No More Learning

They that desire to excel in too many matters, out of levity and vain
glory, are ever envious. For they cannot want work; it being impossible,
but many, in some one of those things, should surpass them. Which was
the character of Adrian the Emperor; that mortally envied poets, and
painters, and artificers, in works wherein he had a vein to excel.

Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, and those that have been
bred together, are more apt to envy their equals, when they are raised.
For it doth upbraid unto them their own fortunes, and pointeth at them,
and cometh oftener into their remembrance, and incurreth likewise more
into the note of others; and envy ever redoubleth from speech and fame.
Cain's envy was the more vile and malignant, towards his brother Abel,
because when his sacrifice was better accepted, there was no body to
look on. Thus much for those, that are apt to envy.

Concerning those that are more or less subject to envy: First, persons
of eminent virtue, when they are advanced, are less envied. For their
fortune seemeth, but due unto them; and no man envieth the payment of a
debt, but rewards and liberality rather. Again, envy is ever joined
with the comparing of a man's self; and where there is no comparison, no
envy; and therefore kings are not envied, but by kings. Nevertheless it
is to be noted, that unworthy persons are most envied, at their first
coming in, and afterwards overcome it better; whereas contrariwise,
persons of worth and merit are most envied, when their fortune
continueth long. For by that time, though their virtue be the same, yet
it hath not the same lustre; for fresh men grow up that darken it.

Persons of noble blood, are less envied in their rising. For it seemeth
but right done to their birth. Besides, there seemeth not much added
to their fortune; and envy is as the sunbeams, that beat hotter upon a
bank, or steep rising ground, than upon a flat. And for the same reason,
those that are advanced by degrees, are less envied than those that are
advanced suddenly and per saltum.

Those that have joined with their honor great travels, cares, or perils,
are less subject to envy. For men think that they earn their honors
hardly, and pity them sometimes; and pity ever healeth envy. Wherefore
you shall observe, that the more deep and sober sort of politic persons,
in their greatness, are ever bemoaning themselves, what a life they
lead; chanting a quanta patimur! Not that they feel it so, but only to
abate the edge of envy. But this is to be understood, of business
that is laid upon men, and not such, as they call unto themselves.
For nothing increaseth envy more, than an unnecessary and ambitious
engrossing of business. And nothing doth extinguish envy more, than for
a great person to preserve all other inferior officers, in their full
lights and pre-eminences of their places. For by that means, there be so
many screens between him and envy.

Above all, those are most subject to envy, which carry the greatness of
their fortunes, in an insolent and proud manner; being never well, but
while they are showing how great they are, either by outward pomp, or
by triumphing over all opposition or competition; whereas wise men
will rather do sacrifice to envy, in suffering themselves sometimes of
purpose to be crossed, and overborne in things that do not much concern
them. Notwithstanding, so much is true, that the carriage of greatness,
in a plain and open manner (so it be without arrogancy and vain glory)
doth draw less envy, than if it be in a more crafty and cunning fashion.
For in that course, a man doth but disavow fortune; and seemeth to be
conscious of his own want in worth; and doth but teach others, to envy
him.

Lastly, to conclude this part; as we said in the beginning, that the act
of envy had somewhat in it of witchcraft, so there is no other cure of
envy, but the cure of witchcraft; and that is, to remove the lot (as
they call it) and to lay it upon another. For which purpose, the wiser
sort of great persons, bring in ever upon the stage somebody upon whom
to derive the envy, that would come upon themselves; sometimes upon
ministers and servants; sometimes upon colleagues and associates; and
the like; and for that turn there are never wanting, some persons
of violent and undertaking natures, who, so they may have power and
business, will take it at any cost.

Now, to speak of public envy. There is yet some good in public envy,
whereas in private, there is none. For public envy, is as an ostracism,
that eclipseth men, when they grow too great. And therefore it is a
bridle also to great ones, to keep them within bounds.

This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth in the modern
language, by the name of discontentment; of which we shall speak, in
handling sedition. It is a disease, in a state, like to infection. For
as infection spreadeth upon that which is sound, and tainteth it;
so when envy is gotten once into a state, it traduceth even the best
actions thereof, and turneth them into an ill odor. And therefore there
is little won, by intermingling of plausible actions. For that doth
argue but a weakness, and fear of envy, which hurteth so much the more,
as it is likewise usual in infections; which if you fear them, you call
them upon you.

This public envy, seemeth to beat chiefly upon principal officers or
ministers, rather than upon kings, and estates themselves. But this is
a sure rule, that if the envy upon the minister be great, when the cause
of it in him is small; or if the envy be general, in a manner upon all
the ministers of an estate; then the envy (though hidden) is truly upon
the state itself. And so much of public envy or discontentment, and the
difference thereof from private envy, which was handled in the first
place.

We will add this in general, touching the affection of envy; that of all
other affections, it is the most importune and continual. For of other
affections, there is occasion given, but now and then; and therefore it
was well said, Invidia festos dies non agit: for it is ever working upon
some or other. And it is also noted, that love and envy do make a man
pine, which other affections do not, because they are not so continual.
It is also the vilest affection, and the most depraved; for which cause
it is the proper attribute of the devil, who is called, the envious man,
that soweth tares amongst the wheat by night; as it always cometh to
pass, that envy worketh subtilly, and in the dark, and to the prejudice
of good things, such as is the wheat.




Of Love


THE stage is more beholding to love, than the life of man. For as to the
stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies;
but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like a siren, sometimes
like a fury. You may observe, that amongst all the great and worthy
persons (whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent) there
is not one, that hath been transported to the mad degree of love: which
shows that great spirits, and great business, do keep out this weak
passion. You must except, nevertheless, Marcus Antonius, the half
partner of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius, the decemvir
and lawgiver; whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and
inordinate; but the latter was an austere and wise man: and therefore it
seems (though rarely) that love can find entrance, not only into an open
heart, but also into a heart well fortified, if watch be not well kept.
It is a poor saying of Epicurus, Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum
sumus; as if man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and all noble
objects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make
himself a subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the
eye; which was given him for higher purposes. It is a strange thing, to
note the excess of this passion, and how it braves the nature, and
value of things, by this; that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole, is
comely in nothing but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for
whereas it hath been well said, that the arch-flatterer, with whom all
the petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's self; certainly the
lover is more. For there was never proud man thought so absurdly well
of himself, as the lover doth of the person loved; and therefore it was
well said, That it is impossible to love, and to be wise. Neither doth
this weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved; but to
the loved most of all, except the love be reciproque. For it is a true
rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the reciproque, or with an
inward and secret contempt. By how much the more, men ought to beware of
this passion, which loseth not only other things, but itself! As for the
other losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them: that he that
preferred Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas. For whosoever
esteemeth too much of amorous affection, quitteth both riches and
wisdom. This passion hath his floods, in very times of weakness; which
are great prosperity, and great adversity; though this latter hath been
less observed: both which times kindle love, and make it more fervent,
and therefore show it to be the child of folly. They do best, who if
they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarters; and sever it
wholly from their serious affairs, and actions, of life; for if it check
once with business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men, that
they can no ways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but martial
men are given to love: I think, it is but as they are given to wine; for
perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man's nature,
a secret inclination and motion, towards love of others, which if it be
not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards
many, and maketh men become humane and charitable; as it is seen
sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind; friendly love
perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth, and embaseth it.




Of Great Place


MEN in great place are thrice servants: servants of the sovereign or
state; servants of fame; and servants of business. So as they have no
freedom; neither in their persons, nor in their actions, nor in their
times. It is a strange desire, to seek power and to lose liberty: or to
seek power over others, and to lose power over a man's self. The rising
unto place is laborious; and by pains, men come to greater pains; and
it is sometimes base; and by indignities, men come to dignities. The
standing is slippery, and the regress is either a downfall, or at least
an eclipse, which is a melancholy thing. Cum non sis qui fueris, non
esse cur velis vivere. Nay, retire men cannot when they would, neither
will they, when it were reason; but are impatient of privateness, even
in age and sickness, which require the shadow; like old townsmen, that
will be still sitting at their street door, though thereby they offer
age to scom. Certainly great persons had need to borrow other men's
opinions, to think themselves happy; for if they judge by their own
feeling, they cannot find it; but if they think with themselves, what
other men think of them, and that other men would fain be, as they are,
then they are happy, as it were, by report; when perhaps they find the
contrary within. For they are the first, that find their own griefs,
though they be the last, that find their own faults. Certainly men in
great fortunes are strangers to themselves, and while they are in the
puzzle of business, they have no time to tend their health, either of
body or mind. Illi mors gravis incubat, qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus
moritur sibi. In place, there is license to do good, and evil; whereof
the latter is a curse: for in evil, the best condition is not to win;
the second, not to can. But power to do good, is the true and lawful
end of aspiring. For good thoughts (though God accept them) yet, towards
men, are little better than good dreams, except they be put in act; and
that cannot be, without power and place, as the vantage, and commanding
ground. Merit and good works, is the end of man's motion; and conscience
of the same is the accomplishment of man's rest. For if a man can be
partaker of God's theatre, he shall likewise be partaker of God's rest.
Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera quae fecerunt manus suae, vidit
quod omnia essent bona nimis; and then the sabbath. In the discharge of
thy place, set before thee the best examples; for imitation is a globe
of precepts. And after a time, set before thee thine own example; and
examine thyself strictly, whether thou didst not best at first. Neglect
not also the examples, of those that have carried themselves ill, in
the same place; not to set off thyself, by taxing their memory, but to
direct thyself, what to avoid. Reform therefore, without bravery, or
scandal of former times and persons; but yet set it down to thyself, as
well to create good precedents, as to follow them. Reduce things to the
first institution, and observe wherein, and how, they have degenerate;
but yet ask counsel of both times; of the ancient time, what is best;
and of the latter time, what is fittest. Seek to make thy course
regular, that men may know beforehand, what they may expect; but be
not too positive and peremptory; and express thyself well, when thou
digressest from thy rule. Preserve the right of thy place; but stir not
questions of jurisdiction; and rather assume thy right, in silence and
de facto, than voice it with claims, and challenges. Preserve likewise
the rights of inferior places; and think it more honor, to direct in
chief, than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite helps, and advices,
touching the execution of thy place; and do not drive away such, as
bring thee information, as meddlers; but accept of them in good part.
The vices of authority are chiefly four: delays, corruption, roughness,
and facility. For delays: give easy access; keep times appointed; go
through with that which is in hand, and interlace not business, but
of necessity. For corruption: do not only bind thine own hands, or thy
servants' hands, from taking, but bind the hands of suitors also, from
offering. For integrity used doth the one; but integrity professed, and
with a manifest detestation of bribery, doth the other. And avoid not
only the fault, but the suspicion. Whosoever is found variable,
and changeth manifestly without manifest cause, giveth suspicion of
corruption. Therefore always, when thou changest thine opinion or
course, profess it plainly, and declare it, together with the reasons
that move thee to change; and do not think to steal it. A servant or
a favorite, if he be inward, and no other apparent cause of esteem, is
commonly thought, but a by-way to close corruption. For roughness: it
is a needless cause of discontent: severity breedeth fear, but roughness
breedeth hate. Even reproofs from authority, ought to be grave, and not
taunting. As for facility: it is worse than bribery. For bribes come but
now and then; but if importunity, or idle respects, lead a man, he shall
never be without. As Solomon saith, To respect persons is not good; for
such a man will transgress for a piece of bread. It is most true, that
was anciently spoken, A place showeth the man. And it showeth some to
the better, and some to the worse. Omnium consensu capax imperii, nisi
imperasset, saith Tacitus of Galba; but of Vespasian he saith, Solus
imperantium, Vespasianus mutatus in melius; though the one was meant of
sufficiency, the other of manners, and affection. It is an assured sign
of a worthy and generous spirit, whom honor amends. For honor is, or
should be, the place of virtue; and as in nature, things move violently
to their place, and calmly in their place, so virtue in ambition is
violent, in authority settled and calm. All rising to great place is
by a winding star; and if there be factions, it is good to side a man's
self, whilst he is in the rising, and to balance himself when he is
placed. Use the memory of thy predecessor, fairly and tenderly; for if
thou dost not, it is a debt will sure be paid when thou art gone. If
thou have colleagues, respect them, and rather call them, when they
look not for it, than exclude them, when they have reason to look to
be called. Be not too sensible, or too remembering, of thy place in
conversation, and private answers to suitors; but let it rather be said,
When he sits in place, he is another man.




Of Boldness


IT IS a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy a wise man's
consideration. Question was asked of Demosthenes, what was the chief
part of an orator? he answered, action; what next? action; what next
again? action. He said it, that knew it best, and had, by nature,
himself no advantage in that he commended. A strange thing, that that
part of an orator, which is but superficial, and rather the virtue of
a player, should be placed so high, above those other noble parts, of
invention, elocution, and the rest; nay, almost alone, as if it were
all in all. But the reason is plain. There is in human nature generally,
more of the fool than of the wise; and therefore those faculties,
by which the foolish part of men's minds is taken, are most potent.
Wonderful like is the case of boldness in civil business: what first?
boldness; what second and third? boldness. And yet boldness is a child
of ignorance and baseness, far inferior to other parts. But nevertheless
it doth fascinate, and bind hand and foot, those that are either shallow
in judgment, or weak in courage, which are the greatest part; yea and
prevaileth with wise men at weak times. Therefore we see it hath done
wonders, in popular states; but with senates, and princes less; and
more ever upon the first entrance of bold persons into action, than soon
after; for boldness is an ill keeper of promise. Surely, as there are
mountebanks for the natural body, so are there mountebanks for the
politic body; men that undertake great cures, and perhaps have been
lucky, in two or three experiments, but want the grounds of science, and
therefore cannot hold out. Nay, you shall see a bold fellow many times
do Mahomet's miracle. Mahomet made the people believe that he would call
an hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers, for the
observers of his law. The people assembled; Mahomet called the hill
to come to him, again and again; and when the hill stood still, he was
never a whit abashed, but said, If the hill will not come to Mahomet,
Mahomet will go to the hill. So these men, when they have promised great
matters, and failed most shamefully, yet (if they have the perfection
of boldness) they will but slight it over, and make a turn, and no more
ado. Certainly to men of great judgment, bold persons are a sport
to behold; nay, and to the vulgar also, boldness has somewhat of the
ridiculous. For if absurdity be the subject of laughter, doubt you not
but great boldness is seldom without some absurdity. Especially it is
a sport to see, when a bold fellow is out of countenance; for that puts
his face into a most shrunken, and wooden posture; as needs it must; for
in bashfulness, the spirits do a little go and come; but with bold men,
upon like occasion, they stand at a stay; like a stale at chess, where
it is no mate, but yet the game cannot stir. But this last were fitter
for a satire than for a serious observation. This is well to be
weighed; that boldness is ever blind; for it seeth not danger, and
inconveniences. Therefore it is ill in counsel, good in execution; so
that the right use of bold persons is, that they never command in chief,
but be seconds, and under the direction of others. For in counsel, it is
good to see dangers; and in execution, not to see them, except they be
very great.




Of Goodness and Goodness Of Nature


I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting of the weal of men, which
is that the Grecians call philanthropia; and the word humanity (as it
is used) is a little too light to express it. Goodness I call the
habit, and goodness of nature, the inclination. This of all virtues,
and dignities of the mind, is the greatest; being the character of the
Deity: and without it, man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing;
no better than a kind of vermin. Goodness answers to the theological
virtue, charity, and admits no excess, but error. The desire of power
in excess, caused the angels to fall; the desire of knowledge in excess,
caused man to fall: but in charity there is no excess; neither can
angel, nor man, come in danger by it. The inclination to goodness, is
imprinted deeply in the nature of man; insomuch, that if it issue not
towards men, it will take unto other living creatures; as it is seen in
the Turks, a cruel people, who nevertheless are kind to beasts, and give
alms, to dogs and birds; insomuch, as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian
boy, in Constantinople, had like to have been stoned, for gagging in
a waggishness a long-billed fowl. Errors indeed in this virtue of
goodness, or charity, may be committed. The Italians have an ungracious
proverb, Tanto buon che val niente: so good, that he is good for
nothing. And one of the doctors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel, had the
confidence to put in writing, almost in plain terms, That the Christian
faith, had given up good men, in prey to those that are tyrannical and
unjust. Which he spake, because indeed there was never law, or sect, or
opinion, did so much magnify goodness, as the Christian religion doth.
Therefore, to avoid the scandal and the danger both, it is good, to take
knowledge of the errors of an habit so excellent. Seek the good of other
men, but be not in bondage to their faces or fancies; for that is but
facility, or softness; which taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither
give thou AEsop's cock a gem, who would be better pleased, and happier,
if he had had a barley-corn. The example of God, teacheth the lesson
truly: He sendeth his rain, and maketh his sun to shine, upon the just
and unjust; but he doth not rain wealth, nor shine honor and virtues,
upon men equally. Common benefits, are to be communicate with all;
but peculiar benefits, with choice. And beware how in making the
portraiture, thou breakest the pattern. For divinity, maketh the love of
ourselves the pattern; the love of our neighbors, but the portraiture.
Sell all thou hast, and give it to the poor, and follow me: but, sell
not all thou hast, except thou come and follow me; that is, except thou
have a vocation, wherein thou mayest do as much good, with little means
as with great; for otherwise, in feeding the streams, thou driest the
fountain. Neither is there only a habit of goodness, directed by right
reason; but there is in some men, even in nature, a disposition towards
it; as on the other side, there is a natural malignity. For there be,
that in their nature do not affect the good of others. The lighter sort
of malignity, turneth but to a crassness, or frowardness, or aptness to
oppose, or difficulties, or the like; but the deeper sort, to envy and
mere mischief. Such men, in other men's calamities, are, as it were, in
season, and are ever on the loading part: not so good as the dogs, that
licked Lazarus' sores; but like flies, that are still buzzing upon any
thing that is raw; misanthropi, that make it their practice, to bring
men to the bough, and yet never a tree for the purpose in their gardens,
as Timon had. Such dispositions, are the very errors of human nature;
and yet they are the fittest timber, to make great politics of; like to
knee timber, that is good for ships, that are ordained to be tossed; but
not for building houses, that shall stand firm. The parts and signs of
goodness, are many. If a man be gracious and courteous to strangers, it
shows he is a citizen of the world, and that his heart is no island,
cut off from other lands, but a continent, that joins to them. If he be
compassionate towards the afflictions of others, it shows that his heart
is like the noble tree, that is wounded itself, when it gives the balm.
If he easily pardons, and remits offences, it shows that his mind is
planted above injuries; so that he cannot be shot. If he be thankful
for small benefits, it shows that he weighs men's minds, and not their
trash. But above all, if he have St. Paul's perfection, that he would
wish to be anathema from Christ, for the salvation of his brethren,
it shows much of a divine nature, and a kind of conformity with Christ
himself.




Of Nobility


WE WILL speak of nobility, first as a portion of an estate, then as a
condition of particular persons. A monarchy, where there is no nobility
at all, is ever a pure and absolute tyranny; as that of the Turks.
For nobility attempers sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the people,
somewhat aside from the line royal. But for democracies, they need it
not; and they are commonly more quiet, and less subject to sedition,
than where there are stirps of nobles. For men's eyes are upon the
business, and not upon the persons; or if upon the persons, it is for
the business' sake, as fittest, and not for flags and pedigree. We see
the Switzers last well, notwithstanding their diversity of religion,
and of cantons. For utility is their bond, and not respects. The united
provinces of the Low Countries, in their government, excel; for where
there is an equality, the consultations are more indifferent, and the
payments and tributes, more cheerful. A great and potent nobility,
addeth majesty to a monarch, but diminisheth power; and putteth life
and spirit into the people, but presseth their fortune. It is well,
when nobles are not too great for sovereignty nor for justice; and yet
maintained in that height, as the insolency of inferiors may be broken
upon them, before it come on too fast upon the majesty of kings. A
numerous nobility causeth poverty, and inconvenience in a state; for it
is a surcharge of expense; and besides, it being of necessity, that many
of the nobility fall, in time, to be weak in fortune, it maketh a kind
of disproportion, between honor and means.

As for nobility in particular persons; it is a reverend thing, to see an
ancient castle or building, not in decay; or to see a fair timber tree,
sound and perfect. How much more, to behold an ancient noble family,
which has stood against the waves and weathers of time! For new nobility
is but the act of power, but ancient nobility is the act of time. Those
that are first raised to nobility, are commonly more virtuous, but less
innocent, than their descendants; for there is rarely any rising, but
by a commixture of good and evil arts. But it is reason, the memory
of their virtues remain to their posterity, and their faults die with
themselves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth industry; and he that is
not industrious, envieth him that is. Besides, noble persons cannot
go much higher; and he that standeth at a stay, when others rise, can
hardly avoid motions of envy. On the other side, nobility extinguisheth
the passive envy from others, towards them; because they are in
possession of honor. Certainly, kings that have able men of their
nobility, shall find ease in employing them, and a better slide into
their business; for people naturally bend to them, as born in some sort
to command.




Of Seditions And Troubles


SHEPHERDS of people, had need know the calendars of tempests in state;
which are commonly greatest, when things grow to equality; as natural
tempests are greatest about the Equinoctia. And as there are certain
hollow blasts of wind, and secret swellings of seas before a tempest, so
are there in states:


--Ille etiam caecos instare tumultus
Saepe monet, fraudesque et operta tunescere bella.


Libels and licentious discourses against the state, when they are
frequent and open; and in like sort, false news often running up and
down, to the disadvantage of the state, and hastily embraced; are
amongst the signs of troubles. Virgil, giving the pedigree of Fame,
saith, she was sister to the Giants:


Illam Terra parens, irra irritata deorum, Extremam (ut perhibent) Coeo
Enceladoque sororem Progenuit.

As if fames were the relics of seditions past; but they are no less,
indeed, the preludes of seditions to come. Howsoever he noteth it right,
that seditious tumults, and seditious fames, differ no more but as
brother and sister, masculine and feminine; especially if it come to
that, that the best actions of a state, and the most plausible, and
which ought to give greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense, and
traduced: for that shows the envy great, as Tacitus saith; conflata
magna invidia, seu bene seu male gesta premunt. Neither doth it follow,
that because these fames are a sign of troubles, that the suppressing
of them with too much severity, should be a remedy of troubles. For the
despising of them, many times checks them best; and the going about
to stop them, doth but make a wonder long-lived. Also that kind of
obedience, which Tacitus speaketh of, is to be held suspected: Erant
in officio, sed tamen qui mallent mandata imperantium interpretari quam
exequi; disputing, excusing, cavilling upon mandates and directions, is
a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay of disobedience; especially if
in those disputings, they which are for the direction, speak fearfully
and tenderly, and those that are against it, audaciously.

Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes, that ought to be common
parents, make themselves as a party, and lean to a side, it is as a
boat, that is overthrown by uneven weight on the one side; as was well
seen, in the time of Henry the Third of France; for first, himself
entered league for the extirpation of the Protestants; and presently
after, the same league was turned upon himself. For when the authority
of princes, is made but an accessory to a cause, and that there be other
bands, that tie faster than the band of sovereignty, kings begin to be
put almost out of possession.

Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions are carried openly and
audaciously, it is a sign the reverence of government is lost.
For the
motions of the greatest persons in a government, ought to be as the
motions of the planets under primum mobile; according to the old
opinion: which is, that every of them, is carried swiftly by the highest
motion, and softly in their own motion. And therefore, when great
ones in their own particular motion, move violently, and, as Tacitus
expresseth it well, liberius quam ut imperantium meminissent; it is a
sign the orbs are out of frame. For reverence is that, wherewith princes
are girt from God; who threateneth the dissolving thereof; Solvam
cingula regum.

So when any of the four pillars of government, are mainly shaken, or
weakened (which are religion, justice, counsel, and treasure), men
had need to pray for fair weather. But let us pass from this part of
predictions (concerning which, nevertheless, more light may be taken
from that which followeth); and let us speak first, of the materials of
seditions; then of the motives of them; and thirdly of the remedies.

Concerning the materials of seditions. It is a thing well to be
considered; for the surest way to prevent seditions (if the times
do bear it) is to take away the matter of them. For if there be fuel
prepared, it is hard to tell, whence the spark shall come, that shall
set it on fire. The matter of seditions is of two kinds: much poverty,
and much discontentment. It is certain, so many overthrown estates, so
many votes for troubles. Lucan noteth well the state of Rome before the
Civil War,


Hinc usura vorax, rapidumque in tempore foenus,
Hinc concussa fides, et multis utile bellum.


This same multis utile bellum, is an assured and infallible sign, of a
state disposed to seditions and troubles. And if this poverty and broken
estate in the better sort, be joined with a want and necessity in the
mean people, the danger is imminent and great. For the rebellions of the
belly are the worst. As for discontentments, they are, in the politic
body, like to humors in the natural, which are apt to gather a
preternatural heat, and to inflame. And let no prince measure the
danger of them by this, whether they be just or unjust: for that were
to imagine people, to be too reasonable; who do often spurn at their
own good: nor yet by this, whether the griefs whereupon they rise, be
in fact great or small: for they are the most dangerous discontentments,
where the fear is greater than the feeling. Dolendi modus, timendi non
item. Besides, in great oppressions, the same things that provoke the
patience, do withal mate the courage; but in fears it is not so. Neither
let any prince, or state, be secure concerning discontentments, because
they have been often, or have been long, and yet no peril hath ensued:
for as it is true, that every vapor or fume doth not turn into a storm;
so it is nevertheless true, that storms, though they blow over divers
times, yet may fall at last; and, as the Spanish proverb noteth well,
The cord breaketh at the last by the weakest pull.

The causes and motives of seditions are, innovation in religion;
taxes; alteration of laws and customs; breaking of privileges; general
oppression; advancement of unworthy persons; strangers; dearths;
disbanded soldiers; factions grown desperate; and what soever, in
offending people, joineth and knitteth them in a common cause.

For the remedies; there may be some general preservatives, whereof
we will speak: as for the just cure, it must answer to the particular
disease; and so be left to counsel, rather than rule.

The first remedy or prevention is to remove, by all means possible, that
material cause of sedition whereof we spake; which is, want and poverty
in the estate. To which purpose serveth the opening, and well-balancing
of trade; the cherishing of manufactures; the banishing of idleness; the
repressing of waste, and excess, by sumptuary laws; the improvement and
husbanding of the soil; the regulating of prices of things vendible; the
moderating of taxes and tributes; and the like. Generally, it is to be
foreseen that the population of a kingdom (especially if it be not
mown down by wars) do not exceed the stock of the kingdom, which should
maintain them. Neither is the population to be reckoned only by number;
for a smaller number, that spend more and earn less, do wear out an
estate sooner, than a greater number that live lower, and gather more.
Therefore the multiplying of nobility, and other degrees of quality, in
an over proportion to the common people, doth speedily bring a state
to necessity; and so doth likewise an overgrown clergy; for they bring
nothing to the stock; and in like manner, when more are bred scholars,
than preferments can take off.

It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuch as the increase of any
estate must be upon the foreigner (for whatsoever is somewhere gotten,
is somewhere lost), there be but three things, which one nation selleth
unto another; the commodity as nature yieldeth it; the manufacture; and
the vecture, or carriage. So that if these three wheels go, wealth
will flow as in a spring tide. And it cometh many times to pass, that
materiam superabit opus; that the work and carriage is more worth than
the material, and enricheth a state more; as is notably seen in the
Low-Countrymen, who have the best mines above ground, in the world.

Above all things, good policy is to be used, that the treasure and
moneys, in a state, be not gathered into few hands. For otherwise a
state may have a great stock, and yet starve. And money is like muck,
not good except it be spread. This is done, chiefly by suppressing,
or at least keeping a strait hand, upon the devouring trades of usury,
ingrossing great pasturages, and the like.

For removing discontentments, or at least the danger of them; there is
in every state (as we know) two portions of subjects; the noblesse
and the commonalty. When one of these is discontent, the danger is not
great; for common people are of slow motion, if they be not excited by
the greater sort; and the greater sort are of small strength, except the
multitude be apt, and ready to move of themselves. Then is the danger,
when the greater sort, do but wait for the troubling of the waters
amongst the meaner, that then they may declare themselves. The poets
feign, that the rest of the gods would have bound Jupiter; which he
hearing of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus, with his
hundred hands, to come in to his aid. An emblem, no doubt, to show how
safe it is for monarchs, to make sure of the good will of common people.
To give moderate liberty for griefs and discontentments to evaporate
(so it be without too great insolency or bravery), is a safe way. For
he that turneth the humors back, and maketh the wound bleed inwards,
endangereth malign ulcers, and pernicious imposthumations.

The part of Epimetheus mought well become Prometheus, in the case of
discontentments: for there is not a better provision against them.
Epimetheus, when griefs and evils flew abroad, at last shut the lid,
and kept hope in the bottom of the vessel. Certainly, the politic and
artificial nourishing, and entertaining of hopes, and carrying men
from hopes to hopes, is one of the best antidotes against the poison
of discontentments. And it is a certain sign of a wise government and
proceeding, when it can hold men's hearts by hopes, when it cannot by
satisfaction; and when it can handle things, in such manner, as no evil
shall appear so peremptory, but that it hath some outlet of hope; which
is the less hard to do, because both particular persons and factions,
are apt enough to flatter themselves, or at least to brave that, which
they believe not.

Also the foresight and prevention, that there be no likely or fit head,
whereunto discontented persons may resort, and under whom they may join,
is a known, but an excellent point of caution. I understand a fit head,
to be one that hath greatness and reputation; that hath confidence with
the discontented party, and upon whom they turn their eyes; and that is
thought discontented, in his own particular: which kind of persons, are
either to be won, and reconciled to the state, and that in a fast and
true manner; or to be fronted with some other, of the same party, that
may oppose them, and so divide the reputation. Generally, the dividing
and breaking, of all factions and combinations that are adverse to
the state, and setting them at distance, or at least distrust, amongst
themselves, is not one of the worst remedies. For it is a desperate
case, if those that hold with the proceeding of the state, be full
of discord and faction, and those that are against it, be entire and
united.

I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches, which have fallen from
princes, have given fire to seditions. Caesar did himself infinite hurt
in that speech, Sylla nescivit literas, non potuit dictare; for it did
utterly cut off that hope, which men had entertained, that he would at
one time or other give over his dictatorship. Galba undid himself by
that speech, legi a se militem, non emi; for it put the soldiers out of
hope of the donative. Probus likewise, by that speech, Si vixero, non
opus erit amplius Romano imperio militibus; a speech of great despair
for the soldiers. And many the like. Surely princes had need, in tender
matters and ticklish times, to beware what they say; especially in these
short speeches, which fly abroad like darts, and are thought to be shot
out of their secret intentions. For as for large discourses, they are
flat things, and not so much noted.


Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be without some great
person, one or rather more, of military valor, near unto them, for the
repressing of seditions in their beginnings. For without that, there
useth to be more trepidation in court upon the first breaking out of
troubles, than were fit. And the state runneth the danger of that which
Tacitus saith; Atque is habitus animorum fuit, ut pessimum facinus
auderent pauci, plures vellent, omnes paterentur. But let such military
persons be assured, and well reputed of, rather than factious and
popular; holding also good correspondence with the other great men in
the state; or else the remedy, is worse than the disease.




Of Atheism


I HAD rather believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud,
and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind. And
therefore, God never wrought miracle, to convince atheism, because
his ordinary works convince it. It is true, that a little philosophy
inclineth man's mind to atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's
minds about to religion. For while the mind of man looketh upon second
causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in them, and go no further; but
when it beholdeth the chain of them, confederate and linked together, it
must needs fly to Providence and Deity. Nay, even that school which is
most accused of atheism doth most demonstrate religion; that is, the
school of Leucippus and Democritus and Epicurus. 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.