PART II.

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LEVIATHAN,

OR

THE MATTER, FORM, AND POWER

OF A

COMMONWEALTH

ECCLESIASTICAL AND CIVIL.

[Illustration: _Non est potestas Super Terram quæ Comparetur ei._]

THE

ENGLISH WORKS

OF

THOMAS HOBBES

OF MALMESBURY;

NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED

BY

SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.

---

VOL III.

---

LONDON:

JOHN BOHN,

HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

---

MDCCCXXXIX.

LONDON:

C. RICHARDS, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN’S LANE.

TO MY MOST HONOR’D FRIEND

MR. FRANCIS GODOLPHIN,

OF GODOLPHIN.

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HONOR’D SIR,

Your most worthy brother, Mr. SIDNEY GODOLPHIN, when he lived, was

pleased to think my studies something, and otherwise to oblige me, as

you know, with real testimonies of his good opinion, great in

themselves, and the greater for the worthiness of his person. For there

is not any virtue that disposeth a man, either to the service of God, or

to the service of his country, to civil society, or private friendship,

that did not manifestly appear in his conversation, not as acquired by

necessity, or affected upon occasion, but inherent, and shining in a

generous constitution of his nature. Therefore, in honour and gratitude

to him, and with devotion to yourself, I humbly dedicate unto you this

my discourse of Commonwealth. I know not how the world will receive it,

nor how it may reflect on those that shall seem to favour it. For in a

way beset with those that contend, on one side for too great liberty,

and on the other side for too much authority, ’tis hard to pass between

the points of both unwounded. But yet, methinks, the endeavour to

advance the civil power, should not be by the civil power condemned; nor

private men, by reprehending it, declare they think that power too

great. Besides, I speak not of the men, but, in the abstract, of the

seat of power, (like to those simple and unpartial creatures in the

Roman Capitol, that with their noise defended those within it, not

because they were they, but there), offending none, I think, but those

without, or such within, if there be any such, as favour them. That

which perhaps may most offend, are certain texts of Holy Scripture,

alleged by me to other purpose than ordinarily they use to be by others.

But I have done it with due submission, and also, in order to my

subject, necessarily; for they are the outworks of the enemy, from

whence they impugn the civil power. If notwithstanding this, you find my

labour generally decried, you may be pleased to excuse yourself, and

say, I am a man that love my own opinions, and think all true I say,

that I honoured your brother, and honour you, and have presumed on that,

to assume the title, without your knowledge, of being, as I am,

SIR,

Your most humble,

and most obedient Servant,

THOMAS HOBBES.

_Paris, April 15/25, 1651._

THE CONTENTS OF THE CHAPTERS.

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THE FIRST PART.--OF MAN.

CHAP. PAGE.

Introduction ix

1. Of Sense 1

2. Of Imagination 3

3. Of the Consequence or Train of Imaginations 11

4. Of Speech 18

5. Of Reason and Science 29

6. Of the Interior Beginnings of Voluntary Motions,

commonly called the Passions; and the Speeches

by which they are expressed 38

7. Of the Ends or Resolutions of Discourse 51

8. Of the Virtues, commonly called Intellectual; and

their contrary Defects 56

9. Of the Several Subjects of Knowledge 71

10. Of Power, Worth, Dignity, Honour, and Worthiness 74

11. Of the Difference of Manners 85

12. Of Religion 94

13. Of the Natural Condition of Mankind as concerning

their Felicity and Misery 110

14. Of the First and Second Natural Laws, and of

Contract 116

15. Of other Laws of Nature 130

16. Of Persons, Authors, and Things Personated 147

THE SECOND PART.--OF COMMONWEALTH.

17. Of the Causes, Generation, and Definition of a

Commonwealth 153

18. Of the Rights of Sovereigns by Institution 159

19. Of the several kinds of Commonwealth by

Institution; and of Succession to the Sovereign

Power 171

20. Of Dominion Paternal, and Despotical 185

21. Of the Liberty of Subjects 196

22. Of Systems Subject, Political, and Private 210

23. Of the Public Ministers of Sovereign Power 226

24. Of the Nutrition, and Procreation of a

Commonwealth 232

25. Of Counsel 240

26. Of Civil Laws 250

27. Of Crimes, Excuses, and Extenuations 277

28. Of Punishments, and Rewards 297

29. Of those things that weaken, or tend to the

Dissolution of a Commonwealth 308

30. Of the Office of the Sovereign Representative 322

31. Of the Kingdom of God by Nature 343

THE THIRD PART.--OF A CHRISTIAN COMMONWEALTH.

32. Of the Principles of Christian Politics 359

33. Of the Number, Antiquity, Scope, Authority, and

Interpreters of the Books of Holy Scripture 366

34. Of the Signification of Spirit, Angel, and

Inspiration, in the Books of Holy Scripture 380

35. Of the Signification in Scripture of the Kingdom

of God, of Holy, Sacred, and Sacrament 396

36. Of the Word of God, and of Prophets 407

37. Of Miracles, and their Use 427

38. Of the Signification in Scripture of Eternal Life,

Hell, Salvation, the World to Come, and

Redemption 437

39. Of the Signification in Scripture of the word

Church 458

40. Of the Rights of the Kingdom of God, in Abraham,

Moses, the High-Priests, and the Kings of Judah 461

41. Of the Office of Our Blessed Saviour 475

42. Of Power Ecclesiastical 485

43. Of what is Necessary for a Man’s Reception into

the Kingdom of Heaven 584

THE FOURTH PART.--OF THE KINGDOM OF DARKNESS.

44. Of Spiritual Darkness, from Misinterpretation of

Scripture 603

45. Of Demonology, and other Relics of the Religion of

the Gentiles 637

46. Of Darkness from Vain Philosophy, and Fabulous

Traditions 664

47. Of the Benefit proceeding from such Darkness; and

to whom it accrueth 688

A Review and Conclusion 701

THE

INTRODUCTION.

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Nature, the art whereby God hath made and governs the world, is by the

_art_ of man, as in many other things, so in this also imitated, that it

can make an artificial animal. For seeing life is but a motion of limbs,

the beginning whereof is in some principal part within; why may we not

say, that all _automata_ (engines that move themselves by springs and

wheels as doth a watch) have an artificial life? For what is the

_heart_, but a _spring_; and the _nerves_, but so many _strings_; and

the _joints_, but so many _wheels_, giving motion to the whole body,

such as was intended by the artificer? _Art_ goes yet further, imitating

that rational and most excellent work of nature, _man_. For by art is

created that great LEVIATHAN called a COMMONWEALTH, or STATE, in Latin

CIVITAS, which is but an artificial man; though of greater stature and

strength than the natural, for whose protection and defence it was

intended; and in which the _sovereignty_ is an artificial _soul_, as

giving life and motion to the whole body; the _magistrates_, and other

_officers_ of judicature and execution, artificial _joints_; _reward_

and _punishment_, by which fastened to the seat of the sovereignty every

joint and member is moved to perform his duty, are the _nerves_, that do

the same in the body natural; the _wealth_ and _riches_ of all the

particular members, are the _strength_; _salus populi_, the _people’s

safety_, its _business_; _counsellors_, by whom all things needful for

it to know are suggested unto it, are the _memory_; _equity_, and

_laws_, an artificial _reason_ and _will_; _concord_, _health_;

_sedition_, _sickness_; and _civil war_, _death_. Lastly, the _pacts_

and _covenants_, by which the parts of this body politic were at first

made, set together, and united, resemble that _fiat_, or the _let us

make man_, pronounced by God in the creation.

To describe the nature of this artificial man, I will consider

First, the _matter_ thereof, and the _artificer_; both which is _man_.

Secondly, _how_, and by what _covenants_ it is made; what are the

_rights_ and just _power_ or _authority_ of a _sovereign_; and what it

is that _preserveth_ or _dissolveth_ it.

Thirdly, what is a _Christian commonwealth_.

Lastly, what is the _kingdom of darkness_.

Concerning the first, there is a saying much usurped of late, that

_wisdom_ is acquired, not by reading of _books_, but of _men_.

Consequently whereunto, those persons, that for the most part can give

no other proof of being wise, take great delight to show what they think

they have read in men, by uncharitable censures of one another behind

their backs. But there is another saying not of late understood, by

which they might learn truly to read one another, if they would take the

pains; that is, _nosce teipsum_, _read thyself_: which was not meant, as

it is now used, to countenance, either the barbarous state of men in

power, towards their inferiors; or to encourage men of low degree, to a

saucy behaviour towards their betters; but to teach us, that for the

similitude of the thoughts and passions of one man, to the thoughts and

passions of another, whosoever looketh into himself, and considereth

what he doth, when he does _think_, _opine_, _reason_, _hope_, _fear_,

&c. and upon what grounds; he shall thereby read and know, what are the

thoughts and passions of all other men upon the like occasions. I say

the similitude of _passions_, which are the same in all men, _desire_,

_fear_, _hope_, &c.; not the similitude of the _objects_ of the

passions, which are the things _desired_, _feared_, _hoped_, &c.: for

these the constitution individual, and particular education, do so vary,

and they are so easy to be kept from our knowledge, that the characters

of man’s heart, blotted and confounded as they are with dissembling,

lying, counterfeiting, and erroneous doctrines, are legible only to him

that searcheth hearts. And though by men’s actions we do discover their

design sometimes; yet to do it without comparing them with our own, and

distinguishing all circumstances, by which the case may come to be

altered, is to decypher without a key, and be for the most part

deceived, by too much trust, or by too much diffidence; as he that

reads, is himself a good or evil man.

But let one man read another by his actions never so perfectly, it

serves him only with his acquaintance, which are but few. He that is to

govern a whole nation, must read in himself, not this or that particular

man; but mankind: which though it be hard to do, harder than to learn

any language or science; yet when I shall have set down my own reading

orderly, and perspicuously, the pains left another, will be only to

consider, if he also find not the same in himself. For this kind of

doctrine admitteth no other demonstration.

PART I.

OF MAN.

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CHAPTER I.

OF SENSE.

[Sidenote: Sense.]

Concerning the thoughts of man, I will consider them first singly, and

afterwards in train, or dependence upon one another. Singly, they are

every one a _representation_ or _appearance_, of some quality, or other

accident of a body without us, which is commonly called an _object_.

Which object worketh on the eyes, ears, and other parts of a man’s body;

and by diversity of working, produceth diversity of appearances.

The original of them all, is that which we call SENSE, for there is no

conception in a man’s mind, which hath not at first, totally, or by

parts, been begotten upon the organs of sense. The rest are derived from

that original.

To know the natural cause of sense, is not very necessary to the

business now in hand; and I have elsewhere written of the same at large.

Nevertheless, to fill each part of my present method, I will briefly

deliver the same in this place.

The cause of sense, is the external body, or object, which presseth the

organ proper to each sense, either immediately, as in the taste and

touch; or mediately, as in seeing, hearing, and smelling; which

pressure, by the mediation of the nerves, and other strings and

membranes of the body, continued inwards to the brain and heart, causeth

there a resistance, or counter-pressure, or endeavour of the heart to

deliver itself, which endeavour, because _outward_, seemeth to be some

matter without. And this _seeming_, or _fancy_, is that which men call

_sense_; and consisteth, as to the eye, in a _light_, or _colour

figured_; to the ear, in a _sound_; to the nostril, in an _odour_; to

the tongue and palate, in a _savour_; and to the rest of the body, in

_heat_, _cold_, _hardness_, _softness_, and such other qualities as we

discern by _feeling_. All which qualities, called _sensible_, are in the

object, that causeth them, but so many several motions of the matter, by

which it presseth our organs diversely. Neither in us that are pressed,

are they any thing else, but divers motions; for motion produceth

nothing but motion. But their appearance to us is fancy, the same

waking, that dreaming. And as pressing, rubbing, or striking the eye,

makes us fancy a light; and pressing the ear, produceth a din; so do the

bodies also we see, or hear, produce the same by their strong, though

unobserved action. For if those colours and sounds were in the bodies,

or objects that cause them, they could not be severed from them, as by

glasses, and in echoes by reflection, we see they are; where we know the

thing we see is in one place, the appearance in another. And though at

some certain distance, the real and very object seem invested with the

fancy it begets in us; yet still the object is one thing, the image or

fancy is another. So that sense, in all cases, is nothing else but

original fancy, caused, as I have said, by the pressure, that is, by the

motion, of external things upon our eyes, ears, and other organs

thereunto ordained.

But the philosophy-schools, through all the universities of Christendom,

grounded upon certain texts of Aristotle, teach another doctrine, and

say, for the cause of _vision_, that the thing seen, sendeth forth on

every side a _visible species_, in English, a _visible show_,

_apparition_, or _aspect_, or _a being seen_; the receiving whereof into

the eye, is _seeing_. And for the cause of _hearing_, that the thing

heard, sendeth forth an _audible species_, that is an _audible aspect_,

or _audible being seen_; which entering at the ear, maketh _hearing_.

Nay, for the cause of _understanding_ also, they say the thing

understood, sendeth forth an _intelligible species_, that is, an

_intelligible being seen_; which, coming into the understanding, makes

us understand. I say not this, as disproving the use of universities;

but because I am to speak hereafter of their office in a commonwealth, I

must let you see on all occasions by the way, what things would be

amended in them; amongst which the frequency of insignificant speech is

one.

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CHAPTER II.

OF IMAGINATION.

[Sidenote: Imagination.]

That when a thing lies still, unless somewhat else stir it, it will lie

still for ever, is a truth that no man doubts of. But that when a thing

is in motion, it will eternally be in motion, unless somewhat else stay

it, though the reason be the same, namely, that nothing can change

itself, is not so easily assented to. For men measure, not only other

men, but all other things, by themselves; and because they find

themselves subject after motion to pain, and lassitude, think every

thing else grows weary of motion, and seeks repose of its own accord;

little considering, whether it be not some other motion, wherein that

desire of rest they find in themselves, consisteth. From hence it is,

that the schools say, heavy bodies fall downwards, out of an appetite to

rest, and to conserve their nature in that place which is most proper

for them; ascribing appetite, and knowledge of what is good for their

conservation, which is more than man has, to things inanimate, absurdly.

When a body is once in motion, it moveth, unless something else hinder

it, eternally; and whatsoever hindreth it, cannot in an instant, but in

time, and by degrees, quite extinguish it; and as we see in the water,

though the wind cease, the waves give not over rolling for a long time

after: so also it happeneth in that motion, which is made in the

internal parts of a man, then, when he sees, dreams, &c. For after the

object is removed, or the eye shut, we still retain an image of the

thing seen, though more obscure than when we see it. And this is it, the

Latins call _imagination_, from the image made in seeing; and apply the

same, though improperly, to all the other senses. But the Greeks call it

_fancy_; which signifies _appearance_, and is as proper to one sense, as

to another. IMAGINATION therefore is nothing but _decaying sense_; and

is found in men, and many other living creatures, as well sleeping, as

waking.

The decay of sense in men waking, is not the decay of the motion made in

sense; but an obscuring of it, in such manner as the light of the sun

obscureth the light of the stars; which stars do no less exercise their

virtue, by which they are visible, in the day than in the night. But

because amongst many strokes, which our eyes, ears, and other organs

receive from external bodies, the predominant only is sensible;

therefore, the light of the sun being predominant, we are not affected

with the action of the stars. And any object being removed from our

eyes, though the impression it made in us remain, yet other objects more

present succeeding, and working on us, the imagination of the past is

obscured, and made weak, as the voice of a man is in the noise of the

day. From whence it followeth, that the longer the time is, after the

sight or sense of any object, the weaker is the imagination. For the

continual change of man’s body destroys in time the parts which in sense

were moved: so that distance of time, and of place, hath one and the

same effect in us. For as at a great distance of place, that which we

look at appears dim, and without distinction of the smaller parts; and

as voices grow weak, and inarticulate; so also, after great distance of

time, our imagination of the past is weak; and we lose, for example, of

cities we have seen, many particular streets, and of actions, many

particular circumstances. This _decaying sense_, when we would express

the thing itself, I mean _fancy_ itself, we call _imagination_, as I

said before: but when we would express the decay, and signify that the

sense is fading, old, and past, it is called _memory_. So that

imagination and memory are but one thing, which for divers

considerations hath divers names.

[Sidenote: Memory.]

Much memory, or memory of many things, is called _experience_. Again,

imagination being only of those things which have been formerly

perceived by sense, either all at once, or by parts at several times;

the former, which is the imagining the whole object as it was presented

to the sense, is _simple_ imagination, as when one imagineth a man, or

horse, which he hath seen before. The other is _compounded_; as when,

from the sight of a man at one time, and of a horse at another, we

conceive in our mind a Centaur. So when a man compoundeth the image of

his own person with the image of the actions of another man, as when a

man imagines himself a Hercules or an Alexander, which happeneth often

to them that are much taken with reading of romances, it is a compound

imagination, and properly but a fiction of the mind. There be also other

imaginations that rise in men, though waking, from the great impression

made in sense: as from gazing upon the sun, the impression leaves an

image of the sun before our eyes a long time after; and from being long

and vehemently attent upon geometrical figures, a man shall in the dark,

though awake, have the images of lines and angles before his eyes; which

kind of fancy hath no particular name, as being a thing that doth not

commonly fall into men’s discourse.

[Sidenote: Dreams.]

The imaginations of them that sleep are those we call _dreams_. And

these also, as all other imaginations, have been before, either totally

or by parcels, in the sense. And because in sense, the brain and nerves,

which are the necessary organs of sense, are so benumbed in sleep, as

not easily to be moved by the action of external objects, there can

happen in sleep no imagination, and therefore no dream, but what

proceeds from the agitation of the inward parts of man’s body; which

inward parts, for the connexion they have with the brain, and other

organs, when they be distempered, do keep the same in motion; whereby

the imaginations there formerly made, appear as if a man were waking;

saving that the organs of sense being now benumbed, so as there is no

new object, which can master and obscure them with a more vigorous

impression, a dream must needs be more clear, in this silence of sense,

than our waking thoughts. And hence it cometh to pass, that it is a hard

matter, and by many thought impossible, to distinguish exactly between

sense and dreaming. For my part, when I consider that in dreams I do not

often nor constantly think of the same persons, places, objects, and

actions, that I do waking; nor remember so long a train of coherent

thoughts, dreaming, as at other times; and because waking I often

observe the absurdity of dreams, but never dream of the absurdities of

my waking thoughts; I am well satisfied, that being awake, I know I

dream not, though when I dream I think myself awake.

And seeing dreams are caused by the distemper of some of the inward

parts of the body, divers distempers must needs cause different dreams.

And hence it is that lying cold breedeth dreams of fear, and raiseth the

thought and image of some fearful object, the motion from the brain to

the inner parts and from the inner parts to the brain being reciprocal;

and that as anger causeth heat in some parts of the body when we are

awake, so when we sleep the overheating of the same parts causeth anger,

and raiseth up in the brain the imagination of an enemy. In the same

manner, as natural kindness, when we are awake, causeth desire, and

desire makes heat in certain other parts of the body; so also too much

heat in those parts, while we sleep, raiseth in the brain an imagination

of some kindness shown. In sum, our dreams are the reverse of our waking

imaginations; the motion when we are awake beginning at one end, and

when we dream at another.

[Sidenote: Apparitions or visions.]

The most difficult discerning of a man’s dream, from his waking

thoughts, is then, when by some accident we observe not that we have

slept: which is easy to happen to a man full of fearful thoughts, and

whose conscience is much troubled; and that sleepeth, without the

circumstances of going to bed or putting off his clothes, as one that

noddeth in a chair. For he that taketh pains, and industriously lays

himself to sleep, in case any uncouth and exorbitant fancy come unto

him, cannot easily think it other than a dream. We read of Marcus

Brutus, (one that had his life given him by Julius Cæsar, and was also

his favourite, and notwithstanding murdered him), how at Philippi, the

night before he gave battle to Augustus Cæsar, he saw a fearful

apparition, which is commonly related by historians as a vision; but

considering the circumstances, one may easily judge to have been but a

short dream. For sitting in his tent, pensive and troubled with the

horror of his rash act, it was not hard for him, slumbering in the cold,

to dream of that which most affrighted him; which fear, as by degrees it

made him wake, so also it must needs make the apparition by degrees to

vanish; and having no assurance that he slept, he could have no cause to

think it a dream, or any thing but a vision. And this is no very rare

accident; for even they that be perfectly awake, if they be timorous and

superstitious, possessed with fearful tales, and alone in the dark, are

subject to the like fancies, and believe they see spirits and dead men’s

ghosts walking in churchyards; whereas it is either their fancy only, or

else the knavery of such persons as make use of such superstitious fear,

to pass disguised in the night, to places they would not be known to

haunt.

From this ignorance of how to distinguish dreams, and other strong

fancies, from vision and sense, did arise the greatest part of the

religion of the Gentiles in time past, that worshipped satyrs, fawns,

nymphs, and the like; and now-a-days the opinion that rude people have

of fairies, ghosts, and goblins, and of the power of witches. For as for

witches, I think not that their witchcraft is any real power; but yet

that they are justly punished, for the false belief they have that they

can do such mischief, joined with their purpose to do it if they can;

their trade being nearer to a new religion than to a craft or science.

And for fairies, and walking ghosts, the opinion of them has, I think,

been on purpose either taught or not confuted, to keep in credit the use

of exorcism, of crosses, of holy water, and other such inventions of

ghostly men. Nevertheless, there is no doubt, but God can make unnatural

apparitions; but that he does it so often, as men need to fear such

things, more than they fear the stay or change of the course of nature,

which he also can stay, and change, is no point of Christian faith. But

evil men under pretext that God can do any thing, are so bold as to say

any thing when it serves their turn, though they think it untrue; it is

the part of a wise man, to believe them no farther, than right reason

makes that which they say, appear credible. If this superstitious fear

of spirits were taken away, and with it, prognostics from dreams, false

prophecies, and many other things depending thereon, by which crafty

ambitious persons abuse the simple people, men would be much more fitted

than they are for civil obedience.

And this ought to be the work of the schools: but they rather nourish

such doctrine. For, not knowing what imagination or the senses are, what

they receive, they teach: some saying, that imaginations rise of

themselves, and have no cause; others, that they rise most commonly from

the will; and that good thoughts are blown (inspired) into a man by God,

and evil thoughts by the Devil; or that good thoughts are poured

(infused) into a man by God, and evil ones by the Devil. Some say the

senses receive the species of things, and deliver them to the common

sense; and the common sense delivers them over to the fancy, and the

fancy to the memory, and the memory to the judgment, like handing of

things from one to another, with many words making nothing understood.

[Sidenote: Understanding.]

The imagination that is raised in man, or any other creature indued with

the faculty of imagining, by words, or other voluntary signs, is that we

generally call _understanding_; and is common to man and beast. For a

dog by custom will understand the call, or the rating of his master; and

so will many other beasts. That understanding which is peculiar to man,

is the understanding not only his will, but his conceptions and

thoughts, by the sequel and contexture of the names of things into

affirmations, negations, and other forms of speech; and of this kind of

understanding I shall speak hereafter.

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CHAPTER III.

OF THE CONSEQUENCE OR TRAIN OF IMAGINATIONS.

By _Consequence_, or TRAIN of thoughts, I understand that succession of

one thought to another, which is called, to distinguish it from

discourse in words, _mental discourse_.

When a man thinketh on any thing whatsoever, his next thought after, is

not altogether so casual as it seems to be. Not every thought to every

thought succeeds indifferently. But as we have no imagination, whereof

we have not formerly had sense, in whole, or in parts; so we have no

transition from one imagination to another, whereof we never had the

like before in our senses. The reason whereof is this. All fancies are

motions within us, relics of those made in the sense: and those motions

that immediately succeeded one another in the sense, continue also

together after sense: insomuch as the former coming again to take place,

and be predominant, the latter followeth, by coherence of the matter

moved, in such manner, as water upon a plane table is drawn which way

any one part of it is guided by the finger. But because in sense, to one

and the same thing perceived, sometimes one thing, sometimes another

succeedeth, it comes to pass in time, that in the imagining of any

thing, there is no certainty what we shall imagine next; only this is

certain, it shall be something that succeeded the same before, at one

time or another.

[Sidenote: Train of thoughts unguided.]

This train of thoughts, or mental discourse, is of two sorts. The first

is _unguided_, _without design_, and inconstant; wherein there is no

passionate thought, to govern and direct those that follow, to itself,

as the end and scope of some desire, or other passion: in which case the

thoughts are said to wander, and seem impertinent one to another, as in

a dream. Such are commonly the thoughts of men, that are not only

without company, but also without care of any thing; though even then

their thoughts are as busy as at other times, but without harmony; as

the sound which a lute out of tune would yield to any man; or in tune,

to one that could not play. And yet in this wild ranging of the mind, a

man may oft-times perceive the way of it, and the dependance of one

thought upon another. For in a discourse of our present civil war, what

could seem more impertinent, than to ask, as one did, what was the value

of a Roman penny? Yet the coherence to me was manifest enough. For the

thought of the war, introduced the thought of the delivering up the king

to his enemies; the thought of that, brought in the thought of the

delivering up of Christ; and that again the thought of the thirty pence,

which was the price of that treason; and thence easily followed that

malicious question, and all this in a moment of time; for thought is

quick.

[Sidenote: Train of thoughts regulated.]

The second is more constant; as being _regulated_ by some desire, and

design. For the impression made by such things as we desire, or fear, is

strong, and permanent, or, if it cease for a time, of quick return: so

strong it is sometimes, as to hinder and break our sleep. From desire,

ariseth the thought of some means we have seen produce the like of that

which we aim at; and from the thought of that, the thought of means to

that mean; and so continually, till we come to some beginning within our

own power. And because the end, by the greatness of the impression,

comes often to mind, in case our thoughts begin to wander, they are

quickly again reduced into the way: which observed by one of the seven

wise men, made him give men this precept, which is now worn out,

_Respice finem_; that is to say, in all your actions, look often upon

what you would have, as the thing that directs all your thoughts in the

way to attain it.

The train of regulated thoughts is of two kinds; one, when of an effect

imagined we seek the causes, or means that produce it: and this is

common to man and beast. The other is, when imagining any thing

whatsoever, we seek all the possible effects, that can by it be

produced; that is to say, we imagine what we can do with it, when we

have it. Of which I have not at any time seen any sign, but in man only;

for this is a curiosity hardly incident to the nature of any living

creature that has no other passion but sensual, such as are hunger,

thirst, lust, and anger. In sum, the discourse of the mind, when it is

governed by design, is nothing but _seeking_, or the faculty of

invention, which the Latins called _sagacitas_, and _solertia_; a

hunting out of the causes, of some effect, present or past; or of the

effects, of some present or past cause. Sometimes a man seeks what he

hath lost; and from that place, and time, wherein he misses it, his mind

runs back, from place to place, and time to time, to find where, and

when he had it; that is to say, to find some certain, and limited time

and place, in which to begin a method of seeking. Again, from thence,

his thoughts run over the same places and times, to find what action, or

other occasion might make him lose it. [Sidenote: Remembrance.] This we

call _remembrance_, or calling to mind: the Latins call it

_reminiscentia_, as it were a _re-conning_ of our former actions.

[Sidenote: Prudence.]

Sometimes a man knows a place determinate, within the compass whereof he

is to seek; and then his thoughts run over all the parts thereof, in the

same manner as one would sweep a room, to find a jewel; or as a spaniel

ranges the field, till he find a scent; or as a man should run over the

alphabet, to start a rhyme.

Sometimes a man desires to know the event of an action; and then he

thinketh of some like action past, and the events thereof one after

another; supposing like events will follow like actions. As he that

foresees what will become of a criminal, re-cons what he has seen follow

on the like crime before; having this order of thoughts, the crime, the

officer, the prison, the judge, and the gallows. Which kind of thoughts,

is called _foresight_, and _prudence_, or _providence_; and sometimes

_wisdom_; though such conjecture, through the difficulty of observing

all circumstances, be very fallacious. But this is certain; by how much

one man has more experience of things past, than another, by so much

also he is more prudent, and his expectations the seldomer fail him. The

_present_ only has a being in nature; things _past_ have a being in the

memory only, but things _to come_ have no being at all; the _future_

being but a fiction of the mind, applying the sequels of actions past,

to the actions that are present; which with most certainty is done by

him that has most experience, but not with certainty enough. And though

it be called prudence, when the event answereth our expectation; yet in

its own nature, it is but presumption. For the foresight of things to

come, which is providence, belongs only to him by whose will they are to

come. From him only, and supernaturally, proceeds prophecy. The best

prophet naturally is the best guesser; and the best guesser, he that is

most versed and studied in the matters he guesses at: for he hath most

_signs_ to guess by.

[Sidenote: Signs.]

A _sign_ is the evident antecedent of the consequent; and contrarily,

the consequent of the antecedent, when the like consequences have been

observed, before: and the oftener they have been observed, the less

uncertain is the sign. And therefore he that has most experience in any

kind of business, has most signs, whereby to guess at the future time;

and consequently is the most prudent: and so much more prudent than he

that is new in that kind of business, as not to be equalled by any

advantage of natural and extemporary wit: though perhaps many young men

think the contrary.

Nevertheless it is not prudence that distinguisheth man from beast.

There be beasts, that at a year old observe more, and pursue that which

is for their good, more prudently, than a child can do at ten.

[Sidenote: Conjecture of the time past.]

As prudence is a _presumption_ of the _future_, contracted from the

_experience_ of time _past_: so there is a presumption of things past

taken from other things, not future, but past also. For he that hath

seen by what courses and degrees a flourishing state hath first come

into civil war, and then to ruin; upon the sight of the ruins of any

other state, will guess, the like war, and the like courses have been

there also. But this conjecture, has the same uncertainty almost with

the conjecture of the future; both being grounded only upon experience.

There is no other act of man’s mind, that I can remember, naturally

planted in him, so as to need no other thing, to the exercise of it, but

to be born a man, and live with the use of his five senses. Those other

faculties, of which I shall speak by and by, and which seem proper to

man only, are acquired and increased by study and industry; and of most

men learned by instruction, and discipline; and proceed all from the

invention of words, and speech. For besides sense, and thoughts, and the

train of thoughts, the mind of man has no other motion; though by the

help of speech, and method, the same faculties may be improved to such a

height, as to distinguish men from all other living creatures.

[Sidenote: Infinite.]

Whatsoever we imagine is _finite_. Therefore there is no idea, or

conception of any thing we call _infinite_. No man can have in his mind

an image of infinite magnitude; nor conceive infinite swiftness,

infinite time, or infinite force, or infinite power. When we say any

thing is infinite, we signify only, that we are not able to conceive the

ends, and bounds of the things named; having no conception of the thing,

but of our own inability. And therefore the name of God is used, not to

make us conceive him, for he is incomprehensible; and his greatness, and

power are unconceivable; but that we may honour him. Also because,

whatsoever, as I said before, we conceive, has been perceived first by

sense, either all at once, or by parts; a man can have no thought,

representing any thing, not subject to sense. No man therefore can

conceive any thing, but he must conceive it in some place; and indued

with some determinate magnitude; and which may be divided into parts;

nor that any thing is all in this place, and all in another place at the

same time; nor that two, or more things can be in one, and the same

place at once: for none of these things ever have, nor can be incident

to sense; but are absurd speeches, taken upon credit, without any

signification at all, from deceived philosophers, and deceived, or

deceiving schoolmen.

-------

CHAPTER IV.

OF SPEECH.

[Sidenote: Original of speech.]

The invention of _printing_, though ingenious, compared with the

invention of _letters_, is no great matter. But who was the first that

found the use of letters, is not known. He that first brought them into

Greece, men say was Cadmus, the son of Agenor, king of Phœnicia. A

profitable invention for continuing the memory of time past, and the

conjunction of mankind, dispersed into so many, and distant regions of

the earth; and withal difficult, as proceeding from a watchful

observation of the divers motions of the tongue, palate, lips, and other

organs of speech; whereby to make as many differences of characters, to

remember them. But the most noble and profitable invention of all other,

was that of SPEECH, consisting of _names_ or _appellations_, and their

connexion; whereby men register their thoughts; recall them when they

are past; and also declare them one to another for mutual utility and

conversation; without which, there had been amongst men, neither

commonwealth, nor society, nor contract, nor peace, no more than amongst

lions, bears, and wolves. The first author of _speech_ was God himself,

that instructed Adam how to name such creatures as he presented to his

sight; for the Scripture goeth no further in this matter. But this was

sufficient to direct him to add more names, as the experience and use of

the creatures should give him occasion; and to join them in such manner

by degrees, as to make himself understood; and so by succession of time,

so much language might be gotten, as he had found use for; though not so

copious, as an orator or philosopher has need of: for I do not find any

thing in the Scripture, out of which, directly or by consequence, can be

gathered, that Adam was taught the names of all figures, numbers,

measures, colours, sounds, fancies, relations; much less the names of

words and speech, as _general_, _special_, _affirmative_, _negative_,

_interrogative_, _optative_, _infinitive_, all which are useful; and

least of all, of _entity_, _intentionality_, _quiddity_, and other

insignificant words of the school.

But all this language gotten, and augmented by Adam and his posterity,

was again lost at the Tower of Babel, when, by the hand of God, every

man was stricken, for his rebellion, with an oblivion of his former

language. And being hereby forced to disperse themselves into several

parts of the world, it must needs be, that the diversity of tongues that

now is, proceeded by degrees from them, in such manner, as need, the

mother of all inventions, taught them; and in tract of time grew

everywhere more copious.

[Sidenote: The use of speech.]

The general use of speech, is to transfer our mental discourse, into

verbal; or the train of our thoughts, into a train of words; and that

for two commodities, whereof one is the registering of the consequences

of our thoughts; which being apt to slip out of our memory, and put us

to a new labour, may again be recalled, by such words as they were

marked by. So that the first use of names is to serve for _marks_, or

_notes_ of remembrance. Another is, when many use the same words, to

signify, by their connexion and order, one to another, what they

conceive, or think of each matter; and also what they desire, fear, or

have any other passion for. And for this use they are called _signs_.

Special uses of speech are these; first, to register, what by

cogitation, we find to be the cause of any thing, present or past; and

what we find things present or past may produce, or effect; which in

sum, is acquiring of arts. Secondly, to show to others that knowledge

which we have attained, which is, to counsel and teach one another.

Thirdly, to make known to others our wills and purposes, that we may

have the mutual help of one another. Fourthly, to please and delight

ourselves and others, by playing with our words, for pleasure or

ornament, innocently.

[Sidenote: Abuses of speech.]

To these uses, there are also four correspondent abuses. First, when men

register their thoughts wrong, by the inconstancy of the signification

of their words; by which they register for their conception, that which

they never conceived, and so deceive themselves. Secondly, when they use

words metaphorically; that is, in other sense than that they are

ordained for; and thereby deceive others. Thirdly, by words, when they

declare that to be their will, which is not. Fourthly, when they use

them to grieve one another; for seeing nature hath armed living

creatures, some with teeth, some with horns, and some with hands, to

grieve an enemy, it is but an abuse of speech, to grieve him with the

tongue, unless it be one whom we are obliged to govern; and then it is

not to grieve, but to correct and amend.

The manner how speech serveth to the remembrance of the consequence of

causes and effects, consisteth in the imposing of _names_, and the

_connexion_ of them.

[Sidenote: Names, proper and common.]

Of names, some are _proper_, and singular to one only thing, as _Peter_,

_John_, _this man_, _this tree_; and some are _common_ to many things,

_man_, _horse_, _tree_; every of which, though but one name, is

nevertheless the name of divers particular things; [Sidenote:

Universal.] in respect of all which together, it is called an

_universal_; there being nothing in the world universal but names; for

the things named are every one of them individual and singular.

One universal name is imposed on many things, for their similitude in

some quality, or other accident; and whereas a proper name bringeth to

mind one thing only, universals recall any one of those many.

And of names universal, some are of more, and some of less extent; the

larger comprehending the less large; and some again of equal extent,

comprehending each other reciprocally. As for example: the name _body_

is of larger signification than the word _man_, and comprehendeth it;

and the names _man_ and _rational_, are of equal extent, comprehending

mutually one another. But here we must take notice, that by a name is

not always understood, as in grammar, one only word; but sometimes, by

circumlocution, many words together. For all these words, _he that in

his actions observeth the laws of his country_, make but one name,

equivalent to this one word, _just_.

By this imposition of names, some of larger, some of stricter

signification, we turn the reckoning of the consequences of things

imagined in the mind, into a reckoning of the consequences of

appellations. For example: a man that hath no use of speech at all, such

as is born and remains perfectly deaf and dumb, if he set before his

eyes a triangle, and by it two right angles, such as are the corners of

a square figure, he may, by meditation, compare and find, that the three

angles of that triangle, are equal to those two right angles that stand

by it. But if another triangle be shown him, different in shape from the

former, he cannot know, without a new labour, whether the three angles

of that also be equal to the same. But he that hath the use of words,

when he observes, that such equality was consequent, not to the length

of the sides, nor to any other particular thing in his triangle; but

only to this, that the sides were straight, and the angles three; and

that that was all, for which he named it a triangle; will boldly

conclude universally, that such equality of angles is in all triangles

whatsoever; and register his invention in these general terms, _every

triangle hath its three angles equal to two right angles_. And thus the

consequence found in one particular, comes to be registered and

remembered, as a universal rule, and discharges our mental reckoning, of

time and place, and delivers us from all labour of the mind, saving the

first, and makes that which was found true _here_, and _now_, to be true

in _all times_ and _places_.

But the use of words in registering our thoughts is in nothing so

evident as in numbering. A natural fool that could never learn by heart

the order of numeral words, as _one_, _two_, and _three_, may observe

every stroke of the clock, and nod to it, or say _one_, _one_, _one_,

but can never know what hour it strikes. And it seems, there was a time

when those names of number were not in use; and men were fain to apply

their fingers of one or both hands, to those things they desired to keep

account of; and that thence it proceeded, that now our numeral words are

but ten, in any nation, and in some but five; and then they begin again.

And he that can tell ten, if he recite them out of order, will lose

himself, and not know when he has done. Much less will he be able to

add, and subtract, and perform all other operations of arithmetic. So

that without words there is no possibility of reckoning of numbers; much

less of magnitudes, of swiftness, of force, and other things, the

reckonings whereof are necessary to the being, or well-being of mankind.

When two names are joined together into a consequence, or affirmation,

as thus, _a man is a living creature_; or thus, _if he be a man, he is a

living creature_; if the latter name, _living creature_, signify all

that the former name _man_ signifieth, then the affirmation, or

consequence, is _true_; otherwise _false_. For _true_ and _false_ are

attributes of speech, not of things. And where speech is not, there is

neither _truth_ nor _falsehood_; _error_ there may be, as when we expect

that which shall not be, or suspect what has not been; but in neither

case can a man be charged with untruth.

[Sidenote: Necessity of definitions.]

Seeing then that truth consisteth in the right ordering of names in our

affirmations, a man that seeketh precise truth had need to remember what

every name he uses stands for, and to place it accordingly, or else he

will find himself entangled in words, as a bird in lime twigs, the more

he struggles the more belimed. And therefore in geometry, which is the

only science that it hath pleased God hitherto to bestow on mankind, men

begin at settling the significations of their words; which settling of

significations they call _definitions_, and place them in the beginning

of their reckoning.

By this it appears how necessary it is for any man that aspires to true

knowledge, to examine the definitions of former authors; and either to

correct them, where they are negligently set down, or to make them

himself. For the errors of definitions multiply themselves according as

the reckoning proceeds, and lead men into absurdities, which at last

they see, but cannot avoid, without reckoning anew from the beginning,

in which lies the foundation of their errors. From whence it happens,

that they which trust to books do as they that cast up many little sums

into a greater, without considering whether those little sums were

rightly cast up or not; and at last finding the error visible, and not

mistrusting their first grounds, know not which way to clear themselves,

but spend time in fluttering over their books; as birds that entering by

the chimney, and finding themselves enclosed in a chamber, flutter at

the false light of a glass window, for want of wit to consider which way

they came in. So that in the right definition of names lies the first

use of speech; which is the acquisition of science: and in wrong, or no

definitions, lies the first abuse; from which proceed all false and

senseless tenets; which make those men that take their instruction from

the authority of books, and not from their own meditation, to be as much

below the condition of ignorant men, as men endued with true science are

above it. For between true science and erroneous doctrines, ignorance is

in the middle. Natural sense and imagination are not subject to

absurdity. Nature itself cannot err; and as men abound in copiousness of

language, so they become more wise, or more mad than ordinary. Nor is it

possible without letters for any man to become either excellently wise,

or, unless his memory be hurt by disease or ill constitution of organs,

excellently foolish. For words are wise men’s counters, they do but

reckon by them; but they are the money of fools, that value them by the

authority of an Aristotle, a Cicero, or a Thomas, or any other doctor

whatsoever, if but a man.

[Sidenote: Subject to names.]

_Subject to names_, is whatsoever can enter into or be considered in an

account, and be added one to another to make a sum, or subtracted one

from another and leave a remainder. The Latins called accounts of money

_rationes_, and accounting _ratiocinatio_; and that which we in bills or

books of account call _items_, they call _nomina_, that is _names_; and

thence it seems to proceed, that they extended the word _ratio_ to the

faculty of reckoning in all other things. The Greeks have but one word,

λόγος, for both _speech_ and _reason_; not that they thought there was

no speech without reason, but no reasoning without speech: and the act

of reasoning they called _syllogism_, which signifieth summing up of the

consequences of one saying to another. And because the same thing may

enter into account for divers accidents, their names are, to show that

diversity, diversly wrested and diversified. This diversity of names may

be reduced to four general heads.

[Sidenote: Names.]

First, a thing may enter into account for _matter_ or _body_; as

_living_, _sensible_, _rational_, _hot_, _cold_, _moved_, _quiet_; with

all which names the word _matter_, or _body_, is understood; all such

being names of matter.

Secondly, it may enter into account, or be considered, for some accident

or quality which we conceive to be in it; as for _being moved_, for

_being so long_, for _being hot_, &c.; and then, of the name of the

thing itself, by a little change or wresting, we make a name for that

accident, which we consider; and for _living_ put into the account

_life_; for _moved_, _motion_; for _hot_, _heat_; for _long_, _length_,

and the like: and all such names are the names of the accidents and

properties by which one matter and body is distinguished from another.

These are called _names abstract_, because severed, not from matter, but

from the account of matter.

Thirdly, we bring into account the properties of our own bodies, whereby

we make such distinction; as when anything is seen by us, we reckon not

the thing itself, but the sight, the colour, the idea of it in the

fancy: and when anything is heard, we reckon it not, but the hearing or

sound only, which is our fancy or conception of it by the ear; and such

are names of fancies.

[Sidenote: Use of names positive.]

Fourthly, we bring into account, consider, and give names, to _names_

themselves, and to _speeches_: for _general_, _universal_, _special_,

_equivocal_, are names of names. And _affirmation_, _interrogation_,

_commandment_, _narration_, _syllogism_, _sermon_, _oration_, and many

other such, are names of speeches. And this is all the variety of names

_positive_; which are put to mark somewhat which is in nature, or may be

feigned by the mind of man, as bodies that are, or may be conceived to

be; or of bodies, the properties that are, or may be feigned to be; or

words and speech.

[Sidenote: Negative names, with their uses.]

There be also other names, called _negative_, which are notes to signify

that a word is not the name of the thing in question; as these words,

_nothing_, _no man_, _infinite_, _indocible_, _three want four_, and the

like; which are nevertheless of use in reckoning, or in correcting of

reckoning, and call to mind our past cogitations, though they be not

names of any thing, because they make us refuse to admit of names not

rightly used.

[Sidenote: Words insignificant.]

All other names are but insignificant sounds; and those of two sorts.

One when they are new, and yet their meaning not explained by

definition; whereof there have been abundance coined by schoolmen, and

puzzled philosophers.

Another, when men make a name of two names, whose significations are

contradictory and inconsistent; as this name, an _incorporeal body_, or,

which is all one, an _incorporeal substance_, and a great number more.

For whensoever any affirmation is false, the two names of which it is

composed, put together and made one, signify nothing at all. For

example, if it be a false affirmation to say _a quadrangle is round_,

the word _round quadrangle_ signifies nothing, but is a mere sound. So

likewise, if it be false to say that virtue can be poured, or blown up

and down, the words _in-poured virtue_, _inblown virtue_, are as absurd

and insignificant as a _round quadrangle_. And therefore you shall

hardly meet with a senseless and insignificant word, that is not made up

of some Latin or Greek names. A Frenchman seldom hears our Saviour

called by the name of _parole_, but by the name of _verbe_ often; yet

_verbe_ and _parole_ differ no more, but that one is Latin, the other

French.

[Sidenote: Understanding.]

When a man, upon the hearing of any speech, hath those thoughts which

the words of that speech and their connexion were ordained and

constituted to signify, then he is said to understand it;

_understanding_ being nothing else but conception caused by speech. And

therefore if speech be peculiar to man, as for aught I know it is, then

is understanding peculiar to him also. And therefore of absurd and false

affirmations, in case they be universal, there can be no understanding;

though many think they understand then, when they do but repeat the

words softly, or con them in their mind.

What kinds of speeches signify the appetites, aversions, and passions of

man’s mind; and of their use and abuse, I shall speak when I have spoken

of the passions.

[Sidenote: Inconstant names.]

The names of such things as affect us, that is, which please and

displease us, because all men be not alike affected with the same thing,

nor the same man at all times, are in the common discourses of men of

_inconstant_ signification. For seeing all names are imposed to signify

our conceptions, and all our affections are but conceptions, when we

conceive the same things differently, we can hardly avoid different

naming of them. For though the nature of that we conceive, be the same;

yet the diversity of our reception of it, in respect of different

constitutions of body, and prejudices of opinion, gives every thing a

tincture of our different passions. And therefore in reasoning a man

must take heed of words; which besides the signification of what we

imagine of their nature, have a signification also of the nature,

disposition, and interest of the speaker; such as are the names of

virtues and vices; for one man calleth _wisdom_, what another calleth

_fear_; and one _cruelty_, what another _justice_; one _prodigality_,

what another _magnanimity_; and one _gravity_, what another _stupidity_,

&c. And therefore such names can never be true grounds of any

ratiocination. No more can metaphors, and tropes of speech; but these

are less dangerous, because they profess their inconstancy; which the

other do not.

-------

CHAPTER V.

OF REASON AND SCIENCE.

[Sidenote: Reason, what it is.]

When a man _reasoneth_, he does nothing else but conceive a sum total,

from _addition_ of parcels; or conceive a remainder, from _subtraction_

of one sum from another; which, if it be done by words, is conceiving of

the consequence of the names of all the parts, to the name of the whole;

or from the names of the whole and one part, to the name of the other

part. And though in some things, as in numbers, besides adding and

subtracting, men name other operations, as _multiplying_ and _dividing_,

yet they are the same; for multiplication, is but adding together of

things equal; and division, but subtracting of one thing, as often as we

can. These operations are not incident to numbers only, but to all

manner of things that can be added together, and taken one out of

another. For as arithmeticians teach to add and subtract in _numbers_;

so the geometricians teach the same in _lines_, _figures_, solid and

superficial, _angles_, _proportions_, _times_, degrees of _swiftness_,

_force_, _power_, and the like; the logicians teach the same in

_consequences of words_; adding together two _names_ to make an

_affirmation_, and two _affirmations_ to make a _syllogism_; and _many

syllogisms_ to make a _demonstration_; and from the _sum_, or

_conclusion_ of a _syllogism_, they subtract one _proposition_ to find

the other. Writers of politics add together _pactions_ to find men’s

_duties_; and lawyers, _laws_ and _facts_, to find what is _right_ and

_wrong_ in the actions of private men. In sum, in what matter soever

there is place for _addition_ and _subtraction_, there also is place for

_reason_; and where these have no place, there _reason_ has nothing at

all to do.

[Sidenote: Reason defined.]

Out of all which we may define, that is to say determine, what that is,

which is meant by this word _reason_, when we reckon it amongst the

faculties of the mind. For REASON, in this sense, is nothing but

_reckoning_, that is adding and subtracting, of the consequences of

general names agreed upon for the _marking_ and _signifying_ of our

thoughts; I say _marking_ them when we reckon by ourselves, and

_signifying_, when we demonstrate or approve our reckonings to other

men.

[Sidenote: Right reason, where.]

And, as in arithmetic, unpractised men must, and professors themselves

may often, err, and cast up false; so also in any other subject of

reasoning, the ablest, most attentive, and most practised men may

deceive themselves, and infer false conclusions; not but that reason

itself is always right reason, as well as arithmetic is a certain and

infallible art: but no one man’s reason, nor the reason of any one

number of men, makes the certainty; no more than an account is therefore

well cast up, because a great many men have unanimously approved it. And

therefore, as when there is a controversy in an account, the parties

must by their own accord, set up, for right reason, the reason of some

arbitrator, or judge, to whose sentence they will both stand, or their

controversy must either come to blows, or be undecided, for want of a

right reason constituted by nature; so is it also in all debates of what

kind soever. And when men that think themselves wiser than all others,

clamour and demand right reason for judge, yet seek no more, but that

things should be determined, by no other men’s reason but their own, it

is as intolerable in the society of men, as it is in play after trump is

turned, to use for trump on every occasion, that suite whereof they have

most in their hand. For they do nothing else, that will have every of

their passions, as it comes to bear sway in them, to be taken for right

reason, and that in their own controversies bewraying their want of

right reason, by the claim they lay to it.

[Sidenote: The use of reason.]

The use and end of reason, is not the finding of the sum and truth of

one, or a few consequences, remote from the first definitions, and

settled significations of names, but to begin at these, and proceed from

one consequence to another. For there can be no certainty of the last

conclusion, without a certainty of all those affirmations and negations,

on which it was grounded and inferred. As when a master of a family, in

taking an account, casteth up the sums of all the bills of expense into

one sum, and not regarding how each bill is summed up, by those that

give them in account; nor what it is he pays for; he advantages himself

no more, than if he allowed the account in gross, trusting to every of

the accountants’ skill and honesty: so also in reasoning of all other

things, he that takes up conclusions on the trust of authors, and doth

not fetch them from the first items in every reckoning, which are the

significations of names settled by definitions, loses his labour; and

does not know anything, but only believeth.

[Sidenote: Of error and absurdity.]

When a man reckons without the use of words, which may be done in

particular things, as when upon the sight of any one thing, we

conjecture what was likely to have preceded, or is likely to follow upon

it; if that which he thought likely to follow, follows not, or that

which he thought likely to have preceded it, hath not preceded it, this

is called _error_; to which even the most prudent men are subject. But

when we reason in words of general signification, and fall upon a

general inference which is false, though it be commonly called _error_,

it is indeed an _absurdity_, or senseless speech. For error is but a

deception, in presuming that somewhat is past, or to come; of which,

though it were not past, or not to come, yet there was no impossibility

discoverable. But when we make a general assertion, unless it be a true

one, the possibility of it is inconceivable. And words whereby we

conceive nothing but the sound, are those we call _absurd_,

_insignificant_, and _nonsense_. And therefore if a man should talk to

me of a _round quadrangle_; or, _accidents of bread in cheese_; or,

_immaterial substances_; or of _a free subject_; _a free will_; or any

_free_, but free from being hindered by opposition, I should not say he

were in an error, but that his words were without meaning, that is to

say, absurd.

I have said before, in the second chapter, that a man did excel all

other animals in this faculty, that when he conceived any thing

whatsoever, he was apt to inquire the consequences of it, and what

effects he could do with it. And now I add this other degree of the same

excellence, that he can by words reduce the consequences he finds to

general rules, called _theorems_, or _aphorisms_; that is, he can

reason, or reckon, not only in number, but in all other things, whereof

one may be added unto, or subtracted from another.

But this privilege is allayed by another; and that is, by the privilege

of absurdity; to which no living creature is subject, but man only. And

of men, those are of all most subject to it, that profess philosophy.

For it is most true that Cicero saith of them somewhere; that there can

be nothing so absurd, but may be found in the books of philosophers. And

the reason is manifest. For there is not one of them that begins his

ratiocination from the definitions, or explications of the names they

are to use; which is a method that hath been used only in geometry;

whose conclusions have thereby been made indisputable.

[Sidenote: Causes of absurdity.]

I. The first cause of absurd conclusions I ascribe to the want of

method; in that they begin not their ratiocination from definitions;

that is, from settled significations of their words: as if they could

cast account, without knowing the value of the numeral words, _one_,

_two_, and _three_. And whereas all bodies enter into account upon

divers considerations, which I have mentioned in the precedent chapter;

these considerations being diversely named, divers absurdities proceed

from the confusion, and unfit connexion of their names into assertions.

And therefore,

II. The second cause of absurd assertions, I ascribe to the giving of

names of _bodies_ to _accidents_; or of _accidents_ to _bodies_; as they

do, that say, _faith is infused_, or _inspired_; when nothing can be

_poured_, or _breathed_ into anything, but body; and that, _extension_

is _body_; that _phantasms_ are _spirits_, &c.

III. The third I ascribe to the giving of the names of the _accidents_

of _bodies without us_, to the _accidents_ of our _own bodies_; as they

do that say, the _colour is in the body_; _the sound is in the air_, &c.

IV. The fourth, to the giving of the names of _bodies_ to _names_, or

_speeches_; as they do that say, that _there be things universal_; that

_a living creature is genus_, or _a general thing_, &c.

V. The fifth, to the giving of the names of _accidents_ to _names_ and

_speeches_; as they do that say, _the nature of a thing is its

definition_; _a man’s command is his will_; and the like.

VI. The sixth, to the use of metaphors, tropes, and other rhetorical

figures, instead of words proper. For though it be lawful to say, for

example, in common speech, _the way goeth, or leadeth hither, or

thither_; _the proverb says this or that_, whereas ways cannot go, nor

proverbs speak; yet in reckoning, and seeking of truth, such speeches

are not to be admitted.

VII. The seventh, to names that signify nothing; but are taken up, and

learned by rote from the schools, as _hypostatical_, _transubstantiate_,

_consubstantiate_, _eternal-now_, and the like canting of schoolmen.

To him that can avoid these things it is not easy to fall into any

absurdity, unless it be by the length of an account; wherein he may

perhaps forget what went before. For all men by nature reason alike, and

well, when they have good principles. For who is so stupid, as both to

mistake in geometry, and also to persist in it, when another detects his

error to him?

[Sidenote: Science.]

By this it appears that reason is not, as sense and memory, born with

us; nor gotten by experience only, as prudence is; but attained by

industry; first in apt imposing of names; and secondly by getting a good

and orderly method in proceeding from the elements, which are names, to

assertions made by connexion of one of them to another; and so to

syllogisms, which are the connexions of one assertion to another, till

we come to a knowledge of all the consequences of names appertaining to

the subject in hand; and that is it, men call SCIENCE. And whereas sense

and memory are but knowledge of fact, which is a thing past and

irrevocable. _Science_ is the knowledge of consequences, and dependance

of one fact upon another: by which, out of that we can presently do, we

know how to do something else when we will, or the like another time;

because when we see how any thing comes about, upon what causes, and by

what manner; when the like causes come into our power, we see how to

make it produce the like effects.

Children therefore are not endued with reason at all, till they have

attained the use of speech; but are called reasonable creatures, for the

possibility apparent of having the use of reason in time to come. And

the most part of men, though they have the use of reasoning a little

way, as in numbering to some degree; yet it serves them to little use in

common life; in which they govern themselves, some better, some worse,

according to their differences of experience, quickness of memory, and

inclinations to several ends; but specially according to good or evil

fortune, and the errors of one another. For as for _science_, or certain

rules of their actions, they are so far from it, that they know not what

it is. Geometry they have thought conjuring: but for other sciences,

they who have not been taught the beginnings and some progress in them,

that they may see how they be acquired and generated, are in this point

like children, that having no thought of generation, are made believe by

the women that their brothers and sisters are not born, but found in the

garden.

But yet they that have no _science_, are in better, and nobler

condition, with their natural prudence; than men, that by mis-reasoning,

or by trusting them that reason wrong, fall upon false and absurd

general rules. For ignorance of causes, and of rules, does not set men

so far out of their way, as relying on false rules, and taking for

causes of what they aspire to, those that are not so, but rather causes

of the contrary.

To conclude, the light of human minds is perspicuous words, but by exact

definitions first snuffed, and purged from ambiguity; _reason_ is the

_pace_; increase of _science_, the _way_; and the benefit of mankind,

the _end_. And, on the contrary, metaphors, and senseless and ambiguous

words, are like _ignes fatui_; and reasoning upon them is wandering

amongst innumerable absurdities; and their end, contention and sedition,

or contempt.

[Sidenote: Prudence and sapience, with their difference.]

As much experience, is _prudence_; so, is much science _sapience_. For

though we usually have one name of wisdom for them both, yet the Latins

did always distinguish between _prudentia_ and _sapientia_; ascribing

the former to experience, the latter to science. But to make their

difference appear more clearly, let us suppose one man endued with an

excellent natural use and dexterity in handling his arms; and another to

have added to that dexterity, an acquired science, of where he can

offend, or be offended by his adversary, in every possible posture or

guard: the ability of the former, would be to the ability of the latter,

as prudence to sapience; both useful; but the latter infallible. But

they that trusting only to the authority of books, follow the blind

blindly, are like him that, trusting to the false rules of a master of

fence, ventures presumptuously upon an adversary, that either kills or

disgraces him.

[Sidenote: Signs of science.]

The signs of science are some, certain and infallible; some, uncertain.

Certain, when he that pretendeth the science of any thing, can teach the

same; that is to say, demonstrate the truth thereof perspicuously to

another; uncertain, when only some particular events answer to his

pretence, and upon many occasions prove so as he says they must. Signs

of prudence are all uncertain; because to observe by experience, and

remember all circumstances that may alter the success, is impossible.

But in any business, whereof a man has not infallible science to proceed

by; to forsake his own natural judgment, and be guided by general

sentences read in authors, and subject to many exceptions, is a sign of

folly, and generally scorned by the name of pedantry. And even of those

men themselves, that in councils of the commonwealth love to show their

reading of politics and history, very few do it in their domestic

affairs, where their particular interest is concerned; having prudence

enough for their private affairs: but in public they study more the

reputation of their own wit, than the success of another’s business.

-------

CHAPTER VI.

OF THE INTERIOR BEGINNINGS OF VOLUNTARY MOTIONS; COMMONLY CALLED THE

PASSIONS; AND THE SPEECHES BY WHICH THEY ARE EXPRESSED.

[Sidenote: Motion, vital and animal.]

There be in animals, two sorts of _motions_ peculiar to them: one called

_vital_; begun in generation, and continued without interruption through

their whole life; such as are the _course_ of the _blood_, the _pulse_,

the _breathing_, the _concoction_, _nutrition_, _excretion_, &c. to

which motions there needs no help of imagination: the other is _animal

motion_, otherwise called _voluntary motion_; as to _go_, to _speak_, to

_move_ any of our limbs, in such manner as is first fancied in our

minds. That sense is motion in the organs and interior parts of man’s

body, caused by the action of the things we see, hear, &c.; and that

fancy is but the relics of the same motion, remaining after sense, has

been already said in the first and second chapters. And because _going_,

_speaking_, and the like voluntary motions, depend always upon a

precedent thought of _whither_, _which way_, and _what_; it is evident,

that the imagination is the first internal beginning of all voluntary

motion. And although unstudied men do not conceive any motion at all to

be there, where the thing moved is invisible; or the space it is moved

in is, for the shortness of it, insensible; yet that doth not hinder,

but that such motions are. For let a space be never so little, that

which is moved over a greater space, whereof that little one is part,

must first be moved over that. [Sidenote: Endeavour.] These small

beginnings of motion, within the body of man, before they appear in

walking, speaking, striking, and other visible actions, are commonly

called ENDEAVOUR.

[Sidenote: Appetite. Desire.]

This endeavour, when it is toward something which causes it, is called

APPETITE, or DESIRE; the latter, being the general name; [Sidenote:

Hunger. Thirst.] and the other oftentimes restrained to signify the

desire of food, namely _hunger_ and _thirst_. [Sidenote: Aversion.] And

when the endeavour is fromward something, it is generally called

AVERSION. These words, _appetite_ and _aversion_, we have from the

Latins; and they both of them signify the motions, one of approaching,

the other of retiring. So also do the Greek words for the same, which

are ὁρμὴ and ἀφορμὴ. For nature itself does often press upon men those

truths, which afterwards, when they look for somewhat beyond nature,

they stumble at. For the Schools find in mere appetite to go, or move,

no actual motion at all: but because some motion they must acknowledge,

they call it metaphorical motion; which is but an absurd speech: for

though words may be called metaphorical; bodies and motions can not.

[Sidenote: Love. Hate.]

That which men desire, they are also said to LOVE: and to HATE those

things for which they have aversion. So that desire and love are the

same thing; save that by desire, we always signify the absence of the

object; by love, most commonly the presence of the same. So also by

aversion, we signify the absence; and by hate, the presence of the

object.

Of appetites and aversions, some are born with men; as appetite of food,

appetite of excretion, and exoneration, which may also and more properly

be called aversions, from somewhat they feel in their bodies; and some

other appetites, not many. The rest, which are appetites of particular

things, proceed from experience, and trial of their effects upon

themselves or other men. For of things we know not at all, or believe

not to be, we can have no further desire, than to taste and try. But

aversion we have for things, not only which we know have hurt us, but

also that we do not know whether they will hurt us, or not.

[Sidenote: Contempt.]

Those things which we neither desire, nor hate, we are said to

_contemn_; CONTEMPT being nothing else but an immobility, or contumacy

of the heart, in resisting the action of certain things; and proceeding

from that the heart is already moved otherwise, by other more potent

objects; or from want of experience of them.

And because the constitution of a man’s body is in continual mutation,

it is impossible that all the same things should always cause in him the

same appetites, and aversions: much less can all men consent, in the

desire of almost any one and the same object.

[Sidenote: Good.]

But whatsoever is the object of any man’s appetite or desire, that is it

which he for his part calleth _good_: [Sidenote: Evil.] and the object

of his hate and aversion, _evil_; and of his contempt, _vile_ and

_inconsiderable_. For these words of good, evil, and contemptible, are

ever used with relation to the person that useth them: there being

nothing simply and absolutely so; nor any common rule of good and evil,

to be taken from the nature of the objects themselves; but from the

person of the man, where there is no commonwealth; or, in a

commonwealth, from the person that representeth it; or from an

arbitrator or judge, whom men disagreeing shall by consent set up, and

make his sentence the rule thereof.

[Sidenote: Pulchrum.]

[Sidenote: Turpe.]

The Latin tongue has two words, whose significations approach to those

of good and evil; but are not precisely the same; and those are

_pulchrum_ and _turpe_. Whereof the former signifies that, which by some

apparent signs promiseth good; and the latter, that which promiseth

evil. But in our tongue we have not so general names to express them by.

But for _pulchrum_ we say in some things, _fair_; in others,

_beautiful_, or _handsome_, or _gallant_, or _honourable_, or _comely_,

or _amiable_; and for _turpe_, _foul_, _deformed_, _ugly_, _base_,

_nauseous_, and the like, as the subject shall require; all which words,

in their proper places, signify nothing else but the _mien_, or

countenance, that promiseth good and evil. So that of good there be

three kinds; good in the promise, that is _pulchrum_; good in effect, as

the end desired, which is called _jucundum_, [Sidenote: Delightful.

Profitable. Unpleasant. Unprofitable.] _delightful_; and good as the

means, which is called _utile_, _profitable_; and as many of evil: for

_evil_ in promise, is that they call _turpe_; evil in effect, and end,

is _molestum_, _unpleasant_, _troublesome_; and evil in the means,

_inutile_, _unprofitable_, _hurtful_.

[Sidenote: Delight. Displeasure.]

As, in sense, that which is really within us, is, as I have said before,

only motion, caused by the action of external objects, but in apparence;

to the sight, light and colour; to the ear, sound; to the nostril,

odour, &c.: so, when the action of the same object is continued from the

eyes, ears, and other organs to the heart, the real effect there is

nothing but motion, or endeavour; which consisteth in appetite, or

aversion, to or from the object moving. But the apparence, or sense of

that motion, is that we either call _delight_, or _trouble of mind_.

[Sidenote: Pleasure.]

This motion, which is called appetite, and for the apparence of it

_delight_, and _pleasure_, seemeth to be a corroboration of vital

motion, and a help thereunto; and therefore such things as caused

delight, were not improperly called _jucunda_, _à juvando_, from helping

or fortifying; [Sidenote: Offence.] and the contrary, _molesta_,

_offensive_, from hindering, and troubling the motion vital.

_Pleasure_ therefore, or _delight_, is the apparence, or sense of good;

and _molestation_, or _displeasure_, the apparence, or sense of evil.

And consequently all appetite, desire, and love, is accompanied with

some delight more or less; and all hatred and aversion, with more or

less displeasure and offence.

[Sidenote: Pleasures of sense.]

Of pleasures or delights, some arise from the sense of an object

present; and those may be called _pleasure of sense_; the word

_sensual_, as it is used by those only that condemn them, having no

place till there be laws. Of this kind are all onerations and

exonerations of the body; as also all that is pleasant, in the _sight_,

_hearing_, _smell_, _taste_, or _touch_. Others arise from the

expectation, that proceeds from foresight of the end, or consequence of

things; whether those things in the sense please or displease.

[Sidenote: Pleasures of the mind.] And these are _pleasures of the mind_

of him that draweth those consequences, [Sidenote: Joy.] and are

generally called JOY. In the like manner, displeasures are some in the

sense, [Sidenote: Pain.] and called PAIN; others in the expectation of

consequences, [Sidenote: Grief.] and are called GRIEF.

These simple passions called _appetite_, _desire_, _love_, _aversion_,

_hate_, _joy_, and _grief_, have their names for divers considerations

diversified. As first, when they one succeed another, they are diversely

called from the opinion men have of the likelihood of attaining what

they desire. Secondly, from the object loved or hated. Thirdly, from the

consideration of many of them together. Fourthly, from the alteration or

succession itself.

[Sidenote: Hope.]

For _appetite_, with an opinion of attaining, is called HOPE.

[Sidenote: Despair.]

The same, without such opinion, DESPAIR.

[Sidenote: Fear.]

_Aversion_, with opinion of HURT from the object, FEAR.

[Sidenote: Courage.]

The same, with hope of avoiding that hurt by resistance, COURAGE.

[Sidenote: Anger.]

Sudden _courage_, ANGER.

[Sidenote: Confidence.]

Constant _hope_, CONFIDENCE of ourselves.

[Sidenote: Diffidence.]

Constant _despair_, DIFFIDENCE of ourselves.

[Sidenote: Indignation.]

_Anger_ for great hurt done to another, when we conceive the same to be

done by injury, INDIGNATION.

[Sidenote: Benevolence.]

_Desire_ of good to another, BENEVOLENCE, GOOD WILL, CHARITY. [Sidenote:

Good nature.] If to man generally, GOOD NATURE.

[Sidenote: Covetousness.]

_Desire_ of riches, COVETOUSNESS; a name used always in signification of

blame; because men contending for them, are displeased with one another

attaining them; though the desire in itself, be to be blamed, or

allowed, according to the means by which these riches are sought.

[Sidenote: Ambition.]

_Desire_ of office, or precedence, AMBITION: a name used also in the

worse sense, for the reason before mentioned.

[Sidenote: Pusillanimity.]

_Desire_ of things that conduce but a little to our ends, and fear of

things that are but of little hindrance, PUSILLANIMITY.

[Sidenote: Magnanimity.]

_Contempt_ of little helps and hindrances, MAGNANIMITY.

[Sidenote: Valour.]

_Magnanimity_, in danger of death or wounds, VALOUR, FORTITUDE.

[Sidenote: Liberality.]

_Magnanimity_ in the use of riches, LIBERALITY.

[Sidenote: Miserableness.]

_Pusillanimity_ in the same, WRETCHEDNESS, MISERABLENESS, or PARSIMONY;

as it is liked or disliked.

[Sidenote: Kindness.]

_Love_ of persons for society, KINDNESS.

[Sidenote: Natural lust.]

_Love_ of persons for pleasing the sense only, NATURAL LUST.

[Sidenote: Luxury.]

_Love_ of the same, acquired from rumination, that is, imagination of

pleasure past, LUXURY.

[Sidenote: The passion of love.]

[Sidenote: Jealousy.]

_Love_ of one singularly, with desire to be singularly beloved, THE

PASSION OF LOVE. The same, with fear that the love is not mutual,

JEALOUSY.

[Sidenote: Revengefulness.]

_Desire_, by doing hurt to another, to make him condemn some fact of his

own, REVENGEFULNESS.

[Sidenote: Curiosity.]

_Desire_ to know why, and how, CURIOSITY; such as is in no living

creature but _man_: so that man is distinguished, not only by his

reason, but also by this singular passion from other _animals_; in whom

the appetite of food, and other pleasures of sense, by predominance,

take away the care of knowing causes; which is a lust of the mind, that

by a perseverance of delight in the continual and indefatigable

generation of knowledge, exceedeth the short vehemence of any carnal

pleasure.

[Sidenote: Religion.]

[Sidenote: Superstition.]

[Sidenote: True religion.]

_Fear_ of power invisible, feigned by the mind, or imagined from tales

publicly allowed, RELIGION; not allowed, SUPERSTITION. And when the

power imagined, is truly such as we imagine, TRUE RELIGION.

[Sidenote: Panic terror.]

_Fear_, without the apprehension of why, or what, PANIC TERROR, called

so from the fables, that make Pan the author of them; whereas, in truth,

there is always in him that so feareth, first, some apprehension of the

cause, though the rest run away by example, every one supposing his

fellow to know why. And therefore this passion happens to none but in a

throng, or multitude of people.

[Sidenote: Admiration.]

_Joy_, from apprehension of novelty, ADMIRATION; proper to man, because

it excites the appetite of knowing the cause.

[Sidenote: Glory.]

_Joy_, arising from imagination of a man’s own power and ability, is

that exultation of the mind which is called GLORYING: which if grounded

upon the experience of his own former actions, is the same with

_confidence_: [Sidenote: Vain-glory.] but if grounded on the flattery of

others; or only supposed by himself, for delight in the consequences of

it, is called VAIN-GLORY: which name is properly given; because a well

grounded _confidence_ begetteth attempt; whereas the supposing of power

does not, and is therefore rightly called _vain_.

[Sidenote: Dejection.]

_Grief_, from opinion of want of power, is called DEJECTION of mind.

The _vain-glory_ which consisteth in the feigning or supposing of

abilities in ourselves, which we know are not, is most incident to young

men, and nourished by the histories, or fictions of gallant persons; and

is corrected oftentimes by age, and employment.

[Sidenote: Sudden glory.]

[Sidenote: Laughter.]

_Sudden glory_, is the passion which maketh those _grimaces_ called

LAUGHTER; and is caused either by some sudden act of their own, that

pleaseth them; or by the apprehension of some deformed thing in another,

by comparison whereof they suddenly applaud themselves. And it is

incident most to them, that are conscious of the fewest abilities in

themselves; who are forced to keep themselves in their own favour, by

observing the imperfections of other men. And therefore much laughter at

the defects of others, is a sign of pusillanimity. For of great minds,

one of the proper works is, to help and free others from scorn; and

compare themselves only with the most able.

[Sidenote: Sudden dejection.]

[Sidenote: Weeping.]

On the contrary, _sudden dejection_, is the passion that causeth

WEEPING; and is caused by such accidents, as suddenly take away some

vehement hope, or some prop of their power: and they are most subject to

it, that rely principally on helps external, such as are women, and

children. Therefore some weep for the loss of friends; others for their

unkindness; others for the sudden stop made to their thoughts of

revenge, by reconciliation. But in all cases, both laughter, and

weeping, are sudden motions; custom taking them both away. For no man

laughs at old jests; or weeps for an old calamity.

[Sidenote: Shame.

Blushing.]

_Grief_, for the discovery of some defect of ability, is SHAME, or the

passion that discovereth itself in BLUSHING; and consisteth in the

apprehension of some thing dishonourable; and in young men, is a sign of

the love of good reputation, and commendable: in old men it is a sign of

the same; but because it comes too late, not commendable.

[Sidenote: Impudence.]

The _contempt_ of good reputation is called IMPUDENCE.

[Sidenote: Pity.]

_Grief_, for the calamity of another, is PITY; and ariseth from the

imagination that the like calamity may befall himself; and therefore is

called also COMPASSION, and in the phrase of this present time a

FELLOW-FEELING: and therefore for calamity arriving from great

wickedness, the best men have the least pity; and for the same calamity,

those hate pity, that think themselves least obnoxious to the same.

[Sidenote: Cruelty.]

_Contempt_, or little sense of the calamity of others, is that which men

call CRUELTY; proceeding from security of their own fortune. For, that

any man should take pleasure in other men’s great harms; without other

end of his own, I do not conceive it possible.

[Sidenote: Emulation.]

[Sidenote: Envy.]

_Grief_, for the success of a competitor in wealth, honour, or other

good, if it be joined with endeavour to enforce our own abilities to

equal or exceed him, is called EMULATION: but joined with endeavour to

supplant, or hinder a competitor, ENVY.

[Sidenote: Deliberation.]

When in the mind of man, appetites, and aversions, hopes, and fears,

concerning one and the same thing, arise alternately; and divers good

and evil consequences of the doing, or omitting the thing propounded,

come successively into our thoughts; so that sometimes we have an

appetite to it; sometimes an aversion from it; sometimes hope to be able

to do it; sometimes despair, or fear to attempt it; the whole sum of

desires, aversions, hopes and fears continued till the thing be either

done, or thought impossible, is that we call DELIBERATION.

Therefore of things past, there is no _deliberation_; because manifestly

impossible to be changed: nor of things known to be impossible, or

thought so; because men know, or think such deliberation vain. But of

things impossible, which we think possible, we may deliberate; not

knowing it is in vain. And it is called _deliberation_; because it is a

putting an end to the _liberty_ we had of doing, or omitting, according

to our own appetite, or aversion.

This alternate succession of appetites, aversions, hopes and fears, is

no less in other living creatures than in man: and therefore beasts also

deliberate.

Every _deliberation_ is then said to _end_, when that whereof they

deliberate, is either done, or thought impossible; because till then we

retain the liberty of doing, or omitting; according to our appetite, or

aversion.

[Sidenote: The will.]

In _deliberation_, the last appetite, or aversion, immediately adhering

to the action, or to the omission thereof, is that we call the WILL; the

act, not the faculty, of _willing_. And beasts that have _deliberation_,

must necessarily also have _will_. The definition of the _will_, given

commonly by the Schools, that it is a _rational appetite_, is not good.

For if it were, then could there be no voluntary act against reason. For

a _voluntary act_ is that, which proceedeth from the _will_, and no

other. But if instead of a rational appetite, we shall say an appetite

resulting from a precedent deliberation, then the definition is the same

that I have given here. _Will_ therefore _is the last appetite in

deliberating_. And though we say in common discourse, a man had a will

once to do a thing, that nevertheless he forbore to do; yet that is

properly but an inclination, which makes no action voluntary; because

the action depends not of it, but of the last inclination, or appetite.

For if the intervenient appetites, make any action voluntary; then by

the same reason all intervenient aversions, should make the same action

involuntary; and so one and the same action, should be both voluntary

and involuntary.

By this it is manifest, that not only actions that have their beginning

from covetousness, ambition, lust, or other appetites to the thing

propounded; but also those that have their beginning from aversion, or

fear of those consequences that follow the omission, are _voluntary

actions_.

[Sidenote: Forms of speech, in passion.]

The forms of speech by which the passions are expressed, are partly the

same, and partly different from those, by which we express our thoughts.

And first, generally all passions may be expressed _indicatively_; as _I

love_, _I fear_, _I joy_, _I deliberate_, _I will_, _I command_: but

some of them have particular expressions by themselves, which

nevertheless are not affirmations, unless it be when they serve to make

other inferences, besides that of the passion they proceed from.

Deliberation is expressed _subjunctively_; which is a speech proper to

signify suppositions, with their consequences; as, _if this be done,

then this will follow_; and differs not from the language of reasoning,

save that reasoning is in general words; but deliberation for the most

part is of particulars. The language of desire, and aversion, is

_imperative_; as _do this_, _forbear that_; which when the party is

obliged to do, or forbear, is _command_; otherwise _prayer_; or else

_counsel_. The language of vain-glory, of indignation, pity and

revengefulness, _optative_: but of the desire to know, there is a

peculiar expression, called _interrogative_; as, _what is it_, _when

shall it_, _how is it done_, and _why so?_ other language of the

passions I find none: for cursing, swearing, reviling, and the like, do

not signify as speech; but as the actions of a tongue accustomed.

These forms of speech, I say, are expressions, or voluntary

significations of our passions: but certain signs they be not; because

they may be used arbitrarily, whether they that use them, have such

passions or not. The best signs of passions present, are either in the

countenance, motions of the body, actions, and ends, or aims, which we

otherwise know the man to have.

[Sidenote: Good and evil apparent.]

And because in deliberation, the appetites, and aversions, are raised by

foresight of the good and evil consequences, and sequels of the action

whereof we deliberate; the good or evil effect thereof dependeth on the

foresight of a long chain of consequences, of which very seldom any man

is able to see to the end. But for so far as a man seeth, if the good in

those consequences be greater than the evil, the whole chain is that

which writers call _apparent_, or _seeming good_. And contrarily, when

the evil exceedeth the good, the whole is _apparent_, or _seeming evil_:

so that he who hath by experience, or reason, the greatest and surest

prospect of consequences, deliberates best himself; and is able when he

will, to give the best counsel unto others.

[Sidenote: Felicity.]

_Continual success_ in obtaining those things which a man from time to

time desireth, that is to say, continual prospering, is that men call

FELICITY; I mean the felicity of this life. For there is no such thing

as perpetual tranquillity of mind, while we live here; because life

itself is but motion, and can never be without desire, nor without fear,

no more than without sense. What kind of felicity God hath ordained to

them that devoutly honour Him, a man shall no sooner know, than enjoy;

being joys, that now are as incomprehensible, as the word of school-men

_beatifical vision_ is unintelligible.

[Sidenote: Praise.]

The form of speech whereby men signify their opinion of the goodness of

any thing, is PRAISE. [Sidenote: Magnification.] That whereby they

signify the power and greatness of any thing, is MAGNIFYING. [Sidenote:

Μακαρισμός.] And that whereby they signify the opinion they have of a

man’s felicity, is by the Greeks called Μακαρισμός, for which we have no

name in our tongue. And thus much is sufficient for the present purpose,

to have been said of the PASSIONS.

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CHAPTER VII.

OF THE ENDS, OR RESOLUTIONS OF DISCOURSE.

Of all _discourse_, governed by desire of knowledge, there is at last an

_end_, either by attaining, or by giving over. And in the chain of

discourse, wheresoever it be interrupted, there is an end for that time.

If the discourse be merely mental, it consisteth of thoughts that the

thing will be, and will not be; or that it has been, and has not been,

alternately. So that wheresoever you break off the chain of a man’s

discourse, you leave him in a presumption of _it will be_, or, _it will

not be_; or, _it has been_, or, _has not been_. All which is _opinion_.

And that which is alternate appetite, in deliberating concerning good

and evil; the same is alternate opinion, in the enquiry of the truth of

_past_, and _future_. [Sidenote: Judgment, or sentence final.] And as

the last appetite in deliberation, is called the _will_; so the last

opinion in search of the truth of past, and future, is called the

JUDGMENT, or _resolute_ and _final sentence_ of him that _discourseth_.

And as the whole chain of appetites alternate, in the question of good,

or bad, is called _deliberation_; [Sidenote: Doubt.] so the whole chain

of opinions alternate, in the question of true, or false, is called

DOUBT.

No discourse whatsoever, can end in absolute knowledge of fact, past, or

to come. For, as for the knowledge of fact, it is originally, sense; and

ever after, memory. And for the knowledge of consequence, which I have

said before is called science, it is not absolute, but conditional. No

man can know by discourse, that this, or that, is, has been, or will be;

which is to know absolutely: but only, that if this be, that is; if this

has been, that has been; if this shall be, that shall be: which is to

know conditionally; and that not the consequence of one thing to

another; but of one name of a thing, to another name of the same thing.

[Sidenote: Science.]

And therefore, when the discourse is put into speech, and begins with

the definitions of words, and proceeds by connexion of the same into

general affirmations, and of these again into syllogisms; the end or

last sum is called the conclusion; and the thought of the mind by it

signified, is that conditional knowledge, or knowledge of the

consequence of words, which is commonly called SCIENCE. [Sidenote:

Opinion.] But if the first ground of such discourse, be not definitions;

or if the definitions be not rightly joined together into syllogisms,

then the end or conclusion, is again OPINION, namely of the truth of

somewhat said, though sometimes in absurd and senseless words, without

possibility of being understood. [Sidenote: Conscious.] When two, or

more men, know of one and the same fact, they are said to be CONSCIOUS

of it one to another; which is as much as to know it together. And

because such are fittest witnesses of the facts of one another, or of a

third; it was, and ever will be reputed a very evil act, for any man to

speak against his _conscience_: or to corrupt or force another so to do:

insomuch that the plea of conscience, has been always hearkened unto

very diligently in all times. Afterwards, men made use of the same word

metaphorically, for the knowledge of their own secret facts, and secret

thoughts; and therefore it is rhetorically said, that the conscience is

a thousand witnesses. And last of all, men, vehemently in love with

their own new opinions, though never so absurd, and obstinately bent to

maintain them, gave those their opinions also that reverenced name of

conscience, as if they would have it seem unlawful, to change or speak

against them; and so pretend to know they are true, when they know at

most, but that they think so.

When a man’s discourse beginneth not at definitions, it beginneth either

at some other contemplation of his own, and then it is still called

opinion; or it beginneth at some saying of another, of whose ability to

know the truth, and of whose honesty in not deceiving, he doubteth not;

and then the discourse is not so much concerning the thing, as the

person; [Sidenote: Belief. Faith.] and the resolution is called BELIEF,

and FAITH: _faith_, _in_ the man; _belief_, both _of_ the man, and _of_

the truth of what he says. So that in belief are two opinions; one of

the saying of the man; the other of his virtue. To _have faith in_, or

_trust to_, or _believe a man_, signify the same thing; namely, an

opinion of the veracity of the man: but to _believe what is said_,

signifieth only an opinion of the truth of the saying. But we are to

observe that this phrase, _I believe in_; as also the Latin, _credo in_;

and the Greek, πιστέυω ἐις, are never used but in the writings of

divines. Instead of them, in other writings are put, _I believe him_; _I

trust him_; _I have faith in him_; _I rely on him_: and in Latin, _credo

illi_: _fido illi_: and in Greek, πιστέυω αὐτω: and that this

singularity of the ecclesiastic use of the word hath raised many

disputes about the right object of the Christian faith.

But by _believing in_, as it is in the creed, is meant, not trust in the

person; but confession and acknowledgment of the doctrine. For not only

Christians, but all manner of men do so believe in God, as to hold all

for truth they hear him say, whether they understand it, or not; which

is all the faith and trust can possibly be had in any person whatsoever:

but they do not all believe the doctrine of the creed.

From whence we may infer, that when we believe any saying whatsoever it

be, to be true, from arguments taken, not from the thing itself, or from

the principles of natural reason, but from the authority, and good

opinion we have, of him that hath said it; then is the speaker, or

person we believe in, or trust in, and whose word we take, the object of

our faith; and the honour done in believing, is done to him only. And

consequently, when we believe that the Scriptures are the word of God,

having no immediate revelation from God himself, our belief, faith, and

trust is in the church; whose word we take, and acquiesce therein. And

they that believe that which a prophet relates unto them in the name of

God, take the word of the prophet, do honour to him, and in him trust,

and believe, touching the truth of what he relateth, whether he be a

true, or a false prophet. And so it is also with all other history. For

if I should not believe all that is written by historians, of the

glorious acts of _Alexander_, or _Cæsar_; I do not think the ghost of

_Alexander_, or _Cæsar_, had any just cause to be offended; or any body

else, but the historian. If _Livy_ say the Gods made once a cow speak,

and we believe it not; we distrust not God therein, but _Livy_. So that

it is evident, that whatsoever we believe, upon no other reason, than

what is drawn from authority of men only, and their writings; whether

they be sent from God or not, is faith in men only.

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CHAPTER VIII.

OF THE VIRTUES COMMONLY CALLED INTELLECTUAL;

AND THEIR CONTRARY DEFECTS.

[Sidenote: Intellectual virtue defined.]

VIRTUE generally, in all sorts of subjects, is somewhat that is valued

for eminence; and consisteth in comparison. For if all things were equal

in all men, nothing would be prized. And by _virtues intellectual_, are

always understood such abilities of the mind, as men praise, value, and

desire should be in themselves; and go commonly under the name of a

_good wit_; though the same word _wit_, be used also, to distinguish one

certain ability from the rest.

[Sidenote: Wit, natural, or acquired.]

These _virtues_ are of two sorts; _natural_, and _acquired_. By natural,

I mean not, that which a man hath from his birth: for that is nothing

else but sense; wherein men differ so little one from another, and from

brute beasts, as it is not to be reckoned amongst virtues. [Sidenote:

Natural wit.] But I mean, that _wit_, which is gotten by use only, and

experience; without method, culture, or instruction. This NATURAL WIT,

consisteth principally in two things; _celerity of imagining_, that is,

swift succession of one thought to another; and _steady direction_ to

some approved end. On the contrary a slow imagination, maketh that

defect, or fault of the mind, which is commonly called DULLNESS,

_stupidity_, and sometimes by other names that signify slowness of

motion, or difficulty to be moved.

[Sidenote: Good wit, or fancy.]

And this difference of quickness, is caused by the difference of men’s

passions; that love and dislike, some one thing, some another: and

therefore some men’s thoughts run one way, some another; and are held

to, and observe differently the things that pass through their

imagination. And whereas in this succession of men’s thoughts, there is

nothing to observe in the things they think on, but either in what they

be _like one another_, or in what they be _unlike_, or _what they serve

for_, or _how they serve to such a purpose_; those that observe their

similitudes, in case they be such as are but rarely observed by others,

are said to have a _good wit_; by which, in this occasion, is meant a

_good fancy_. But they that observe their differences, and

dissimilitudes; which is called _distinguishing_, and _discerning_,

[Sidenote: Good judgment.] and _judging_ between thing and thing; in

case, such discerning be not easy, are said to have a _good judgment_:

and particularly in matter of conversation and business; wherein, times,

places, and persons are to be discerned, [Sidenote: Discretion.] this

virtue is called DISCRETION. The former, that is, fancy, without the

help of judgment, is not commended as a virtue: but the latter which is

judgment, and discretion, is commended for itself, without the help of

fancy. Besides the discretion of times, places, and persons, necessary

to a good fancy, there is required also an often application of his

thoughts to their end; that is to say, to some use to be made of them.

This done; he that hath this virtue, will be easily fitted with

similitudes, that will please, not only by illustrations of his

discourse, and adorning it with new and apt metaphors; but also, by the

rarity of their invention. But without steadiness, and direction to some

end, a great fancy is one kind of madness; such as they have, that

entering into any discourse, are snatched from their purpose, by every

thing that comes in their thought, into so many, and so long

digressions, and parentheses, that they utterly lose themselves: which

kind of folly, I know no particular name for: but the cause of it is,

sometimes want of experience; whereby that seemeth to a man new and

rare, which doth not so to others: sometimes pusillanimity; by which

that seems great to him, which other men think a trifle: and whatsoever

is new, or great, and therefore thought fit to be told, withdraws a man

by degrees from the intended way of his discourse.

In a good poem, whether it be _epic_, or _dramatic_; as also in

_sonnets_, _epigrams_, and other pieces, both judgment and fancy are

required: but the fancy must be more eminent; because they please for

the extravagancy; but ought not to displease by indiscretion.

In a good history, the judgment must be eminent; because the goodness

consisteth, in the method, in the truth, and in the choice of the

actions that are most profitable to be known. Fancy has no place, but

only in adorning the style.

In orations of praise, and in invectives, the fancy is predominant;

because the design is not truth, but to honour or dishonour; which is

done by noble, or by vile comparisons. The judgment does but suggest

what circumstances make an action laudable, or culpable.

In hortatives, and pleadings, as truth, or disguise serveth best to the

design in hand; so is the judgment, or the fancy most required.

[Sidenote: Discretion.]

In demonstration, in counsel, and all rigorous search of truth, judgment

does all, except sometimes the understanding have need to be opened by

some apt similitude; and then there is so much use of fancy. But for

metaphors, they are in this case utterly excluded. For seeing they

openly profess deceit; to admit them into counsel, or reasoning, were

manifest folly.

And in any discourse whatsoever, if the defect of discretion be

apparent, how extravagant soever the fancy be, the whole discourse will

be taken for a sign of want of wit; and so will it never when the

discretion is manifest, though the fancy be never so ordinary.

The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, profane, clean,

obscene, grave, and light, without shame, or blame; which verbal

discourse cannot do, farther than the judgment shall approve of the

time, place, and persons. An anatomist, or a physician may speak, or

write his judgment of unclean things; because it is not to please, but

profit: but for another man to write his extravagant, and pleasant

fancies of the same, is as if a man, from being tumbled into the dirt,

should come and present himself before good company. And it is the want

of discretion that makes the difference. Again, in professed remissness

of mind, and familiar company, a man may play with the sounds, and

equivocal significations of words; and that many times with encounters

of extraordinary fancy: but in a sermon, or in public, or before persons

unknown, or whom we ought to reverence; there is no gingling of words

that will not be accounted folly: and the difference is only in the want

of discretion. So that where wit is wanting, it is not fancy that is

wanting, but discretion. Judgment therefore without fancy is wit, but

fancy without judgment, not.

[Sidenote: Prudence.]

When the thoughts of a man, that has a design in hand, running over a

multitude of things, observes how they conduce to that design; or what

design they may conduce unto; if his observations be such as are not

easy, or usual, this wit of his is called PRUDENCE; and depends on much

experience, and memory of the like things, and their consequences

heretofore. In which there is not so much difference of men; as there is

in their fancies and judgment; because the experience of men equal in

age, is not much unequal, as to the quantity; but lies in different

occasions; every one having his private designs. To govern well a

family, and a kingdom, are not different degrees of prudence; but

different sorts of business; no more than to draw a picture in little,

or as great, or greater than the life, are different degrees of art. A

plain husbandman is more prudent in affairs of his own house, than a

privy-councillor in the affairs of another man.

[Sidenote: Craft.]

To prudence, if you add the use of unjust, or dishonest means, such as

usually are prompted to men by fear, or want; you have that crooked

wisdom, which is called CRAFT; which is a sign of pusillanimity. For

magnanimity is contempt of unjust, or dishonest helps. And that which

the Latins call _versutia_, translated into English, _shifting_, and is

a putting off of a present danger or incommodity, by engaging into a

greater, as when a man robs one to pay another, is but a shorter-sighted

craft, called _versutia_, from _versura_, which signifies taking money

at usury for the present payment of interest.

[Sidenote: Acquired wit.]

As for _acquired wit_, I mean acquired by method and instruction, there

is none but reason; which is grounded on the right use of speech, and

produceth the sciences. But of reason and science I have already spoken,

in the fifth and sixth chapters.

The causes of this difference of wits, are in the passions; and the

difference of passions proceedeth, partly from the different

constitution of the body, and partly from different education. For if

the difference proceeded from the temper of the brain, and the organs of

sense, either exterior or interior, there would be no less difference of

men in their sight, hearing, or other senses, than in their fancies and

discretions. It proceeds therefore from the passions; which are

different, not only from the difference of mens’ complexions; but also

from their difference of customs, and education.

The passions that most of all cause the difference of wit, are

principally, the more or less desire of power, of riches, of knowledge,

and of honour. All which may be reduced to the first, that is, desire of

power. For riches, knowledge, and honour, are but several sorts of

power.

And therefore, a man who has no great passion for any of these things;

but is, as men term it, indifferent; though he may be so far a good man,

as to be free from giving offence; yet he cannot possibly have either a

great fancy, or much judgment. For the thoughts are to the desires, as

scouts, and spies, to range abroad, and find the way to the things

desired: all steadiness of the mind’s motion, and all quickness of the

same, proceeding from thence: for as to have no desire, is to be dead:

[Sidenote: Giddiness.] so to have weak passions, is dullness; and to

have passions indifferently for everything, GIDDINESS, and

_distraction_; [Sidenote: Madness.] and to have stronger and more

vehement passions for anything, than is ordinarily seen in others, is

that which men call MADNESS.

Whereof there be almost as many kinds, as of the passions themselves.

Sometimes the extraordinary and extravagant passion, proceedeth from the

evil constitution of the organs of the body, or harm done them; and

sometimes the hurt, and indisposition of the organs, is caused by the

vehemence, or long continuance of the passion. But in both cases the

madness is of one and the same nature.

The passion, whose violence, or continuance, maketh madness, is either

great _vain-glory_; which is commonly called _pride_, and

_self-conceit_; or great _dejection_ of mind.

[Sidenote: Rage.]

Pride, subjecteth a man to anger, the excess whereof, is the madness

called RAGE and FURY. And thus it comes to pass that excessive desire of

revenge, when it becomes habitual, hurteth the organs, and becomes rage:

that excessive love, with jealousy, becomes also rage: excessive opinion

of a man’s own self, for divine inspiration, for wisdom, learning, form

and the like, becomes distraction and giddiness: the same, joined with

envy, rage: vehement opinion of the truth of anything, contradicted by

others, rage.

[Sidenote: Melancholy.]

Dejection subjects a man to causeless fears; which is a madness,

commonly called MELANCHOLY; apparent also in divers manners as in

haunting of solitudes and graves; in superstitious behaviour; and in

fearing, some one, some another particular thing. In sum, all passions

that produce strange and unusual behaviour, are called by the general

name of madness. But of the several kinds of madness, he that would take

the pains, might enrol a legion. [Sidenote: Madness.] And if the

excesses be madness, there is no doubt but the passions themselves, when

they tend to evil, are degrees of the same.

For example, though the effect of folly, in them that are possessed of

an opinion of being inspired, be not visible always in one man, by any

very extravagant action, that proceedeth from such passion; yet, when

many of them conspire together, the rage of the whole multitude is

visible enough. For what argument of madness can there be greater, than

to clamour, strike, and throw stones at our best friends? Yet this is

somewhat less than such a multitude will do. For they will clamour,

fight against, and destroy those, by whom all their lifetime before,

they have been protected, and secured from injury. And if this be

madness in the multitude, it is the same in every particular man. For as

in the midst of the sea, though a man perceive no sound of that part of

the water next him, yet he is well assured, that part contributes as

much to the roaring of the sea, as any other part of the same quantity;

so also, though we perceive no great unquietness in one or two men, yet

we may be well assured, that their singular passions, are parts of the

seditious roaring of a troubled nation. And if there were nothing else

that bewrayed their madness; yet that very arrogating such inspiration

to themselves, is argument enough. If some man in Bedlam should

entertain you with sober discourse; and you desire in taking leave, to

know what he were, that you might another time requite his civility; and

he should tell you, he were God the Father; I think you need expect no

extravagant action for argument of his madness.

This opinion of inspiration, called commonly, private spirit, begins

very often, from some lucky finding of an error generally held by

others; and not knowing, or not remembering, by what conduct of reason,

they came to so singular a truth, (as they think it, though it be many

times an untruth they light on) they presently admire themselves, as

being in the special grace of God Almighty, who hath revealed the same

to them supernaturally, by his Spirit.

Again, that madness is nothing else, but too much appearing passion, may

be gathered out of the effects of wine, which are the same with those of

the evil disposition of the organs. For the variety of behaviour in men

that have drunk too much, is the same with that of madmen: some of them

raging, others loving, others laughing, all extravagantly, but according

to their several domineering passions: for the effect of the wine, does

but remove dissimulation, and take from them the sight of the deformity

of their passions. For, I believe, the most sober men, when they walk

alone without care and employment of the mind, would be unwilling the

vanity and extravagance of their thoughts at that time should be

publicly seen; which is a confession, that passions unguided, are for

the most part mere madness.

The opinions of the world, both in ancient and later ages, concerning

the cause of madness, have been two. Some deriving them from the

passions; some, from demons, or spirits, either good or bad, which they

thought might enter into a man, possess him, and move his organs in such

strange and uncouth manner, as madmen use to do. The former sort

therefore, called such men, madmen: but the latter, called them

sometimes _demoniacs_, that is, possessed with spirits; sometimes

_enurgumeni_, that is, agitated or moved with spirits; and now in Italy

they are called, not only _pazzi_, madmen; but also _spiritati_, men

possessed.

There was once a great conflux of people in Abdera, a city of the

Greeks, at the acting of the tragedy of _Andromeda_, upon an extreme hot

day; whereupon, a great many of the spectators falling into fevers, had

this accident from the heat, and from the tragedy together, that they

did nothing but pronounce iambics, with the names of Perseus and

Andromeda; which, together with the fever, was cured by the coming on of

winter; and this madness was thought to proceed from the passion

imprinted by the tragedy. Likewise there reigned a fit of madness in

another Grecian city, which seized only the young maidens; and caused

many of them to hang themselves. This was by most then thought an act of

the Devil. But one that suspected, that contempt of life in them, might

proceed from some passion of the mind, and supposing that they did not

contemn also their honour, gave counsel to the magistrates, to strip

such as so hanged themselves, and let them hang out naked. This, the

story says, cured that madness. But on the other side, the same

Grecians, did often ascribe madness to the operation of Eumenides, or

Furies; and sometimes of Ceres, Phœbus, and other gods; so much did men

attribute to phantasms, as to think them aëreal living bodies; and

generally to call them spirits. And as the Romans in this, held the same

opinion with the Greeks, so also did the Jews; for they called madmen

prophets, or, according as they thought the spirits good or bad,

demoniacs: and some of them called both prophets and demoniacs, madmen;

and some called the same man both demoniac, and madman. But for the

Gentiles it is no wonder, because diseases and health, vices and

virtues, and many natural accidents, were with them termed, and

worshipped as demons. So that a man was to understand by demon, as well,

sometimes an ague, as a devil. But for the Jews to have such opinion, is

somewhat strange. For neither Moses nor Abraham pretended to prophecy by

possession of a spirit; but from the voice of God; or by a vision or

dream: nor is there anything in his law, moral or ceremonial, by which

they were taught, there was any such enthusiasm, or any possession. When

God is said, (_Numb._ xi. 25) to take from the spirit that was in Moses,

and give to the seventy elders, the Spirit of God (taking it for the

substance of God) is not divided. The Scriptures, by the Spirit of God

in man, mean a man’s spirit, inclined to godliness. And where it is

said, (_Exod._ xxiii. 8) “whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom

to make garments for Aaron,” is not meant a spirit put into them, that

can make garments, but the wisdom of their own spirits in that kind of

work. In the like sense, the spirit of man, when it produceth unclean

actions, is ordinarily called an unclean spirit, and so other spirits,

though not always, yet as often as the virtue or vice so styled, is

extraordinary, and eminent. Neither did the other prophets of the old

Testament pretend enthusiasm; or, that God spake in them; but to them,

by voice, vision, or dream; and the _burthen of the Lord_ was not

possession, but command. How then could the Jews fall into this opinion

of possession? I can imagine no reason, but that which is common to all

men; namely, the want of curiosity to search natural causes: and their

placing felicity in the acquisition of the gross pleasures of the

senses, and the things that most immediately conduce thereto. For they

that see any strange, and unusual ability, or defect, in a man’s mind;

unless they see withal, from what cause it may probably proceed, can

hardly think it natural; and if not natural, they must needs think it

supernatural; and then what can it be, but that either God or the Devil

is in him? And hence it came to pass, when our Saviour (_Mark_ iii. 21)

was compassed about with the multitude, those of the house doubted he

was mad, and went out to hold him: but the Scribes said he had

Beelzebub, and that was it, by which he cast out devils; as if the

greater madman had awed the lesser: and that (_John_ x. 20) some said,

_he hath a devil, and is mad_; whereas others holding him for a prophet,

said, _these are not the words of one that hath a devil_. So in the old

Testament he that came to anoint Jehu, (_2 Kings_ ix. 11) was a prophet;

but some of the company asked Jehu, _what came that madman for?_ So that

in sum, it is manifest, that whosoever behaved himself in extraordinary

manner, was thought by the Jews to be possessed either with a good, or

evil spirit; except by the Sadducees, who erred so far on the other

hand, as not to believe there were at all any spirits, which is very

near to direct atheism; and thereby perhaps the more provoked others, to

term such men demoniacs, rather than madmen.

But why then does our Saviour proceed in the curing of them, as if they

were possessed; and not as if they were mad? To which I can give no

other kind of answer, but that which is given to those that urge the

Scripture in like manner against the opinion of the motion of the earth.

The Scripture was written to shew unto men the kingdom of God, and to

prepare their minds to become his obedient subjects; leaving the world,

and the philosophy thereof, to the disputation of men, for the

exercising of their natural reason. Whether the earth’s, or sun’s motion

make the day, and night; or whether the exorbitant actions of men,

proceed from passion, or from the devil, so we worship him not, it is

all one, as to our obedience, and subjection to God Almighty; which is

the thing for which the Scripture was written. As for that our Saviour

speaketh to the disease, as to a person; it is the usual phrase of all

that cure by words only, as Christ did, and enchanters pretend to do,

whether they speak to a devil or not. For is not Christ also said

(_Matt._ viii. 26) to have rebuked the winds? Is not he said also

(_Luke_ iv. 39) to rebuke a fever? Yet this does not argue that a fever

is a devil. And whereas many of the devils are said to confess Christ;

it is not necessary to interpret those places otherwise, than that those

madmen confessed him. And whereas our Saviour (_Matt._ xii. 43) speaketh

of an unclean spirit, that having gone out of a man, wandereth through

dry places, seeking rest, and finding none, and returning into the same

man, with seven other spirits worse than himself; it is manifestly a

parable, alluding to a man, that after a little endeavour to quit his

lusts, is vanquished by the strength of them; and becomes seven times

worse than he was. So that I see nothing at all in the Scripture, that

requireth a belief, that demoniacs were any other thing but madmen.

[Sidenote: Insignificant speech.]

There is yet another fault in the discourses of some men; which may also

be numbered amongst the sorts of madness; namely, that abuse of words,

whereof I have spoken before in the fifth chapter, by the name of

absurdity. And that is, when men speak such words, as put together, have

in them no signification at all; but are fallen upon by some, through

misunderstanding of the words they have received, and repeat by rote; by

others from intention to deceive by obscurity. And this is incident to

none but those, that converse in questions of matters incomprehensible,

as the School-men; or in questions of abstruse philosophy. The common

sort of men seldom speak insignificantly, and are therefore, by those

other egregious persons counted idiots. But to be assured their words

are without any thing correspondent to them in the mind, there would

need some examples; which if any man require, let him take a School-man

in his hands and see if he can translate any one chapter concerning any

difficult point, as the Trinity; the Deity; the nature of Christ;

transubstantiation; free-will, &c. into any of the modern tongues, so as

to make the same intelligible; or into any tolerable Latin, such as they

were acquainted withal, that lived when the Latin tongue was vulgar.

What is the meaning of these words, _The first cause does not

necessarily inflow any thing into the second, by force of the essential

subordination of the second causes, by which it may help it to work_?

They are the translation of the title of the sixth chapter of _Suarez’_

first book, _Of the concourse, motion, and help of God_. When men write

whole volumes of such stuff, are they not mad, or intend to make others

so? And particularly, in the question of transubstantiation; where after

certain words spoken; they that say, the white_ness_, round_ness_,

magni_tude_, quali_ty_, corruptibili_ty_, all which are incorporeal, &c.

go out of the wafer, into the body of our blessed Saviour, do they not

make those _nesses_, _tudes_, and _ties_, to be so many spirits

possessing his body? For by spirits, they mean always things, that being

incorporeal, are nevertheless moveable from one place to another. So

that this kind of absurdity, may rightly be numbered amongst the many

sorts of madness; and all the time that guided by clear thoughts of

their worldly lust, they forbear disputing, or writing thus, but lucid

intervals. And thus much of the virtues and defects intellectual.

-------

CHAPTER IX.

OF THE SEVERAL SUBJECTS OF KNOWLEDGE.

[Sidenote: Knowledge.]

There are of KNOWLEDGE two kinds; whereof one is _knowledge of fact_:

the other _knowledge of the consequence of one affirmation to another_.

The former is nothing else, but sense and memory, and is _absolute

knowledge_; as when we see a fact doing, or remember it done: and this

is the knowledge required in a witness. The latter is called _science_;

and is _conditional_; as when we know, that, _if the figure shown be a

circle, then any straight line through the centre shall divide it into

two equal parts_. And this is the knowledge required in a philosopher;

that is to say, of him that pretends to reasoning.

The register of _knowledge of fact_ is called _history_. Whereof there

be two sorts: one called _natural history_; which is the history of such

facts, or effects of nature, as have no dependence on man’s _will_; such

as are the histories of _metals_, _plants_, _animals_, _regions_, and

the like. The other, is _civil history_; which is the history of the

voluntary actions of men in commonwealths.

The registers of science, are such _books_ as contain the

_demonstrations_ of consequences of one affirmation, to another; and are

commonly called _books of philosophy_; whereof the sorts are many,

according to the diversity of the matter; and may be divided in such

manner as I have divided them in the following table.

{ Consequences from the accidents

{ common to all bodies natural;

{ which are _quantity_, and _motion_.

{

{ Consequences { { Consequences from the

{ from the { { qualities of bodies

{ accidents { { _transient_, such as

{ of bodies { { sometimes appear,

{ natural; { { sometimes vanish,

{ which is { { _Meteorology_.

{ called { {

{ NATURAL { { { Consequences

{ PHILOSOPHY. { Physics or { { from the

{ { consequences { { qualities of

{ { from { { the _stars_.

{ { _qualities_. { {

{ { { Consequences

{ { { of the

{ { { qualities

{ { { from

{ { { _liquid_

SCIENCE, { { Consequences { bodies,

that is, { { from the { that fill

knowledge of { { qualities of { the space

consequences; { { bodies { between the

which is { { _permanent_. { stars; such

called also { { as are the

PHILOSOPHY. { { _air_, or

{ { substances

{ { ethereal.

{ {

{ { Consequences

{ { from the

{ { qualities of

{ { _bodies

{ { terrestrial_.

{ Consequences {

{ from the { 1. Of consequences from the _institution_

{ accidents of { of COMMONWEALTHS, to the _rights_, and

{ _politic_ { _duties_ of the _body politic_ or

{ bodies; { _sovereign_.

{ which is {

{ called {

{ POLITICS, { 2. Of consequences from the same, to the

{ and CIVIL { _duty_ and _right_ of the _subjects_.

{ PHILOSOPHY. {

Consequences from quantity, and motion _indeterminate_; { PHILOSOPHIA

which being the principles or first foundation of { PRIMA.

philosophy, is called _Philosophia Prima_. {

{ Consequences { By Figure. } { GEOMETRY.

{ from quanti- { } _Mathematics._ {

{ ty and motion { } {

Consequences { determined. { By Number. } { ARITHMETIC.

from motion {

and quantity { { Consequences }

_determined_. { Consequences { from the }

{ from the { motion and }

{ motion, and { quantity of } { ASTRONOMY.

{ quantity of { the greater } _Cosmography._ {

{ bodies in { parts of the } { GEOGRAPHY.

{ _special_. { world, as }

{ the _earth_ }

{ and _stars_. }

{

{ Consequences }

{ from the } { _Science_ of

{ motions of } _Mechanics._ { ENGINEERS.

{ special } Doctrine of {

{ kinds, and } _weight_. { ARCHITECTURE.

{ figures of } { NAVIGATION.

{ body. }

METEOROLOGY.

{ Consequences from the _light_ of the stars. Out of } SCIOGRAPHY.

{ this, and the motion of the sun, is made the science of }

{

{ Consequences from the _influences_ of the stars } ASTROLOGY.

{ Consequences { Consequences from the qualities of

{ from the { _minerals_, as _stones_, _metals_, &c.

{ parts of the {

{ earth, that {

{ are _without {

{ sense_. { Consequences from the qualities of

{ { _vegetables_.

{

{ { Consequences { Consequences from _vision_ OPTICS.

{ { from the { Consequences from _sounds_ MUSIC.

{ { qualities of {

{ { _animals { Consequences from the rest

{ Consequences { in general_. { of the _senses._

{ from the {

{ qualities of { { Consequences from the { ETHICS.

{ _animals_. { { _passions_ of men {

{ {

{ { { In _magnifying_, } POETRY.

{ Consequences { { _vilifying_, &c. }

{ from the { Consequences { In _persuading_, RHETORIC.

{ qualities of { from { In _reasoning_, LOGIC.

{ _men in { _speech_. { In _contracting_, The _Science_

special_. { of JUST and

{ UNJUST.

-------

CHAPTER X.

OF POWER, WORTH, DIGNITY, HONOUR, AND

WORTHINESS.

[Sidenote: Power.]

The POWER _of a man_, to take it universally, is his present means; to

obtain some future apparent good; and is either _original_ or

_instrumental_.

_Natural power_, is the eminence of the faculties of body, or mind: as

extraordinary strength, form, prudence, arts, eloquence, liberality,

nobility. _Instrumental_ are those powers, which acquired by these, or

by fortune, are means and instruments to acquire more: as riches,

reputation, friends, and the secret working of God, which men call good

luck. For the nature of power, is in this point, like to fame,

increasing as it proceeds; or like the motion of heavy bodies, which the

further they go, make still the more haste.

The greatest of human powers, is that which is compounded of the powers

of most men, united by consent, in one person, natural, or civil, that

has the use of all their powers depending on his will; such as is the

power of a common-wealth: or depending on the wills of each particular;

such as is the power of a faction or of divers factions leagued.

Therefore to have servants, is power; to have friends, is power: for

they are strengths united.

Also riches joined with liberality, is power; because it procureth

friends, and servants: without liberality, not so; because in this case

they defend not; but expose men to envy, as a prey.

Reputation of power, is power; because it draweth with it the adherence

of those that need protection.

So is reputation of love of a man’s country, called popularity, for the

same reason.

Also, what quality soever maketh a man beloved, or feared of many; or

the reputation of such quality, is power; because it is a means to have

the assistance, and service of many.

Good success is power; because it maketh reputation of wisdom, or good

fortune; which makes men either fear him, or rely on him.

Affability of men already in power, is increase of power; because it

gaineth love.

Reputation of prudence in the conduct of peace or war, is power; because

to prudent men, we commit the government of ourselves, more willingly

than to others.

Nobility is power, not in all places, but only in those commonwealths,

where it has privileges: for in such privileges, consisteth their power.

Eloquence is power, because it is seeming prudence.

Form is power; because being a promise of good, it recommendeth men to

the favour of women and strangers.

The sciences, are small power; because not eminent; and therefore, not

acknowledged in any man; nor are at all, but in a few, and in them, but

of a few things. For science is of that nature, as none can understand

it to be, but such as in a good measure have attained it.

Arts of public use, as fortification, making of engines, and other

instruments of war; because they confer to defence, and victory, are

power: and though the true mother of them, be science, namely the

mathematics; yet, because they are brought into the light, by the hand

of the artificer, they be esteemed, the midwife passing with the vulgar

for the mother, as his issue.

[Sidenote: Worth.]

The _value_, or WORTH of a man, is as of all other things, his price;

that is to say, so much as would be given for the use of his power: and

therefore is not absolute; but a thing dependant on the need and

judgment of another. An able conductor of soldiers, is of great price in

time of war present, or imminent; but in peace not so. A learned and

uncorrupt judge, is much worth in time of peace; but not so much in war.

And as in other things, so in men, not the seller, but the buyer

determines the price. For let a man, as most men do, rate themselves at

the highest value they can; yet their true value is no more than it is

esteemed by others.

The manifestation of the value we set on one another, is that which is

commonly called honouring, and dishonouring. To value a man at a high

rate, is to _honour_ him; at a low rate, is to _dishonour_ him. But

high, and low, in this case, is to be understood by comparison to the

rate that each man setteth on himself.

[Sidenote: Dignity.]

The public worth of a man, which is the value set on him by the

commonwealth, is that which men commonly call DIGNITY. And this value of

him by the commonwealth, is understood, by offices of command,

judicature, public employment; or by names and titles, introduced for

distinction of such value.

To pray to another, for aid of any kind, is _to_ HONOUR; because a sign

we have an opinion he has power to help; and the more difficult the aid

is, the more is the honour.

[Sidenote: To honour and dishonour.]

To obey, is to honour, because no man obeys them, whom they think have

no power to help, or hurt them. And consequently to disobey, is to

_dishonour_.

To give great gifts to a man, is to honour him; because it is buying of

protection, and acknowledging of power. To give little gifts, is to

dishonour; because it is but alms, and signifies an opinion of the need

of small helps.

To be sedulous in promoting another’s good; also to flatter, is to

honour; as a sign we seek his protection or aid. To neglect, is to

dishonour.

To give way, or place to another, in any commodity, is to honour; being

a confession of greater power. To arrogate, is to dishonour.

To show any sign of love, or fear of another, is to honour; for both to

love, and to fear, is to value. To contemn, or less to love or fear,

than he expects, is to dishonour; for it is undervaluing.

To praise, magnify, or call happy, is to honour; because nothing but

goodness, power, and felicity is valued. To revile, mock, or pity, is to

dishonour.

To speak to another with consideration, to appear before him with

decency, and humility, is to honour him; as signs of fear to offend. To

speak to him rashly, to do any thing before him obscenely, slovenly,

impudently, is to dishonour.

To believe, to trust, to rely on another, is to honour him; sign of

opinion of his virtue and power. To distrust, or not believe, is to

dishonour.

To hearken to a man’s counsel, or discourse of what kind soever is to

honour; as a sign we think him wise, or eloquent, or witty. To sleep, or

go forth, or talk the while, is to dishonour.

To do those things to another, which he takes for signs of honour, or

which the law or custom makes so, is to honour; because in approving the

honour done by others, he acknowledgeth the power which others

acknowledge. To refuse to do them, is to dishonour.

To agree with in opinion, is to honour; as being a sign of approving his

judgment, and wisdom. To dissent, is dishonour, and an upbraiding of

error; and, if the dissent be in many things, of folly.

To imitate, is to honour; for it is vehemently to approve. To imitate

one’s enemy, is to dishonour.

To honour those another honours, is to honour him; as a sign of

approbation of his judgment. To honour his enemies, is to dishonour him.

To employ in counsel, or in actions of difficulty, is to honour; as a

sign of opinion of his wisdom, or other power. To deny employment in the

same cases, to those that seek it, is to dishonour.

All these ways of honouring, are natural; and as well within, as without

commonwealths. But in commonwealths, where he, or they that have the

supreme authority, can make whatsoever they please, to stand for signs

of honour, there be other honours.

A sovereign doth honour a subject, with whatsoever title, or office, or

employment, or action, that he himself will have taken for a sign of his

will to honour him.

The king of Persia, honoured Mordecai, when he appointed he should be

conducted through the streets in the king’s garment, upon one of the

king’s horses, with a crown on his head, and a prince before him,

proclaiming, _thus shall it be done to him that the king will honour_.

And yet another king of Persia, or the same another time, to one that

demanded for some great service, to wear one of the king’s robes, gave

him leave so to do; but with this addition, that he should wear it as

the king’s fool; and then it was dishonour. So that of civil honour, the

fountain is in the person of the commonwealth, and dependeth on the will

of the sovereign; and is therefore temporary, and called _civil honour_;

such as magistracy, offices, titles; and in some places coats and

scutcheons painted: and men honour such as have them, as having so many

signs of favour in the commonwealth; which favour is power.

[Sidenote: Honourable.]

_Honourable_ is whatsoever possession, action, or quality, is an

argument and sign of power.

[Sidenote: Dishonourable.]

And therefore to be honoured, loved, or feared of many, is honourable;

as arguments of power. To be honoured of few or none, _dishonourable_.

Dominion, and victory is honourable; because acquired by power; and

servitude, for need, or fear, is dishonourable.

Good fortune, if lasting, honourable; as a sign of the favour of God.

Ill fortune, and losses, dishonourable. Riches, are honourable; for they

are power. Poverty, dishonourable. Magnanimity, liberality, hope,

courage, confidence, are honourable; for they proceed from the

conscience of power. Pusillanimity, parsimony, fear, diffidence, are

dishonourable.

Timely resolution, or determination of what a man is to do, is

honourable; as being the contempt of small difficulties, and dangers.

And irresolution, dishonourable; as a sign of too much valuing of little

impediments, and little advantages: for when a man has weighed things as

long as the time permits, and resolves not, the difference of weight is

but little; and therefore if he resolve not, he overvalues little

things, which is pusillanimity.

[Sidenote: Honourable & Dishonourable.]

All actions, and speeches, that proceed, or seem to proceed, from much

experience, science, discretion, or wit, are honourable; for all these

are powers. Actions, or words that proceed from error, ignorance, or

folly, dishonourable.

Gravity, as far forth as it seems to proceed from a mind employed on

something else, is honourable; because employment is a sign of power.

But if it seem to proceed from a purpose to appear grave, it is

dishonourable. For the gravity of the former, is like the steadiness of

a ship laden with merchandize; but of the latter, like the steadiness of

a ship ballasted with sand, and other trash.

To be conspicuous, that is to say, to be known, for wealth, office,

great actions, or any eminent good, is honourable; as a sign of the

power for which he is conspicuous. On the contrary, obscurity, is

dishonourable.

To be descended from conspicuous parents, is honourable; because they

the more easily attain the aids, and friends of their ancestors. On the

contrary, to be descended from obscure parentage, is dishonourable.

Actions proceeding from equity, joined with loss, are honourable; as

signs of magnanimity: for magnanimity is a sign of power. On the

contrary, craft, shifting, neglect of equity, is dishonourable.

Covetousness of great riches, and ambition of great honours, are

honourable; as signs of power to obtain them. Covetousness, and

ambition, of little gains, or preferments, is dishonourable.

Nor does it alter the case of honour, whether an action, so it be great

and difficult, and consequently a sign of much power, be just or unjust:

for honour consisteth only in the opinion of power. Therefore the

ancient heathen did not think they dishonoured, but greatly honoured the

Gods, when they introduced them in their poems, committing rapes,

thefts, and other great, but unjust, or unclean acts: insomuch as

nothing is so much celebrated in Jupiter, as his adulteries; nor in

Mercury, as his frauds, and thefts: of whose praises, in a hymn of

Homer, the greatest is this, that being born in the morning, he had

invented music at noon, and before night, stolen away the cattle of

Apollo, from his herdsmen.

Also amongst men, till there were constituted great commonwealths, it

was thought no dishonour to be a pirate, or a highway thief; but rather

a lawful trade, not only amongst the Greeks, but also amongst all other

nations; as is manifest by the histories of ancient time. And at this

day, in this part of the world, private duels are, and always will be

honourable, though unlawful, till such time as there shall be honour

ordained for them that refuse, and ignominy for them that make the

challenge. For duels also are many times effects of courage; and the

ground of courage is always strength or skill, which are power; though

for the most part they be effects of rash speaking, and of the fear of

dishonour, in one, or both the combatants; who engaged by rashness, are

driven into the lists to avoid disgrace.

[Sidenote: Coats of arms.]

Scutcheons, and coats of arms hereditary, where they have any eminent

privileges, are honourable; otherwise not: for their power consisteth

either in such privileges, or in riches, or some such thing as is

equally honoured in other men. This kind of honour, commonly called

gentry, hath been derived from the ancient Germans. For there never was

any such thing known, where the German customs were unknown. Nor is it

now any where in use, where the Germans have not inhabited. The ancient

Greek commanders, when they went to war, had their shields painted with

such devices as they pleased; insomuch as an unpainted buckler was a

sign of poverty, and of a common soldier; but they transmitted not the

inheritance of them. The Romans transmitted the marks of their families:

but they were the images, not the devices of their ancestors. Amongst

the people of Asia, Africa, and America, there is not, nor was ever, any

such thing. The Germans only had that custom; from whom it has been

derived into England, France, Spain, and Italy, when in great numbers

they either aided the Romans, or made their own conquests in these

western parts of the world.

For Germany, being anciently, as all other countries, in their

beginnings, divided amongst an infinite number of little lords, or

masters of families, that continually had wars one with another; those

masters, or lords, principally to the end they might, when they were

covered with arms, be known by their followers; and partly for ornament,

both painted their armour, or their scutcheon, or coat, with the picture

of some beast, or other thing; and also put some eminent and visible

mark upon the crest of their helmets. And this ornament both of the

arms, and crest, descended by inheritance to their children; to the

eldest pure, and to the rest with some note of diversity, such as the

old master, that is to say in Dutch, the _Here-alt_ thought fit. But

when many such families, joined together, made a greater monarchy, this

duty of the Herealt, to distinguish scutcheons, was made a private

office apart. And the issue of these lords, is the great and ancient

gentry; which for the most part bear living creatures, noted for

courage, and rapine; or castles, battlements, belts, weapons, bars,

palisadoes, and other notes of war; nothing being then in honour, but

virtue military. Afterwards, not only kings, but popular commonwealths,

gave divers manners of scutcheons, to such as went forth to the war, or

returned from it, for encouragement, or recompense to their service. All

which, by an observing reader, may be found in such ancient histories,

Greek and Latin, as make mention of the German nation and manners, in

their times.

[Sidenote: Titles of honour.]

Titles of _honour_, such as are duke, count, marquis, and baron, are

honourable; as signifying the value set upon them by the sovereign power

of the commonwealth: which titles, were in old time titles of office,

and command, derived some from the Romans, some from the Germans and

French: dukes, in Latin _duces_, being generals in war: counts,

_comites_, such as bear the general company out of friendship, and were

left to govern and defend places conquered, and pacified: marquises,

_marchiones_, were counts that governed the marches, or bounds of the

empire. Which titles of duke, count, and marquis, came into the empire,

about the time of Constantine the Great, from the customs of the German

_militia_. But baron, seems to have been a title of the Gauls, and

signifies a great man; such as were the king’s, or prince’s men, whom

they employed in war about their persons; and seems to be derived from

_vir_, to _ber_, and _bar_, that signified the same in the language of

the Gauls, that _vir_ in Latin; and thence to _bero_, and _baro_: so

that such men were called _berones_, and after _barones_; and, in

Spanish, _varones_. But he that would know more particularly the

original of titles of honour, may find it, as I have done this, in Mr.

Selden’s most excellent treatise of that subject. In process of time

these offices of honour, by occasion of trouble, and for reasons of good

and peaceable government, were turned into mere titles; serving for the

most part, to distinguish the precedence, place, and order of subjects

in the commonwealth: and men were made dukes, counts, marquises, and

barons of places, wherein they had neither possession, nor command: and

other titles also, were devised to the same end.

[Sidenote: Worthiness.]

WORTHINESS, is a thing different from the worth, or value of a man; and

also from his merit, or desert, and consisteth in a particular power, or

ability for that, whereof he is said to be worthy: [Sidenote: Fitness.]

which particular ability, is usually named FITNESS, or _aptitude_.

For he is worthiest to be a commander, to be a judge, or to have any

other charge, that is best fitted, with the qualities required to the

well discharging of it; and worthiest of riches, that has the qualities

most requisite for the well using of them: any of which qualities being

absent, one may nevertheless be a worthy man, and valuable for something

else. Again, a man may be worthy of riches, office, and employment, that

nevertheless, can plead no right to have it before another; and

therefore cannot be said to merit or deserve it. For merit presupposeth

a right, and that the thing deserved is due by promise: of which I shall

say more hereafter, when I shall speak of contracts.

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CHAPTER XI.

OF THE DIFFERENCE OF MANNERS.

[Sidenote: What is here meant by manners.]

By MANNERS, I mean not here, decency of behaviour; as how one should

salute another, or how a man should wash his mouth, or pick his teeth

before company, and such other points of the _small morals_; but those

qualities of mankind, that concern their living together in peace, and

unity. To which end we are to consider, that the felicity of this life,

consisteth not in the repose of a mind satisfied. For there is no such

_finis ultimus_, utmost aim, nor _summum bonum_, greatest good, as is

spoken of in the books of the old moral philosophers. Nor can a man any

more live, whose desires are at an end, than he, whose senses and

imaginations are at a stand. Felicity is a continual progress of the

desire, from one object to another; the attaining of the former, being

still but the way to the latter. The cause whereof is, that the object

of man’s desire, is not to enjoy once only, and for one instant of time;

but to assure for ever, the way of his future desire. And therefore the

voluntary actions, and inclinations of all men, tend, not only to the

procuring, but also to the assuring of a contented life; and differ only

in the way: which ariseth partly from the diversity of passions, in

divers men; and partly from the difference of the knowledge, or opinion

each one has of the causes, which produce the effect desired.

[Sidenote: A restless desire of power in all men.]

So that in the first place, I put for a general inclination of all

mankind, a perpetual and restless desire of power after power, that

ceaseth only in death. And the cause of this, is not always that a man

hopes for a more intensive delight, than he has already attained to; or

that he cannot be content with a moderate power: but because he cannot

assure the power and means to live well, which he hath present, without

the acquisition of more. And from hence it is, that kings, whose power

is greatest, turn their endeavours to the assuring it at home by laws,

or abroad by wars: and when that is done, there succeedeth a new desire;

in some, of fame from new conquest; in others, of ease and sensual

pleasure; in others, of admiration, or being flattered for excellence in

some art, or other ability of the mind.

[Sidenote: Love of contention from competition.]

Competition of riches, honour, command, or other power, inclineth to

contention, enmity, and war: because the way of one competitor, to the

attaining of his desire, is to kill, subdue, supplant, or repel the

other. Particularly, competition of praise, inclineth to a reverence of

antiquity. For men contend with the living, not with the dead; to these

ascribing more than due, that they may obscure the glory of the other.

[Sidenote: Civil obedience from love of ease.]

Desire of ease, and sensual delight, disposeth men to obey a common

power: because by such desires, a man doth abandon the protection that

might be hoped for from his own industry, and labour. [Sidenote: From

fear of death, or wounds.] Fear of death, and wounds, disposeth to the

same; and for the same reason. On the contrary, needy men, and hardy,

not contented with their present condition; as also, all men that are

ambitious of military command, are inclined to continue the causes of

war; and to stir up trouble and sedition: for there is no honour

military but by war; nor any such hope to mend an ill game, as by

causing a new shuffle.

[Sidenote: And from love of arts.]

Desire of knowledge, and arts of peace, inclineth men to obey a common

power: for such desire, containeth a desire of leisure; and consequently

protection from some other power than their own.

[Sidenote: Love of virtue from love of praise.]

Desire of praise, disposeth to laudable actions, such as please them

whose judgment they value; for of those men whom we contemn, we contemn

also the praises. Desire of fame after death does the same. And though

after death, there be no sense of the praise given us on earth, as being

joys, that are either swallowed up in the unspeakable joys of Heaven, or

extinguished in the extreme torments of hell: yet is not such fame vain;

because men have a present delight therein, from the foresight of it,

and of the benefit that may redound thereby to their posterity: which

though they now see not, yet they imagine; and anything that is pleasure

to the sense, the same also is pleasure in the imagination.

[Sidenote: Hate, from difficulty of requiting great benefits.]

To have received from one, to whom we think ourselves equal, greater

benefits than there is hope to requite, disposeth to counterfeit love;

but really secret hatred; and puts a man into the estate of a desperate

debtor, that in declining the sight of his creditor, tacitly wishes him

there, where he might never see him more. For benefits oblige, and

obligation is thraldom; and unrequitable obligation perpetual thraldom;

which is to one’s equal, hateful. But to have received benefits from

one, whom we acknowledge for superior, inclines to love; because the

obligation is no new depression: and cheerful acceptation, which men

call _gratitude_, is such an honour done to the obliger, as is taken

generally for retribution. Also to receive benefits, though from an

equal, or inferior, as long as there is hope of requital, disposeth to

love: for in the intention of the receiver, the obligation is of aid and

service mutual; from whence proceedeth an emulation of who shall exceed

in benefiting; the most noble and profitable contention possible;

wherein the victor is pleased with his victory, and the other revenged

by confessing it.

[Sidenote: And from conscience of deserving to be hated.]

To have done more hurt to a man, than he can, or is willing to expiate,

inclineth the doer to hate the sufferer. For he must expect revenge, or

forgiveness; both which are hateful.

[Sidenote: Promptness to hurt, from fear.]

Fear of oppression, disposeth a man to anticipate, or to seek aid by

society: for there is no other way by which a man can secure his life

and liberty.

[Sidenote: And from distrust of their own wit.]

Men that distrust their own subtlety, are, in tumult and sedition,

better disposed for victory, than they that suppose themselves wise, or

crafty. For these love to consult, the other, fearing to be

circumvented, to strike first. And in sedition, men being always in the

precincts of battle, to hold together, and use all advantages of force,

is a better stratagem, than any that can proceed from subtlety of wit.

[Sidenote: Vain undertaking from vain-glory.]

Vain-glorious men, such as without being conscious to themselves of

great sufficiency, delight in supposing themselves gallant men, are

inclined only to ostentation; but not to attempt: because when danger or

difficulty appears, they look for nothing but to have their

insufficiency discovered.

Vain-glorious men, such as estimate their sufficiency by the flattery of

other men, or the fortune of some precedent action, without assured

ground of hope from the true knowledge of themselves, are inclined to

rash engaging; and in the approach of danger, or difficulty, to retire

if they can: because not seeing the way of safety, they will rather

hazard their honour, which may be salved with an excuse; than their

lives, for which no salve is sufficient.

[Sidenote: Ambition, from opinion of sufficiency.]

Men that have a strong opinion of their own wisdom in matter of

government, are disposed to ambition. Because without public employment

in council or magistracy, the honour of their wisdom is lost. And

therefore eloquent speakers are inclined to ambition; for eloquence

seemeth wisdom, both to themselves and others.

[Sidenote: Irresolution, from too great valuing of small matters.]

Pusillanimity disposeth men to irresolution, and consequently to lose

the occasions, and fittest opportunities of action. For after men have

been in deliberation till the time of action approach, if it be not then

manifest what is best to be done, it is a sign, the difference of

motives, the one way and the other, are not great: therefore not to

resolve then, is to lose the occasion by weighing of trifles; which is

pusillanimity.

Frugality, though in poor men a virtue, maketh a man unapt to atchieve

such actions, as require the strength of many men at once: for it

weakeneth their endeavour, which is to be nourished and kept in vigour

by reward.

[Sidenote: Confidence in others, from ignorance of the marks of wisdom

and kindness.]

Eloquence, with flattery, disposeth men to confide in them that have it;

because the former is seeming wisdom, the latter seeming kindness. Add

to them military reputation, and it disposeth men to adhere, and subject

themselves to those men that have them. The two former having given them

caution against danger from him; the latter gives them caution against

danger from others.

[Sidenote: And from ignorance of natural causes.]

Want of science, that is, ignorance of causes, disposeth, or rather

constraineth a man to rely on the advice, and authority of others. For

all men whom the truth concerns, if they rely not on their own, must

rely on the opinion of some other, whom they think wiser than

themselves, and see not why he should deceive them.

[Sidenote: And from want of understanding.]

Ignorance of the signification of words, which is want of understanding,

disposeth men to take on trust, not only the truth they know not; but

also the errors; and which is more, the nonsense of them they trust: for

neither error nor nonsense, can without a perfect understanding of

words, be detected.

From the same it proceedeth, that men give different names, to one and

the same thing, from the difference of their own passions: as they that

approve a private opinion, call it opinion; but they that mislike it,

heresy: and yet heresy signifies no more than private opinion; but has

only a greater tincture of choler.

From the same also it proceedeth, that men cannot distinguish, without

study and great understanding, between one action of many men, and many

actions of one multitude; as for example, between one action of all the

senators of Rome in killing Cataline, and the many actions of a number

of senators in killing Cæsar; and therefore are disposed to take for the

action of the people, that which is a multitude of actions done by a

multitude of men, led perhaps by the persuasion of one.

[Sidenote: Adherence to custom, from ignorance of the nature of right

and wrong.]

Ignorance of the causes, and original constitution of right, equity,

law, and justice, disposeth a man to make custom and example the rule of

his actions; in such manner, as to think that unjust which it hath been

the custom to punish; and that just, of the impunity and approbation

whereof they can produce an example, or, as the lawyers which only use

this false measure of justice barbarously call it, a precedent; like

little children, that have no other rule of good and evil manners, but

the correction they receive from their parents and masters; save that

children are constant to their rule, whereas, men are not so; because

grown old, and stubborn, they appeal from custom to reason, and from

reason to custom, as it serves their turn; receding from custom when

their interest requires it, and setting themselves against reason, as

oft as reason is against them: which is the cause, that the doctrine of

right and wrong, is perpetually disputed, both by the pen and the sword:

whereas the doctrine of lines, and figures, is not so; because men care

not, in that subject, what be truth, as a thing that crosses no man’s

ambition, profit or lust. For I doubt not, but if it had been a thing

contrary to any man’s right of dominion, or to the interest of men that

have dominion, _that the three angles of a triangle, should be equal to

two angles of a square_; that doctrine should have been, if not

disputed, yet by the burning of all books of geometry, suppressed, as

far as he whom it concerned was able.

[Sidenote: Adherence to private men, from ignorance of the causes of

peace.]

Ignorance of remote causes, disposeth men to attribute all events, to

the causes immediate, and instrumental: for these are all the causes

they perceive. And hence it comes to pass, that in all places, men that

are grieved with payments to the public, discharge their anger upon the

publicans, that is to say, farmers, collectors, and other officers of

the public revenue; and adhere to such as find fault with the public

government; and thereby, when they have engaged themselves beyond hope

of justification, fall also upon the supreme authority, for fear of

punishment, or shame of receiving pardon.

[Sidenote: Credulity, from ignorance of nature.]

Ignorance of natural causes, disposeth a man to credulity, so as to

believe many times impossibilities: for such know nothing to the

contrary, but that they may be true; being unable to detect the

impossibility. And credulity, because men like to be hearkened unto in

company, disposeth them to lying: so that ignorance itself without

malice, is able to make a man both to believe lies, and tell them; and

sometimes also to invent them.

[Sidenote: Curiosity to know, from care of future time.]

Anxiety for the future time, disposeth men to inquire into the causes of

things: because the knowledge of them, maketh men the better able to

order the present to their best advantage.

[Sidenote: Natural religion from the same.]

Curiosity, or love of the knowledge of causes, draws a man from the

consideration of the effect, to seek the cause; and again, the cause of

that cause; till of necessity he must come to this thought at last, that

there is some cause, whereof there is no former cause, but is eternal;

which is it men call God. So that it is impossible to make any profound

inquiry into natural causes, without being inclined thereby to believe

there is one God eternal; though they cannot have any idea of him in

their mind, answerable to his nature. For as a man that is born blind,

hearing men talk of warming themselves by the fire, and being brought to

warm himself by the same, may easily conceive, and assure himself, there

is somewhat there, which men call _fire_, and is the cause of the heat

he feels; but cannot imagine what it is like; nor have an idea of it in

his mind, such as they have that see it: so also by the visible things

in this world, and their admirable order, a man may conceive there is a

cause of them, which men call God; and yet not have an idea, or image of

him in his mind.

And they that make little, or no inquiry into the natural causes of

things, yet from the fear that proceeds from the ignorance itself, of

what it is that hath the power to do them much good or harm, are

inclined to suppose, and feign unto themselves, several kinds of powers

invisible; and to stand in awe of their own imaginations; and in time of

distress to invoke them; as also in the time of an expected good

success, to give them thanks; making the creatures of their own fancy,

their gods. By which means it hath come to pass, that from the

innumerable variety of fancy, men have created in the world innumerable

sorts of gods. And this fear of things invisible, is the natural seed of

that, which every one in himself calleth religion; and in them that

worship, or fear that power otherwise than they do, superstition.

And this seed of religion, having been observed by many; some of those

that have observed it, have been inclined thereby to nourish, dress, and

form it into laws; and to add to it of their own invention, any opinion

of the causes of future events, by which they thought they should be

best able to govern others, and make unto themselves the greatest use of

their powers.

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CHAPTER XII.

OF RELIGION.

[Sidenote: Religion in man only.]

Seeing there are no signs, nor fruit of _religion_, but in man only;

there it no cause to doubt, but that the seed of _religion_, is also

only in man; and consisteth in some peculiar quality, or at least in

some eminent degree thereof, not to be found in any other living

creatures.

[Sidenote: First, from his desire of knowing causes.]

And first, it is peculiar to the nature of man, to be inquisitive into

the causes of the events they see, some more, some less; but all men so

much, as to be curious in the search of the causes of their own good and

evil fortune.

[Sidenote: From the consideration of the beginning of things.]

Secondly, upon the sight of anything that hath a beginning, to think

also it had a cause, which determined the same to begin, then when it

did, rather than sooner or later.

[Sidenote: From his observation of the sequel of things.]

Thirdly, whereas there is no other felicity of beasts, but the enjoying

of their quotidian food, ease, and lusts; as having little or no

foresight of the time to come, for want of observation, and memory of

the order, consequence, and dependence of the things they see; man

observeth how one event hath been produced by another; and remembereth

in them antecedence and consequence; and when he cannot assure himself

of the true causes of things, (for the causes of good and evil fortune

for the most part are invisible,) he supposes causes of them, either

such as his own fancy suggesteth; or trusteth the authority of other

men, such as he thinks to be his friends, and wiser than himself.

[Sidenote: The natural cause of religion, the anxiety of the time to

come.]

The two first, make anxiety. For being assured that there be causes of

all things that have arrived hitherto, or shall arrive hereafter; it is

impossible for a man, who continually endeavoureth to secure himself

against the evil he fears, and procure the good he desireth, not to be

in a perpetual solicitude of the time to come; so that every man,

especially those that are over provident, are in a state like to that of

Prometheus. For as Prometheus, which interpreted, is, _the prudent man_,

was bound to the hill Caucasus, a place of large prospect, where, an

eagle feeding on his liver, devoured in the day, as much as was repaired

in the night: so that man, which looks too far before him, in the care

of future time, hath his heart all the day long, gnawed on by fear of

death, poverty, or other calamity; and has no repose, nor pause of his

anxiety, but in sleep.

[Sidenote: Which makes them fear the power of invisible things.]

This perpetual fear, always accompanying mankind in the ignorance of

causes, as it were in the dark, must needs have for object something.

And therefore when there is nothing to be seen, there is nothing to

accuse, either of their good, or evil fortune, but some _power_, or

agent _invisible_: in which sense perhaps it was, that some of the old

poets said, that the gods were at first created by human fear: which

spoken of the gods, that is to say, of the many gods of the Gentiles, is

very true. But the acknowledging of one God, eternal, infinite, and

omnipotent, may more easily be derived, from the desire men have to know

the causes of natural bodies, and their several virtues, and operations;

than from the fear of what was to befall them in time to come. For he

that from any effect he seeth come to pass, should reason to the next

and immediate cause thereof, and from thence to the cause of that cause,

and plunge himself profoundly in the pursuit of causes; shall at last

come to this, that there must be, as even the heathen philosophers

confessed, one first mover; that is, a first, and an eternal cause of

all things; which is that which men mean by the name of God: and all

this without thought of their fortune; the solicitude whereof, both

inclines to fear, and hinders them from the search of the causes of

other things; and thereby gives occasion of feigning of as many gods, as

there be men that feign them.

[Sidenote: And suppose them incorporeal.]

And for the matter, or substance of the invisible agents, so fancied;

they could not by natural cogitation, fall upon any other conceit, but

that it was the same with that of the soul of man; and that the soul of

man, was of the same substance, with that which appeareth in a dream, to

one that sleepeth; or in a looking-glass, to one that is awake; which,

men not knowing that such apparitions are nothing else but creatures of

the fancy, think to be real, and external substances; and therefore call

them ghosts; as the Latins called them _imagines_, and _umbræ_; and

thought them spirits, that is, thin aerial bodies; and those invisible

agents, which they feared, to be like them; save that they appear, and

vanish when they please. But the opinion that such spirits were

incorporeal, or immaterial, could never enter into the mind of any man

by nature; because, though men may put together words of contradictory

signification, as _spirit_, and _incorporeal_; yet they can never have

the imagination of any thing answering to them: and therefore, men that

by their own meditation, arrive to the acknowledgment of one infinite,

omnipotent, and eternal God, chose rather to confess he is

incomprehensible, and above their understanding, than to define his

nature by _spirit incorporeal_, and then confess their definition to be

unintelligible: or if they give him such a title, it is not

_dogmatically_, with intention to make the divine nature understood; but

_piously_, to honour him with attributes, of significations, as remote

as they can from the grossness of bodies visible.

[Sidenote: But know not the way how they effect anything.]

Then, for the way by which they think these invisible agents wrought

their effects; that is to say, what immediate causes they used, in

bringing things to pass, men that know not what it is that we call

_causing_, that is, almost all men, have no other rule to guess by, but

by observing, and remembering what they have seen to precede the like

effect at some other time, or times before, without seeing between the

antecedent and subsequent event, any dependence or connexion at all: and

therefore from the like things past, they expect the like things to

come; and hope for good or evil luck, superstitiously, from things that

have no part at all in the causing of it: as the Athenians did for their

war at Lepanto, demand another Phormio; the Pompeian faction for their

war in Africa, another Scipio; and others have done in divers other

occasions since. In like manner they attribute their fortune to a

stander by, to a lucky or unlucky place, to words spoken, especially if

the name of God be amongst them; as charming and conjuring, the liturgy

of witches; insomuch as to believe, they have power to turn a stone into

bread, bread into a man, or any thing into any thing.

[Sidenote: But honour them as they honour men.]

Thirdly, for the worship which naturally men exhibit to powers

invisible, it can be no other, but such expressions of their reverence,

as they would use towards men; gifts, petitions, thanks, submission of

body, considerate addresses, sober behaviour, premeditated words,

swearing, that is, assuring one another of their promises, by invoking

them. Beyond that reason suggesteth nothing; but leaves them either to

rest there; or for further ceremonies, to rely on those they believe to

be wiser than themselves.

[Sidenote: And attribute to them all extraordinary events.]

Lastly, concerning how these invisible powers declare to men the things

which shall hereafter come to pass, especially concerning their good or

evil fortune in general, or good or ill success in any particular

undertaking, men are naturally at a stand; save that using to conjecture

of the time to come, by the time past, they are very apt, not only to

take casual things, after one or two encounters, for prognostics of the

like encounter ever after, but also to believe the like prognostics from

other men, of whom they have once conceived a good opinion.

[Sidenote: Four things, natural seeds of religion.]

And in these four things, opinion of ghosts, ignorance of second causes,

devotion towards what men fear, and taking of things casual for

prognostics, consisteth the natural seed of _religion_; which by reason

of the different fancies, judgments, and passions of several men, hath

grown up into ceremonies so different, that those which are used by one

man, are for the most part ridiculous to another.

[Sidenote: Made different by culture.]

For these seeds have received culture from two sorts of men. One sort

have been they, that have nourished, and ordered them, according to

their own invention. The other have done it, by God’s commandment, and

direction: but both sorts have done it, with a purpose to make those men

that relied on them, the more apt to obedience, laws, peace, charity,

and civil society. So that the religion of the former sort, is a part of

human politics; and teacheth part of the duty which earthly kings

require of their subjects. And the religion of the latter sort is divine

politics; and containeth precepts to those that have yielded themselves

subjects in the kingdom of God. Of the former sort, were all the

founders of common-wealths, and the lawgivers of the Gentiles: of the

latter sort, were Abraham, Moses, and our blessed Saviour; by whom have

been derived unto us the laws of the kingdom of God.

[Sidenote: The absurd opinion of Gentilism.]

And for that part of religion, which consisteth in opinions concerning

the nature of powers invisible, there is almost nothing that has a name,

that has not been esteemed amongst the Gentiles, in one place or

another, a god, or devil; or by their poets feigned to be inanimated,

inhabited, or possessed by some spirit or other.

The unformed matter of the world, was a god, by the name of Chaos.

The heaven, the ocean, the planets, the fire, the earth, the winds, were

so many gods.

[Sidenote: The absurd opinion of Gentilism.]

Men, women, a bird, a crocodile, a calf, a dog, a snake, an onion, a

leek, were deified. Besides that, they filled almost all places, with

spirits called _demons_: the plains, with Pan, and Panises, or Satyrs;

the woods, with Fawns, and Nymphs; the sea, with Tritons, and other

Nymphs; every river, and fountain, with a ghost of his name, and with

Nymphs; every house with its _Lares_, or familiars; every man with his

_Genius_; hell with ghosts, and spiritual officers, as Charon, Cerberus,

and the Furies; and in the night time, all places with _larvæ_,

_lemures_, ghosts of men deceased, and a whole kingdom of fairies and

bugbears. They have also ascribed divinity, and built temples to meer

accidents, and qualities; such as are time, night, day, peace, concord,

love, contention, virtue, honour, health, rust, fever, and the like;

which when they prayed for, or against, they prayed to, as if there were

ghosts of those names hanging over their heads, and letting fall, or

withholding that good, or evil, for, or against which they prayed. They

invoked also their own wit, by the name of Muses; their own ignorance,

by the name of Fortune; their own lusts by the name of Cupid; their own

rage, by the name of Furies; their own privy members, by the name of

Priapus; and attributed their pollutions, to Incubi, and Succubæ:

insomuch as there was nothing, which a poet could introduce as a person

in his poem, which they did not make either a _god_, or a _devil_.

The same authors of the religion of the Gentiles, observing the second

ground for religion, which is men’s ignorance of causes; and thereby

their aptness to attribute their fortune to causes, on which there was

no dependence at all apparent, took occasion to obtrude on their

ignorance, instead of second causes, a kind of second and ministerial

gods; ascribing the cause of fecundity, to Venus; the cause of arts, to

Apollo; of subtlety and craft, to Mercury; of tempests and storms, to

Æolus; and of other effects, to other gods; insomuch as there was

amongst the heathen almost as great variety of gods, as of business.

And to the worship, which naturally men conceived fit to be used towards

their gods, namely, oblations, prayers, thanks, and the rest formerly

named; the same legislators of the Gentiles have added their images,

both in picture, and sculpture; that the more ignorant sort, that is to

say, the most part or generality of the people, thinking the gods for

whose representation they were made, were really included, and as it

were housed within them, might so much the more stand in fear of them:

and endowed them with lands, and houses, and officers, and revenues, set

apart from all other human uses; that is, consecrated, and made holy to

those their idols; as caverns, groves, woods, mountains, and whole

islands; and have attributed to them, not only the shapes, some of men,

some of beasts, some of monsters; but also the faculties, and passions

of men and beasts: as sense, speech, sex, lust, generation, and this not

only by mixing one with another, to propagate the kind of gods; but also

by mixing with men, and women, to beget mongrel gods, and but inmates of

heaven, as Bacchus, Hercules, and others; besides anger, revenge, and

other passions of living creatures, and the actions proceeding from

them, as fraud, theft, adultery, sodomy, and any vice that may be taken

for an effect of power, or a cause of pleasure; and all such vices, as

amongst men are taken to be against law, rather than against honour.

Lastly, to the prognostics of time to come; which are naturally, but

conjectures upon experience of time past; and supernaturally, divine

revelation; the same authors of the religion of the Gentiles, partly

upon pretended experience, partly upon pretended revelation, have added

innumerable other superstitious ways of divination; and made men believe

they should find their fortunes, sometimes in the ambiguous or senseless

answers of the priests at Delphi, Delos, Ammon, and other famous

oracles; which answers, were made ambiguous by design, to own the event

both ways; or absurd, by the intoxicating vapour of the place, which is

very frequent in sulphurous caverns: sometimes in the leaves of the

Sybils; of whose prophecies, like those perhaps of Nostradamus (for the

fragments now extant seem to be the invention of later times), there

were some books in reputation in the time of the Roman republic:

sometimes in the insignificant speeches of madmen, supposed to be

possessed with a divine spirit, which possession they called enthusiasm;

and these kinds of foretelling events, were accounted theomancy, or

prophecy: sometimes in the aspect of the stars at their nativity; which

was called horoscopy, and esteemed a part of judiciary astrology:

sometimes in their own hopes and fears, called thumomancy, or presage:

sometimes in the prediction of witches, that pretended conference with

the dead; which is called necromancy, conjuring, and witchcraft; and is

but juggling and confederate knavery: sometimes in the casual flight, or

feeding of birds; called augury: sometimes in the entrails of a

sacrificed beast; which was _aruspicina_: sometimes in dreams: sometimes

in croaking of ravens, or chattering of birds: sometimes in the

lineaments of the face; which was called metoposcopy; or by palmistry in

the lines of the hand; in casual words, called _omina_: sometimes in

monsters, or unusual accidents; as eclipses, comets, rare meteors,

earthquakes, inundations, uncouth births, and the like, which they

called _portenta_, and _ostenta_, because they thought them to portend,

or foreshow some great calamity to come; sometimes, in mere lottery, as

cross and pile; counting holes in a sieve; dipping of verses in Homer,

and Virgil; and innumerable other such vain conceits. So easy are men to

be drawn to believe any thing, from such men as have gotten credit with

them; and can with gentleness, and dexterity, take hold of their fear,

and ignorance.

[Sidenote: The designs of the authors of the religion of the heathen.]

And therefore the first founders, and legislators of commonwealths among

the Gentiles, whose ends were only to keep the people in obedience, and

peace, have in all places taken care; first, to imprint in their minds a

belief, that those precepts which they gave concerning religion, might

not be thought to proceed from their own device, but from the dictates

of some god, or other spirit; or else that they themselves were of a

higher nature than mere mortals, that their laws might the more easily

be received: so Numa Pompilius pretended to receive the ceremonies he

instituted amongst the Romans, from the nymph Egeria: and the first king

and founder of the kingdom of Peru, pretended himself and his wife to be

the children of the Sun; and Mahomet, to set up his new religion,

pretended to have conferences with the Holy Ghost, in form of a dove.

Secondly, they have had a care, to make it believed, that the same

things were displeasing to the gods, which were forbidden by the laws.

Thirdly, to prescribe ceremonies, supplications, sacrifices, and

festivals, by which they were to believe, the anger of the gods might be

appeased; and that ill success in war, great contagions of sickness,

earthquakes, and each man’s private misery, came from the anger of the

gods, and their anger from the neglect of their worship, or the

forgetting, or mistaking some point of the ceremonies required. And

though amongst the ancient Romans, men were not forbidden to deny, that

which in the poets is written of the pains, and pleasures after this

life: which divers of great authority, and gravity in that state have in

their harangues openly derided; yet that belief was always more

cherished, than the contrary.

And by these, and such other institutions, they obtained in order to

their end, which was the peace of the commonwealth, that the common

people in their misfortunes, laying the fault on neglect, or error in

their ceremonies, or on their own disobedience to the laws, were the

less apt to mutiny against their governors; and being entertained with

the pomp, and pastime of festivals, and public games, made in honour of

the gods, needed nothing else but bread to keep them from discontent,

murmuring, and commotion against the state. And therefore the Romans,

that had conquered the greatest part of the then known world, made no

scruple of tolerating any religion whatsoever in the city of Rome

itself; unless it had something in it, that could not consist with their

civil government; nor do we read, that any religion was there forbidden,

but that of the Jews; who, being the peculiar kingdom of God, thought it

unlawful to acknowledge subjection to any mortal king or state

whatsoever. And thus you see how the religion of the Gentiles was a part

of their policy.

[Sidenote: The true religion and the laws of God’s kingdom the same.]

But where God himself, by supernatural revelation, planted religion;

there he also made to himself a peculiar kingdom: and gave laws, not

only of behaviour towards himself, but also towards one another; and

thereby in the kingdom of God, the policy, and laws civil, are a part of

religion; and therefore the distinction of temporal, and spiritual

domination, hath there no place. It is true, that God is king of all the

earth: yet may he be king of a peculiar, and chosen nation. For there is

no more incongruity therein, than that he that hath the general command

of the whole army, should have withal a peculiar regiment, or company of

his own. God is king of all the earth by his power: but of his chosen

people, he is king by covenant. But to speak more largely of the kingdom

of God, both by nature, and covenant, I have in the following discourse

assigned another place (chapter XXXV.)

From the propagation of religion, it is not hard to understand the

causes of the resolution of the same into its first seeds, or

principles; which are only an opinion of a deity, and powers invisible,

and supernatural; that can never be so abolished out of human nature,

but that new religions may again be made to spring out of them, by the

culture of such men, as for such purpose are in reputation.

[Sidenote: The causes of change in religion.]

For seeing all formed religion, is founded at first, upon the faith

which a multitude hath in some one person, whom they believe not only to

be a wise man, and to labour to procure their happiness, but also to be

a holy man, to whom God himself vouchsafeth to declare his will

supernaturally; it followeth necessarily, when they that have the

government of religion, shall come to have either the wisdom of those

men, their sincerity, or their love suspected; or when they shall be

unable to show any probable token of divine revelation; that the

religion which they desire to uphold, must be suspected likewise; and,

without the fear of the civil sword, contradicted and rejected.

[Sidenote: Enjoining belief of impossibilities.]

That which taketh away the reputation of wisdom, in him that formeth a

religion, or addeth to it when it is already formed, is the enjoining of

a belief of contradictories: for both parts of a contradiction cannot

possibly be true: and therefore to enjoin the belief of them, is an

argument of ignorance; which detects the author in that; and discredits

him in all things else he shall propound as from revelation

supernatural: which revelation a man may indeed have of many things

above, but of nothing against natural reason.

[Sidenote: Doing contrary to the religion they establish.]

That which taketh away the reputation of sincerity, is the doing or

saying of such things, as appear to be signs, that what they require

other men to believe, is not believed by themselves; all which doings,

or sayings are therefore called scandalous, because they be stumbling

blocks, that make men to fall in the way of religion; as injustice,

cruelty, profaneness, avarice, and luxury. For who can believe, that he

that doth ordinarily such actions as proceed from any of these roots,

believeth there is any such invisible power to be feared, as he

affrighteth other men withal, for lesser faults?

That which taketh away the reputation of love, is the being detected of

private ends: as when the belief they require of others, conduceth or

seemeth to conduce to the acquiring of dominion, riches, dignity, or

secure pleasure, to themselves only, or specially. For that which men

reap benefit by to themselves, they are thought to do for their own

sakes, and not for love of others.

[Sidenote: Want of the testimony of miracles.]

Lastly, the testimony that men can render of divine calling, can be no

other, than the operation of miracles; or true prophecy, which also is a

miracle; or extraordinary felicity. And therefore, to those points of

religion, which have been received from them that did such miracles;

those that are added by such, as approve not their calling by some

miracle, obtain no greater belief, than what the custom and laws of the

places, in which they be educated, have wrought into them. For as in

natural things, men of judgment require natural signs, and arguments; so

in supernatural things, they require signs supernatural, which are

miracles, before they consent inwardly, and from their hearts.

All which causes of the weakening of men’s faith, do manifestly appear

in the examples following. First, we have the example of the children of

Israel; who when Moses, that had approved his calling to them by

miracles, and by the happy conduct of them out of Egypt, was absent but

forty days, revolted from the worship of the true God, recommended to

them by him; and setting up (_Exod._ xxxiii. 1, 2) a golden calf for

their god, relapsed into the idolatry of the Egyptians; from whom they

had been so lately delivered. And again, after Moses, Aaron, Joshua, and

that generation which had seen the great works of God in Israel,

(_Judges_ ii. 11) were dead; another generation arose, and served Baal.

So that miracles failing, faith also failed.

Again, when the sons of Samuel, (_1 Sam._ viii. 3) being constituted by

their father judges in Bersabee, received bribes, and judged unjustly,

the people of Israel refused any more to have God to be their king, in

other manner than he was king of other people; and therefore cried out

to Samuel, to choose them a king after the manner of the nations. So

that justice failing, faith also failed: insomuch, as they deposed their

God, from reigning over them.

And whereas in the planting of Christian religion, the oracles ceased in

all parts of the Roman empire, and the number of Christians increased

wonderfully every day, and in every place, by the preaching of the

Apostles, and Evangelists; a great part of that success, may reasonably

be attributed, to the contempt, into which the priests of the Gentiles

of that time, had brought themselves, by their uncleanness, avarice, and

juggling between princes. Also the religion of the church of Rome, was

partly, for the same cause abolished in England, and many other parts of

Christendom; insomuch, as the failing of virtue in the pastors, maketh

faith fail in the people: and partly from bringing of the philosophy,

and doctrine of Aristotle into religion, by the Schoolmen; from whence

there arose so many contradictions, and absurdities, as brought the

clergy into a reputation both of ignorance, and of fraudulent intention;

and inclined people to revolt from them, either against the will of

their own princes, as in France and Holland; or with their will, as in

England.

Lastly, amongst the points by the church of Rome declared necessary for

salvation, there be so many, manifestly to the advantage of the Pope,

and of his spiritual subjects, residing in the territories of other

Christian princes, that were it not for the mutual emulation of those

princes, they might without war, or trouble, exclude all foreign

authority, as easily as it has been excluded in England. For who is

there that does not see, to whose benefit it conduceth, to have it

believed, that a king hath not his authority from Christ, unless a

bishop crown him? That a king, if he be a priest, cannot marry? That

whether a prince be born in lawful marriage, or not, must be judged by

authority from Rome? That subjects may be freed from their allegiance,

if by the court of Rome, the king be judged an heretic? That a king, as

Chilperic of France, may be deposed by a pope, as Pope Zachary, for no

cause; and his kingdom given to one of his subjects? That the clergy and

regulars, in what country soever, shall be exempt from the jurisdiction

of their king in cases criminal? Or who does not see, to whose profit

redound the fees of private masses, and vales of purgatory; with other

signs of private interest, enough to mortify the most lively faith, if,

as I said, the civil magistrate, and custom did not more sustain it,

than any opinion they have of the sanctity, wisdom, or probity of their

teachers? So that I may attribute all the changes of religion in the

world, to one and the same cause; and that is, unpleasing priests; and

those not only amongst Catholics, but even in that church that hath

presumed most of reformation.

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CHAPTER XIII.

OF THE NATURAL CONDITION OF MANKIND AS

CONCERNING THEIR FELICITY, AND MISERY.

[Sidenote: Men by nature equal.]

Nature hath made men so equal, in the faculties of the body, and mind;

as that though there be found one man sometimes manifestly stronger in

body, or of quicker mind than another; yet when all is reckoned

together, the difference between man, and man, is not so considerable,

as that one man can thereupon claim to himself any benefit, to which

another may not pretend, as well as he. For as to the strength of body,

the weakest has strength enough to kill the strongest, either by secret

machination, or by confederacy with others, that are in the same danger

with himself.

And as to the faculties of the mind, setting aside the arts grounded

upon words, and especially that skill of proceeding upon general, and

infallible rules, called science; which very few have, and but in few

things; as being not a native faculty, born with us; nor attained, as

prudence, while we look after somewhat else, I find yet a greater

equality amongst men, than that of strength. For prudence, is but

experience; which equal time, equally bestows on all men, in those

things they equally apply themselves unto. That which may perhaps make

such equality incredible, is but a vain conceit of one’s own wisdom,

which almost all men think they have in a greater degree, than the

vulgar; that is, than all men but themselves, and a few others, whom by

fame, or for concurring with themselves, they approve. For such is the

nature of men, that howsoever they may acknowledge many others to be

more witty, or more eloquent, or more learned; yet they will hardly

believe there be many so wise as themselves; for they see their own wit

at hand, and other men’s at a distance. But this proveth rather that men

are in that point equal, than unequal. For there is not ordinarily a

greater sign of the equal distribution of any thing, than that every man

is contented with his share.

[Sidenote: From equality proceeds diffidence.]

From this equality of ability, ariseth equality of hope in the attaining

of our ends. And therefore if any two men desire the same thing, which

nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies; and in the way

to their end, which is principally their own conservation, and sometimes

their delectation only, endeavour to destroy, or subdue one another. And

from hence it comes to pass, that where an invader hath no more to fear,

than another man’s single power; if one plant, sow, build, or possess a

convenient seat, others may probably be expected to come prepared with

forces united, to dispossess, and deprive him, not only of the fruit of

his labour, but also of his life, or liberty. And the invader again is

in the like danger of another.

[Sidenote: From diffidence war.]

And from this diffidence of one another, there is no way for any man to

secure himself, so reasonable, as anticipation; that is, by force, or

wiles, to master the persons of all men he can, so long, till he see no

other power great enough to endanger him: and this is no more than his

own conservation requireth, and is generally allowed. Also because there

be some, that taking pleasure in contemplating their own power in the

acts of conquest, which they pursue farther than their security

requires; if others, that otherwise would be glad to be at ease within

modest bounds, should not by invasion increase their power, they would

not be able, long time, by standing only on their defence, to subsist.

And by consequence, such augmentation of dominion over men being

necessary to a man’s conservation, it ought to be allowed him.

Again, men have no pleasure, but on the contrary a great deal of grief,

in keeping company, where there is no power able to over-awe them all.

For every man looketh that his companion should value him, at the same

rate he sets upon himself: and upon all signs of contempt, or

undervaluing, naturally endeavours, as far as he dares, (which amongst

them that have no common power to keep them in quiet, is far enough to

make them destroy each other), to extort a greater value from his

contemners, by damage; and from others, by the example.

So that in the nature of man, we find three principal causes of quarrel.

First, competition; secondly, diffidence; thirdly, glory.

The first, maketh men invade for gain; the second, for safety; and the

third, for reputation. The first use violence, to make themselves

masters of other men’s persons, wives, children, and cattle; the second,

to defend them; the third, for trifles, as a word, a smile, a different

opinion, and any other sign of undervalue, either direct in their

persons, or by reflection in their kindred, their friends, their nation,

their profession, or their name.

[Sidenote: Out of civil states, there is always war of every one against

every one.]

Hereby it is manifest, that during the time men live without a common

power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is

called war; and such a war, as is of every man, against every man. For

WAR, consisteth not in battle only, or the act of fighting; but in a

tract of time, wherein the will to contend by battle is sufficiently

known: and therefore the notion of _time_, is to be considered in the

nature of war; as it is in the nature of weather. For as the nature of

foul weather, lieth not in a shower or two of rain; but in an

inclination thereto of many days together: so the nature of war,

consisteth not in actual fighting; but in the known disposition thereto,

during all the time there is no assurance to the contrary. All other

time is PEACE.

[Sidenote: The incommodities of such a war.]

Whatsoever therefore is consequent to a time of war, where every man is

enemy to every man; the same is consequent to the time, wherein men live

without other security, than what their own strength, and their own

invention shall furnish them withal. In such condition, there is no

place for industry; because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and

consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the

commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no

instruments of moving, and removing, such things as require much force;

no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no

letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and

danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty,

brutish, and short.

It may seem strange to some man, that has not well weighed these things;

that nature should thus dissociate, and render men apt to invade, and

destroy one another: and he may therefore, not trusting to this

inference, made from the passions, desire perhaps to have the same

confirmed by experience. Let him therefore consider with himself, when

taking a journey, he arms himself, and seeks to go well accompanied;

when going to sleep, he locks his doors; when even in his house he locks

his chests; and this when he knows there be laws, and public officers,

armed, to revenge all injuries shall be done him; what opinion he has of

his fellow-subjects, when he rides armed; of his fellow citizens, when

he locks his doors; and of his children, and servants, when he locks his

chests. Does he not there as much accuse mankind by his actions, as I do

by my words? But neither of us accuse man’s nature in it. The desires,

and other passions of man, are in themselves no sin. No more are the

actions, that proceed from those passions, till they know a law that

forbids them: which till laws be made they cannot know: nor can any law

be made, till they have agreed upon the person that shall make it.

It may peradventure be thought, there was never such a time, nor

condition of war as this; and I believe it was never generally so, over

all the world: but there are many places, where they live so now. For

the savage people in many places of America, except the government of

small families, the concord whereof dependeth on natural lust, have no

government at all; and live at this day in that brutish manner, as I

said before. Howsoever, it may be perceived what manner of life there

would be, where there were no common power to fear, by the manner of

life, which men that have formerly lived under a peaceful government,

use to degenerate into, in a civil war.

But though there had never been any time, wherein particular men were in

a condition of war one against another; yet in all times, kings, and

persons of sovereign authority, because of their independency, are in

continual jealousies, and in the state and posture of gladiators; having

their weapons pointing, and their eyes fixed on one another; that is,

their forts, garrisons, and guns upon the frontiers of their kingdoms;

and continual spies upon their neighbours; which is a posture of war.

But because they uphold thereby, the industry of their subjects; there

does not follow from it, that misery, which accompanies the liberty of

particular men.

[Sidenote: In such a war nothing is unjust.]

To this war of every man, against every man, this also is consequent;

that nothing can be unjust. The notions of right and wrong, justice and

injustice have there no place. Where there is no common power, there is

no law: where no law, no injustice. Force, and fraud, are in war the two

cardinal virtues. Justice, and injustice are none of the faculties

neither of the body, nor mind. If they were, they might be in a man that

were alone in the world, as well as his senses, and passions. They are

qualities, that relate to men in society, not in solitude. It is

consequent also to the same condition, that there be no propriety, no

dominion, no _mine_ and _thine_ distinct; but only that to be every

man’s, that he can get; and for so long, as he can keep it. And thus

much for the ill condition, which man by mere nature is actually placed

in; though with a possibility to come out of it, consisting partly in

the passions, partly in his reason.

[Sidenote: The passions that incline men to peace.]

The passions that incline men to peace, are fear of death; desire of

such things as are necessary to commodious living; and a hope by their

industry to obtain them. And reason suggesteth convenient articles of

peace, upon which men may be drawn to agreement. These articles, are

they, which otherwise are called the Laws of Nature: whereof I shall

speak more particularly, in the two following chapters.

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CHAPTER XIV.

OF THE FIRST AND SECOND NATURAL LAWS, AND

OF CONTRACTS.

[Sidenote: Right of nature what.]

The RIGHT OF NATURE, which writers commonly call _jus naturale_, is the

liberty each man hath, to use his own power, as he will himself, for the

preservation of his own nature; that is to say, of his own life; and

consequently, of doing any thing, which in his own judgment, and reason,

he shall conceive to be the aptest means thereunto.

[Sidenote: Liberty what.]

By LIBERTY, is understood, according to the proper signification of the

word, the absence of external impediments: which impediments, may oft

take away part of a man’s power to do what he would; but cannot hinder

him from using the power left him, according as his judgment, and reason

shall dictate to him.

[Sidenote: A law of nature what.]

A LAW OF NATURE, _lex naturalis_, is a precept or general rule, found

out by reason, by which a man is forbidden to do that, which is

destructive of his life, or taketh away the means of preserving the

same; and to omit that, by which he thinketh it may be best preserved.

For though they that speak of this subject, use to confound _jus_, and

_lex_, _right_ and _law_: [Sidenote: Difference of right and law.] yet

they ought to be distinguished; because RIGHT, consisteth in liberty to

do, or to forbear; whereas LAW, determineth, and bindeth to one of them:

so that law, and right, differ as much, as obligation, and liberty;

which in one and the same matter are inconsistent.

[Sidenote: Naturally every man has right to every thing.]

And because the condition of man, as hath been declared in the precedent

chapter, is a condition of war of every one against every one; in which

case every one is governed by his own reason; and there is nothing he

can make use of, that may not be a help unto him, in preserving his life

against his enemies; it followeth, that in such a condition, every man

has a right to every thing; even to one another’s body. And therefore,

as long as this natural right of every man to every thing endureth,

there can be no security to any man, how strong or wise soever he be, of

living out the time, which nature ordinarily alloweth men to live.

[Sidenote: The fundamental law of nature.] And consequently it is a

precept, or general rule of reason, _that every man, ought to endeavour

peace, as far as he has hope of obtaining it; and when he cannot obtain

it, that he may seek, and use, all helps, and advantages of war_. The

first branch of which rule, containeth the first, and fundamental law of

nature; which is, _to seek peace, and follow it_. The second, the sum of

the right of nature; which is, _by all means we can, to defend

ourselves_.

[Sidenote: The second law of nature.]

From this fundamental law of nature, by which men are commanded to

endeavour peace, is derived this second law; _that a man be willing,

when others are so too, as far-forth, as for peace, and defence of

himself he shall think it necessary, to lay down this right to all

things; and be contented with so much liberty against other men, as he

would allow other men against himself_. For as long as every man holdeth

this right, of doing any thing he liketh; so long are all men in the

condition of war. But if other men will not lay down their right, as

well as he; then there is no reason for any one, to divest himself of

his: for that were to expose himself to prey, which no man is bound to,

rather than to dispose himself to peace. This is that law of the Gospel;

_whatsoever you require that others should do to you, that do ye to

them_. And that law of all men, _quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri ne

feceris_.

[Sidenote: What it is to lay down a right.]

To _lay down_ a man’s _right_ to any thing, is to _divest_ himself of

the _liberty_, of hindering another of the benefit of his own right to

the same. For he that renounceth, or passeth away his right, giveth not

to any other man a right which he had not before; because there is

nothing to which every man had not right by nature: but only standeth

out of his way, that he may enjoy his own original right, without

hindrance from him; not without hindrance from another. So that the

effect which redoundeth to one man, by another man’s defect of right, is

but so much diminution of impediments to the use of his own right

original.

[Sidenote: Renouncing a right, what it is.]

Right is laid aside, either by simply renouncing it; or by transferring

it to another. By _simply_ RENOUNCING; when he cares not to whom the

benefit thereof redoundeth. [Sidenote: Transferring right what.

Obligation.] By TRANSFERRING; when he intendeth the benefit thereof to

some certain person, or persons. And when a man hath in either manner

abandoned, or granted away his right; then is he said to be OBLIGED, or

BOUND, not to hinder those, to whom such right is granted, or abandoned,

from the benefit of it: and that he _ought_, [Sidenote: Duty.] and it is

his DUTY, not to make void that voluntary act of his own: [Sidenote:

Injustice.] and that such hindrance is INJUSTICE, and INJURY, as being

_sine jure_; the right being before renounced, or transferred. So that

_injury_, or _injustice_, in the controversies of the world, is somewhat

like to that, which in the disputations of scholars is called

_absurdity_. For as it is there called an absurdity, to contradict what

one maintained in the beginning: so in the world, it is called

injustice, and injury, voluntarily to undo that, which from the

beginning he had voluntarily done. The way by which a man either simply

renounceth, or transferreth his right, is a declaration, or

signification, by some voluntary and sufficient sign, or signs, that he

doth so renounce, or transfer; or hath so renounced, or transferred the

same, to him that accepteth it. And these signs are either words only,

or actions only; or, as it happeneth most often, both words, and

actions. And the same are the BONDS, by which men are bound, and

obliged: bonds, that have their strength, not from their own nature, for

nothing is more easily broken than a man’s word, but from fear of some

evil consequence upon the rupture.

[Sidenote: Not all rights are alienable.]

Whensoever a man transferreth his right, or renounceth it; it is either

in consideration of some right reciprocally transferred to himself; or

for some other good he hopeth for thereby. For it is a voluntary act:

and of the voluntary acts of every man, the object is some _good to

himself_. And therefore there be some rights, which no man can be

understood by any words, or other signs, to have abandoned, or

transferred. As first a man cannot lay down the right of resisting them,

that assault him by force, to take away his life; because he cannot be

understood to aim thereby, at any good to himself. The same may be said

of wounds, and chains, and imprisonment; both because there is no

benefit consequent to such patience; as there is to the patience of

suffering another to be wounded, or imprisoned: as also because a man

cannot tell, when he seeth men proceed against him by violence, whether

they intend his death or not. And lastly the motive, and end for which

this renouncing, and transferring of right is introduced, is nothing

else but the security of a man’s person, in his life, and in the means

of so preserving life, as not to be weary of it. And therefore if a man

by words, or other signs, seem to despoil himself of the end, for which

those signs were intended; he is not to be understood as if he meant it,

or that it was his will; but that he was ignorant of how such words and

actions were to be interpreted.

[Sidenote: Contract what.]

The mutual transferring of right, is that which men call CONTRACT.

There is difference between transferring of right to the thing; and

transferring, or tradition, that is delivery of the thing itself. For

the thing may be delivered together with the translation of the right;

as in buying and selling with ready-money; or exchange of goods, or

lands: and it may be delivered some time after.

[Sidenote: Covenant what.]

Again, one of the contractors, may deliver the thing contracted for on

his part, and leave the other to perform his part at some determinate

time after, and in the mean time be trusted; and then the contract on

his part, is called PACT, or COVENANT: or both parts may contract now,

to perform hereafter: in which cases, he that is to perform in time to

come, being trusted, his performance is called _keeping of promise_, or

faith; and the failing of performance, if it be voluntary, _violation of

faith_.

[Sidenote: Free-gift.]

When the transferring of right, is not mutual: but one of the parties

transferreth, in hope to gain thereby friendship, or service from

another, or from his friends; or in hope to gain the reputation of

charity, or magnanimity; or to deliver his mind from the pain of

compassion; or in hope of reward in heaven; this is not contract, but

GIFT, FREE-GIFT, GRACE: which words signify one and the same thing.

[Sidenote: Signs of contract express.]

Signs of contract, are either _express_, or _by inference_. Express, are

words spoken with understanding of what they signify: and such words are

either of the time _present_, or _past_; as, _I give_, _I grant_, _I

have given_, _I have granted_, _I will that this be yours_: or of the

future; as, _I will give_, _I will grant_: [Sidenote: Promise.] which

words of the future are called PROMISE.

[Sidenote: Signs of contract by inference.]

Signs by inference, are sometimes the consequence of words; sometimes

the consequence of silence; sometimes the consequence of actions;

sometimes the consequence of forbearing an action: and generally a sign

by inference, of any contract, is whatsoever sufficiently argues the

will of the contractor.

[Sidenote: Free gift passeth by words of the present or past.]

Words alone, if they be of the time to come, and contain a bare promise,

are an insufficient sign of a free-gift, and therefore not obligatory.

For if they be of the time to come, as _to-morrow I will give_, they are

a sign I have not given yet, and consequently that my right is not

transferred, but remaineth till I transfer it by some other act. But if

the words be of the time present, or past, as, _I have given_, or, _do

give to be delivered to-morrow_, then is my to-morrow’s right given away

to day; and that by the virtue of the words, though there were no other

argument of my will. And there is a great difference in the

signification of these words, _volo hoc tuum esse cras_, and _cras

dabo_; that is, between _I will that this be thine to-morrow_, and, _I

will give it thee to-morrow_: for the word _I will_, in the former

manner of speech, signifies an act of the will present; but in the

latter, it signifies a promise of an act of the will to come: and

therefore the former words, being of the present, transfer a future

right; the latter, that be of the future, transfer nothing. But if there

be other signs of the will to transfer a right, besides words; then,

though the gift be free, yet may the right be understood to pass by

words of the future: as if a man propound a prize to him that comes

first to the end of a race, the gift is free; and though the words be of

the future, yet the right passeth: for if he would not have his words so

be understood, he should not have let them run.

[Sidenote: Signs of contract are words both of the past, present, and

future.]

In contracts, the right passeth, not only where the words are of the

time present, or past, but also where they are of the future: because

all contract is mutual translation, or change of right; and therefore he

that promiseth only, because he hath already received the benefit for

which he promiseth, is to be understood as if he intended the right

should pass: for unless he had been content to have his words so

understood, the other would not have performed his part first. And for

that cause, in buying, and selling, and other acts of contract, a

promise is equivalent to a covenant; and therefore obligatory.

[Sidenote: Merit what.]

He that performeth first in the case of a contract, is said to MERIT

that which he is to receive by the performance of the other; and he hath

it as _due_. Also when a prize is propounded to many, which is to be

given to him only that winneth; or money is thrown amongst many, to be

enjoyed by them that catch it; though this be a free gift; yet so to

win, or so to catch, is to _merit_, and to have it as DUE. For the right

is transferred in the propounding of the prize, and in throwing down the

money; though it be not determined to whom, but by the event of the

contention. But there is between these two sorts of merit, this

difference, that in contract, I merit by virtue of my own power, and the

contractor’s need; but in this case of free gift, I am enabled to merit

only by the benignity of the giver: in contract, I merit at the

contractor’s hand that he should depart with his right; in this case of

gift, I merit not that the giver should part with his right; but that

when he has parted with it, it should be mine, rather than another’s.

And this I think to be the meaning of that distinction of the Schools,

between _meritum congrui_, and _meritum condigni_. For God Almighty,

having promised Paradise to those men, hoodwinked with carnal desires,

that can walk through this world according to the precepts, and limits

prescribed by him; they say, he that shall so walk, shall merit Paradise

_ex congruo_. But because no man can demand a right to it, by his own

righteousness, or any other power in himself, but by the free grace of

God only; they say, no man can merit Paradise _ex condigno_. This I say,

I think is the meaning of that distinction; but because disputers do not

agree upon the signification of their own terms of art, longer than it

serves their turn; I will not affirm any thing of their meaning: only

this I say; when a gift is given indefinitely, as a prize to be

contended for, he that winneth meriteth, and may claim the prize as due.

[Sidenote: Covenants of mutual trust, when invalid.]

If a covenant be made, wherein neither of the parties perform presently,

but trust one another; in the condition of mere nature, which is a

condition of war of every man against every man, upon any reasonable

suspicion, it is void: but if there be a common power set over them

both, with right and force sufficient to compel performance, it is not

void. For he that performeth first, has no assurance the other will

perform after; because the bonds of words are too weak to bridle men’s

ambition, avarice, anger, and other passions, without the fear of some

coercive power; which in the condition of mere nature, where all men are

equal, and judges of the justness of their own fears, cannot possibly be

supposed. And therefore he which performeth first, does but betray

himself to his enemy; contrary to the right, he can never abandon, of

defending his life, and means of living.

But in a civil estate, where there is a power set up to constrain those

that would otherwise violate their faith, that fear is no more

reasonable; and for that cause, he which by the covenant is to perform

first, is obliged so to do.

The cause of fear, which maketh such a covenant invalid, must be always

something arising after the covenant made; as some new fact, or other

sign of the will not to perform: else it cannot make the covenant void.

For that which could not hinder a man from promising, ought not to be

admitted as a hindrance of performing.

[Sidenote: Right to the end, containeth right to the means.]

He that transferreth any right, transferreth the means of enjoying it,

as far as lieth in his power. As he that selleth land, is understood to

transfer the herbage, and whatsoever grows upon it: nor can he that

sells a mill turn away the stream that drives it. And they that give to

a man the right of government in sovereignty, are understood to give him

the right of levying money to maintain soldiers; and of appointing

magistrates for the administration of justice.

[Sidenote: No covenant with beasts.]

To make covenants with brute beasts, is impossible; because not

understanding our speech, they understand not, nor accept of any

translation of right; nor can translate any right to another: and

without mutual acceptation, there is no covenant.

[Sidenote: Nor with God without special revelation.]

To make covenant with God, is impossible, but by mediation of such as

God speaketh to, either by revelation supernatural, or by his

lieutenants that govern under him, and in his name: for otherwise we

know not whether our covenants be accepted, or not. And therefore they

that vow anything contrary to any law of nature, vow in vain; as being a

thing unjust to pay such vow. And if it be a thing commanded by the law

of nature, it is not the vow, but the law that binds them.

[Sidenote: No covenant, but of possible and future.]

The matter, or subject of a covenant, is always something that falleth

under deliberation; for to covenant, is an act of the will; that is to

say, an act, and the last act of deliberation; and is therefore always

understood to be something to come; and which is judged possible for him

that covenanteth, to perform.

And therefore, to promise that which is known to be impossible, is no

covenant. But if that prove impossible afterwards, which before was

thought possible, the covenant is valid, and bindeth, though not to the

thing itself, yet to the value; or, if that also be impossible, to the

unfeigned endeavour of performing as much as is possible: for to more no

man can be obliged.

[Sidenote: Covenants how made void.]

Men are freed of their covenants two ways; by performing; or by being

forgiven. For performance, is the natural end of obligation; and

forgiveness, the restitution of liberty; as being a retransferring of

that right, in which the obligation consisted.

[Sidenote: Covenants extorted by fear are valid.]

Covenants entered into by fear, in the condition of mere nature, are

obligatory. For example, if I covenant to pay a ransom, or service for

my life, to an enemy; I am bound by it: for it is a contract, wherein

one receiveth the benefit of life; the other is to receive money, or

service for it; and consequently, where no other law, as in the

condition of mere nature, forbiddeth the performance, the covenant is

valid. Therefore prisoners of war, if trusted with the payment of their

ransom, are obliged to pay it: and if a weaker prince, make a

disadvantageous peace with a stronger, for fear; he is bound to keep it;

unless, as hath been said before, there ariseth some new, and just cause

of fear, to renew the war. And even in commonwealths, if I be forced to

redeem myself from a thief by promising him money, I am bound to pay it,

till the civil law discharge me. For whatsoever I may lawfully do

without obligation, the same I may lawfully covenant to do through fear:

and what I lawfully covenant, I cannot lawfully break.

[Sidenote: The former covenant to one, makes void the later to another.]

A former covenant, makes void a later. For a man that hath passed away

his right to one man to-day, hath it not to pass to-morrow to another:

and therefore the later promise passeth no right, but is null.

[Sidenote: A man’s covenant not to defend himself is void.]

A covenant not to defend myself from force, by force, is always void.

For, as I have showed before, no man can transfer, or lay down his right

to save himself from death, wounds, and imprisonment, the avoiding

whereof is the only end of laying down any right; and therefore the

promise of not resisting force, in no covenant transferreth any right;

nor is obliging. For though a man may covenant thus, _unless I do so, or

so, kill me_; he cannot covenant thus, _unless I do so, or so, I will

not resist you, when you come to kill me_. For man by nature chooseth

the lesser evil, which is danger of death in resisting; rather than the

greater, which is certain and present death in not resisting. And this

is granted to be true by all men, in that they lead criminals to

execution, and prison, with armed men, notwithstanding that such

criminals have consented to the law, by which they are condemned.

[Sidenote: No man obliged to accuse himself.]

A covenant to accuse oneself, without assurance of pardon, is likewise

invalid. For in the condition of nature, where every man is judge, there

is no place for accusation: and in the civil state, the accusation is

followed with punishment; which being force, a man is not obliged not to

resist. The same is also true, of the accusation of those, by whose

condemnation a man falls into misery; as of a father, wife, or

benefactor. For the testimony of such an accuser, if it be not willingly

given, is presumed to be corrupted by nature; and therefore not to be

received: and where a man’s testimony is not to be credited, he is not

bound to give it. Also accusations upon torture, are not to be reputed

as testimonies. For torture is to be used but as means of conjecture,

and light, in the further examination, and search of truth: and what is

in that case confessed, tendeth to the ease of him that is tortured; not

to the informing of the torturers: and therefore ought not to have the

credit of a sufficient testimony: for whether he deliver himself by

true, or false accusation, he does it by the right of preserving his own

life.

[Sidenote: The end of an oath.]

The force of words, being, as I have formerly noted, too weak to hold

men to the performance of their covenants; there are in man’s nature,

but two imaginable helps to strengthen it. And those are either a fear

of the consequence of breaking their word; or a glory, or pride in

appearing not to need to break it. This latter is a generosity too

rarely found to be presumed on, especially in the pursuers of wealth,

command, or sensual pleasure; which are the greatest part of mankind.

The passion to be reckoned upon, is fear; whereof there be two very

general objects: one, the power of spirits invisible; the other, the

power of those men they shall therein offend. Of these two, though the

former be the greater power, yet the fear of the latter is commonly the

greater fear. The fear of the former is in every man, his own religion:

which hath place in the nature of man before civil society. The latter

hath not so; at least not place enough, to keep men to their promises;

because in the condition of mere nature, the inequality of power is not

discerned, but by the event of battle. So that before the time of civil

society, or in the interruption thereof by war, there is nothing can

strengthen a covenant of peace agreed on, against the temptations of

avarice, ambition, lust, or other strong desire, but the fear of that

invisible power, which they every one worship as God; and fear as a

revenger of their perfidy. All therefore that can be done between two

men not subject to civil power, is to put one another to swear by the

God he feareth: [Sidenote: The form of an oath.] which _swearing_, or

OATH, is a _form of speech, added to a promise; by which he that

promiseth, signifieth, that unless he perform, he renounceth the mercy

of his God, or calleth to him for vengeance on himself_. Such was the

heathen form, _Let_ Jupiter _kill me else, as I kill this beast_. So is

our form, _I shall do thus, and thus, so help me God_. And this, with

the rites and ceremonies, which every one useth in his own religion,

that the fear of breaking faith might be the greater.

[Sidenote: No oath but by God.]

By this it appears, that an oath taken according to any other form, or

rite, than his, that sweareth, is in vain; and no oath: and that there

is no swearing by any thing which the swearer thinks not God. For though

men have sometimes used to swear by their kings, for fear, or flattery;

yet they would have it thereby understood, they attributed to them

divine honour. And that swearing unnecessarily by God, is but prophaning

of his name: and swearing by other things, as men do in common

discourse, is not swearing, but an impious custom, gotten by too much

vehemence of talking.

[Sidenote: An oath adds nothing to the obligation.]

It appears also, that the oath adds nothing to the obligation. For a

covenant, if lawful, binds in the sight of God, without the oath, as

much as with it: if unlawful, bindeth not at all; though it be confirmed

with an oath.

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CHAPTER XV.

OF OTHER LAWS OF NATURE.

[Sidenote: The third law of nature, justice.]

From that law of nature, by which we are obliged to transfer to another,

such rights, as being retained, hinder the peace of mankind, there

followeth a third; which is this, _that men perform their covenants

made_: without which, covenants are in vain, and but empty words; and

the right of all men to all things remaining, we are still in the

condition of war.

[Sidenote: Justice and injustice what.]

And in this law of nature, consisteth the fountain and original of

JUSTICE. For where no covenant hath preceded, there hath no right been

transferred, and every man has right to every thing; and consequently,

no action can be unjust. But when a covenant is made, then to break it

is _unjust_: and the definition of INJUSTICE, is no other than _the not

performance of covenant_. And whatsoever is not unjust, is _just_.

[Sidenote: Justice and propriety begin with the constitution of

commonwealth.]

But because covenants of mutual trust, where there is a fear of not

performance on either part, as hath been said in the former chapter, are

invalid; though the original of justice be the making of covenants; yet

injustice actually there can be none, till the cause of such fear be

taken away; which while men are in the natural condition of war, cannot

be done. Therefore before the names of just, and unjust can have place,

there must be some coercive power, to compel men equally to the

performance of their covenants, by the terror of some punishment,

greater than the benefit they expect by the breach of their covenant;

and to make good that propriety, which by mutual contract men acquire,

in recompense of the universal right they abandon: and such power there

is none before the erection of a commonwealth. And this is also to be

gathered out of the ordinary definition of justice in the Schools: for

they say, that _justice is the constant will of giving to every man his

own_. And therefore where there is no _own_, that is no propriety, there

is no injustice; and where there is no coercive power erected, that is,

where there is no commonwealth, there is no propriety; all men having

right to all things: therefore where there is no commonwealth, there

nothing is unjust. So that the nature of justice, consisteth in keeping

of valid covenants: but the validity of covenants begins not but with

the constitution of a civil power, sufficient to compel men to keep

them: and then it is also that propriety begins.

[Sidenote: Justice not contrary to reason.]

The fool hath said in his heart, there is no such thing as justice; and

sometimes also with his tongue; seriously alleging, that every man’s

conservation, and contentment, being committed to his own care, there

could be no reason, why every man might not do what he thought conduced

thereunto: and therefore also to make, or not make; keep, or not keep

covenants, was not against reason, when it conduced to one’s benefit. He

does not therein deny, that there be covenants; and that they are

sometimes broken, sometimes kept; and that such breach of them may be

called injustice, and the observance of them justice: but he

questioneth, whether injustice, taking away the fear of God, for the

same fool hath said in his heart there is no God, may not sometimes

stand with that reason, which dictateth to every man his own good; and

particularly then, when it conduceth to such a benefit, as shall put a

man in a condition, to neglect not only the dispraise, and revilings,

but also the power of other men. The kingdom of God is gotten by

violence: but what if it could be gotten by unjust violence? were it

against reason so to get it, when it is impossible to receive hurt by

it? and if it be not against reason, it is not against justice; or else

justice is not to be approved for good. From such reasoning as this,

successful wickedness hath obtained the name of virtue: and some that in

all other things have disallowed the violation of faith; yet have

allowed it, when it is for the getting of a kingdom. And the heathen

that believed, that Saturn was deposed by his son Jupiter, believed

nevertheless the same Jupiter to be the avenger of injustice: somewhat

like to a piece of law in Coke’s _Commentaries on Littleton_; where he

says, if the right heir of the crown be attainted of treason; yet the

crown shall descend to him, and _eo instante_ the attainder be void:

from which instances a man will be very prone to infer; that when the

heir apparent of a kingdom, shall kill him that is in possession, though

his father; you may call it injustice, or by what other name you will;

yet it can never be against reason, seeing all the voluntary actions of

men tend to the benefit of themselves; and those actions are most

reasonable, that conduce most to their ends. This specious reasoning is

nevertheless false.

For the question is not of promises mutual, where there is no security

of performance on either side; as when there is no civil power erected

over the parties promising; for such promises are no covenants: but

either where one of the parties has performed already; or where there is

a power to make him perform; there is the question whether it be against

reason, that is, against the benefit of the other to perform, or not.

And I say it is not against reason. For the manifestation whereof, we

are to consider; first, that when a man doth a thing, which

notwithstanding any thing can be foreseen, and reckoned on, tendeth to

his own destruction, howsoever some accident which he could not expect,

arriving may turn it to his benefit; yet such events do not make it

reasonably or wisely done. Secondly, that in a condition of war, wherein

every man to every man, for want of a common power to keep them all in

awe, is an enemy, there is no man who can hope by his own strength, or

wit, to defend himself from destruction, without the help of

confederates; where every one expects the same defence by the

confederation, that any one else does: and therefore he which declares

he thinks it reason to deceive those that help him, can in reason expect

no other means of safety, than what can be had from his own single

power. He therefore that breaketh his covenant, and consequently

declareth that he thinks he may with reason do so, cannot be received

into any society, that unite themselves for peace and defence, but by

the error of them that receive him; nor when he is received, be retained

in it, without seeing the danger of their error; which errors a man

cannot reasonably reckon upon as the means of his security: and

therefore if he be left, or cast out of society, he perisheth; and if he

live in society, it is by the errors of other men, which he could not

foresee, nor reckon upon; and consequently against the reason of his

preservation; and so, as all men that contribute not to his destruction,

forbear him only out of ignorance of what is good for themselves.

As for the instance of gaining the secure and perpetual felicity of

heaven, by any way; it is frivolous: there being but one way imaginable;

and that is not breaking, but keeping of covenant.

And for the other instance of attaining sovereignty by rebellion; it is

manifest, that though the event follow, yet because it cannot reasonably

be expected, but rather the contrary; and because by gaining it so,

others are taught to gain the same in like manner, the attempt thereof

is against reason. Justice therefore, that is to say, keeping of

covenant, is a rule of reason, by which we are forbidden to do any thing

destructive to our life; and consequently a law of nature.

There be some that proceed further; and will not have the law of nature,

to be those rules which conduce to the preservation of man’s life on

earth; but to the attaining of an eternal felicity after death; to which

they think the breach of covenant may conduce; and consequently be just

and reasonable; such are they that think it a work of merit to kill, or

depose, or rebel against, the sovereign power constituted over them by

their own consent. But because there is no natural knowledge of man’s

estate after death; much less of the reward that is then to be given to

breach of faith; but only a belief grounded upon other men’s saying,

that they know it supernaturally, or that they know those, that knew

them, that knew others, that knew it supernaturally; breach of faith

cannot be called a precept of reason, or nature.

[Sidenote: Covenants not discharged by the vice of the person to whom

they are made.]

Others, that allow for a law of nature, the keeping of faith, do

nevertheless make exception of certain persons; as heretics, and such as

use not to perform their covenant to others: and this also is against

reason. For if any fault of a man, be sufficient to discharge our

covenant made; the same ought in reason to have been sufficient to have

hindered the making of it.

[Sidenote: Justice of men and justice of actions what.]

The names of just, and injust, when they are attributed to men, signify

one thing; and when they are attributed to actions, another. When they

are attributed to men, they signify conformity, or inconformity of

manners, to reason. But when they are attributed to actions, they

signify the conformity, or inconformity to reason, not of manners, or

manner of life, but of particular actions. A just man therefore, is he

that taketh all the care he can, that his actions may be all just: and

an unjust man, is he that neglecteth it. And such men are more often in

our language styled by the names of righteous, and unrighteous; than

just, and unjust; though the meaning be the same. Therefore a righteous

man, does not lose that title, by one, or a few unjust actions, that

proceed from sudden passion, or mistake of things, or persons: nor does

an unrighteous man, lose his character, for such actions, as he does, or

forbears to do, for fear; because his will is not framed by the justice,

but by the apparent benefit of what he is to do. That which gives to

human actions the relish of justice, is a certain nobleness or

gallantness of courage, rarely found, by which a man scorns to be

beholden for the contentment of his life, to fraud, or breach of

promise. This justice of the manners, is that which is meant, where

justice is called a virtue; and injustice a vice.

But the justice of actions denominates men, not just, but _guiltless_:

and the injustice of the same, which is also called injury, gives them

but the name of _guilty_.

[Sidenote: Justice of manners, and justice of actions.]

Again, the injustice of manners, is the disposition, or aptitude to do

injury; and is injustice before it proceed to act; and without supposing

any individual person injured. But the injustice of an action, that is

to say injury, supposeth an individual person injured; namely him, to

whom the covenant was made: and therefore many times the injury is

received by one man, when the damage redoundeth to another. As when the

master commandeth his servant to give money to a stranger; if it be not

done, the injury is done to the master, whom he had before covenanted to

obey; but the damage redoundeth to the stranger, to whom he had no

obligation; and therefore could not injure him. And so also in

commonwealths, private men may remit to one another their debts; but not

robberies or other violences, whereby they are endamaged; because the

detaining of debt, is an injury to themselves; but robbery and violence,

are injuries to the person of the commonwealth.

[Sidenote: Nothing done to a man by his own consent can be injury.]

Whatsoever is done to a man, conformable to his own will signified to

the doer, is no injury to him. For if he that doeth it, hath not passed

away his original right to do what he please, by some antecedent

covenant, there is no breach of covenant; and therefore no injury done

him. And if he have; then his will to have it done being signified, is a

release of that covenant: and so again there is no injury done him.

[Sidenote: Justice commutative and distributive.]

Justice of actions, is by writers divided into _commutative_, and

_distributive_: and the former they say consisteth in proportion

arithmetical; the latter in proportion geometrical. Commutative

therefore, they place in the equality of value of the things contracted

for; and distributive, in the distribution of equal benefit, to men of

equal merit. As if it were injustice to sell dearer than we buy; or to

give more to a man than he merits. The value of all things contracted

for, is measured by the appetite of the contractors: and therefore the

just value, is that which they be contented to give. And merit, besides

that which is by covenant, where the performance on one part, meriteth

the performance of the other part, and falls under justice commutative,

not distributive, is not due by justice; but is rewarded of grace only.

And therefore this distinction, in the sense wherein it useth to be

expounded, is not right. To speak properly, commutative justice, is the

justice, of a contractor; that is, a performance of covenant, in buying,

and selling; hiring, and letting to hire; lending, and borrowing;

exchanging, bartering, and other acts of contract.

And distributive justice, the justice of an arbitrator; that is to say,

the act of defining what is just. Wherein, being trusted by them that

make him arbitrator, if he perform his trust, he is said to distribute

to every man his own: and this is indeed just distribution, and may be

called, though improperly, distributive justice; but more properly

equity; which also is a law of nature, as shall be shown in due place.

[Sidenote: The fourth law of nature, gratitude.]

As justice dependeth on antecedent covenant; so does GRATITUDE depend on

antecedent grace; that is to say, antecedent free gift: and is the

fourth law of nature; which may be conceived in this form, _that a man

which receiveth benefit from another of mere grace, endeavour that he

which giveth it, have no reasonable cause to repent him of his good

will_. For no man giveth, but with intention of good to himself; because

gift is voluntary; and of all voluntary acts, the object is to every man

his own good; of which if men see they shall be frustrated, there will

be no beginning of benevolence, or trust; nor consequently of mutual

help; nor of reconciliation of one man to another; and therefore they

are to remain still in the condition of _war_; which is contrary to the

first and fundamental law of nature, which commandeth men to _seek

peace_. The breach of this law, is called _ingratitude_; and hath the

same relation to grace, that injustice hath to obligation by covenant.

[Sidenote: The fifth mutual accommodation, or complaisance.]

A fifth law of nature, is COMPLAISANCE; that is to say, _that every man

strive to accommodate himself to the rest_. For the understanding

whereof, we may consider, that there is in men’s aptness to society, a

diversity of nature, rising from their diversity of affections; not

unlike to that we see in stones brought together for building of an

edifice. For as that stone which by the asperity, and irregularity of

figure, takes more room from others, than itself fills; and for the

hardness, cannot be easily made plain, and thereby hindereth the

building, is by the builders cast away as unprofitable, and troublesome:

so also, a man that by asperity of nature, will strive to retain those

things which to himself are superfluous, and to others necessary; and

for the stubbornness of his passions, cannot be corrected, is to be

left, or cast out of society, as cumbersome thereunto. For seeing every

man, not only by right, but also by necessity of nature, is supposed to

endeavour all he can, to obtain that which is necessary for his

conservation; he that shall oppose himself against it, for things

superfluous, is guilty of the war that thereupon is to follow; and

therefore doth that, which is contrary to the fundamental law of nature,

which commandeth _to seek peace_. The observers of this law, may be

called SOCIABLE, the Latins call them _commodi_; the contrary,

_stubborn_, _insociable_, _froward_, _intractable_.

[Sidenote: The sixth, facility to pardon.]

A sixth law of nature, is this, _that upon caution of the future time, a

man ought to pardon the offences past of them that repenting, desire

it_. For PARDON, is nothing but granting of peace; which though granted

to them that persevere in their hostility, be not peace, but fear; yet

not granted to them that give caution of the future time, is sign of an

aversion to peace; and therefore contrary to the law of nature.

[Sidenote: The seventh, that in revenges, men respect only the future

good.]

A seventh is, _that in revenges_, that is, retribution of evil for evil,

_men look not at the greatness of the evil past, but the greatness of

the good to follow_. Whereby we are forbidden to inflict punishment with

any other design, than for correction of the offender, or direction of

others. For this law is consequent to the next before it, that

commandeth pardon, upon security of the future time. Besides, revenge

without respect to the example, and profit to come, is a triumph, or

glorying in the hurt of another, tending to no end; for the end is

always somewhat to come; and glorying to no end, is vain-glory, and

contrary to reason, and to hurt without reason, tendeth to the

introduction of war; which is against the law of nature; and is commonly

styled by the name of _cruelty_.

[Sidenote: The eighth, against contumely.]

And because all signs of hatred, or contempt, provoke to fight; insomuch

as most men choose rather to hazard their life, than not to be revenged;

we may in the eighth place, for a law of nature, set down this precept,

_that no man by deed, word, countenance, or gesture, declare hatred, or

contempt of another_. The breach of which law, is commonly called

_contumely_.

[Sidenote: The ninth, against pride.]

The question who is the better man, has no place in the condition of

mere nature; where, as has been shewn before, all men are equal. The

inequality that now is, has been introduced by the laws civil. I know

that Aristotle in the first book of his _Politics_, for a foundation of

his doctrine, maketh men by nature, some more worthy to command, meaning

the wiser sort, such as he thought himself to be for his philosophy;

others to serve, meaning those that had strong bodies, but were not

philosophers as he; as if master and servant were not introduced by

consent of men, but by difference of wit: which is not only against

reason; but also against experience. For there are very few so foolish,

that had not rather govern themselves, than be governed by others: nor

when the wise in their own conceit, contend by force, with them who

distrust their own wisdom, do they always, or often, or almost at any

time, get the victory. If nature therefore have made men equal, that

equality is to be acknowledged: or if nature have made men unequal; yet

because men that think themselves equal, will not enter into conditions

of peace, but upon equal terms, such equality must be admitted. And

therefore for the ninth law of nature, I put this, _that every man

acknowledge another for his equal by nature_. The breach of this precept

is _pride_.

[Sidenote: The tenth, against arrogance.]

On this law, dependeth another, _that at the entrance into conditions of

peace_, _no man require to reserve to himself any right_, _which he is

not content should be reserved to every one of the rest_. As it is

necessary for all men that seek peace, to lay down certain rights of

nature; that is to say, not to have liberty to do all they list: so is

it necessary for man’s life, to retain some; as right to govern their

own bodies; enjoy air, water, motion, ways to go from place to place;

and all things else, without which a man cannot live, or not live well.

If in this case, at the making of peace, men require for themselves,

that which they would not have to be granted to others, they do contrary

to the precedent law, that commandeth the acknowledgment of natural

equality, and therefore also against the law of nature. The observers of

this law, are those we call _modest_, and the breakers _arrogant_ men.

The Greeks call the violation of this law πλεονεξία; that is, a desire

of more than their share.

[Sidenote: The eleventh, equity.]

Also if _a man be trusted to judge between man and man_, it is a precept

of the law of nature, _that he deal equally between them_. For without

that, the controversies of men cannot be determined but by war. He

therefore that is partial in judgment, doth what in him lies, to deter

men from the use of judges, and arbitrators; and consequently, against

the fundamental law of nature, is the cause of war.

The observance of this law, from the equal distribution to each man, of

that which in reason belongeth to him, is called EQUITY, and, as I have

said before, distributive justice: the violation, _acception of

persons_, προσωποληψία.

[Sidenote: The twelfth, equal use of things common.]

And from this followeth another law, _that such things as cannot be

divided, be enjoyed in common, if it can be; and if the quantity of the

thing permit, without stint; otherwise proportionably to the number of

them that have right_. For otherwise the distribution is unequal, and

contrary to equity.

[Sidenote: The thirteenth, of lot.]

But some things there be, that can neither be divided, nor enjoyed in

common. Then, the law of nature, which prescribeth equity, requireth,

_that the entire right; or else, making the use alternate, the first

possession, be determined by lot_. For equal distribution, is of the law

of nature; and other means of equal distribution cannot be imagined.

[Sidenote: The fourteenth, of primogeniture, and first seizing.]

Of _lots_ there be two sorts, _arbitrary_, and _natural_. Arbitrary, is

that which is agreed on by the competitors: natural, is either

_primogeniture_, which the Greek calls κληρονομία, which signifies,

_given by lot_; or _first seizure_.

And therefore those things which cannot be enjoyed in common, nor

divided, ought to be adjudged to the first possessor; and in some cases

to the first born, as acquired by lot.

[Sidenote: The fifteenth, of mediators.]

It is also a law of nature, _that all men that mediate peace, be allowed

safe conduct_. For the law that commandeth peace, as the _end_,

commandeth intercession, as the _means_; and to intercession the means

is safe conduct.

[Illustration: The sixteenth, of submission to arbitrement.]

And because, though men be never so willing to observe these laws, there

may nevertheless arise questions concerning a man’s action; first,

whether it were done, or not done; secondly, if done, whether against

the law, or not against the law; the former whereof, is called a

question _of fact_; the latter a question _of right_, therefore unless

the parties to the question, covenant mutually to stand to the sentence

of another, they are as far from peace as ever. This other to whose

sentence they submit is called an ARBITRATOR. And therefore it is of the

law of nature, _that they that are at controversy, submit their right to

the judgment of an arbitrator_.

[Sidenote: The seventeenth, no man is his own judge.]

And seeing every man is presumed to do all things in order to his own

benefit, no man is a fit arbitrator in his own cause; and if he were

never so fit; yet equity allowing to each party equal benefit, if one be

admitted to be judge, the other is to be admitted also; and so the

controversy, that is, the cause of war, remains, against the law of

nature.

[Sidenote: The eighteenth, no man to be judge, that has in him a natural

cause of partiality.]

For the same reason no man in any cause ought to be received for

arbitrator, to whom greater profit, or honour, or pleasure apparently

ariseth out of the victory of one party, than of the other: for he hath

taken, though an unavoidable bribe, yet a bribe; and no man can be

obliged to trust him. And thus also the controversy, and the condition

of war remaineth, contrary to the law of nature.

[Sidenote: The nineteenth of witnesses.]

And in a controversy of _fact_, the judge being to give no more credit

to one, than to the other, if there be no other arguments, must give

credit to a third; or to a third and fourth; or more: for else the

question is undecided, and left to force, contrary to the law of nature.

These are the laws of nature, dictating peace, for a means of the

conservation of men in multitudes; and which only concern the doctrine

of civil society. There be other things tending to the destruction of

particular men; as drunkenness, and all other parts of intemperance;

which may therefore also be reckoned amongst those things which the law

of nature hath forbidden; but are not necessary to be mentioned, nor are

pertinent enough to this place.

[Sidenote: A rule, by which the laws of nature may easily be examined.]

And though this may seem too subtle a deduction of the laws of nature,

to be taken notice of by all men; whereof the most part are too busy in

getting food, and the rest too negligent to understand; yet to leave all

men inexcusable, they have been contracted into one easy sum,

intelligible even to the meanest capacity; and that is, _Do not that to

another, which thou wouldest not have done to thyself_; which sheweth

him, that he has no more to do in learning the laws of nature, but, when

weighing the actions of other men with his own, they seem too heavy, to

put them into the other part of the balance, and his own into their

place, that his own passions, and self-love, may add nothing to the

weight; and then there is none of these laws of nature that will not

appear unto him very reasonable.

[Sidenote: The laws of nature oblige in conscience always, but in effect

then only when there is security.]

The laws of nature oblige _in foro interno_; that is to say, they bind

to a desire they should take place: but _in foro externo_; that is, to

the putting them in act, not always. For he that should be modest, and

tractable, and perform all he promises, in such time, and place, where

no man else should do so, should but make himself a prey to others, and

procure his own certain ruin, contrary to the ground of all laws of

nature, which tend to nature’s preservation. And again, he that having

sufficient security, that others shall observe the same laws towards

him, observes them not himself, seeketh not peace, but war; and

consequently the destruction of his nature by violence.

And whatsoever laws bind _in foro interno_, may be broken, not only by a

fact contrary to the law, but also by a fact according to it, in case a

man think it contrary. For though his action in this case, be according

to the law; yet his purpose was against the law; which, where the

obligation is _in foro interno_, is a breach.

[Sidenote: The laws of nature are eternal.]

The laws of nature are immutable and eternal; for injustice,

ingratitude, arrogance, pride, iniquity, acception of persons, and the

rest, can never be made lawful. For it can never be that war shall

preserve life, and peace destroy it.

[Sidenote: And yet easy.]

The same laws, because they oblige only to a desire, and endeavour, I

mean an unfeigned and constant endeavour, are easy to be observed. For

in that they require nothing but endeavour, he that endeavoureth their

performance, fulfilleth them; and he that fulfilleth the law, is just.

[Sidenote: The science of these laws, is the true moral philosophy.]

And the science of them, is the true and only moral philosophy. For

moral philosophy is nothing else but the science of what is _good_, and

_evil_, in the conversation, and society of mankind. _Good_, and _evil_,

are names that signify our appetites, and aversions; which in different

tempers, customs, and doctrines of men, are different: and divers men,

differ not only in their judgment, on the senses of what is pleasant,

and unpleasant to the taste, smell, hearing, touch, and sight; but also

of what is conformable, or disagreeable to reason, in the actions of

common life. Nay, the same man, in divers times, differs from himself;

and one time praiseth, that is, calleth good, what another time he

dispraiseth, and calleth evil: from whence arise disputes,

controversies, and at last war. And therefore so long as a man is in the

condition of mere nature, which is a condition of war, as private

appetite is the measure of good, and evil: and consequently all men

agree on this, that peace is good, and therefore also the way, or means

of peace, which, as I have shewed before, are _justice_, _gratitude_,

_modesty_, _equity_, _mercy_, and the rest of the laws of nature, are

good; that is to say; _moral virtues_; and their contrary _vices_, evil.

Now the science of virtue and vice, is moral philosophy; and therefore

the true doctrine of the laws of nature, is the true moral philosophy.

But the writers of moral philosophy, though they acknowledge the same

virtues and vices; yet not seeing wherein consisted their goodness; nor

that they come to be praised, as the means of peaceable, sociable, and

comfortable living, place them in a mediocrity of passions: as if not

the cause, but the degree of daring, made fortitude; or not the cause,

but the quantity of a gift, made liberality.

These dictates of reason, men used to call by the name of laws, but

improperly: for they are but conclusions, or theorems concerning what

conduceth to the conservation and defence of themselves; whereas law,

properly, is the word of him, that by right hath command over others.

But yet if we consider the same theorems, as delivered in the word of

God, that by right commandeth all things; then are they properly called

laws.

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CHAPTER XVI.

OF PERSONS, AUTHORS, AND THINGS

PERSONATED.

[Sidenote: A person what.]

A PERSON, is he, _whose words or actions are considered, either as his

own, or as representing the words or actions of another man, or of any

other thing, to whom they are attributed, whether truly or by fiction_.

[Sidenote: Person natural, and artificial.]

When they are considered as his own, then is he called a _natural

person_: and when they are considered as representing the words and

actions of another, then is he a _feigned_ or _artificial person_.

[Sidenote: The word person, whence.]

The word person is Latin: instead whereof the Greeks have πρόσωπον,

which signifies the _face_, as _persona_ in Latin signifies the

disguise, or _outward appearance_ of a man, counterfeited on the stage;

and sometimes more particularly that part of it, which disguiseth the

face, as a mask or vizard: and from the stage, hath been translated to

any representer of speech and action, as well in tribunals, as theatres.

So that a _person_, is the same that an _actor_ is, both on the stage

and in common conversation; and to _personate_, is to _act_, or

_represent_ himself, or another; and he that acteth another, is said to

bear his person, or act in his name; in which sense Cicero useth it

where he says, _Unus sustineo tres personas; mei, adversarii, et

judicis_: I bear three persons; my own, my adversary’s, and the judge’s;

and is called in divers occasions, diversly; as a _representer_, or

_representative_, a _lieutenant_, a _vicar_, an _attorney_, a _deputy_,

a _procurator_, an _actor_, and the like.

Of persons artificial, some have their words and actions _owned_ by

those whom they represent. [Sidenote: Actor.] And then the person is the

_actor_; [Sidenote: Author.] and he that owneth his words and actions,

is the AUTHOR: in which case the actor acteth by authority. For that

which in speaking of goods and possessions, is called an _owner_, and in

Latin _dominus_, in Greek κύριος speaking of actions, is called author.

And as the right of possession, is called dominion; [Sidenote:

Authority.] so the right of doing any action, is called AUTHORITY. So

that by authority, is always understood a right of doing any act; and

_done by authority_, done by commission, or licence from him whose right

it is.

[Sidenote: Covenants by authority, bind the author.]

From hence it followeth, that when the actor maketh a covenant by

authority, he bindeth thereby the author, no less than if he had made it

himself; and no less subjecteth him to all the consequences of the same.

And therefore all that hath been said formerly, (chap. XIV) of the

nature of covenants between man and man in their natural capacity, is

true also when they are made by their actors, representers, or

procurators, that have authority from them, so far forth as is in their

commission, but no further.

And therefore he that maketh a covenant with the actor, or representer,

not knowing the authority he hath, doth it at his own peril. For no man

is obliged by a covenant, whereof he is not author; nor consequently by

a covenant made against, or beside the authority he gave.

[Sidenote: But not the actor.]

When the actor doth anything against the law of nature by command of the

author, if he be obliged by former covenant to obey him, not he, but the

author breaketh the law of nature; for though the action be against the

law of nature; yet it is not his: but contrarily, to refuse to do it, is

against the law of nature, that forbiddeth breach of covenant.

[Sidenote: The authority is to be shown.]

And he that maketh a covenant with the author, by mediation of the

actor, not knowing what authority he hath, but only takes his word; in

case such authority be not made manifest unto him upon demand, is no

longer obliged: for the covenant made with the author, is not valid,

without his counter-assurance. But if he that so covenanteth, knew

beforehand he was to expect no other assurance, than the actor’s word;

then is the covenant valid; because the actor in this case maketh

himself the author. And therefore, as when the authority is evident, the

covenant obligeth the author, not the actor; so when the authority is

feigned, it obligeth the actor only; there being no author but himself.

[Sidenote: Things personated, inanimate.]

There are few things, that are incapable of being represented by

fiction. Inanimate things, as a church, an hospital, a bridge, may be

personated by a rector, master, or overseer. But things inanimate,

cannot be authors, nor therefore give authority to their actors: yet the

actors may have authority to procure their maintenance, given them by

those that are owners, or governors of those things. And therefore, such

things cannot be personated, before there be some state of civil

government.

[Sidenote: Irrational.]

Likewise children, fools, and madmen that have no use of reason, may be

personated by guardians, or curators; but can be no authors, during that

time, of any action done by them, longer than, when they shall recover

the use of reason, they shall judge the same reasonable. Yet during the

folly, he that hath right of governing them, may give authority to the

guardian. But this again has no place but in a state civil, because

before such estate, there is no dominion of persons.

[Sidenote: False gods.]

An idol, or mere figment of the brain, may be personated; as were the

gods of the heathen: which by such officers as the state appointed, were

personated, and held possessions, and other goods, and rights, which men

from time to time dedicated, and consecrated unto them. But idols cannot

be authors: for an idol is nothing. The authority proceeded from the

state: and therefore before introduction of civil government, the gods

of the heathen could not be personated.

[Sidenote: The true God.]

The true God may be personated. As he was; first, by Moses; who governed

the Israelites, that were not his, but God’s people, not in his own

name, with _hoc dicit Moses_; but in God’s name, with _hoc dicit

Dominus_. Secondly, by the Son of man, his own Son, our blessed Saviour

Jesus Christ, that came to reduce the Jews, and induce all nations into

the kingdom of his father; not as of himself, but as sent from his

father. And thirdly, by the Holy Ghost, or Comforter, speaking, and

working in the Apostles: which Holy Ghost, was a Comforter that came not

of himself; but was sent, and proceeded from them both.

[Sidenote: A multitude of men, how one person.]

A multitude of men, are made one person, when they are by one man, or

one person, represented; so that it be done with the consent of every

one of that multitude in particular. For it is the _unity_ of the

representer, not the _unity_ of the represented, that maketh the person

_one_. And it is the representer that beareth the person, and but one

person: and _unity_, cannot otherwise be understood in multitude.

[Sidenote: Every one is author.]

And because the multitude naturally is not _one_, but _many_; they

cannot be understood for one; but many authors, of every thing their

representative saith, or doth in their name; every man giving their

common representer, authority from himself in particular; and owning all

the actions the representer doth, in case they give him authority

without stint: otherwise, when they limit him in what, and how far he

shall represent them, none of them owneth more than they gave him

commission to act.

[Sidenote: An actor may be many men made one by plurality of voices.]

And if the representative consist of many men, the voice of the greater

number, must be considered as the voice of them all. For if the lesser

number pronounce, for example, in the affirmative, and the greater in

the negative, there will be negatives more than enough to destroy the

affirmatives; and thereby the excess of negatives, standing

uncontradicted, are the only voice the representative hath.

[Sidenote: Representatives, when the number is even, unprofitable.]

And a representative of even number, especially when the number is not

great, whereby the contradictory voices are oftentimes equal, is

therefore oftentimes mute, and incapable of action. Yet in some cases

contradictory voices equal in number, may determine a question; as in

condemning, or absolving, equality of votes, even in that they condemn

not, do absolve; but not on the contrary condemn, in that they absolve

not. For when a cause is heard; not to condemn, is to absolve: but on

the contrary, to say that not absolving, is condemning, is not true. The

like it is in a deliberation of executing presently, or deferring till

another time: for when the voices are equal, the not decreeing

execution, is a decree of dilation.

[Sidenote: Negative voice.]

Or if the number be odd, as three, or more, men or assemblies; whereof

every one has by a negative voice, authority to take away the effect of

all the affirmative voices of the rest, this number is no

representative; because by the diversity of opinions, and interests of

men, it becomes oftentimes, and in cases of the greatest consequence, a

mute person, and unapt, as for many things else, so for the government

of a multitude, especially in time of war.

Of authors there be two sorts. The first simply so called; which I have

before defined to be him, that owneth the action of another simply. The

second is he, that owneth an action, or covenant of another

conditionally; that is to say, he undertaketh to do it, if the other

doth it not, at, or before a certain time. And these authors

conditional, are generally called SURETIES, in Latin, _fidejussores_,

and _sponsores_; and particularly for debt, _prædes_; and for appearance

before a judge, or magistrate, _vades_.

PART II.

OF COMMONWEALTH.

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The English works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury, Volume 03 (of 11) · 第 1 / 21 章