No More Learning

For it is a thousand
times more credible, that four mutable elements, and one immutable fifth
essence, duly and eternally placed, need no God, than that an army of
infinite small portions, or seeds unplaced, should have produced this
order and beauty, without a divine marshal. The Scripture saith, The
fool hath said in his heart, there is no God; it is not said, The fool
hath thought in his heart; so as he rather saith it, by rote to himself,
as that he would have, than that he can thoroughly believe it, or be
persuaded of it. For none deny, there is a God, but those, for whom
it maketh that there were no God. It appeareth in nothing more, that
atheism is rather in the lip, than in the heart of man, than by this;
that atheists will ever be talking of that their opinion, as if they
fainted in it, within themselves, and would be glad to be strengthened,
by the consent of others. Nay more, you shall have atheists strive to
get disciples, as it fareth with other sects. And, which is most of all,
you shall have of them, that will suffer for atheism, and not recant;
whereas if they did truly think, that there were no such thing as God,
why should they trouble themselves? Epicurus is charged, that he did
but dissemble for his credit's sake, when he affirmed there were blessed
natures, but such as enjoyed themselves, without having respect to the
government of the world. Wherein they say he did temporize; though in
secret, he thought there was no God. But certainly he is traduced; for
his words are noble and divine: Non deos vulgi negare profanum; sed
vulgi opiniones diis applicare profanum. Plato could have said no more.
And although he had the confidence, to deny the administration, he had
not the power, to deny the nature. The Indians of the West, have names
for their particular gods, though they have no name for God: as if the
heathens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo, Mars, etc. , but not
the word Deus; which shows that even those barbarous people have the
notion, though they have not the latitude and extent of it. So that
against atheists, the very savages take part, with the very subtlest
philosophers. The contemplative atheist is rare: a Diagoras, a Bion, a
Lucian perhaps, and some others; and yet they seem to be more than they
are; for that all that impugn a received religion, or superstition, are
by the adverse part branded with the name of atheists. But the great
atheists, indeed are hypocrites; which are ever handling holy things,
but without feeling; so as they must needs be cauterized in the end. The
causes of atheism are: divisions in religion, if they be many; for
any one main division, addeth zeal to both sides; but many divisions
introduce atheism. Another is, scandal of priests; when it is come
to that which St. Bernard saith, non est jam dicere, ut populus sic
sacerdos; quia nec sic populus ut sacerdos. A third is, custom of
profane scoffing in holy matters; which doth, by little and little,
deface the reverence of religion. And lastly, learned times, specially
with peace and prosperity; for troubles and adversities do more bow
men's minds to religion. They that deny a God, destroy man's nobility;
for certainly man is of kin to the beasts, by his body; and, if he be
not of kin to God, by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature. It
destroys likewise magnanimity, and the raising of human nature; for take
an example of a dog, and mark what a generosity and courage he will put
on, when he finds himself maintained by a man; who to him is instead
of a God, or melior natura; which courage is manifestly such, as that
creature, without that confidence of a better nature than his own, could
never attain. So man, when he resteth and assureth himself, upon divine
protection and favor, gathered a force and faith, which human nature
in itself could not obtain. Therefore, as atheism is in all respects
hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human nature of the means to
exalt itself, above human frailty. As it is in particular persons, so it
is in nations. Never was there such a state for magnanimity as Rome.
Of this state hear what Cicero saith: Quam volumus licet, patres
conscripti, nos amemus, tamen nec numero Hispanos, nec robore Gallos,
nec calliditate Poenos, nec artibus Graecos, nec denique hoc ipso hujus
gentis et terrae domestico nativoque sensu Italos ipsos et Latinos; sed
pietate, ac religione, atque hac una sapientia, quod deorum immortalium
numine omnia regi gubernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes nationesque
superavimus.




Of Superstition


IT WERE better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion,
as is unworthy of him. For the one is unbelief, the other is contumely;
and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith
well to that purpose: Surely (saith he) I had rather a great deal, men
should say, there was no such man at all, as Plutarch, than that they
should say, that there was one Plutarch, that would eat his children
as soon as they were born; as the poets speak of Saturn. And as the
contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is greater towards men.
Atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to
laws, to reputation; all which may be guides to an outward moral virtue,
though religion were not; but superstition dismounts all these, and
erecteth an absolute monarchy, in the minds of men. Therefore atheism did
never perturb states; for it makes men wary of themselves, as looking
no further: and we see the times inclined to atheism (as the time
of Augustus Caesar) were civil times. But superstition hath been the
confusion of many states, and bringeth in a new primum mobile, that
ravisheth all the spheres of government. The master of superstition,
is the people; and in all superstition, wise men follow fools; and
arguments are fitted to practice, in a reversed order. It was gravely
said by some of the prelates in the Council of Trent, where the
doctrine of the Schoolmen bare great sway, that the Schoolmen were like
astronomers, which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, and such engines
of orbs, to save the phenomena; though they knew there were no such
things; and in like manner, that the Schoolmen had framed a number of
subtle and intricate axioms, and theorems, to save the practice of the
church. The causes of superstition are: pleasing and sensual rites
and ceremonies; excess of outward and pharisaical holiness; overgreat
reverence of traditions, which cannot but load the church; the
stratagems of prelates, for their own ambition and lucre; the favoring
too much of good intentions, which openeth the gate to conceits and
novelties; the taking an aim at divine matters, by human, which cannot
but breed mixture of imaginations: and, lastly, barbarous times,
especially joined with calamities and disasters. Superstition, without a
veil, is a deformed thing; for, as it addeth deformity to an ape, to be
so like a man, so the similitude of superstition to religion, makes it
the more deformed. And as wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms, so
good forms and orders corrupt, into a number of petty observances. There
is a superstition in avoiding superstition, when men think to do best,
if they go furthest from the superstition, formerly received; therefore
care would be had that (as it fareth in ill purgings) the good be not
taken away with the bad; which commonly is done, when the people is the
reformer.




Of Travel


TRAVEL, in the younger sort, is a part of education, in the elder, a
part of experience. He that travelleth into a country, before he hath
some entrance into the language, goeth to school, and not to travel.
That young men travel under some tutor, or grave servant, I allow well;
so that he be such a one that hath the language, and hath been in the
country before; whereby he may be able to tell them what things are
worthy to be seen, in the country where they go; what acquaintances
they are to seek; what exercises, or discipline, the place yieldeth. For
else, young men shall go hooded, and look abroad little. It is a strange
thing, that in sea voyages, where there is nothing to be seen, but sky
and sea, men should make diaries; but in land-travel, wherein so much is
to be observed, for the most part they omit it; as if chance were fitter
to be registered, than observation. Let diaries, therefore, be brought
in use. The things to be seen and observed are: the courts of princes,
especially when they give audience to ambassadors; the courts of
justice, while they sit and hear causes; and so of consistories
ecclesiastic; the churches and monasteries, with the monuments which are
therein extant; the walls and fortifications of cities, and towns, and
so the heavens and harbors; antiquities and ruins; libraries; colleges,
disputations, and lectures, where any are; shipping and navies;
houses and gardens of state and pleasure, near great cities; armories;
arsenals; magazines; exchanges; burses; warehouses; exercises of
horsemanship, fencing, training of soldiers, and the like; comedies,
such whereunto the better sort of persons do resort; treasuries of
jewels and robes; cabinets and rarities; and, to conclude, whatsoever is
memorable, in the places where they go. After all which, the tutors,
or servants, ought to make diligent inquiry. As for triumphs, masks,
feasts, weddings, funerals, capital executions, and such shows, men need
not to be put in mind of them; yet are they not to be neglected. If you
will have a young man to put his travel into a little room, and in short
time to gather much, this you must do. First, as was said, he must have
some entrance into the language before he goeth. Then he must have such
a servant, or tutor, as knoweth the country, as was likewise said. Let
him carry with him also, some card or book, describing the country where
he travelleth; which will be a good key to his inquiry. Let him keep
also a diary. Let him not stay long, in one city or town; more or less
as the place deserveth, but not long; nay, when he stayeth in one city
or town, let him change his lodging from one end and part of the town,
to another; which is a great adamant of acquaintance. Let him sequester
himself, from the company of his countrymen, and diet in such places,
where there is good company of the nation where he travelleth. Let him,
upon his removes from one place to another, procure recommendation to
some person of quality, residing in the place whither he removeth; that
he may use his favor, in those things he desireth to see or know. Thus
he may abridge his travel, with much profit. As for the acquaintance,
which is to be sought in travel; that which is most of all profitable,
is acquaintance with the secretaries and employed men of ambassadors:
for so in travelling in one country, he shall suck the experience of
many. Let him also see, and visit, eminent persons in all kinds, which
are of great name abroad; that he may be able to tell, how the life
agreeth with the fame. For quarrels, they are with care and discretion
to be avoided. They are commonly for mistresses, healths, place, and
words. And let a man beware, how he keepeth company with choleric and
quarrelsome persons; for they will engage him into their own quarrels.
When a traveller returneth home, let him not leave the countries, where
he hath travelled, altogether behind him; but maintain a correspondence
by letters, with those of his acquaintance, which are of most worth.
And let his travel appear rather in his discourse, than his apparel or
gesture; and in his discourse, let him be rather advised in his answers,
than forward to tell stories; and let it appear that he doth not change
his country manners, for those of foreign parts; but only prick in some
flowers, of that he hath learned abroad, into the customs of his own
country.




Of Empire


IT IS a miserable state of mind, to have few things to desire, and many
things to fear; and yet that commonly is the case of kings; who, being
at the highest, want matter of desire, which makes their minds more
languishing; and have many representations of perils and shadows, which
makes their minds the less clear. And this is one reason also, of
that effect which the Scripture speaketh of, That the king's heart is
inscrutable. For multitude of jealousies, and lack of some predominant
desire, that should marshal and put in order all the rest, maketh
any man's heart, hard to find or sound. Hence it comes likewise, that
princes many times make themselves desires, and set their hearts upon
toys; sometimes upon a building; sometimes upon erecting of an order;
sometimes upon the advancing of a person; sometimes upon obtaining
excellency in some art, or feat of the hand; as Nero for playing on the
harp, Domitian for certainty of the hand with the arrow, Commodus for
playing at fence, Caracalla for driving chariots, and the like. This
seemeth incredible, unto those that know not the principle, that the
mind of man, is more cheered and refreshed by profiting in small things,
than by standing at a stay, in great. We see also that kings that have
been fortunate conquerors, in their first years, it being not possible
for them to go forward infinitely, but that they must have some
check, or arrest in their fortunes, turn in their latter years to be
superstitious, and melancholy; as did Alexander the Great; Diocletian;
and in our memory, Charles the Fifth; and others: for he that is used to
go forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of his own favor, and is not
the thing he was.

To speak now of the true temper of empire, it is a thing rare and hard
to keep; for both temper, and distemper, consist of contraries. But it
is one thing, to mingle contraries, another to interchange them. The
answer of Apollonius to Vespasian, is full of excellent instruction.
Vespasian asked him, What was Nero's overthrow? He answered, Nero could
touch and tune the harp well; but in government, sometimes he used to
wind the pins too high, sometimes to let them down too low. And certain
it is, that nothing destroyeth authority so much, as the unequal and
untimely interchange of power pressed too far, and relaxed too much.

This is true, that the wisdom of all these latter times, in princes'
affairs, is rather fine deliveries, and shiftings of dangers and
mischiefs, when they are near, than solid and grounded courses to keep
them aloof. But this is but to try masteries with fortune. And let men
beware, how they neglect and suffer matter of trouble to be prepared;
for no man can forbid the spark, nor tell whence it may come. The
difficulties in princes' business are many and great; but the greatest
difficulty, is often in their own mind. For it is common with princes
(saith Tacitus) to will contradictories, Sunt plerumque regum voluntates
vehementes, et inter se contrariae. For it is the solecism of power, to
think to command the end, and yet not to endure the mean.

Kings have to deal with their neighbors, their wives, their children,
their prelates or clergy, their nobles, their second-nobles or
gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, and their men of war; and
from all these arise dangers, if care and circumspection be not used.

First for their neighbors; there can no general rule be given (for
occasions are so variable), save one, which ever holdeth, which is, that
princes do keep due sentinel, that none of their neighbors do ever grow
so (by increase of territory, by embracing of trade, by approaches, or
the like), as they become more able to annoy them, than they were.
And this is generally the work of standing counsels, to foresee and to
hinder it. During that triumvirate of kings, King Henry the Eighth
of England, Francis the First King of France, and Charles the Fifth
Emperor, there was such a watch kept, that none of the three could win a
palm of ground, but the other two would straightways balance it, either
by confederation, or, if need were, by a war; and would not in any wise
take up peace at interest. And the like was done by that league (which
Guicciardini saith was the security of Italy) made between Ferdinando
King of Naples, Lorenzius Medici, and Ludovicus Sforza, potentates, the
one of Florence, the other of Milan. Neither is the opinion of some of
the Schoolmen, to be received, that a war cannot justly be made, but
upon a precedent injury or provocation. For there is no question, but
a just fear of an imminent danger, though there be no blow given, is a
lawful cause of a war.

For their wives; there are cruel examples of them. Livia is infamed,
for the poisoning of her husband; Roxalana, Solyman's wife, was the
destruction of that renowned prince, Sultan Mustapha, and otherwise
troubled his house and succession; Edward the Second of England, his
queen, had the principal hand in the deposing and murder of her husband.
This kind of danger, is then to be feared chiefly, when the wives have
plots, for the raising of their own children; or else that they be
advoutresses.

For their children; the tragedies likewise of dangers from them, have
been many. And generally, the entering of fathers into suspicion of
their children, hath been ever unfortunate. The destruction of Mustapha
(that we named before) was so fatal to Solyman's line, as the succession
of the Turks, from Solyman until this day, is suspected to be untrue,
and of strange blood; for that Selymus the Second, was thought to
be suppositious. The destruction of Crispus, a young prince of rare
towardness, by Constantinus the Great, his father, was in like manner
fatal to his house; for both Constantinus and Constance, his sons, died
violent deaths; and Constantius, his other son, did little better; who
died indeed of sickness, but after that Julianus had taken arms against
him. The destruction of Demetrius, son to Philip the Second of Macedon,
turned upon the father, who died of repentance. And many like examples
there are; but few or none, where the fathers had good by such distrust;
except it were, where the sons were up in open arms against them; as
was Selymus the First against Bajazet; and the three sons of Henry the
Second, King of England.

For their prelates; when they are proud and great, there is also danger
from them; as it was in the times of Anselmus, and Thomas Becket,
Archbishops of Canterbury; who, with their croziers, did almost try it
with the king's sword; and yet they had to deal with stout and haughty
kings, William Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the Second. The danger
is not from that state, but where it hath a dependence of foreign
authority; or where the churchmen come in and are elected, not by the
collation of the king, or particular patrons, but by the people.

For their nobles; to keep them at a distance, it is not amiss; but to
depress them, may make a king more absolute, but less safe; and less
able to perform, any thing that he desires. I have noted it, in
my History of King Henry the Seventh of England, who depressed his
nobility; whereupon it came to pass, that his times were full of
difficulties and troubles; for the nobility, though they continued loyal
unto him, yet did they not co-operate with him in his business. So that
in effect, he was fain to do all things himself.

For their second-nobles; there is not much danger from them, being a
body dispersed. They may sometimes discourse high, but that doth little
hurt; besides, they are a counterpoise to the higher nobility, that they
grow not too potent; and, lastly, being the most immediate in authority,
with the common people, they do best temper popular commotions.

For their merchants; they are vena porta; and if they flourish not,
a kingdom may have good limbs, but will have empty veins, and nourish
little. Taxes and imposts upon them, do seldom good to the king's
revenue; for that that he wins in the hundred, he leeseth in the shire;
the particular rates being increased, but the total bulk of trading,
rather decreased.

For their commons; there is little danger from them, except it be, where
they have great and potent heads; or where you meddle with the point of
religion, or their customs, or means of life.

For their men of war; it is a dangerous state, where they live and
remain in a body, and are used to donatives; whereof we see examples in
the janizaries, and pretorian bands of Rome; but trainings of men, and
arming them in several places, and under several commanders, and without
donatives, are things of defence, and no danger.

Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good or evil times; and
which have much veneration, but no rest. All precepts concerning kings,
are in effect comprehended in those two remembrances: memento quod es
homo; and memento quod es Deus, or vice Dei; the one bridleth their
power, and the other their will.




Of Counsel


THE greatest trust, between man and man, is the trust of giving counsel.
For in other confidences, men commit the parts of life; their lands,
their goods, their children, their credit, some particular affair; but
to such as they make their counsellors, they commit the whole: by how
much the more, they are obliged to all faith and integrity. The
wisest princes need not think it any diminution to their greatness, or
derogation to their sufficiency, to rely upon counsel. God himself is
not without, but hath made it one of the great names of his blessed Son:
The Counsellor. Solomon hath pronounced, that in counsel is stability.
Things will have their first, or second agitation: if they be not tossed
upon the arguments of counsel, they will be tossed upon the waves of
fortune; and be full of inconstancy, doing and undoing, like the reeling
of a drunken man. Solomon's son found the force of counsel, as his
father saw the necessity of it. For the beloved kingdom of God, was
first rent, and broken, by ill counsel; upon which counsel, there are
set for our instruction, the two marks whereby bad counsel is for ever
best discerned; that it was young counsel, for the person; and violent
counsel, for the matter.

The ancient times, do set forth in figure, both the incorporation, and
inseparable conjunction, of counsel with kings, and the wise and politic
use of counsel by kings: the one, in that they say Jupiter did marry
Metis, which signifieth counsel; whereby they intend that Sovereignty,
is married to Counsel: the other in that which followeth, which was
thus: They say, after Jupiter was married to Metis, she conceived by
him, and was with child, but Jupiter suffered her not to stay, till she
brought forth, but eat her up; whereby he became himself with child, and
was delivered of Pallas armed, out of his head. Which monstrous fable
containeth a secret of empire; how kings are to make use of their
counsel of state. That first, they ought to refer matters unto them,
which is the first begetting, or impregnation; but when they are
elaborate, moulded, and shaped in the womb of their counsel, and grow
ripe, and ready to be brought forth, that then they suffer not their
counsel to go through with the resolution and direction, as if it
depended on them; but take the matter back into their own hands, and
make it appear to the world, that the decrees and final directions
(which, because they come forth, with prudence and power, are resembled
to Pallas armed) proceeded from themselves; and not only from their
authority, but (the more to add reputation to themselves) from their
head and device.

Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel, and of the remedies.
The inconveniences that have been noted, in calling and using counsel,
are three. First, the revealing of affairs, whereby they become less
secret. Secondly, the weakening of the authority of princes, as if
they were less of themselves. Thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully
counselled, and more for the good of them that counsel, than of him
that is counselled. For which inconveniences, the doctrine of Italy,
and practice of France, in some kings' times, hath introduced cabinet
counsels; a remedy worse than the disease.

As to secrecy; princes are not bound to communicate all matters, with
all counsellors; but may extract and select. Neither is it necessary,
that he that consulteth what he should do, should declare what he will
do. But let princes beware, that the unsecreting of their affairs, comes
not from themselves. And as for cabinet counsels, it may be their motto,
plenus rimarum sum: one futile person, that maketh it his glory to tell,
will do more hurt than many, that know it their duty to conceal. It is
true there be some affairs, which require extreme secrecy, which will
hardly go beyond one or two persons, besides the king: neither are those
counsels unprosperous; for, besides the secrecy, they commonly go on
constantly, in one spirit of direction, without distraction. But then
it must be a prudent king, such as is able to grind with a handmill; and
those inward counsellors had need also be wise men, and especially true
and trusty to the king's ends; as it was with King Henry the Seventh of
England, who, in his great business, imparted himself to none, except it
were to Morton and Fox.

For weakening of authority; the fable showeth the remedy. Nay, the
majesty of kings, is rather exalted than diminished, when they are in
the chair of counsel; neither was there ever prince, bereaved of his
dependences, by his counsel, except where there hath been, either an
over-greatness in one counsellor, or an over-strict combination in
divers; which are things soon found, and holpen.

For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel, with an eye to
themselves; certainly, non inveniet fidem super terram is meant, of the
nature of times, and not of all particular persons. There be, that are
in nature faithful, and sincere, and plain, and direct; not crafty
and involved; let princes, above all, draw to themselves such
natures. Besides, counsellors are not commonly so united, but that one
counsellor, keepeth sentinel over another; so that if any do counsel out
of faction or private ends, it commonly comes to the king's ear. But
the best remedy is, if princes know their counsellors, as well as their
counsellors know them:


Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos.

And on the other side, counsellors should not be too speculative into
their sovereign's person. The true composition of a counsellor, is
rather to be skilful in their master's business, than in his nature; for
then he is like to advise him, and not feed his humor. It is of singular
use to princes, if they take the opinions of their counsel, both
separately and together. For private opinion is more free; but opinion
before others, is more reverent. In private, men are more bold in their
own humors; and in consort, men are more obnoxious to others' humors;
therefore it is good to take both; and of the inferior sort, rather
in private, to preserve freedom; of the greater, rather in consort, to
preserve respect. It is in vain for princes, to take counsel concerning
matters, if they take no counsel likewise concerning persons; for all
matters are as dead images; and the life of the execution of affairs,
resteth in the good choice of persons. Neither is it enough, to consult
concerning persons secundum genera, as in an idea, or mathematical
description, what the kind and character of the person should be; for
the greatest errors are committed, and the most judgment is shown, in
the choice of individuals. It was truly said, optimi consiliarii mortui:
books will speak plain, when counsellors blanch. Therefore it is good to
be conversant in them, specially the books of such as themselves have
been actors upon the stage.

The counsels at this day, in most places, are but familiar meetings,
where matters are rather talked on, than debated. And they run too
swift, to the order, or act, of counsel. It were better that in causes
of weight, the matter were propounded one day, and not spoken to till
the next day; in nocte consilium. So was it done in the Commission
of Union, between England and Scotland; which was a grave and orderly
assembly. I commend set days for petitions; for both it gives the
suitors more certainty for their attendance, and it frees the meetings
for matters of estate, that they may hoc agere. In choice of committees;
for ripening business for the counsel, it is better to choose
indifferent persons, than to make an indifferency, by putting in those,
that are strong on both sides. I commend also standing commissions; as
for trade, for treasure, for war, for suits, for some provinces; for
where there be divers particular counsels, and but one counsel of
estate (as it is in Spain), they are, in effect, no more than standing
commissions: save that they have greater authority. Let such as are
to inform counsels, out of their particular professions (as lawyers,
seamen, mintmen, and the like) be first heard before committees; and
then, as occasion serves, before the counsel. And let them not come in
multitudes, or in a tribunitious manner; for that is to clamor counsels,
not to inform them. A long table and a square table, or seats about the
walls, seem things of form, but are things of substance; for at a long
table a few at the upper end, in effect, sway all the business; but in
the other form, there is more use of the counsellors' opinions, that sit
lower. A king, when he presides in counsel, let him beware how he opens
his own inclination too much, in that which he propoundeth; for else
counsellors will but take the wind of him, and instead of giving free
counsel, sing him a song of placebo.




Of Delays


FORTUNE is like the market; where many times if you can stay a little,
the price will fall. Again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's offer; which
at first, offereth the commodity at full, then consumeth part and part,
and still holdeth up the price. For occasion (as it is in the common
verse) turneth a bald noddle, after she hath presented her locks in
front, and no hold taken; or at least turneth the handle of the bottle,
first to be received, and after the belly, which is hard to clasp.
There is surely no greater wisdom, than well to time the beginnings, and
onsets, of things. Dangers are no more light, if they once seem light;
and more dangers have deceived men, than forced them. Nay, it were
better, to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing near,
than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches; for if a man watch
too long, it is odds he will fall asleep. On the other side, to be
deceived with too long shadows (as some have been, when the moon was
low, and shone on their enemies' back), and so to shoot off before the
time; or to teach dangers to come on, by over early buckling towards
them; is another extreme. The ripeness, or unripeness, of the occasion
(as we said) must ever be well weighed; and generally it is good, to
commit the beginnings of all great actions to Argus, with his hundred
eyes, and the ends to Briareus, with his hundred hands; first to watch,
and then to speed. For the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man
go invisible, is secrecy in the counsel, and celerity in the execution.
For when things are once come to the execution, there is no secrecy,
comparable to celerity; like the motion of a bullet in the air, which
flieth so swift, as it outruns the eye.




Of Cunning


WE TAKE cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom. And certainly there is
a great difference, between a cunning man, and a wise man; not only in
point of honesty, but in point of ability. There be, that can pack the
cards, and yet cannot play well; so there are some that are good in
canvasses and factions, that are otherwise weak men. Again, it is one
thing to understand persons, and another thing to understand matters;
for many are perfect in men's humors, that are not greatly capable of
the real part of business; which is the constitution of one that hath
studied men, more than books. Such men are fitter for practice, than
for counsel; and they are good, but in their own alley: turn them to new
men, and they have lost their aim; so as the old rule, to know a fool
from a wise man, Mitte ambos nudos ad ignotos, et videbis, doth scarce
hold for them. And because these cunning men, are like haberdashers of
small wares, it is not amiss to set forth their shop.

It is a point of cunning, to wait upon him with whom you speak, with
your eye; as the Jesuits give it in precept: for there be many wise men,
that have secret hearts, and transparent countenances. Yet this would be
done with a demure abasing of your eye, sometimes, as the Jesuits also
do use.

Another is, that when you have anything to obtain, of present despatch,
you entertain and amuse the party, with whom you deal, with some other
discourse; that he be not too much awake to make objections. I knew a
counsellor and secretary, that never came to Queen Elizabeth of
England, with bills to sign, but he would always first put her into some
discourse of estate, that she mought the less mind the bills.

The like surprise may be made by moving things, when the party is in
haste, and cannot stay to consider advisedly of that is moved.

If a man would cross a business, that he doubts some other would
handsomely and effectually move, let him pretend to wish it well, and
move it himself in such sort as may foil it.

The breaking off, in the midst of that one was about to say, as if he
took himself up, breeds a greater appetite in him with whom you confer,
to know more.

And because it works better, when anything seemeth to be gotten from you
by question, than if you offer it of yourself, you may lay a bait for a
question, by showing another visage, and countenance, than you are wont;
to the end to give occasion, for the party to ask, what the matter is
of the change? As Nehemias did; And I had not before that time, been sad
before the king.

In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good to break the ice,
by some whose words are of less weight, and to reserve the more weighty
voice, to come in as by chance, so that he may be asked the question
upon the other's speech: as Narcissus did, relating to Claudius the
marriage of Messalina and Silius.

In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is a point of
cunning, to borrow the name of the world; as to say, The world says, or
There is a speech abroad.

I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, he would put that, which was
most material, in the postscript, as if it had been a by-matter.

I knew another that, when he came to have speech, he would pass over
that, that he intended most; and go forth, and come back again, and
speak of it as of a thing, that he had almost forgot.

Some procure themselves, to be surprised, at such times as it is like
the party that they work upon, will suddenly come upon them; and to be
found with a letter in their hand, or doing somewhat which they are not
accustomed; to the end, they may be apposed of those things, which of
themselves they are desirous to utter.

It is a point of cunning, to let fall those words in a man's own name,
which he would have another man learn, and use, and thereupon take
advantage. I knew two, that were competitors for the secretary's place
in Queen Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good quarter between themselves;
and would confer, one with another, upon the business; and the one of
them said, That to be a secretary, in the declination of a monarchy,
was a ticklish thing, and that he did not affect it: the other straight
caught up those words, and discoursed with divers of his friends, that
he had no reason to desire to be secretary, in the declination of a
monarchy. The first man took hold of it, and found means it was told the
Queen; who, hearing of a declination of a monarchy, took it so ill, as
she would never after hear of the other's suit.

There is a cunning, which we in England call, the turning of the cat in
the pan; which is, when that which a man says to another, he lays it as
if another had said it to him. And to say truth, it is not easy, when
such a matter passed between two, to make it appear from which of them
it first moved and began.

It is a way that some men have, to glance and dart at others, by
justifying themselves by negatives; as to say, This I do not; as
Tigellinus did towards Burrhus, Se non diversas spes, sed incolumitatem
imperatoris simpliciter spectare.

Some have in readiness so many tales and stories, as there is nothing
they would insinuate, but they can wrap it into a tale; which serveth
both to keep themselves more in guard, and to make others carry it with
more pleasure. It is a good point of cunning, for a man to shape the
answer he would have, in his own words and propositions; for it makes
the other party stick the less.
It is strange how long some men will lie in wait to speak somewhat they
desire to say; and how far about they will fetch; and how many other
matters they will beat over, to come near it. It is a thing of great
patience, but yet of much use.

A sudden, bold, and unexpected question doth many times surprise a man,
and lay him open. Like to him that, having changed his name, and walking
in Paul's, another suddenly came behind him, and called him by his true
name, whereat straightways he looked back.

But these small wares, and petty points, of cunning, are infinite; and
it were a good deed to make a list of them; for that nothing doth more
hurt in a state, than that cunning men pass for wise.

But certainly some there are that know the resorts and falls of
business, that cannot sink into the main of it; like a house that hath
convenient stairs and entries, but never a fair room. Therefore, you
shall see them find out pretty looses in the conclusion, but are no ways
able to examine or debate matters. And yet commonly they take advantage
of their inability, and would be thought wits of direction. Some build
rather upon the abusing of others, and (as we now say) putting tricks
upon them, than upon soundness of their own proceedings. But Solomon
saith, Prudens advertit ad gressus suos; stultus divertit ad dolos.




Of Wisdom For A Man's Self


AN ANT is a wise creature for itself, but it is a shrewd thing, in
an orchard or garden. And certainly, men that are great lovers of
themselves, waste the public. Divide with reason; between self-love and
society; and be so true to thyself, as thou be not false to others;
specially to thy king and country. It is a poor centre of a man's
actions, himself. It is right earth. For that only stands fast upon his
own centre; whereas all things, that have affinity with the heavens,
move upon the centre of another, which they benefit. The referring of
all to a man's self, is more tolerable in a sovereign prince; because
themselves are not only themselves, but their good and evil is at the
peril of the public fortune. But it is a desperate evil, in a servant to
a prince, or a citizen in a republic. For whatsoever affairs pass such a
man's hands, he crooketh them to his own ends; which must needs be often
eccentric to the ends of his master, or state. Therefore, let princes,
or states, choose such servants, as have not this mark; except they mean
their service should be made but the accessory. That which maketh
the effect more pernicious, is that all proportion is lost. It were
disproportion enough, for the servant's good to be preferred before the
master's; but yet it is a greater extreme, when a little good of the
servant, shall carry things against a great good of the master's. And
yet that is the case of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals,
and other false and corrupt servants; which set a bias upon their bowl,
of their own petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their master's
great and important affairs. And for the most part, the good such
servants receive, is after the model of their own fortune; but the hurt
they sell for that good, is after the model of their master's fortune.
And certainly it is the nature of extreme self-lovers, as they will set
an house on fire, and it were but to roast their eggs; and yet these men
many times hold credit with their masters, because their study is but
to please them, and profit themselves; and for either respect, they will
abandon the good of their affairs.

Wisdom for a man's self is, in many branches thereof, a depraved thing.
It is the wisdom of rats, that will be sure to leave a house, somewhat
before it fall. It is the wisdom of the fox, that thrusts out
the badger, who digged and made room for him. It is the wisdom of
crocodiles, that shed tears when they would devour. But that which is
specially to be noted is, that those which (as Cicero says of Pompey)
are sui amantes, sine rivali, are many times unfortunate. And whereas
they have, all their times, sacrificed to themselves, they become in the
end, themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of fortune, whose wings
they thought, by their self-wisdom, to have pinioned.




Of Innovations


AS THE births of living creatures, at first are ill-shapen, so are all
innovations, which are the births of time. Yet notwithstanding, as those
that first bring honor into their family, are commonly more worthy than
most that succeed, so the first precedent (if it be good) is seldom
attained by imitation. For ill, to man's nature, as it stands perverted,
hath a natural motion, strongest in continuance; but good, as a forced
motion, strongest at first. Surely every medicine is an innovation; and
he that will not apply new remedies, must expect new evils; for time is
the greatest innovator; and if time of course alter things to the worse,
and wisdom and counsel shall not alter them to the better, what shall
be the end? It is true, that what is settled by custom, though it be
not good, yet at least it is fit; and those things which have long gone
together, are, as it were, confederate within themselves; whereas new
things piece not so well; but though they help by their utility, yet
they trouble by their inconformity. Besides, they are like strangers;
more admired, and less favored. All this is true, if time stood still;
which contrariwise moveth so round, that a froward retention of custom,
is as turbulent a thing as an innovation; and they that reverence too
much old times, are but a scorn to the new. It were good, therefore,
that men in their innovations would follow the example of time itself;
which indeed innovateth greatly, but quietly, by degrees scarce to be
perceived. For otherwise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for; and ever
it mends some, and pairs others; and he that is holpen, takes it for
a fortune, and thanks the time; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and
imputeth it to the author. It is good also, not to try experiments in
states, except the necessity be urgent, or the utility evident; and well
to beware, that it be the reformation, that draweth on the change, and
not the desire of change, that pretendeth the reformation. And lastly,
that the novelty, though it be not rejected, yet be held for a suspect;
and, as the Scripture saith, that we make a stand upon the ancient way,
and then look about us, and discover what is the straight and right way,
and so to walk in it.




Of Dispatch


AFFECTED dispatch is one of the most dangerous things to business that
can be. It is like that, which the physicians call predigestion, or
hasty digestion; which is sure to fill the body full of crudities, and
secret seeds of diseases. Therefore measure not dispatch, by the times
of sitting, but by the advancement of the business. And as in races
it is not the large stride or high lift that makes the speed; so in
business, the keeping close to the matter, and not taking of it too much
at once, procureth dispatch. It is the care of some, only to come off
speedily for the time; or to contrive some false periods of business,
because they may seem men of dispatch. But it is one thing, to
abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off. And business so
handled, at several sittings or meetings, goeth commonly backward and
forward in an unsteady manner. I knew a wise man that had it for a
byword, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion, Stay a little, that we
may make an end the sooner.

On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing. For time is the
measure of business, as money is of wares; and business is bought at
a dear hand, where there is small dispatch. The Spartans and Spaniards
have been noted to be of small dispatch; Mi venga la muerte de Spagna;
Let my death come from Spain; for then it will be sure to be long in
coming.

Give good hearing to those, that give the first information in business;
and rather direct them in the beginning, than interrupt them in the
continuance of their speeches; for he that is put out of his own order,
will go forward and backward, and be more tedious, while he waits
upon his memory, than he could have been, if he had gone on in his
own course. But sometimes it is seen, that the moderator is more
troublesome, than the actor.

Iterations are commonly loss of time. But there is no such gain of time,
as to iterate often the state of the question; for it chaseth away many
a frivolous speech, as it is coming forth. Long and curious speeches,
are as fit for dispatch, as a robe or mantle, with a long train, is
for race. Prefaces and passages, and excusations, and other speeches of
reference to the person, are great wastes of time; and though they
seem to proceed of modesty, they are bravery. Yet beware of being too
material, when there is any impediment or obstruction in men's wills;
for pre-occupation of mind ever requireth preface of speech; like a
fomentation to make the unguent enter.

Above all things, order, and distribution, and singling out of parts, is
the life of dispatch; so as the distribution be not too subtle: for he
that doth not divide, will never enter well into business; and he that
divideth too much, will never come out of it clearly. To choose time, is
to save time; and an unseasonable motion, is but beating the air. There
be three parts of business; the preparation, the debate or examination,
and the perfection. Whereof, if you look for dispatch, let the middle
only be the work of many, and the first and last the work of few. The
proceeding upon somewhat conceived in writing, doth for the most part
facilitate dispatch: for though it should be wholly rejected, yet that
negative is more pregnant of direction, than an indefinite; as ashes are
more generative than dust.




Of Seeming Wise


IT HATH been an opinion, that the French are wiser than they seem, and
the Spaniards seem wiser than they are. But howsoever it be between
nations, certainly it is so between man and man. For as the Apostle
saith of godliness, Having a show of godliness, but denying the power
thereof; so certainly there are, in point of wisdom and sufficiency,
that do nothing or little very solemnly: magno conatu nugas. It is a
ridiculous thing, and fit for a satire to persons of judgment, to
see what shifts these formalists have, and what prospectives to make
superficies to seem body, that hath depth and bulk. Some are so close
and reserved, as they will not show their wares, but by a dark light;
and seem always to keep back somewhat; and when they know within
themselves, they speak of that they do not well know, would nevertheless
seem to others, to know of that which they may not well speak. Some
help themselves with countenance and gesture, and are wise by signs; as
Cicero saith of Piso, that when he answered him, he fetched one of
his brows up to his forehead, and bent the other down to his chin;
Respondes, altero ad frontem sublato, altero ad mentum depresso
supercilio, crudelitatem tibi non placere. Some think to bear it by
speaking a great word, and being peremptory; and go on, and take by
admittance, that which they cannot make good. Some, whatsoever is beyond
their reach, will seem to despise, or make light of it, as impertinent
or curious; and so would have their ignorance seem judgment. Some are
never without a difference, and commonly by amusing men with a subtilty,
blanch the matter; of whom A. Gellius saith, Hominem delirum, qui
verborum minutiis rerum frangit pondera. Of which kind also, Plato,
in his Protagoras, bringeth in Prodicus in scorn, and maketh him make a
speech, that consisteth of distinction from the beginning to the end.
Generally, such men in all deliberations find ease to be of the negative
side, and affect a credit to object and foretell difficulties; for
when propositions are denied, there is an end of them; but if they be
allowed, it requireth a new work; which false point of wisdom is the
bane of business. To conclude, there is no decaying merchant, or inward
beggar, hath so many tricks to uphold the credit of their wealth, as
these empty persons have, to maintain the credit of their sufficiency.
Seeming wise men may make shift to get opinion; but let no man choose
them for employment; for certainly you were better take for business, a
man somewhat absurd, than over-formal.




Of Friendship


IT HAD been hard for him that spake it to have put more truth and
untruth together in few words, than in that speech, Whatsoever is
delighted in solitude, is either a wild beast or a god. For it is most
true, that a natural and secret hatred, and aversation towards society,
in any man, hath somewhat of the savage beast; but it is most untrue,
that it should have any character at all, of the divine nature; except
it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude, but out of a love and
desire to sequester a man's self, for a higher conversation: such as
is found to have been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathen; as
Epimenides the Candian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and
Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really, in divers of the ancient
hermits and holy fathers of the church. But little do men perceive what
solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd is not company; and
faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal,
where there is no love. The Latin adage meeteth with it a little: Magna
civitas, magna solitudo; because in a great town friends are scattered;
so that there is not that fellowship, for the most part, which is in
less neighborhoods. But we may go further, and affirm most truly, that
it is a mere and miserable solitude to want true friends; without which
the world is but a wilderness; and even in this sense also of solitude,
whosoever in the frame of his nature and affections, is unfit for
friendship, he taketh it of the beast, and not from humanity.

A principal fruit of friendship, is the ease and discharge of the
fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause
and induce. We know diseases of stoppings, and suffocations, are the
most dangerous in the body; and it is not much otherwise in the mind;
you may take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flowers
of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain; but no receipt
openeth the heart, but a true friend; to whom you may impart griefs,
joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon the
heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or confession.

It is a strange thing to observe, how high a rate great kings and
monarchs do set upon this fruit of friendship, whereof we speak: so
great, as they purchase it, many times, at the hazard of their own
safety and greatness. For princes, in regard of the distance of their
fortune from that of their subjects and servants, cannot gather this
fruit, except (to make themselves capable thereof) they raise some
persons to be, as it were, companions and almost equals to themselves,
which many times sorteth to inconvenience. The modern languages give
unto such persons the name of favorites, or privadoes; as if it were
matter of grace, or conversation. But the Roman name attaineth the true
use and cause thereof, naming them participes curarum; for it is that
which tieth the knot. And we see plainly that this hath been done, not
by weak and passionate princes only, but by the wisest and most politic
that ever reigned; who have oftentimes joined to themselves some of
their servants; whom both themselves have called friends, and allowed
other likewise to call them in the same manner; using the word which is
received between private men.

L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised Pompey (after surnamed
the Great) to that height, that Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla's
overmatch. For when he had carried the consulship for a friend of
his, against the pursuit of Sylla, and that Sylla did a little resent
thereat, and began to speak great, Pompey turned upon him again, and in
effect bade him be quiet; for that more men adored the sun rising, than
the sun setting. With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus had obtained that
interest as he set him down in his testament, for heir in remainder,
after his nephew. And this was the man that had power with him, to
draw him forth to his death. For when Caesar would have discharged
the senate, in regard of some ill presages, and specially a dream of
Calpurnia; this man lifted him gently by the arm out of his chair,
telling him he hoped he would not dismiss the senate, till his wife
had dreamt a better dream. And it seemeth his favor was so great, as
Antonius, in a letter which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero's
Philippics, calleth him venefica, witch; as if he had enchanted Caesar.
Augustus raised Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that height, as when
he consulted with Maecenas, about the marriage of his daughter Julia,
Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, that he must either marry his
daughter to Agrippa, or take away his life; there was no third way, he
had made him so great. With Tiberius Caesar, Sejanus had ascended
to that height, as they two were termed, and reckoned, as a pair of
friends. Tiberius in a letter to him saith, Haec pro amicitia nostra non
occultavi; and the whole senate dedicated an altar to Friendship, as to
a goddess, in respect of the great dearness of friendship, between them
two. The like, or more, was between Septimius Severus and Plautianus.
For he forced his eldest son to marry the daughter of Plautianus; and
would often maintain Plautianus, in doing affronts to his son; and did
write also in a letter to the senate, by these words: I love the man so
well, as I wish he may over-live me. Now if these princes had been as
a Trajan, or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought that this had
proceeded of an abundant goodness of nature; but being men so wise, of
such strength and severity of mind, and so extreme lovers of themselves,
as all these were, it proveth most plainly that they found their own
felicity (though as great as ever happened to mortal men) but as an half
piece, except they mought have a friend, to make it entire; and yet,
which is more, they were princes that had wives, sons, nephews; and yet
all these could not supply the comfort of friendship.

It is not to be forgotten, what Comineus observeth of his first master,
Duke Charles the Hardy, namely, that he would communicate his secrets
with none; and least of all, those secrets which troubled him most.
Whereupon he goeth on, and saith that towards his latter time, that
closeness did impair, and a little perish his understanding. Surely
Comineus mought have made the same judgment also, if it had pleased him,
of his second master, Lewis the Eleventh, whose closeness was indeed his
tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras is dark, but true; Cor ne edito;
Eat not the heart. Certainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase,
those that want friends, to open themselves unto, are cannibals of
their own hearts. But one thing is most admirable (wherewith I
will conclude this first fruit of friendship), which is, that this
communicating of a man's self to his friend, works two contrary effects;
for it redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs in halves. For there is no
man, that imparteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the more;
and no man that imparteth his griefs to his friend, but he grieveth the
less. So that it is in truth, of operation upon a man's mind, of like
virtue as the alchemists use to attribute to their stone, for man's
body; that it worketh all contrary effects, but still to the good and
benefit of nature. But yet without praying in aid of alchemists, there
is a manifest image of this, in the ordinary course of nature. For in
bodies, union strengtheneth and cherisheth any natural action; and on
the other side, weakeneth and dulleth any violent impression: and even
so it is of minds.

The second fruit of friendship, is healthful and sovereign for the
understanding, as the first is for the affections. For friendship maketh
indeed a fair day in the affections, from storm and tempests; but it
maketh daylight in the understanding, out of darkness, and confusion
of thoughts. Neither is this to be understood only of faithful counsel,
which a man receiveth from his friend; but before you come to that,
certain it is, that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many thoughts,
his wits and understanding do clarify and break up, in the communicating
and discoursing with another; he tosseth his thoughts more easily; he
marshalleth them more orderly, he seeth how they look when they are
turned into words: finally, he waxeth wiser than himself; and that more
by an hour's discourse, than by a day's meditation. It was well said
by Themistocles, to the king of Persia, That speech was like cloth of
Arras, opened and put abroad; whereby the imagery doth appear in figure;
whereas in thoughts they lie but as in packs. Neither is this second
fruit of friendship, in opening the understanding, restrained only to
such friends as are able to give a man counsel; (they indeed are best;)
but even without that, a man learneth of himself, and bringeth his
own thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as against a stone, which
itself cuts not. In a word, a man were better relate himself to a
statua, or picture, than to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother.

Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship complete, that other
point, which lieth more open, and falleth within vulgar observation;
which is faithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saith well in one
of his enigmas, Dry light is ever the best. And certain it is, that the
light that a man receiveth by counsel from another, is drier and purer,
than that which cometh from his own understanding and judgment; which is
ever infused, and drenched, in his affections and customs. So as there
is as much difference between the counsel, that a friend giveth, and
that a man giveth himself, as there is between the counsel of a friend,
and of a flatterer. For there is no such flatterer as is a man's self;
and there is no such remedy against flattery of a man's self, as
the liberty of a friend. Counsel is of two sorts: the one concerning
manners, the other concerning business. For the first, the best
preservative to keep the mind in health, is the faithful admonition of a
friend. The calling of a man's self to a strict account, is a medicine,
sometime too piercing and corrosive. Reading good books of morality,
is a little flat and dead. Observing our faults in others, is sometimes
improper for our case. But the best receipt (best, I say, to work, and
best to take) is the admonition of a friend. It is a strange thing to
behold, what gross errors and extreme absurdities many (especially of
the greater sort) do commit, for want of a friend to tell them of them;
to the great damage both of their fame and fortune: for, as St. James
saith, they are as men that look sometimes into a glass, and presently
forget their own shape and favor. As for business, a man may think, if
he win, that two eyes see no more than one; or that a gamester seeth
always more than a looker-on; or that a man in anger, is as wise as he
that hath said over the four and twenty letters; or that a musket may be
shot off as well upon the arm, as upon a rest; and such other fond and
high imaginations, to think himself all in all. But when all is done,
the help of good counsel, is that which setteth business straight. And
if any man think that he will take counsel, but it shall be by pieces;
asking counsel in one business, of one man, and in another business,
of another man; it is well (that is to say, better, perhaps, than if he
asked none at all); but he runneth two dangers: one, that he shall not
be faithfully counselled; for it is a rare thing, except it be from a
perfect and entire friend, to have counsel given, but such as shall
be bowed and crooked to some ends, which he hath, that giveth it. The
other, that he shall have counsel given, hurtful and unsafe (though with
good meaning), and mixed partly of mischief and partly of remedy; even
as if you would call a physician, that is thought good for the cure of
the disease you complain of, but is unacquainted with your body; and
therefore may put you in way for a present cure, but overthroweth
your health in some other kind; and so cure the disease, and kill the
patient. But a friend that is wholly acquainted with a man's estate,
will beware, by furthering any present business, how he dasheth upon
other inconvenience. And therefore rest not upon scattered counsels;
they will rather distract and mislead, than settle and direct.

After these two noble fruits of friendship (peace in the affections, and
support of the judgment), followeth the last fruit; which is like the
pomegranate, full of many kernels; I mean aid, and bearing a part, in
all actions and occasions. Here the best way to represent to life the
manifold use of friendship, is to cast and see how many things there
are, which a man cannot do himself; and then it will appear, that it
was a sparing speech of the ancients, to say, that a friend is another
himself; for that a friend is far more than himself. Men have
their time, and die many times, in desire of some things which they
principally take to heart; the bestowing of a child, the finishing of
a work, or the like. If a man have a true friend, he may rest almost
secure that the care of those things will continue after him. So that a
man hath, as it were, two lives in his desires. A man hath a body, and
that body is confined to a place; but where friendship is, all offices
of life are as it were granted to him, and his deputy. For he may
exercise them by his friend. How many things are there which a man
cannot, with any face or comeliness, say or do himself? A man can scarce
allege his own merits with modesty, much less extol them; a man cannot
sometimes brook to supplicate or beg; and a number of the like. But all
these things are graceful, in a friend's mouth, which are blushing in a
man's own. So again, a man's person hath many proper relations, which
he cannot put off. A man cannot speak to his son but as a father; to his
wife but as a husband; to his enemy but upon terms: whereas a friend may
speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with the person. But
to enumerate these things were endless; I have given the rule, where a
man cannot fitly play his own part; if he have not a friend, he may quit
the stage.




Of Expense


RICHES are for spending, and spending for honor and good actions.
Therefore extraordinary expense must be limited by the worth of the
occasion; for voluntary undoing, may be as well for a man's country, as
for the kingdom of heaven. But ordinary expense, ought to be limited
by a man's estate; and governed with such regard, as it be within his
compass; and not subject to deceit and abuse of servants; and ordered
to the best show, that the bills may be less than the estimation abroad.
Certainly, if a man will keep but of even hand, his ordinary expenses
ought to be but to the half of his receipts; and if he think to wax
rich, but to the third part. It is no baseness, for the greatest to
descend and look into their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon
negligence alone, but doubting to bring themselves into melancholy, in
respect they shall find it broken. But wounds cannot be cured without
searching. He that cannot look into his own estate at all, had need both
choose well those whom he employeth, and change them often; for new
are more timorous and less subtle. He that can look into his estate but
seldom, it behooveth him to turn all to certainties. A man had need, if
he be plentiful in some kind of expense, to be as saving again in some
other. As if he be plentiful in diet, to be saving in apparel; if he be
plentiful in the hall, to be saving in the stable; and the like. For
he that is plentiful in expenses of all kinds, will hardly be preserved
from decay. In clearing of a man's estate, he may as well hurt himself
in being too sudden, as in letting it run on too long. For hasty
selling, is commonly as disadvantageable as interest. Besides, he that
clears at once will relapse; for finding himself out of straits, he will
revert to his custom: but he that cleareth by degrees, induceth a habit
of frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind, as upon his estate.
Certainly, who hath a state to repair, may not despise small things;
and commonly it is less dishonorable, to abridge petty charges, than to
stoop to petty gettings. A man ought warily to begin charges which once
begun will continue; but in matters that return not, he may be more
magnificent.




Of the True Greatness Of Kingdoms And Estates


THE speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was haughty and arrogant,
in taking so much to himself, had been a grave and wise observation and
censure, applied at large to others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute,
he said, He could not fiddle, but yet he could make a small town, a
great city. These words (holpen a little with a metaphor) may express
two differing abilities, in those that deal in business of estate. For
if a true survey be taken of counsellors and statesmen, there may be
found (though rarely) those which can make a small state great, and yet
cannot fiddle; as on the other side, there will be found a great many,
that can fiddle very cunningly, but yet are so far from being able to
make a small state great, as their gift lieth the other way; to bring
a great and flourishing estate, to ruin and decay. And certainly whose
degenerate arts and shifts, whereby many counsellors and governors gain
both favor with their masters, and estimation with the vulgar, deserve
no better name than fiddling; being things rather pleasing for the
time, and graceful to themselves only, than tending to the weal and
advancement of the state which they serve. There are also (no doubt)
counsellors and governors which may be held sufficient (negotiis pares),
able to manage affairs, and to keep them from precipices and manifest
inconveniences; which nevertheless are far from the ability to raise and
amplify an estate in power, means, and fortune. But be the workmen what
they may be, let us speak of the work; that is, the true greatness of
kingdoms and estates, and the means thereof. An argument fit for great
and mighty princes to have in their hand; to the end that neither by
over-measuring their forces, they leese themselves in vain enterprises;
nor on the other side, by undervaluing them, they descend to fearful and
pusillanimous counsels.

The greatness of an estate, in bulk and territory, doth fall under
measure; and the greatness of finances and revenue, doth fall under
computation. The population may appear by musters; and the number and
greatness of cities and towns by cards and maps. But yet there is not
any thing amongst civil affairs more subject to error, than the right
valuation and true judgment concerning the power and forces of an
estate. The kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any great kernel or
nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed: which is one of the least grains,
but hath in it a property and spirit hastily to get up and spread. So
are there states, great in territory, and yet not apt to enlarge or
command; and some that have but a small dimension of stem, and yet apt
to be the foundations of great monarchies.

Walled towns, stored arsenals and armories, goodly races of horse,
chariots of war, elephants, ordnance, artillery, and the like; all this
is but a sheep in a lion's skin, except the breed and disposition of the
people, be stout and warlike. Nay, number (itself) in armies importeth
not much, where the people is of weak courage; for (as Virgil saith) It
never troubles a wolf, how many the sheep be. The army of the Persians,
in the plains of Arbela, was such a vast sea of people, as it did
somewhat astonish the commanders in Alexander's army; who came to him
therefore, and wished him to set upon them by night; and he answered, He
would not pilfer the victory. And the defeat was easy. When Tigranes
the Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with four hundred thousand men,
discovered the army of the Romans, being not above fourteen thousand,
marching towards him, he made himself merry with it, and said, Yonder
men are too many for an embassage, and too few for a fight. But before
the sun set, he found them enow to give him the chase with infinite
slaughter. Many are the examples of the great odds, between number and
courage; so that a man may truly make a judgment, that the principal
point of greatness in any state, is to have a race of military men.
Neither is money the sinews of war (as it is trivially said), where the
sinews of men's arms, in base and effeminate people, are failing. For
Solon said well to Croesus (when in ostentation he showed him his gold),
Sir, if any other come, that hath better iron, than you, he will be
master of all this gold. Therefore let any prince or state think solely
of his forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiant
soldiers. And let princes, on the other side, that have subjects of
martial disposition, know their own strength; unless they be otherwise
wanting unto themselves. As for mercenary forces (which is the help in
this case), all examples show, that whatsoever estate or prince doth
rest upon them, he may spread his feathers for a time, but he will mew
them soon after.

The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never meet; that the same
people, or nation, should be both the lion's whelp and the ass between
burthens; neither will it be, that a people overlaid with taxes, should
ever become valiant and martial. It is true that taxes levied by
consent of the estate, do abate men's courage less: as it hath been seen
notably, in the excises of the Low Countries; and, in some degree, in
the subsidies of England. For you must note, that we speak now of the
heart, and not of the purse. So that although the same tribute and tax,
laid by consent or by imposing, be all one to the purse, yet it works
diversely upon the courage. So that you may conclude, that no people
overcharged with tribute, is fit for empire.

Let states that aim at greatness, take heed how their nobility and
gentlemen do multiply too fast.