and our true

hearts 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.

(3) But to return: we are now come to a period of rational knowledges;

wherein if I have made the divisions 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 estate should sort his papers, it

is like in his study or general cabinet he would sort together things of

a nature, as treaties, instructions, &c. But in his boxes or particular

cabinet he would sort together those 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 respected the divisions fittest for use. The other, because the

bringing in of the deficiences did by consequence 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 otherwise be.

XX. (1) We proceed now to that knowledge which considereth of the

appetite and will of man: whereof Solomon saith, _Ante omnia_, _fili_,

_custodi cor tuum_: _nam inde procedunt actiones vitæ_. In the handling

of this science, those which have written seem to me to have done as if a

man, that professed to teach to write, did only exhibit fair copies of

alphabets and letters joined, without giving any precepts or directions

for the carriage of the hand and framing of the letters. So have they

made good and fair exemplars 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 unprofitably. For it is not the

disputing that moral virtues 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.

(2) The reason of this omission I suppose to be that 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 subtleties),

but contrariwise they have compounded sciences chiefly of a certain

resplendent or lustrous mass of matter, chosen to give glory either to

the subtlety of disputatious, or to the eloquence of discourses. But

Seneca giveth an excellent check to eloquence, _Nocet illis eloquentia_,

_quibus non rerum cupiditatem facit_, _sed sui_. Doctrine should be such

as should make men in love with the lesson, and not with the teacher;

being directed to the auditor’s benefit, and not to the author’s

commendation. And therefore those are of the right kind which may be

concluded as Demosthenes concludes his counsel, _Quæ si feceritis_, _non

oratorem dumtaxat in præsentia laudabitis_, _sed vosmetipsos etiam non

ita multo post statu rerum vestraram meliore_.

(3) 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 eloquence, wit, and learning in the expressing of

the observations of husbandry, as of the heroical acts of Æneas:

“Nec sum animi dubius, verbis ea vincere magnum

Quam sit, et angustis his addere rebus honorem.”

And surely, if the purpose be in good earnest, not to write at leisure

that which men may read at leisure, but really to instruct and suborn

action and active 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.

(4) The doctrine touching the platform or nature of good considereth it

either simple or compared; either the kinds of good, or the degrees of

good; in the latter whereof those infinite disputatious which were

touching the supreme degree thereof, which they term felicity, beatitude,

or the highest good, the doctrines concerning which were as the heathen

divinity, are by the Christian faith discharged. And as Aristotle saith,

“That young men may be happy, but not otherwise but by hope;” so we must

all acknowledge our minority, and embrace the felicity which is by hope

of the future world.

(5) Freed therefore and delivered from this doctrine of the philosopher’s

heaven, whereby they feigned a higher elevation of man’s nature than was

(for we see in what height of style Seneca writeth, _Vere magnum_,

_habere fragilitatem hominis_, _securitatem Dei_), we may with more

sobriety and truth receive the rest of their inquiries and labours.

Wherein for the nature of good 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 further, they

have commended them to man’s nature and spirit with great quickness of

argument and beauty of persuasions; yea, and fortified and entrenched

them (as much as discourse can do) against corrupt and popular opinions.

Again, for the degrees and comparative nature of good, they have also

excellently handled it in their triplicity of good, in the comparisons

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; so as this part deserveth to be reported for excellently laboured.

(6) Notwithstanding, if before they had come to the popular and received

notions of virtue and vice, pleasure and pain, and the rest, they had

stayed a little longer upon the inquiry concerning the roots of good and

evil, and the strings of those roots, they had given, in my opinion, a

great light to that which followed; and specially 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.

(7) There is formed in everything a double nature of good—the one, as

everything 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 particular 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 precious than the conservation of life and

being; according to that memorable speech of Pompeius Magnus, when being

in commission of purveyance for a famine at Rome, and being dissuaded

with great vehemency and instance by his friends about him, that he

should not hazard himself to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only

to them, _Necesse est ut eam_, _non ut vivam_. But it may be truly

affirmed that there was never any philosophy, religion, or other

discipline, 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 declaring that it was the same God that gave the

Christian law to men, who gave those laws of nature to inanimate

creatures that we spake of before; for we read that the elected saints of

God have wished themselves anathematised and razed out of the book of

life, in an ecstasy of charity and infinite feeling of communion.

(8) 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

contemplative or active life, and decideth it against Aristotle. 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

question the contemplative life hath the pre-eminence), not much unlike

to that comparison which Pythagoras made for the gracing and magnifying

of philosophy and contemplation, who being asked what he was, answered,

“That if Hiero were ever at the Olympian games, he knew the manner, that

some came to try their fortune for the prizes, and some came as merchants

to utter their commodities, and some came to make good cheer and meet

their friends, and some came to look on; and that he was one of them that

came to look on.” But men must know, that in this theatre of man’s life

it is reserved only for God and angels to be lookers on. Neither could

the like question ever have been received in the Church, notwithstanding

their _Pretiosa in oculis Domini mors sanctorum ejus_, by which place

they would exalt their civil death and regular professions, but upon this

defence, that the monastical life is not simple 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 concerning 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 contemplative and walked with God, yet did

also endow the Church with prophecy, which Saint Jude citeth. But for

contemplation which should be finished in itself, without casting beams

upon society, assuredly divinity knoweth it not.

(9) 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 Cyrenaics 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

serenity of 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, which placed felicity in extinguishment of the

disputes of the mind, making 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 are manifest to tend to private repose and

contentment, and not to point of society.

(10) 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, showing them Naples, and protesting he had

rather die one foot forwards, than to have his life secured for long by

one foot of retreat. Whereunto the wisdom of that heavenly leader hath

signed, who hath affirmed that “a good conscience is a continual feast;”

showing plainly that the conscience of good intentions, howsoever

succeeding, is a more continual joy to nature than all the provision

which can be made for security and repose.

(11) 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 extinguish

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 a health

of mind, as was that health of body of which Aristotle 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 Diogenes’ opinion is to be

accepted, who commended not them which abstained, but them which

sustained, and could refrain their mind _in præcipitio_, and could give

unto the mind (as is used in horsemanship) the shortest stop or turn.

(12) 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 honour of a soldier should be, _e telâ

crassiore_, and not so fine as that everything should catch in it and

endanger it.

XXI. (1) To resume private or particular good, it falleth 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

household 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 themselves, and the other to dilate or multiply

themselves, whereof the latter seemeth to be the worthier; for in nature

the heavens, which are the 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, _beatius 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 pleasures, the state of them would advance their price.

But when we see it is but _magni æstimamus mori tardius_, and _ne

glorieris de crastino_, _nescis partum diei_, 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 pre-eminence

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_, _ludus per

hunc circulum curritur_; _mori velle non tantum fortis_, _aut miser_,

_aut prudens_, _sed etiam fastidiosus potest_. But in enterprises,

pursuits, and purposes of life, there is much variety; whereof men are

sensible with pleasure in their inceptions, progressions, recoils,

reintegrations, approaches and attainings to their ends. So as it was

well said, _Vita sine proposito languida et vaga est_. Neither hath this

active good an identity with the good of society, though in some cases it

hath an incidence 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 to the world,

according to their own humours (which is the true theomachy), pretendeth

and aspireth to active good, though it recedeth furthest from good of

society, which we have determined to be the greater.

(2) To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision of conservative

and effective. 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 proper and individual form; we have spoken of active

good, and supposed it as a part of private and particular 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 remaineth the

conserving of it, and perfecting or raising of it, which latter is the

highest degree of passive good. For to preserve in state is the less, to

preserve with advancement is the greater. So in man,

“Igneus est ollis vigor, et cælestis origo.”

His approach or assumption to divine or angelical nature 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 find 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 ambition, when failing of the mean to

exalt their nature, they are in a perpetual estuation to exalt their

place. So then passive good is, as was said, either conservative or

perfective.

(3) To resume the good of conservation or comfort, which consisteth in

the fruition of that which is agreeable to our natures; it seemeth to be

most pure and natural of pleasures, but yet the softest and 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.

(4) The former question being debated between Socrates and a sophist,

Socrates placing felicity in an equal and constant peace of mind, and the

sophist in much desiring and much enjoying, they fell from argument to

ill words: the sophist saying that Socrates’ 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 epicures

themselves, that virtue beareth a great part in felicity; and if so,

certain it is, that virtue hath more use in clearing perturbations then

in compassing desires. The sophist’s opinion is much favoured by the

assertion we last spake of, that good of advancement is greater than good

of simple preservation; because every obtaining a desire hath a show of

advancement, as motion though in a circle hath a show of progression.

(5) 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,

nevertheless, are less troubled with the loss or leaving of them? So as

this same, _Non uti ut non appetas_, _non appetere ut non metuas_, _sunt

animi pusilli et diffidentis_. And it seemeth to me that most of the

doctrines of the philosophers are more fearful and cautious than the

nature of things requireth. So have they increased the fear of death in

offering to cure it. For when they would have a man’s whole life to be

but a discipline or preparation to die, they must needs make men think

that it is a terrible enemy, against whom there is no end of preparing.

Better saith the poet:—

“Qui finem vitæ extremum inter munera ponat

Naturæ.”

So have they sought to make men’s minds too uniform and harmonical, by

not breaking them sufficiently to contrary motions; the reasons 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 show 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 philosophical and 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.

(6) 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 observed. For it concerneth the regiment and

government of every man over himself, and not over others. And as in

architecture the direction of framing the posts, beams, and other parts

of building, is not the same with the manner of joining them and erecting

the building; and in mechanicals, the direction how to frame an

instrument or engine is not the same with the manner of setting it on

work and employing it; and yet, nevertheless, in expressing of the one

you incidently express the aptness towards the other; so the doctrine of

conjugation of men in society differeth from that of their conformity

thereunto.

(7) 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 I may report rather dispersed 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

discovereth 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

Hannibal, 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.

(8) In which kind I cannot but mention, _honoris causa_, your Majesty’s

excellent book touching the duty of a king; a work richly compounded of

divinity, morality, and policy, with great aspersion of all other arts;

and being in some 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 negligence; not sick of dizziness, as those are who leese

themselves in their order, nor of convulsions, as those which cramp in

matters impertinent; not savouring 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 removed from that natural infirmity, whereunto I noted

those that write in their own professions to be subject—which is, that

they exalt it above measure. For your Majesty hath truly described, not

a king of Assyria or Persia in their extern glory, but a Moses or a

David, pastors of their people. Neither can I ever leese 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, “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 allege 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

decencies, which esteem it flattery to praise in presence. 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 excellent table of Cæsar’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.

(9) But to return; there belongeth further to the handling of this part,

touching the duties of professions and vocations, a relative or opposite,

touching the frauds, cautels, impostures, and vices of every profession,

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 humour, but no

matter for his instruction: _Quærenti derisori scientiam ipsa se

abscondit_; _sed studioso fit obviam_. 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 they leese their

life; but if they prevent, they endanger. 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 serpentine wisdom with the

columbine innocency, except men know exactly all the conditions of the

serpent; 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 without 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

presuppose that honesty groweth out of simplicity of manners, and

believing of preachers, schoolmasters, and men’s exterior language. So

as, except you can make them perceive that you know the utmost reaches of

their own corrupt opinions, they despise all morality. _Non recipit

stultus verba prudentiæ_, _nisi ea dixeris quæ_, _versantur in corde

ejus_.

(10) 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

companies, colleges, and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, 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.

(11) The knowledge concerning good respecting society doth handle it

also, not simply alone, but comparatively; 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 extolled, yet what was said?

“Infelix, utcunque ferent ea fata minores.”