to the Top of it, and did with a perspect shew to him the Town, as
plainly as if he had been in it: at this the King did wonder, but Fryer
_Bacon_ told him, that he should wonder more, ere next day noon: against
which Time, he desired him to have his whole Army in readiness, for to
scale the wall upon a signal given by him, from the Mount. This the King
promised to do, and so returned to his Tent full of Joy, that he should
gain this strong Town. In the morning Fryer _Bacon_ went up to the Mount
and set his Glasses, and other Instruments up: in the meantime the King
ordered his Army, and stood in a readiness for to give the assaults:
when the signal was given which was the waving of a flag. Ere nine of
the clock Fryer _Bacon_ had burnt the State-house of the Town, with
other houses only by his Mathematical Glasses, which made the whole Town
in an uproar, for none did know how it came: whilst that they were
quenching of the same, Fryer _Bacon_ did wave his flag: upon which
signal given, the King set upon the Town, and took it with little or no
resistance. Thus through the Art of this learned man the King got this
strong Town, which he could not do with all his men without Fryer
_Bacon's_ help.
HOW FRYER BACON BURNT HIS BOOKS OF MAGIC AND GAVE HIMSELF TO THE STUDY
OF DIVINITY ONLY; AND HOW HE TURNED ANCHORITE.
Now in a time when Fryer _Bacon_ kept his Chamber (having some great
grief) he fell into divers meditations: sometimes into the vanity of
Arts and Sciences: then would he condemn himself for studying of those
things that were so contrary to his Order and Soul's health; and would
say that Magic made a Man a Devil; sometimes would he meditate on
Divinity; then would he cry out upon himself for neglecting the study of
it, and for studying Magic: sometime would he meditate on the shortness
of man's life, then would he condemn himself for spending a time so
short, so ill as he had done his: so would he go from one thing to
another and in all condemn his former studies.
And that the world should know how truly he did repent his wicked life,
he caused to be made a great fire; and sending for many of his Friends,
Scholars, and others, he spake to them after this manner: "My good
Friends and fellow Students, it is not unknown unto you, how that
through my Art I have attained to that credit, that few men living ever
had. Of the wonders that I have done, all England can speak, both King
and Commons: I have unlocked the secret of Art and Nature, and let the
world see those things, that have layen hid since the death of Hermes,
that rare and profound Philosopher: My Studies have found the secrets of
the Stars; the Books that I have made of them, do serve for Precedents
to our greatest Doctors, so excellent hath my Judgement been therein. I
likewise have found out the secrets of Trees, Plants and Stones, with
their several uses; yet all this knowledge of mine I esteem so lightly,
that I wish that I were ignorant, and knew nothing: for the knowledge of
these things, (as I have truly found) serveth not to better a man in
goodness, but only to make him proud and think too well of himself. What
hath all my knowledge of nature's secrets gained me? Only this, the loss
of a better knowledge, the loss of divine Studies, which makes the
immortal part of man (his Soul) blessed. I have found, that my knowledge
has been a heavy burden, and has kept down my good thoughts: but I will
remove the cause which are these Books: which I do purpose here before
you all to burn." They all intreated him to spare the Books, because in
them there were those things that after-ages might receive great benefit
by. He would not hearken unto them but threw them all into the fire, and
in that flame burnt the greatest learning in the world. Then did he
dispose of all his goods; some part he gave to poor Scholars, and some
he gave to other poor folks: nothing he left for himself: then caused he
to be made in the Church-wall a Cell, where he locked himself in, and
there remained till his death. His time he spent in Prayer, Meditation
and such Divine Exercises, and did seek by all means to persuade men
from the study of Magic. Thus lived he some two years space in that
Cell, never coming forth: his meat and drink he received in at a window,
and at that window he did discourse with those that came to him; His
grave he digged with his own nails, and was laid there when he dyed.
Thus was the Life and Death of this famous Fryer, who lived the most
part of his life a Magician, and died a true penitent sinner and an
Anchorite.
When Hester had finished reading, one of the boys said that if people
believed such things as that, he thought the wonder was that they made
any progress at all. Uncle Fritz said that in matters which make up what
we call science, they did not make much progress. The arts of the world
do not seem to have advanced much between the days of Solomon and those
of William the Conqueror.
"As you see," said Uncle Fritz, "an inventor was set down as a magician.
I think you can remember more instances."
Yes. Almost all the young people remember that in Marco Polo's day there
was a distinguished Venetian engineer with the armies of Genghis Khan,
whose wonderful successes gave rise, perhaps, to the story of
Aladdin.[5] The scene of his successes was Pekin; and it is to be
remembered that the story of Aladdin is not properly one of the Arabian
Nights, and that the scene is laid in China.
This led them to trying to match the wonders of Aladdin and of the
Arabian Nights by the wonders of modern invention; and they pleased
themselves by thinking of marvels they could show to unlearned nations
if they had the resources of Mr. Edison's laboratory.
"Aladdin rubbed his lamp," said Blanche. "You see, the lamp was his
electrical machine; and when he rubbed it, the lightnings went flying
hither and thither, and said, 'Here we are.'"
"That is all very fine," said Jack Withers; "but I stand by the Arabian
Nights, after all, and I think I shall, till Mr. Edison or the Taunton
locomotive shop will make for me some high-stepper on whose back I may
rise above the clouds, pass over the length and breadth of
Massachusetts, descend in the garden where Blanche is confined by the
hated mistress of a boarding-school in Walpole, and then, winning her
ready consent, can mount again with her, and before morning descend in
the garden of a beautiful cottage at Newport. We will spend six weeks in
playing tennis in the daytime, dancing in the Casino in the evenings,
and in sailing in Frank Shattuck's yacht between whiles. Then, and not
till then, would I admit that the Arabian Nights have been outdone by
modern science."
They all laughed at Jack's extravaganza, which is of a kind to which
they are beginning to be accustomed. But Mabel stuck to her text, and
said seriously, that Uncle Fred had said that what people now called
science sprung from the workshops of these very magicians. "The
magicians then had all the science there was. And if magic had not got a
bad name, should we not call the men of science magicians now?"
Uncle Fritz said yes to all her questions, but he said that they did not
cover the whole matter. The difference between a magician and a man of
science involves these habits: the magician keeps secret what he knows,
while the man of science discloses all he learns. Then the magician
affected to have spiritual power at command, while the man of science
only affects to use what he calls physical powers. Till either of them
tell us how to distinguish spiritual forces from physical forces, the
second distinction is of the less importance. But the other has made all
the difference in the world between the poor magic-men and the
science-men. For, as they had seen with Friar Bacon, the magic-men have
had their stories told by most ignorant people, seeing they did not
generally leave any records behind them; but the men of modern science,
having chosen to tell their own stories, have had them told, on the
whole, reasonably well, though generally stupidly.
"What a pity we have not Solomon's books of science!" said John Tolman.
"It is one of the greatest of pities that such books as those were not
kept. It seems as if people would have built on such foundations, and
that Science would have marched from step to step, instead of beginning
over and over again. But we do have Pliny's Natural History, as he chose
to call it. Far from building on that as a foundation, the Dark Ages
simply accepted it. And there are blunders or sheer lies in that book,
and in Aristotle's books, and Theophrastus's, and other such, which have
survived even to our day."
The children were peeping into the collection from which the Friar Bacon
stories had been read, and they lighted on these scraps about the
supposed life of Virgil. To the people of the Dark Ages Virgil was much
more a man of magic than a poet.
HOW VIRGILIUS WAS SET TO SCHOOL.
As Virgilius was born, then the town of Rome quaked and trembled: and in
his youth he was wise and subtle, and was put to school at Tolentin,
where he studied diligently, for he was of great understanding. Upon a
time the scholars had licence to go to play and sport them in the fields
after the usance of the old time; and there was also Virgilius thereby
also walking among the hills all about: it fortuned he spied a great
hole in the side of a great hill wherein he went so deep that he could
not see no more light, and then he went a little further therein, and
then he saw some light again, and then went he forth straight: and
within a little while after, he heard a voice that called, "Virgilius,
Virgilius;" and he looked about, and he could not see no body; then
Virgilius spake and asked, "Who calleth me?" Then heard he the voice
again, but he saw nobody: then said he, "Virgilius, see ye not that
little board lying beside you there, marked with that word?" Then
answered Virgilius, "I see that board well enough." The voice said, "Do
away that board, and let me out thereat." Then answered Virgilius to the
voice that was under the little board, and said, "Who art thou that
talkest me so!" Then answered the devil: "I am a devil, conjured out of
the body of a certain man, and banished till the day of judgement,
without I be delivered by the hands of men. Thus, Virgilius, I pray you
to deliver me out of this pain, and I shall shew unto thee many books of
necromancy, and how thou shalt come by it lightly and know the practise
therein, that no man in the science of necromancy shall pass thee; and
moreover I shall shew and inform you so that thou shalt have all thy
desire, whereby methinks it is a great gift for so little a doing, for
ye may also thus all your friends helpen, and make your enemies
unmighty." Through that great promise was Virgil tempted; he had the
fiend shew the books to him that he might have and occupy them at his
will. And so the fiend shewed him, and then Virgilius pulled open a
board, and there was a little hole, and thereat crawled the devil out
like an eel, and came and stood before Virgilius like a big man; thereat
Virgilius was astonished and marvelled greatly thereof that so great a
man might come out at so little a hole; then said Virgilius, "should ye
well pass into the hole that ye came out of?" "Yea, I shall well," said
the devil.--"I hold the best pledge that I have, ye shall not do it."
"Well," said the devil, "thereto I consent." And then the devil crawled
into the little hole again, and as he was therein, Virgilius covered the
hole again, and so was the devil beguiled, and might not there come out
again, but there abideth still therein. Then called the devil dreadfully
to Virgilius and said, "What have ye done?" Virgilius answered, "Abide
there still to your day appointed." And from thenceforth abideth he
there. And so Virgilius became very cunning in the practise of the black
science.
HOWE THE EMPEROR ASKED COUNSEL OF VIRGILIUS, HOW THE NIGHT RUNNERS AND
ILL DOERS MIGHT BE RID-OUT OF THE STREETS.
The emperor had many complaints of the night runners and thieves, and
also of the great murdering of people in the night, in so much that the
emperor asked counsel of Virgilius, and said: "That he hath great
complaints of the thieves that runneth by night for they kill many men;
what counsel, Virgilius, is best to be done?" Then answered Virgilius to
the emperor, "Ye shall make a horse of copper and a copper man upon his
back, having in his hands a flail of iron, and that horse, ye shall so
bring afore the towne house, and ye shall let cry that a man from
henceforth at ten of the clock should ring a bell, and he that after the
bell was rung in the streets should be slain, no work thereof should be
done." And when this cry was made the ruffians set not a point, but kept
the streets as they did afore and would not let therefor; and as soon as
the bell was rung at ten of the clock, then leaped the horse of copper
with the copper man through the streets of Rome, insomuch that he left
not one street in Rome unsought; and as soon as he found any man or
woman in the street he slew them stalk dead, insomuch that he slew above
two hundred persons or more. And this seeing, the thieves and
night-runners how they might find a remedy therefor, thought in their
minds to make a drag with a ladder thereon; and as they would go out by
night they took their ladders with them, and when they heard the horse
come, then cast they the drag upon the houses, and so went up upon their
ladders to the top of the houses, so that the copper man might not touch
them; and so abide they still in their wicked doing. Then came they
again to the emperor and complained, and then the emperor asked counsel
of Virgilius; and Virgilius answered and said, "that then he must get
two copper hounds and set them of either side of the copper horse, and
let cry again that no body after the bell is rung should depart out of
their house that would live." But the night walkers cared not a point
for that cry; but when they heard the horse coming, with their ladders
climbed upon the houses, but the dogs leaped after and tore them all in
pieces; and thus the noise went through Rome, in so much that nobody
durst in the night go in the street, and thus all the night-walkers were
destroyed.
HOW VIRGILIUS MADE A LAMP THAT AT ALL TIMES BURNED.
For profit of the common people, Virgilius on a great mighty marble
pillar, did make a bridge that came up to the palace, and so went
Virgilius well up the pillar out of the palace; that palace and pillar
stood in the midst of Rome; and upon this pillar made he a lamp of
glass that always burned without going out, and nobody might put it out;
and this lamp lightened over all the city of Rome from the one corner to
the other, and there was not so little a street but it gave such light
that it seemed two torches there had stand; and upon the walls of the
palace made he a metal man that held in his hand a metal bow that
pointed ever upon the lamp for to shoot it out; but always burned the
lamp and gave light over all Rome. And upon a time went the burgesses'
daughters to play in the palace and beheld the metal man; and one of
them asked in sport, why he shot not? And then she came to the man and
with her hand touched the bow, and then the bolt flew out, and brake the
lamp that Virgilius made; and it was wonder that the maiden went not out
of her mind for the great fear she had, and also the other burgesses'
daughters that were in her company, of the great stroke that it gave
when it hit the lamp, and when they saw the metal man so swiftly run his
way; and never after was he no more seen; and this foresaid lamp was
abiding burning after the death of Virgilius by the space of three
hundred years or more.
It is on the wrecks and ruins recorded in such fables as these that
modern science is builded.
IV.
BENVENUTO CELLINI.
"Now we will leave the fairy tales," said Uncle Fritz, "and begin on
modern times."
"Modern times means since 1492," said Alice,--"the only date in history
I am quite sure of, excepting 1866."
"Eighteen-hundred and sixty-six," said John Goodrich,--"the _Annus
Mirabilis_, celebrated for the birth of Miss Alice Francis and Mr. J.
G."
"Hush, hush! Uncle Fritz wants to say something."
"We will leave the fairy tales," said poor chicken-pecked Uncle Fritz,
"and begin with Benvenuto Cellini. Who has seen any of his work?"
Several of the girls who had been in Europe remembered seeing gold and
silver work of Benvenuto Cellini's in the museums. Uncle Fritz told them
that the little hand-bell used on his own tea-table was modelled at
Chicopee, in Massachusetts, from a bell which was the design of
Benvenuto Cellini; and he sent for the bell that the children might see
how ingenious was the ornamentation, and how simply the different
designs were connected together.
He told Alice she might read first from Vasari's account of him.
Vasari's book, which the children now saw for the first time, is a very
entertaining one. Vasari was himself an artist, of the generation just
following Michael Angelo. He was, indeed, the contemporary of Raphael.
But he is remembered now, not for his pictures, nor for his work in
architecture, both of which were noted in his time, but for his lives of
the most excellent painters, sculptors, and architects, which was first
published in 1550. Benvenuto Cellini was born ten years before Vasari,
and here is a part of Vasari's life of him.
LIFE OF BENVENUTO CELLINI.
Benvenuto Cellini, citizen of Florence, born in 1500, at present a
sculptor, in his youth cultivated the goldsmith's business, and had no
equal in that branch. He set jewels, and adorned them with diminutive
figures, exquisitely formed, and some of them so curious and fanciful
that nothing finer or more beautiful can be conceived. At Rome he made
for Pope Clement VII. a button to be worn upon his pontifical habit,
fixing a diamond to it with the most exquisite art. He was employed to
make the stamps for the Roman mint, and there never have been seen finer
coins than those that were struck in Rome at that period.
After the death of Pope Clement, Benvenuto returned to Florence, where
he made stamps with the head of Duke Alessandro, for the mint,
wonderfully beautiful. Benvenuto, having at last devoted himself to
sculpture and casting statues, made in France many works, while he was
employed at the Court of King Francis I. He afterwards came back to his
native country, where he executed in metal the statue of Perseus, who
cut off Medusa's head. This work was brought to perfection with the
greatest art and diligence imaginable.
Though I might here enlarge on the productions of Benvenuto, who always
shewed himself a man of great spirit and vivacity, bold, active,
enterprising, and formidable to his enemies,--a man, in short, who knew
as well how to speak to princes as to exert himself in his art,--I shall
add nothing further, since he has written an account of his life and
works, and a treatise on goldsmith's work as well as on casting statues
and many other subjects, with more art and eloquence than it is possible
for me to imitate. I shall therefore content myself with this account of
his chief performances.
Benvenuto was quite proud of his own abilities as a writer. Very
fortunately for us he has left his own memoirs. Here is the
introduction.
BENVENUTO'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
"It is a duty incumbent on upright and credible men of all ranks, who
have performed anything noble or praiseworthy, to record, in their own
writing, the events of their lives; yet they should not commence this
honorable task before they have passed their fortieth year. Such at
least is my opinion, now that I have completed my fifty-eighth year, and
am settled in Florence.
"Looking back on some delightful and happy events of my life, and on
many misfortunes so truly overwhelming that the appalling retrospect
makes me wonder how I reached this age, in vigor and prosperity, through
God's goodness, I have resolved to publish an account of my life.
"My grandfather, Andrea Cellini, was still living when I was about
three years of age, and he was then above a hundred. As they were one
day removing a water-pipe, a large scorpion, which they had not
perceived, came out of it. The scorpion descended upon the ground and
had got under a great bench, when I, seeing it, ran and caught it in my
hand. This scorpion was of such a size that whilst I held it in my
little hand, it put out its tail on one side, and on the other darted
its two mouths. I ran overjoyed to my grandfather, crying out,
'Grandfather, look at my pretty little crab!' The good old man, who knew
it to be a scorpion, was so frightened, and so apprehensive for my
safety, that he seemed ready to drop down dead, and begged me with great
eagerness to give the creature to him; but I grasped it the harder and
cried, for I did not choose to part with it. My father, who was in the
house, ran to us upon hearing the noise, and, happening just at that
instant to espy a pair of scissors, he laid hold of them, and, by
caressing and playing with me, he contrived to cut off the head and tail
of the scorpion. Then, finding I had received no harm from the venomous
reptile, he pronounced it a happy omen."
* * * * *
His father taught him to play upon the flute, and wished him to devote
himself to music; but his own inclinations were different.
"Having attained the age of fifteen, I engaged myself, against my
father's inclinations, with a goldsmith named Antonio di Sandro, an
excellent artist and a very worthy man. My father would not have him
allow me any wages; for this reason, that since I voluntarily applied
myself to this art, I might have an opportunity to withdraw whenever I
thought proper. So great was my inclination to improve, that in a few
months I rivalled the most skilful journeyman in the business, and began
to reap some fruits from my labor. I continued, however, to play
sometimes, through complaisance to my father, either upon the flute or
the horn; and I constantly drew tears and deep sighs from him every time
he heard me. From a feeling of filial piety, I often gave him that
satisfaction, endeavoring to persuade him that it gave me also
particular pleasure.
"Once when I was staying at Pisa, my father wrote to me in every letter
exhorting me not to neglect my flute, in which he had taken so much
pains to instruct me. Upon this, I entirely lost all inclination to
return to him; and to such a degree did I hate that abominable flute,
that I thought myself in a sort of paradise in Pisa, where I never once
played upon that instrument."
* * * * *
At the age of twenty-three (in 1523), Cellini went to Rome, where he did
much work for the Pope, Clement VII.
"About this time so dreadful an epidemic disease prevailed in Rome, that
several thousands died every day. Somewhat terrified at this calamity, I
began to indulge myself in certain recreations, as the fancy took me. On
holidays I amused myself with visiting the antiquities of that city, and
sometimes took their figures in wax; at other times, I made drawings of
them. As these antiquities are all ruinous edifices, where a number of
pigeons build their nests, I had a mind to divert myself among them with
my fowling-piece, and often returned home laden with pigeons of the
largest size. But I never chose to put more than a single ball into my
piece, and in this manner, being a good marksman, I procured a
considerable quantity of game. The fowling-piece was, both on the inside
and the outside, as bright as a looking-glass. I likewise made the
powder as fine as the minutest dust, and in the use of it I discovered
some of the most admirable secrets that ever were known till this time.
When I had charged my piece with a quantity of powder equal in weight to
the fifth part of the ball, it carried two hundred paces, point blank.
"While I was enjoying these pleasures, my spirits suddenly revived. I no
longer had my usual gloom, and I worked to more purpose than when my
attention was wholly engrossed by business; on the whole, my gun turned
rather to my advantage than the contrary.
"All Italy was now up in arms, and the Constable Bourbon, finding there
were no troops in Rome, eagerly advanced with his army towards that
capital. Upon the news of his approach, all the inhabitants took up
arms. I engaged fifty brave young men to serve under me, and we were
well paid and kindly treated.
"The army of the Duke of Bourbon having already appeared before the
walls of Rome, Alessandro del Bene requested that I would go with him to
oppose the enemy. I complied, and, taking one of the stoutest youths
with us,--we were afterwards joined by another,--we came up to the walls
of Campo Santo, and there descried that great army which was employing
every effort to enter the town at that part of the wall to which we had
approached. Many young men were slain without the walls, where they
fought with the utmost fury; there was a remarkably thick mist.