No More Learning

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. For that maketh the common subject, grow
to be a peasant and base swain, driven out of heart, and in effect but
the gentleman's laborer. Even as you may see in coppice woods; if you
leave your staddles too thick, you shall never have clean underwood, but
shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the gentlemen be too many,
the commons will be base; and you will bring it to that, that not the
hundred poll, will be fit for an helmet; especially as to the infantry,
which is the nerve of an army; and so there will be great population,
and little strength. This which I speak of, hath been nowhere better
seen, than by comparing of England and France; whereof England, though
far less in territory and population, hath been (nevertheless) an
overmatch; in regard the middle people of England make good soldiers,
which the peasants of France do not. And herein the device of king Henry
the Seventh (whereof I have spoken largely in the History of his Life)
was profound and admirable; in making farms and houses of husbandry of a
standard; that is, maintained with such a proportion of land unto them,
as may breed a subject to live in convenient plenty and no servile
condition; and to keep the plough in the hands of the owners, and not
mere hirelings. And thus indeed you shall attain to Virgil's character
which he gives to ancient Italy:


Terra potens armis atque ubere glebae.

Neither is that state (which, for any thing I know, is almost peculiar
to England, and hardly to be found anywhere else, except it be perhaps
in Poland) to be passed over; I mean the state of free servants, and
attendants upon noblemen and gentlemen; which are no ways inferior unto
the yeomanry for arms. And therefore out of all questions, the splendor
and magnificence, and great retinues and hospitality, of noblemen
and gentlemen, received into custom, doth much conduce unto martial
greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, the close and reserved living of
noblemen and gentlemen, causeth a penury of military forces.

By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk of Nebuchadnezzar's
tree of monarchy, be great enough to bear the branches and the boughs;
that is, that the natural subjects of the crown or state, bear
a sufficient proportion to the stranger subjects, that they
govern. Therefore all states that are liberal of naturalization towards
strangers, are fit for empire. For to think that an handful of people
can, with the greatest courage and policy in the world, embrace too
large extent of dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will fail
suddenly. The Spartans were a nice people in point of naturalization;
whereby, while they kept their compass, they stood firm; but when they
did spread, and their boughs were becomen too great for their stem, they
became a windfall, upon the sudden. Never any state was in this point so
open to receive strangers into their body, as were the Romans. Therefore
it sorted with them accordingly; for they grew to the greatest monarchy.
Their manner was to grant naturalization (which they called jus
civitatis), and to grant it in the highest degree; that is, not only jus
commercii, jus connubii, jus haereditatis; but also jus suffragii, and
jus honorum. And this not to singular persons alone, but likewise to
whole families; yea to cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this
their custom of plantation of colonies; whereby the Roman plant was
removed into the soil of other nations. And putting both constitutions
together, you will say that it was not the Romans that spread upon the
world, but it was the world that spread upon the Romans; and that was
the sure way of greatness. I have marvelled, sometimes, at Spain,
how they clasp and contain so large dominions, with so few natural
Spaniards; but sure the whole compass of Spain, is a very great body of
a tree; far above Rome and Sparta at the first. And besides, though they
have not had that usage, to naturalize liberally, yet they have that
which is next to it; that is, to employ, almost indifferently, all
nations in their militia of ordinary soldiers; yea, and sometimes
in their highest commands. Nay, it seemeth at this instant they are
sensible, of this want of natives; as by the Pragmatical Sanction, now
published, appeareth.

It is certain that sedentary, and within-door arts, and delicate
manufactures (that require rather the finger than the arm), have, in
their nature, a contrariety to a military disposition. And generally,
all warlike people are a little idle, and love danger better than
travail. Neither must they be too much broken of it, if they shall be
preserved in vigor. Therefore it was great advantage, in the ancient
states of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the use
of slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures. But that is
abolished, in greatest part, by the Christian law. That which cometh
nearest to it, is to leave those arts chiefly to strangers (which, for
that purpose, are the more easily to be received), and to contain
the principal bulk of the vulgar natives, within those three
kinds,--tillers of the ground; free servants; and handicraftsmen of
strong and manly arts, as smiths, masons, carpenters, etc. ; not
reckoning professed soldiers.

But above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth most, that a
nation do profess arms, as their principal honor, study, and occupation.
For the things which we formerly have spoken of, are but habilitations
towards arms; and what is habilitation without intention and act?
Romulus, after his death (as they report or feign), sent a present
to the Romans, that above all, they should intend arms; and then they
should prove the greatest empire of the world. The fabric of the state
of Sparta was wholly (though not wisely) framed and composed, to that
scope and end. The Persians and Macedonians had it for a flash. The
Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others, had it for a time.
The Turks have it at this day, though in great declination. Of Christian
Europe, they that have it are, in effect, only the Spaniards. But it is
so plain, that every man profiteth in that, he most intendeth, that
it needeth not to be stood upon. It is enough to point at it; that no
nation which doth not directly profess arms, may look to have greatness
fall into their mouths. And on the other side, it is a most certain
oracle of time, that those states that continue long in that profession
(as the Romans and Turks principally have done) do wonders. And those
that have professed arms but for an age, have, notwithstanding, commonly
attained that greatness, in that age, which maintained them long after,
when their profession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay.

Incident to this point is, for a state to have those laws or customs,
which may reach forth unto them just occasions (as may be pretended)
of war. For there is that justice, imprinted in the nature of men, that
they enter not upon wars (whereof so many calamities do ensue) but upon
some, at the least specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath at
hand, for cause of war, the propagation of his law or sect; a quarrel
that he may always command. The Romans, though they esteemed the
extending the limits of their empire, to be great honor to their
generals, when it was done, yet they never rested upon that alone, to
begin a war. First, therefore, let nations that pretend to greatness
have this; that they be sensible of wrongs, either upon borderers,
merchants, or politic ministers; and that they sit not too long upon
a provocation. Secondly, let them be prest, and ready to give aids
and succors, to their confederates; as it ever was with the Romans;
insomuch, as if the confederate had leagues defensive, with divers other
states, and, upon invasion offered, did implore their aids severally,
yet the Romans would ever be the foremost, and leave it to none other to
have the honor. As for the wars which were anciently made, on the behalf
of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of estate, I do not see how they
may be well justified: as when the Romans made a war, for the liberty of
Grecia; or when the Lacedaemonians and Athenians, made wars to set up
or pull down democracies and oligarchies; or when wars were made by
foreigners, under the pretence of justice or protection, to deliver the
subjects of others, from tyranny and oppression; and the like. Let it
suffice, that no estate expect to be great, that is not awake upon any
just occasion of arming.

No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural body nor
politic; and certainly to a kingdom or estate, a just and honorable war,
is the true exercise. A civil war, indeed, is like the heat of a fever;
but a foreign war is like the heat of exercise, and serveth to keep the
body in health; for in a slothful peace, both courages will effeminate,
and manners corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness, without all
question, for greatness, it maketh to be still for the most part in
arms; and the strength of a veteran army (though it be a chargeable
business) always on foot, is that which commonly giveth the law, or at
least the reputation, amongst all neighbor states; as may well be seen
in Spain, which hath had, in one part or other, a veteran army almost
continually, now by the space of six score years.

To be master of the sea, is an abridgment of a monarchy. Cicero, writing
to Atticus of Pompey his preparation against Caesar, saith, Consilium
Pompeii plane Themistocleum est; putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum
potiri. And, without doubt, Pompey had tired out Caesar, if upon vain
confidence, he had not left that way. We see the great effects of
battles by sea. The battle of Actium, decided the empire of the world.
The battle of Lepanto, arrested the greatness of the Turk. There be many
examples, where sea-fights have been final to the war; but this is when
princes or states have set up their rest, upon the battles. But thus
much is certain, that he that commands the sea, is at great liberty, and
may take as much, and as little, of the war as he will. Whereas those
that be strongest by land, are many times nevertheless in great straits.
Surely, at this day, with us of Europe, the vantage of strength at sea
(which is one of the principal dowries of this kingdom of Great Britain)
is great; both because most of the kingdoms of Europe, are not merely
inland, but girt with the sea most part of their compass; and because
the wealth of both Indies seems in great part, but an accessory to the
command of the seas.

The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark, in respect of the
glory, and honor, which reflected upon men from the wars, in ancient
time. There be now, for martial encouragement, some degrees and orders
of chivalry; which nevertheless are conferred promiscuously, upon
soldiers and no soldiers; and some remembrance perhaps, upon the
scutcheon; and some hospitals for maimed soldiers; and such like
things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon the place of the
victory; the funeral laudatives and monuments for those that died in the
wars; the crowns and garlands personal; the style of emperor, which the
great kings of the world after borrowed; the triumphs of the generals,
upon their return; the great donatives and largesses, upon the
disbanding of the armies; were things able to inflame all men's
courages. But above all, that of the triumph, amongst the Romans, was
not pageants or gaudery, but one of the wisest and noblest institutions,
that ever was. For it contained three things: honor to the general;
riches to the treasury out of the spoils; and donatives to the army.
But that honor, perhaps were not fit for monarchies; except it be in the
person of the monarch himself, or his sons; as it came to pass in the
times of the Roman emperors, who did impropriate the actual triumphs to
themselves, and their sons, for such wars as they did achieve in person;
and left only, for wars achieved by subjects, some triumphal garments
and ensigns to the general.

To conclude: no man can by care taking (as the Scripture saith) add a
cubit to his stature, in this little model of a man's body; but in the
great frame of kingdoms and commonwealths, it is in the power of princes
or estates, to add amplitude and greatness to their kingdoms; for by
introducing such ordinances, constitutions, and customs, as we have now
touched, they may sow greatness to their posterity and succession. But
these things are commonly not observed, but left to take their chance.




Of Regiment Of Health


THERE is a wisdom in this; beyond the rules of physic: a man's own
observation, what he finds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is the
best physic to preserve health. But it is a safer conclusion to say,
This agreeth not well with me, therefore, I will not continue it; than
this, I find no offence of this, therefore I may use it. For strength of
nature in youth, passeth over many excesses, which are owing a man till
his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think not to do the same
things still; for age will not be defied. Beware of sudden change, in
any great point of diet, and, if necessity enforce it, fit the rest to
it. For it is a secret both in nature and state, that it is safer
to change many things, than one. Examine thy customs of diet, sleep,
exercise, apparel, and the like; and try, in any thing thou shalt judge
hurtful, to discontinue it, by little and little; but so, as if thou
dost find any inconvenience by the change, thou come back to it again:
for it is hard to distinguish that which is generally held good and
wholesome, from that which is good particularly, and fit for thine own
body. To be free-minded and cheerfully disposed, at hours of meat, and
of sleep, and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting.
As for the passions, and studies of the mind; avoid envy, anxious
fears; anger fretting inwards; subtle and knotty inquisitions; joys
and exhilarations in excess; sadness not communicated. Entertain hopes;
mirth rather than joy; variety of delights, rather than surfeit of them;
wonder and admiration, and therefore novelties; studies that fill the
mind with splendid and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and
contemplations of nature. If you fly physic in health altogether, it
will be too strange for your body, when you shall need it. If you make
it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect, when sickness
cometh. I commend rather some diet for certain seasons, than frequent
use of physic, except it be grown into a custom. For those diets alter
the body more, and trouble it less. Despise no new accident in your
body, but ask opinion of it. In sickness, respect health principally;
and in health, action. For those that put their bodies to endure in
health, may in most sicknesses, which are not very sharp, be cured
only with diet, and tendering. Celsus could never have spoken it as a
physician, had he not been a wise man withal, when he giveth it for one
of the great precepts of health and lasting, that a man do vary, and
interchange contraries, but with an inclination to the more benign
extreme: use fasting and full eating, but rather full eating; watching
and sleep, but rather sleep; sitting and exercise, but rather exercise;
and the like. So shall nature be cherished, and yet taught masteries.
Physicians are, some of them, so pleasing and conformable to the humor
of the patient, as they press not the true cure of the disease; and some
other are so regular, in proceeding according to art for the disease, as
they respect not sufficiently the condition of the patient. Take one of
a middle temper; or if it may not be found in one man, combine two of
either sort; and forget not to call as well, the best acquainted with
your body, as the best reputed of for his faculty.




Of Suspicion


SUSPICIONS amongst thoughts, are like bats amongst birds, they ever
fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repressed, or at least well
guarded: for they cloud the mind; they leese friends; and they check
with business, whereby business cannot go on currently and constantly.
They dispose kings to tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to
irresolution and melancholy. They are defects, not in the heart, but
in the brain; for they take place in the stoutest natures; as in the
example of Henry the Seventh of England. There was not a more suspicious
man, nor a more stout. And in such a composition they do small hurt. For
commonly they are not admitted, but with examination, whether they be
likely or no. But in fearful natures they gain ground too fast. There
is nothing makes a man suspect much, more than to know little; and
therefore men should remedy suspicion, by procuring to know more, and
not to keep their suspicions in smother. What would men have? Do they
think, those they employ and deal with, are saints? Do they not think,
they will have their own ends, and be truer to themselves, than to
them? Therefore there is no better way, to moderate suspicions, than to
account upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle them as false.
For so far a man ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, as
if that should be true, that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt.
Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers, are but buzzes; but
suspicions that are artificially nourished, and put into men's heads,
by the tales and whisperings of others, have stings. Certainly, the best
mean, to clear the way in this same wood of suspicions, is frankly to
communicate them with the party, that he suspects; for thereby he shall
be sure to know more of the truth of them, than he did before; and
withal shall make that party more circumspect, not to give further cause
of suspicion. But this would not be done to men of base natures; for
they, if they find themselves once suspected, will never be true.
The Italian says, Sospetto licentia fede; as if suspicion, did give
a passport to faith; but it ought, rather, to kindle it to discharge
itself.




Of Discourse


SOME, in their discourse, desire rather commendation of wit, in being
able to hold all arguments, than of judgment, in discerning what is
true; as if it were a praise, to know what might be said, and not, what
should be thought. Some have certain common places, and themes, wherein
they are good and want variety; which kind of poverty is for the most
part tedious, and when it is once perceived, ridiculous. The honorablest
part of talk, is to give the occasion; and again to moderate, and
pass to somewhat else; for then a man leads the dance. It is good, in
discourse and speech of conversation, to vary and intermingle speech
of the present occasion, with arguments, tales with reasons, asking of
questions, with telling of opinions, and jest with earnest: for it is a
dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade, any thing too far. As
for jest, there be certain things, which ought to be privileged from
it; namely, religion, matters of state, great persons, any man's present
business of importance, and any case that deserveth pity. Yet there
be some, that think their wits have been asleep, except they dart out
somewhat that is piquant, and to the quick. That is a vein which would
be bridled:


Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris.


And generally, men ought to find the difference, between saltness and
bitterness. Certainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as he maketh
others afraid of his wit, so he had need be afraid of others' memory.
He that questioneth much, shall learn much, and content much; but
especially, if he apply his questions to the skill of the persons whom
he asketh; for he shall give them occasion, to please themselves in
speaking, and himself shall continually gather knowledge. But let his
questions not be troublesome; for that is fit for a poser. And let him
be sure to leave other men, their turns to speak. Nay, if there be any,
that would reign and take up all the time, let him find means to take
them off, and to bring others on; as musicians use to do, with those
that dance too long galliards. If you dissemble, sometimes, your
knowledge of that you are thought to know, you shall be thought, another
time, to know that you know not. Speech of a man's self ought to be
seldom, and well chosen. I knew one, was wont to say in scorn, He must
needs be a wise man, he speaks so much of himself: and there is but one
case, wherein a man may commend himself with good grace; and that is
in commending virtue in another; especially if it be such a virtue,
whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of touch towards others, should
be sparingly used; for discourse ought to be as a field, without coming
home to any man. I knew two noblemen, of the west part of England,
whereof the one was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer in his
house; the other would ask, of those that had been at the other's table,
Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry blow given? To which the
guest would answer, Such and such a thing passed. The lord would say, I
thought, he would mar a good dinner. Discretion of speech, is more than
eloquence; and to speak agreeably to him, with whom we deal, is more
than to speak in good words, or in good order. A good continued speech,
without a good speech of interlocution, shows slowness: and a good reply
or second speech, without a good settled speech, showeth shallowness
and weakness. As we see in beasts, that those that are weakest in the
course, are yet nimblest in the turn; as it is betwixt the greyhound and
the hare. To use too many circumstances, ere one come to the matter, is
wearisome; to use none at all, is blunt.




Of Plantations


PLANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical works. When the
world was young, it begat more children; but now it is old, it begets
fewer: for I may justly account new plantations, to be the children
of former kingdoms. I like a plantation in a pure soil; that is, where
people are not displanted, to the end, to plant in others. For else it
is rather an extirpation, than a plantation. Planting of countries, is
like planting of woods; for you must make account to leese almost twenty
years' profit, and expect your recompense in the end. For the principal
thing, that hath been the destruction of most plantations, hath been the
base and hasty drawing of profit, in the first years. It is true, speedy
profit is not to be neglected, as far as may stand with the good of the
plantation, but no further. It is a shameful and unblessed thing, to
take the scum of people, and wicked condemned men, to be the people with
whom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation; for
they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be lazy, and
do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and then certify
over to their country, to the discredit of the plantation. The people
wherewith you plant ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, laborers, smiths,
carpenters, joiners, fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries,
surgeons, cooks, and bakers. In a country of plantation, first look
about, what kind of victual the country yields of itself to hand; as
chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples, olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild
honey, and the like; and make use of them. Then consider what victual or
esculent things there are, which grow speedily, and within the year; as
parsnips, carrots, turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of Hierusalem,
maize, and the like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they ask too much
labor; but with pease and beans you may begin, both because they ask
less labor, and because they serve for meat, as well as for bread. And
of rice, likewise cometh a great increase, and it is a kind of meat.
Above all, there ought to be brought store of biscuit, oat-meal, flour,
meal, and the like, in the beginning, till bread may be had. For beasts,
or birds, take chiefly such as are least subject to diseases, and
multiply fastest; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, geese,
house-doves, and the like. The victual in plantations, ought to be
expended almost as in a besieged town; that is, with certain allowance.
And let the main part of the ground, employed to gardens or corn, be to
a common stock; and to be laid in, and stored up, and then delivered out
in proportion; besides some spots of ground, that any particular person
will manure for his own private. Consider likewise what commodities, the
soil where the plantation is, doth naturally yield, that they may some
way help to defray the charge of the plantation (so it be not, as was
said, to the untimely prejudice of the main business), as it hath fared
with tobacco in Virginia. Wood commonly aboundeth but too much; and
therefore timber is fit to be one. If there be iron ore, and streams
whereupon to set the mills, iron is a brave commodity where wood
aboundeth. Making of bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, would
be put in experience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is a likely
commodity. Pitch and tar, where store of firs and pines are, will not
fail. So drugs and sweet woods, where they are, cannot but yield great
profit. Soap-ashes likewise, and other things that may be thought
of. But moil not too much under ground; for the hope of mines is very
uncertain, and useth to make the planters lazy, in other things. For
government; let it be in the hands of one, assisted with some counsel;
and let them have commission to exercise martial laws, with some
limitation. And above all, let men make that profit, of being in the
wilderness, as they have God always, and his service, before their
eyes. Let not the government of the plantation, depend upon too many
counsellors, and undertakers, in the country that planteth, but upon a
temperate number; and let those be rather noblemen and gentlemen, than
merchants; for they look ever to the present gain. Let there be freedom
from custom, till the plantation be of strength; and not only freedom
from custom, but freedom to carry their commodities, where they may make
their best of them, except there be some special cause of caution. Cram
not in people, by sending too fast company after company; but rather
harken how they waste, and send supplies proportionably; but so, as
the number may live well in the plantation, and not by surcharge be
in penury. It hath been a great endangering to the health of some
plantations, that they have built along the sea and rivers, in marish
and unwholesome grounds. Therefore, though you begin there, to avoid
carriage and like discommodities, yet build still rather upwards from
the streams, than along. It concerneth likewise the health of the
plantation, that they have good store of salt with them, that they may
use it in their victuals, when it shall be necessary. If you plant where
savages are, do not only entertain them, with trifles and gingles, but
use them justly and graciously, with sufficient guard nevertheless; and
do not win their favor, by helping them to invade their enemies, but for
their defence it is not amiss; and send oft of them, over to the country
that plants, that they may see a better condition than their own, and
commend it when they return. When the plantation grows to strength, then
it is time to plant with women, as well as with men; that the plantation
may spread into generations, and not be ever pieced from without. It is
the sinfullest thing in the world, to forsake or destitute a plantation
once in forwardness; for besides the dishonor, it is the guiltiness of
blood of many commiserable persons.




Of Riches


I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage of virtue. The Roman word
is better, impedimenta. For as the baggage is to an army, so is riches
to virtue. It cannot be spared, nor left behind, but it hindereth the
march; yea, and the care of it, sometimes loseth or disturbeth the
victory.