No More Learning

As for artificial decoration, it is
well worthy of the deficiences which it hath; being neither fine enough
to deceive, nor handsome to use, nor wholesome to please.

(12) For athletic, I take the subject of it largely, that is to say, for
any point of ability whereunto the body of man may be brought, whether it
be of activity, or of patience; whereof activity hath two parts, strength
and swiftness; and patience likewise hath two parts, hardness against
wants and extremities, and endurance of pain or torment; whereof we see
the practices in tumblers, in savages, and in those that suffer
punishment. Nay, if there be any other faculty which falls not within
any of the former divisions, as in those that dive, that obtain a strange
power of containing respiration, and the like, I refer it to this part.
Of these things the practices are known, but the philosophy that
concerneth them is not much inquired; the rather, I think, because they
are supposed to be obtained, either by an aptness of nature, which cannot
be taught, or only by continual custom, which is soon prescribed which
though it be not true, yet I forbear to note any deficiences; for the
Olympian games are down long since, and the mediocrity of these things is
for use; as for the excellency of them it serveth for the most part but
for mercenary ostentation.

(13) For arts of pleasure sensual, the chief deficience in them is of
laws to repress them. For as it hath been well observed, that the arts
which flourish in times while virtue is in growth, are military; and
while virtue is in state, are liberal; and while virtue is in
declination, are voluptuary: so I doubt that this age of the world is
somewhat upon the descent of the wheel. With arts voluptuary I couple
practices joculary; for the deceiving of the senses is one of the
pleasures of the senses. As for games of recreation, I hold them to
belong to civil life and education. And thus much of that particular
human philosophy which concerns the body, which is but the tabernacle of
the mind.

XI. (1) For human knowledge which concerns the mind, it hath two parts;
the one that inquireth of the substance or nature of the soul or mind,
the other that inquireth of the faculties or functions thereof. Unto
the first of these, the considerations of the original of the soul,
whether it be native or adventive, and how far it is exempted from laws
of matter, and of the immortality thereof, and many other points, do
appertain: which have been not more laboriously inquired than variously
reported; so as the travail therein taken seemeth to have been rather in
a maze than in a way. But although I am of opinion that this knowledge
may be more really and soundly inquired, even in nature, than it hath
been, yet I hold that in the end it must be hounded by religion, or else
it will be subject to deceit and delusion. For as the substance of the
soul in the creation was not extracted out of the mass of heaven and
earth by the benediction of a _producat_, but was immediately inspired
from God, so it is not possible that it should be (otherwise than by
accident) subject to the laws of heaven and earth, which are the subject
of philosophy; and therefore the true knowledge of the nature and state
of the soul must come by the same inspiration that gave the substance.
Unto this part of knowledge touching the soul there be two appendices;
which, as they have been handled, have rather vapoured forth fables than
kindled truth: divination and fascination.

(2) Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided into artificial and
natural: whereof artificial is, when the mind maketh a prediction by
argument, concluding upon signs and tokens; natural is, when the mind
hath a presention by an internal power, without the inducement of a sign.
Artificial is of two sorts: either when the argument is coupled with a
derivation of causes, which is rational; or when it is only grounded upon
a coincidence of the effect, which is experimental: whereof the latter
for the most part is superstitious, such as were the heathen observations
upon the inspection of sacrifices, the flights of birds, the swarming of
bees; and such as was the Chaldean astrology, and the like. For
artificial divination, the several kinds thereof are distributed amongst
particular knowledges. The astronomer hath his predictions, as of
conjunctions, aspects, eclipses, and the like. The physician hath his
predictions, of death, of recovery, of the accidents and issues of
diseases. The politique hath his predictions; _O urbem venalem_, _et
cito perituram_, _si emptorem invenerit_! which stayed not long to be
performed, in Sylla first, and after in Cæsar: so as these predictions
are now impertinent, and to be referred over. But the divination which
springeth from the internal nature of the soul is that which we now speak
of; which hath been made to be of two sorts, primitive and by influxion.
Primitive is grounded upon the supposition that the mind, when it is
withdrawn and collected into itself, and not diffused into the organs of
the body, hath some extent and latitude of prenotion; which therefore
appeareth most in sleep, in ecstasies, and near death, and more rarely in
waking apprehensions; and is induced and furthered by those abstinences
and observances which make the mind most to consist in itself. By
influxion, is grounded upon the conceit that the mind, as a mirror or
glass, should take illumination from the foreknowledge of God and
spirits: unto which the same regiment doth likewise conduce. For the
retiring of the mind within itself is the state which is most susceptible
of divine influxions; save that it is accompanied in this case with a
fervency and elevation (which the ancients noted by fury), and not with a
repose and quiet, as it is in the other.

(3) Fascination is the power and act of imagination intensive upon other
bodies than the body of the imaginant, for of that we spake in the proper
place. Wherein the school of Paracelsus, and the disciples of pretended
natural magic, have been so intemperate, as they have exalted the power
of the imagination to be much one with the power of miracle-working
faith. Others, that draw nearer to probability, calling to their view
the secret passages of things, and specially of the contagion that
passeth from body to body, do conceive it should likewise be agreeable to
nature that there should be some transmissions and operations from spirit
to spirit without the mediation of the senses; whence the conceits have
grown (now almost made civil) of the mastering spirit, and the force of
confidence, and the like. Incident unto this is the inquiry how to raise
and fortify the imagination; for if the imagination fortified have power,
then it is material to know how to fortify and exalt it. And herein
comes in crookedly and dangerously a palliation of a great part of
ceremonial magic. For it may be pretended that ceremonies, characters,
and charms do work, not by any tacit or sacramental contract with evil
spirits, but serve only to strengthen the imagination of him that useth
it; as images are said by the Roman Church to fix the cogitations and
raise the devotions of them that pray before them. But for mine own
judgment, if it be admitted that imagination hath power, and that
ceremonies fortify imagination, and that they be used sincerely and
intentionally for that purpose; yet I should hold them unlawful, as
opposing to that first edict which God gave unto man, _In sudore vultus
comedes panem tuum_. For they propound those noble effects, which God
hath set forth unto man to be bought at the price of labour, to be
attained by a few easy and slothful observances. Deficiences in these
knowledges I will report none, other than the general deficience, that it
is not known how much of them is verity, and how much vanity.

XII. (1) The knowledge which respecteth the faculties of the mind of man
is of two kinds—the one respecting his understanding and reason, and the
other his will, appetite, and affection; whereof the former produceth
position or decree, the latter action or execution. It is true that the
imagination is an agent or _nuncius_ in both provinces, both the judicial
and the ministerial. For sense sendeth over to imagination before reason
have judged, and reason sendeth over to imagination before the decree can
be acted. For imagination ever precedeth voluntary motion. Saving that
this Janus of imagination hath differing faces: for the face towards
reason hath the print of truth, but the face towards action hath the
print of good; which nevertheless are faces,

“Quales decet esse sororum. ”

Neither is the imagination simply and only a messenger; but is invested
with, or at least wise usurpeth no small authority in itself, besides the
duty of the message. For it was well said by Aristotle, “That the mind
hath over the body that commandment, which the lord hath over a bondman;
but that reason hath over the imagination that commandment which a
magistrate hath over a free citizen,” who may come also to rule in his
turn. For we see that, in matters of faith and religion, we raise our
imagination above our reason, which is the cause why religion sought ever
access to the mind by similitudes, types, parables, visions, dreams. And
again, in all persuasions that are wrought by eloquence, and other
impressions of like nature, which do paint and disguise the true
appearance of things, the chief recommendation unto reason is from the
imagination. Nevertheless, because I find not any science that doth
properly or fitly pertain to the imagination, I see no cause to alter the
former division. For as for poesy, it is rather a pleasure or play of
imagination than a work or duty thereof. And if it be a work, we speak
not now of such parts of learning as the imagination produceth, but of
such sciences as handle and consider of the imagination. No more than we
shall speak now of such knowledges as reason produceth (for that
extendeth to all philosophy), but of such knowledges as do handle and
inquire of the faculty of reason: so as poesy had his true place. As for
the power of the imagination in nature, and the manner of fortifying the
same, we have mentioned it in the doctrine _De Anima_, whereunto most
fitly it belongeth. And lastly, for imaginative or insinuative reason,
which is the subject of rhetoric, we think it best to refer it to the
arts of reason. So therefore we content ourselves with the former
division, that human philosophy, which respecteth the faculties of the
mind of man, hath two parts, rational and moral.

(2) The part of human philosophy which is rational is of all knowledges,
to the most wits, the least delightful, and seemeth but a net of subtlety
and spinosity. For as it was truly said, that knowledge is _pabulum
animi_; so in the nature of men’s appetite to this food most men are of
the taste and stomach of the Israelites in the desert, that would fain
have returned _ad ollas carnium_, and were weary of manna; which, though
it were celestial, yet seemed less nutritive and comfortable. So
generally men taste well knowledges that are drenched in flesh and blood,
civil history, morality, policy, about the which men’s affections,
praises, fortunes do turn and are conversant. But this same _lumen
siccum_ doth parch and offend most men’s watery and soft natures. But to
speak truly of things as they are in worth, rational knowledges are the
keys of all other arts, for as Aristotle saith aptly and elegantly, “That
the hand is the instrument of instruments, and the mind is the form of
forms;” so these be truly said to be the art of arts. Neither do they
only direct, but likewise confirm and strengthen; even as the habit of
shooting doth not only enable to shoot a nearer shoot, but also to draw a
stronger bow.

(3) The arts intellectual are four in number, divided according to the
ends whereunto they are referred—for man’s labour is to invent that which
is sought or propounded; or to judge that which is invented; or to retain
that which is judged; or to deliver over that which is retained. So as
the arts must be four—art of inquiry or invention; art of examination or
judgment; art of custody or memory; and art of elocution or tradition.

XIII. (1) Invention is of two kinds much differing—the one of arts and
sciences, and the other of speech and arguments. The former of these I
do report deficient; which seemeth to me to be such a deficience as if,
in the making of an inventory touching the state of a defunct, it should
be set down that there is no ready money. For as money will fetch all
other commodities, so this knowledge is that which should purchase all
the rest. And like as the West Indies had never been discovered if the
use of the mariner’s needle had not been first discovered, though the one
be vast regions, and the other a small motion; so it cannot be found
strange if sciences be no further discovered, if the art itself of
invention and discovery hath been passed over.

(2) That this part of knowledge is wanting, to my judgment standeth
plainly confessed; for first, logic doth not pretend to invent sciences,
or the axioms of sciences, but passeth it over with a _cuique in sua arte
credendum_. And Celsus acknowledgeth it gravely, speaking of the
empirical and dogmatical sects of physicians, “That medicines and cures
were first found out, and then after the reasons and causes were
discoursed; and not the causes first found out, and by light from them
the medicines and cures discovered. ” And Plato in his “Theætetus” noteth
well, “That particulars are infinite, and the higher generalities give no
sufficient direction; and that the pith of all sciences, which maketh the
artsman differ from the inexpert, is in the middle propositions, which in
every particular knowledge are taken from tradition and experience. ” And
therefore we see, that they which discourse of the inventions and
originals of things refer them rather to chance than to art, and rather
to beasts, birds, fishes, serpents, than to men.

“Dictamnum genetrix Cretæa carpit ab Ida,
Puberibus caulem foliis et flore camantem
Purpureo; non illa feris incognita capris
Gramina, cum tergo volucres hæsere sagittæ. ”

So that it was no marvel (the manner of antiquity being to consecrate
inventors) that the Egyptians had so few human idols in their temples,
but almost all brute:

“Omnigenumque Deum monstra, et latrator Anubis,
Contra Neptunum, et Venerem, contraque Minervam, &c. ”

And if you like better the tradition of the Grecians, and ascribe the
first inventions to men, yet you will rather believe that Prometheus
first stroke the flints, and marvelled at the spark, than that when he
first stroke the flints he expected the spark; and therefore we see the
West Indian Prometheus had no intelligence with the European, because of
the rareness with them of flint, that gave the first occasion. So as it
should seem, that hitherto men are rather beholden to a wild goat for
surgery, or to a nightingale for music, or to the ibis for some part of
physic, or to the pot-lid that flew open for artillery, or generally to
chance or anything else than to logic for the invention of arts and
sciences. Neither is the form of invention which Virgil describeth much
other:

“Ut varias usus meditande extunderet artes
Paulatim. ”

For if you observe the words well, it is no other method than that which
brute beasts are capable of, and do put in ure; which is a perpetual
intending or practising some one thing, urged and imposed by an absolute
necessity of conservation of being. For so Cicero saith very truly,
_Usus uni rei deditus et naturam et artem sæpe vincit_. And therefore if
it be said of men,

“Labor omnia vincit
Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas,”

it is likewise said of beasts, _Quis psittaco docuit suum χαιρε_? Who
taught the raven in a drought to throw pebbles into a hollow tree, where
she spied water, that the water might rise so as she might come to it?
Who taught the bee to sail through such a vast sea or air, and to find
the way from a field in a flower a great way off to her hive? Who taught
the ant to bite every grain of corn that she burieth in her hill, lest it
should take root and grow? Add then the word _extundere_, which
importeth the extreme difficulty, and the word _paulatim_, which
importeth the extreme slowness, and we are where we were, even amongst
the Egyptians’ gods; there being little left to the faculty of reason,
and nothing to the duty or art, for matter of invention.

(3) Secondly, the induction which the logicians speak of, and which
seemeth familiar with Plato, whereby the principles of sciences may be
pretended to be invented, and so the middle propositions by derivation
from the principles; their form of induction, I say, is utterly vicious
and incompetent; wherein their error is the fouler, because it is the
duty of art to perfect and exalt nature; but they contrariwise have
wronged, abused, and traduced nature. For he that shall attentively
observe how the mind doth gather this excellent dew of knowledge, like
unto that which the poet speaketh of, _Aërei mellis cælestia dona_,
distilling and contriving it out of particulars natural and artificial,
as the flowers of the field and garden, shall find that the mind of
herself by nature doth manage and act an induction much better than they
describe it. For to conclude upon an enumeration of particulars, without
instance contradictory, is no conclusion, but a conjecture; for who can
assure (in many subjects) upon those particulars which appear of a side,
that there are not other on the contrary side which appear not? As if
Samuel should have rested upon those sons of Jesse which were brought
before him, and failed of David which was in the field. And this form
(to say truth), is so gross, as it had not been possible for wits so
subtle as have managed these things to have offered it to the world, but
that they hasted to their theories and dogmaticals, and were imperious
and scornful toward particulars; which their manner was to use but as
_lictores_ and _viatores_, for sergeants and whifflers, _ad summovendam
turbam_, to make way and make room for their opinions, rather than in
their true use and service. Certainly it is a thing may touch a man with
a religious wonder, to see how the footsteps of seducement are the very
same in divine and human truth; for, as in divine truth man cannot endure
to become as a child, so in human, they reputed the attending the
inductions (whereof we speak), as if it were a second infancy or
childhood.

(4) Thirdly, allow some principles or axioms were rightly induced, yet,
nevertheless, certain it is that middle propositions cannot be deduced
from them in subject of nature by syllogism—that is, by touch and
reduction of them to principles in a middle term. It is true that in
sciences popular, as moralities, laws, and the like, yea, and divinity
(because it pleaseth God to apply Himself to the capacity of the
simplest), that form may have use; and in natural philosophy likewise, by
way of argument or satisfactory reason, _Quæ assensum parit operis effæta
est_; but the subtlety of nature and operations will not be enchained in
those bonds. For arguments consist of propositions, and propositions of
words, and words are but the current tokens or marks of popular notions
of things; which notions, if they be grossly and variably collected out
of particulars, it is not the laborious examination either of
consequences of arguments, or of the truth of propositions, that can ever
correct that error, being (as the physicians speak) in the first
digestion. And, therefore, it was not without cause, that so many
excellent philosophers became sceptics and academics, and denied any
certainty of knowledge or comprehension; and held opinion that the
knowledge of man extended only to appearances and probabilities. It is
true that in Socrates it was supposed to be but a form of irony,
_Scientiam dissimulando simulavit_; for he used to disable his knowledge,
to the end to enhance his knowledge; like the humour of Tiberius in his
beginnings, that would reign, but would not acknowledge so much. And in
the later academy, which Cicero embraced, this opinion also of
_acatalepsia_ (I doubt) was not held sincerely; for that all those which
excelled in copy of speech seem to have chosen that sect, as that which
was fittest to give glory to their eloquence and variable discourses;
being rather like progresses of pleasure than journeys to an end. But
assuredly many scattered in both academies did hold it in subtlety and
integrity. But here was their chief error: they charged the deceit upon
the senses; which in my judgment (notwithstanding all their cavillations)
are very sufficient to certify and report truth, though not always
immediately, yet by comparison, by help of instrument, and by producing
and urging such things as are too subtle for the sense to some effect
comprehensible by the sense, and other like assistance. But they ought
to have charged the deceit upon the weakness of the intellectual powers,
and upon the manner of collecting and concluding upon the reports of the
senses. This I speak, not to disable the mind of man, but to stir it up
to seek help; for no man, be he never so cunning or practised, can make a
straight line or perfect circle by steadiness of hand, which may be
easily done by help of a ruler or compass.

(5) This part of invention, concerning the invention of sciences, I
purpose (if God give me leave) hereafter to propound, having digested it
into two parts: whereof the one I term _experientia literata_, and the
other _interpretatio naturæ_; the former being but a degree and rudiment
of the latter. But I will not dwell too long, nor speak too great upon a
promise.

(6) The invention of speech or argument is not properly an invention; for
to invent is to discover that we know not, and not to recover or resummon
that which we already know; and the use of this invention is no other
but, out of the knowledge whereof our mind is already possessed to draw
forth or call before us that which may be pertinent to the purpose which
we take into our consideration. So as to speak truly, it is no
invention, but a remembrance or suggestion, with an application; which is
the cause why the schools do place it after judgment, as subsequent and
not precedent. Nevertheless, because we do account it a chase as well of
deer in an enclosed park as in a forest at large, and that it hath
already obtained the name, let it be called invention; so as it be
perceived and discerned, that the scope and end of this invention is
readiness and present use of our knowledge, and not addition or
amplification thereof.

(7) To procure this ready use of knowledge there are two courses,
preparation and suggestion. The former of these seemeth scarcely a part
of knowledge, consisting rather of diligence than of any artificial
erudition. And herein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully, doth deride the
sophists near his time, saying, “They did as if one that professed the
art of shoemaking should not teach how to make up a shoe, but only
exhibit in a readiness a number of shoes of all fashions and sizes. ” But
yet a man might reply, that if a shoemaker should have no shoes in his
shop, but only work as he is bespoken, he should be weakly customed. But
our Saviour, speaking of divine knowledge, saith, “That the kingdom of
heaven is like a good householder, that bringeth forth both new and old
store;” and we see the ancient writers of rhetoric do give it in precept,
that pleaders should have the places, whereof they have most continual
use, ready handled in all the variety that may be; as that, to speak for
the literal interpretation of the law against equity, and contrary; and
to speak for presumptions and inferences against testimony, and contrary.
And Cicero himself, being broken unto it by great experience, delivereth
it plainly, that whatsoever a man shall have occasion to speak of (if he
will take the pains), he may have it in effect premeditate and handled
_in thesi_. So that when he cometh to a particular he shall have nothing
to do, but to put to names, and times, and places, and such other
circumstances of individuals. We see likewise the exact diligence of
Demosthenes; who, in regard of the great force that the entrance and
access into causes hath to make a good impression, had ready framed a
number of prefaces for orations and speeches. All which authorities and
precedents may overweigh Aristotle’s opinion, that would have us change a
rich wardrobe for a pair of shears.

(8) But the nature of the collection of this provision or preparatory
store, though it be common both to logic and rhetoric, yet having made an
entry of it here, where it came first to be spoken of, I think fit to
refer over the further handling of it to rhetoric.

(9) The other part of invention, which I term suggestion, doth assign and
direct us to certain marks, or places, which may excite our mind to
return and produce such knowledge as it hath formerly collected, to the
end we may make use thereof. Neither is this use (truly taken) only to
furnish argument to dispute, probably with others, but likewise to
minister unto our judgment to conclude aright within ourselves. Neither
may these places serve only to apprompt our invention, but also to direct
our inquiry. For a faculty of wise interrogating is half a knowledge.
For as Plato saith, “Whosoever seeketh, knoweth that which he seeketh for
in a general notion; else how shall he know it when he hath found it? ”
And, therefore, the larger your anticipation is, the more direct and
compendious is your search. But the same places which will help us what
to produce of that which we know already, will also help us, if a man of
experience were before us, what questions to ask; or, if we have books
and authors to instruct us, what points to search and revolve; so as I
cannot report that this part of invention, which is that which the
schools call topics, is deficient.

(10) Nevertheless, topics are of two sorts, general and special. The
general we have spoken to; but the particular hath been touched by some,
but rejected generally as inartificial and variable. But leaving the
humour which hath reigned too much in the schools (which is, to be vainly
subtle in a few things which are within their command, and to reject the
rest), I do receive particular topics; that is, places or directions of
invention and inquiry in every particular knowledge, as things of great
use, being mixtures of logic with the matter of sciences. For in these
it holdeth _ars inveniendi adolescit cum inventis_; for as in going of a
way, we do not only gain that part of the way which is passed, but we
gain the better sight of that part of the way which remaineth, so every
degree of proceeding in a science giveth a light to that which followeth;
which light, if we strengthen by drawing it forth into questions or
places of inquiry, we do greatly advance our pursuit.

XIV. (1) Now we pass unto the arts of judgment, which handle the natures
of proofs and demonstrations, which as to induction hath a coincidence
with invention; for all inductions, whether in good or vicious form, the
same action of the mind which inventeth, judgeth—all one as in the sense.
But otherwise it is in proof by syllogism, for the proof being not
immediate, but by mean, the invention of the mean is one thing, and the
judgment of the consequence is another; the one exciting only, the other
examining. Therefore, for the real and exact form of judgment, we refer
ourselves to that which we have spoken of interpretation of Nature.

(2) For the other judgment by syllogism, as it is a thing most agreeable
to the mind of man, so it hath been vehemently end excellently laboured.
For the nature of man doth extremely covet to have somewhat in his
understanding fixed and unmovable, and as a rest and support of the mind.
And, therefore, as Aristotle endeavoureth to prove, that in all motion
there is some point quiescent; and as he elegantly expoundeth the ancient
fable of Atlas (that stood fixed, and bare up the heaven from falling) to
be meant of the poles or axle-tree of heaven, whereupon the conversion is
accomplished, so assuredly men have a desire to have an Atlas or
axle-tree within to keep them from fluctuation, which is like to a
perpetual peril of falling. Therefore men did hasten to set down some
principles about which the variety of their disputatious might turn.

(3) So, then, this art of judgment is but the reduction of propositions
to principles in a middle term. The principles to be agreed by all and
exempted from argument; the middle term to be elected at the liberty of
every man’s invention; the reduction to be of two kinds, direct and
inverted: the one when the proposition is reduced to the principle, which
they term a probation ostensive; the other, when the contradictory of the
proposition is reduced to the contradictory of the principle, which is
that which they call _per incommodum_, or pressing an absurdity; the
number of middle terms to be as the proposition standeth degrees more or
less removed from the principle.

(4) But this art hath two several methods of doctrine, the one by way of
direction, the other by way of caution: the former frameth and setteth
down a true form of consequence, by the variations and deflections from
which errors and inconsequences may be exactly judged. Toward the
composition and structure of which form it is incident to handle the
parts thereof, which are propositions, and the parts of propositions,
which are simple words. And this is that part of logic which is
comprehended in the Analytics.

(5) The second method of doctrine was introduced for expedite use and
assurance sake, discovering the more subtle forms of sophisms and
illaqueations with their redargutions, which is that which is termed
_elenches_. For although in the more gross sorts of fallacies it
happeneth (as Seneca maketh the comparison well) as in juggling feats,
which, though we know not how they are done, yet we know well it is not
as it seemeth to be; yet the more subtle sort of them doth not only put a
man besides his answer, but doth many times abuse his judgment.

(6) This part concerning _elenches_ is excellently handled by Aristotle
in precept, but more excellently by Plato in example; not only in the
persons of the sophists, but even in Socrates himself, who, professing to
affirm nothing, but to infirm that which was affirmed by another, hath
exactly expressed all the forms of objection, fallace, and redargution.
And although we have said that the use of this doctrine is for
redargution, yet it is manifest the degenerate and corrupt use is for
caption and contradiction, which passeth for a great faculty, and no
doubt is of very great advantage, though the difference be good which was
made between orators and sophisters, that the one is as the greyhound,
which hath his advantage in the race, and the other as the hare, which
hath her advantage in the turn, so as it is the advantage of the weaker
creature.

(7) But yet further, this doctrine of elenches hath a more ample latitude
and extent than is perceived; namely, unto divers parts of knowledge,
whereof some are laboured and other omitted. For first, I conceive
(though it may seem at first somewhat strange) that that part which is
variably referred, sometimes to logic, sometimes to metaphysic, touching
the common adjuncts of essences, is but an _elenche_; for the great
sophism of all sophisms being equivocation or ambiguity of words and
phrase, specially of such words as are most general and intervene in
every inquiry, it seemeth to me that the true and fruitful use (leaving
vain subtleties and speculations) of the inquiry of majority, minority,
priority, posteriority, identity, diversity, possibility, act, totality,
parts, existence, privation, and the like, are but wise cautions against
ambiguities of speech. So, again, the distribution of things into
certain tribes, which we call categories or predicaments, are but
cautions against the confusion of definitions and divisions.

(8) Secondly, there is a seducement that worketh by the strength of the
impression, and not by the subtlety of the illaqueation—not so much
perplexing the reason, as overruling it by power of the imagination. But
this part I think more proper to handle when I shall speak of rhetoric.

(9) But lastly, there is yet a much more important and profound kind of
fallacies in the mind of man, which I find not observed or inquired at
all, and think good to place here, as that which of all others
appertaineth most to rectify judgment, the force whereof is such as it
doth not dazzle or snare the understanding in some particulars, but doth
more generally and inwardly infect and corrupt the state thereof. For
the mind of man is far from the nature of a clear and equal glass,
wherein the beams of things should reflect according to their true
incidence; nay, it is rather like an enchanted glass, full of
superstition and imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced. For this
purpose, let us consider the false appearances that are imposed upon us
by the general nature of the mind, beholding them in an example or two;
as first, in that instance which is the root of all superstition, namely,
that to the nature of the mind of all men it is consonant for the
affirmative or active to affect more than the negative or privative. So
that a few times hitting or presence countervails ofttimes failing or
absence, as was well answered by Diagoras to him that showed him in
Neptune’s temple the great number of pictures of such as had escaped
shipwreck, and had paid their vows to Neptune, saying, “Advise now, you
that think it folly to invocate Neptune in tempest. ” “Yea, but,” saith
Diagoras, “where are they painted that are drowned? ” Let us behold it in
another instance, namely, that the spirit of man, being of an equal and
uniform substance, doth usually suppose and feign in nature a greater
equality and uniformity than is in truth. Hence it cometh that the
mathematicians cannot satisfy themselves except they reduce the motions
of the celestial bodies to perfect circles, rejecting spiral lines, and
labouring to be discharged of eccentrics. Hence it cometh that whereas
there are many things in Nature as it were _monodica_, _sui juris_, yet
the cogitations of man do feign unto them relatives, parallels, and
conjugates, whereas no such thing is; as they have feigned an element of
fire to keep square with earth, water, and air, and the like. Nay, it is
not credible, till it be opened, what a number of fictions and fantasies
the similitude of human actions and arts, together with the making of man
_communis mensura_, have brought into natural philosophy; not much better
than the heresy of the Anthropomorphites, bred in the cells of gross and
solitary monks, and the opinion of Epicurus, answerable to the same in
heathenism, who supposed the gods to be of human shape. And, therefore,
Velleius the Epicurean needed not to have asked why God should have
adorned the heavens with stars, as if He had been an _ædilis_, one that
should have set forth some magnificent shows or plays. For if that great
Work-master had been of a human disposition, He would have cast the stars
into some pleasant and beautiful works and orders like the frets in the
roofs of houses; whereas one can scarce find a posture in square, or
triangle, or straight line, amongst such an infinite number, so differing
a harmony there is between the spirit of man and the spirit of Nature.

(10) Let us consider again the false appearances imposed upon us by every
man’s own individual nature and custom in that feigned supposition that
Plato maketh of the cave; for certainly if a child were continued in a
grot or cave under the earth until maturity of age, and came suddenly
abroad, he would have strange and absurd imaginations. So, in like
manner, although our persons live in the view of heaven, yet our spirits
are included in the caves of our own complexions and customs, which
minister unto us infinite errors and vain opinions if they be not
recalled to examination. But hereof we have given many examples in one
of the errors, or peccant humours, which we ran briefly over in our first
book.

(11) And lastly, let us consider the false appearances that are imposed
upon us by words, which are framed and applied according to the conceit
and capacities of the vulgar sort; and although we think we govern our
words, and prescribe it well _loquendum ut vulgus sentiendum ut
sapientes_, yet certain it is that words, as a Tartar’s bow, do shoot
back upon the understanding of the wisest, and mightily entangle and
pervert the judgment. So as it is almost necessary in all controversies
and disputations to imitate the wisdom of the mathematicians, in setting
down in the very beginning the definitions of our words and terms, that
others may know how we accept and understand them, and whether they
concur with us or no. For it cometh to pass, for want of this, that we
are sure to end there where we ought to have begun, which is, in
questions and differences about words. To conclude, therefore, it must
be confessed that it is not possible to divorce ourselves from these
fallacies and false appearances because they are inseparable from our
nature and condition of life; so yet, nevertheless, the caution of them
(for all elenches, as was said, are but cautions) doth extremely import
the true conduct of human judgment. The particular elenches or cautions
against these three false appearances I find altogether deficient.

(12) There remaineth one part of judgment of great excellency which to
mine understanding is so slightly touched, as I may report that also
deficient; which is the application of the differing kinds of proofs to
the differing kinds of subjects. For there being but four kinds of
demonstrations, that is, by the immediate consent of the mind or sense,
by induction, by syllogism, and by congruity, which is that which
Aristotle calleth demonstration in orb or circle, and not _a notioribus_,
every of these hath certain subjects in the matter of sciences, in which
respectively they have chiefest use; and certain others, from which
respectively they ought to be excluded; and the rigour and curiosity in
requiring the more severe proofs in some things, and chiefly the facility
in contenting ourselves with the more remiss proofs in others, hath been
amongst the greatest causes of detriment and hindrance to knowledge. The
distributions and assignations of demonstrations according to the analogy
of sciences I note as deficient.

XV. (1) The custody or retaining of knowledge is either in writing or
memory; whereof writing hath two parts, the nature of the character and
the order of the entry. For the art of characters, or other visible
notes of words or things, it hath nearest conjugation with grammar, and,
therefore, I refer it to the due place; for the disposition and
collocation of that knowledge which we preserve in writing, it consisteth
in a good digest of common-places, wherein I am not ignorant of the
prejudice imputed to the use of common-place books, as causing a
retardation of reading, and some sloth or relaxation of memory. But
because it is but a counterfeit thing in knowledges to be forward and
pregnant, except a man be deep and full, I hold the entry of
common-places to be a matter of great use and essence in studying, as
that which assureth copy of invention, and contracteth judgment to a
strength. But this is true, that of the methods of common-places that I
have seen, there is none of any sufficient worth, all of them carrying
merely the face of a school and not of a world; and referring to vulgar
matters and pedantical divisions, without all life or respect to action.

(2) For the other principal part of the custody of knowledge, which is
memory, I find that faculty in my judgment weakly inquired of. An art
there is extant of it; but it seemeth to me that there are better
precepts than that art, and better practices of that art than those
received. It is certain the art (as it is) may be raised to points of
ostentation prodigious; but in use (as is now managed) it is barren, not
burdensome, nor dangerous to natural memory, as is imagined, but barren,
that is, not dexterous to be applied to the serious use of business and
occasions. And, therefore, I make no more estimation of repeating a
great number of names or words upon once hearing, or the pouring forth of
a number of verses or rhymes _extempore_, or the making of a satirical
simile of everything, or the turning of everything to a jest, or the
falsifying or contradicting of everything by cavil, or the like (whereof
in the faculties of the mind there is great copy, and such as by device
and practice may be exalted to an extreme degree of wonder), than I do of
the tricks of tumblers, funambuloes, baladines; the one being the same in
the mind that the other is in the body, matters of strangeness without
worthiness.

(3) This art of memory is but built upon two intentions; the one
prenotion, the other emblem. Prenotion dischargeth the indefinite
seeking of that we would remember, and directeth us to seek in a narrow
compass, that is, somewhat that hath congruity with our place of memory.
Emblem reduceth conceits intellectual to images sensible, which strike
the memory more; out of which axioms may be drawn much better practice
than that in use; and besides which axioms, there are divers more
touching help of memory not inferior to them. But I did in the beginning
distinguish, not to report those things deficient, which are but only ill
managed.

XVI. (1) There remaineth the fourth kind of rational knowledge, which is
transitive, concerning the expressing or transferring our knowledge to
others, which I will term by the general name of tradition or delivery.
Tradition hath three parts: the first concerning the organ of tradition;
the second concerning the method of tradition; and the third concerning
the illustration of tradition.

(2) For the organ of tradition, it is either speech or writing; for
Aristotle saith well, “Words are the images of cogitations, and letters
are the images of words. ” But yet it is not of necessity that
cogitations be expressed by the medium of words. For whatsoever is
capable of sufficient differences, and those perceptible by the sense, is
in nature competent to express cogitations. And, therefore, we see in
the commerce of barbarous people that understand not one another’s
language, and in the practice of divers that are dumb and deaf, that
men’s minds are expressed in gestures, though not exactly, yet to serve
the turn. And we understand further, that it is the use of China and the
kingdoms of the High Levant to write in characters real, which express
neither letters nor words in gross, but things or notions; insomuch as
countries and provinces which understand not one another’s language can
nevertheless read one another’s writings, because the characters are
accepted more generally than the languages do extend; and, therefore,
they have a vast multitude of characters, as many, I suppose, as radical
words.

(3) These notes of cogitations are of two sorts: the one when the note
hath some similitude or congruity with the notion; the other _ad
placitum_, having force only by contract or acceptation. Of the former
sort are hieroglyphics and gestures. For as to hieroglyphics (things of
ancient use and embraced chiefly by the Egyptians, one of the most
ancient nations), they are but as continued impresses and emblems. And
as for gestures, they are as transitory hieroglyphics, and are to
hieroglyphics as words spoken are to words written, in that they abide
not; but they have evermore, as well as the other, an affinity with the
things signified. As Periander, being consulted with how to preserve a
tyranny newly usurped, bid the messenger attend and report what he saw
him do; and went into his garden and topped all the highest flowers,
signifying that it consisted in the cutting off and keeping low of the
nobility and grandees. _Ad placitum_, are the characters real before
mentioned, and words: although some have been willing by curious inquiry,
or rather by apt feigning, to have derived imposition of names from
reason and intendment; a speculation elegant, and, by reason it searcheth
into antiquity, reverent, but sparingly mixed with truth, and of small
fruit. This portion of knowledge touching the notes of things and
cogitations in general, I find not inquired, but deficient. And although
it may seem of no great use, considering that words and writings by
letters do far excel all the other ways; yet because this part
concerneth, as it were, the mint of knowledge (for words are the tokens
current and accepted for conceits, as moneys are for values, and that it
is fit men be not ignorant that moneys may be of another kind than gold
and silver), I thought good to propound it to better inquiry.

(4) Concerning speech and words, the consideration of them hath produced
the science of grammar. For man still striveth to reintegrate himself in
those benedictions, from which by his fault he hath been deprived; and as
he hath striven against the first general curse by the invention of all
other arts, so hath he sought to come forth of the second general curse
(which was the confusion of tongues) by the art of grammar; whereof the
use in a mother tongue is small, in a foreign tongue more; but most in
such foreign tongues as have ceased to be vulgar tongues, and are turned
only to learned tongues. The duty of it is of two natures: the one
popular, which is for the speedy and perfect attaining languages, as well
for intercourse of speech as for understanding of authors; the other
philosophical, examining the power and nature of words, as they are the
footsteps and prints of reason: which kind of analogy between words and
reason is handled _sparsim_, brokenly though not entirely; and,
therefore, I cannot report it deficient, though I think it very worthy to
be reduced into a science by itself.

(5) Unto grammar also belongeth, as an appendix, the consideration of the
accidents of words; which are measure, sound, and elevation or accent,
and the sweetness and harshness of them: whence hath issued some curious
observations in rhetoric, but chiefly poesy, as we consider it, in
respect of the verse and not of the argument.
Wherein though men in
learned tongues do tie themselves to the ancient measures, yet in modern
languages it seemeth to me as free to make new measures of verses as of
dances; for a dance is a measured pace, as a verse is a measured speech.
In these things this sense is better judge than the art:

“Cœnæ fercula nostræ
Mallem convivis quam placuisse cocis. ”

And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike and an unfit
subject, it is well said, “_Quod tempore antiquum videtur_, _id
incongruitate est maxime novum_. ”

(6) For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or alphabets, but may be in
words. The kinds of ciphers (besides the simple ciphers, with changes,
and intermixtures of nulls and non-significants) are many, according to
the nature or rule of the infolding, wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, doubles,
&c. But the virtues of them, whereby they are to be preferred, are
three; that they be not laborious to write and read; that they be
impossible to decipher; and, in some cases, that they be without
suspicion. The highest degree whereof is to write _omnia per omnia_;
which is undoubtedly possible, with a proportion quintuple at most of the
writing infolding to the writing infolded, and no other restraint
whatsoever. This art of ciphering hath for relative an art of
deciphering, by supposition unprofitable, but, as things are, of great
use. For suppose that ciphers were well managed, there be multitudes of
them which exclude the decipherer. But in regard of the rawness and
unskilfulness of the hands through which they pass, the greatest matters
are many times carried in the weakest ciphers.

(7) In the enumeration of these private and retired arts it may be
thought I seek to make a great muster-roll of sciences, naming them for
show and ostentation, and to little other purpose. But let those, which
are skilful in them, judge whether I bring them in only for appearance,
or whether in that which I speak of them (though in few words) there be
not some seed of proficience. And this must be remembered, that as there
be many of great account in their countries and provinces, which, when
they come up to the seat of the estate, are but of mean rank and scarcely
regarded; so these arts, being here placed with the principal and supreme
sciences, seem petty things: yet to such as have chosen them to spend
their labours and studies in them, they seem great matters.

XVII. (1) For the method of tradition, I see it hath moved a controversy
in our time. But as in civil business, if there be a meeting, and men
fall at words, there is commonly an end of the matter for that time, and
no proceeding at all; so in learning, where there is much controversy,
there is many times little inquiry. For this part of knowledge of method
seemeth to me so weakly inquired as I shall report it deficient.

(2) Method hath been placed, and that not amiss, in logic, as a part of
judgment. For as the doctrine of syllogisms comprehendeth the rules of
judgment upon that which is invented, so the doctrine of method
containeth the rules of judgment upon that which is to be delivered; for
judgment precedeth delivery, as it followeth invention. Neither is the
method or the nature of the tradition material only to the use of
knowledge, but likewise to the progression of knowledge: for since the
labour and life of one man cannot attain to perfection of knowledge, the
wisdom of the tradition is that which inspireth the felicity of
continuance and proceeding. And therefore the most real diversity of
method is of method referred to use, and method referred to progression:
whereof the one may be termed magistral, and the other of probation.

(3) The latter whereof seemeth to be _via deserta et interclusa_. For as
knowledges are now delivered, there is a kind of contract of error
between the deliverer and the receiver. For he that delivereth knowledge
desireth to deliver it in such form as may be best believed, and not as
may be best examined; and he that receiveth knowledge desireth rather
present satisfaction than expectant inquiry; and so rather not to doubt,
than not to err: glory making the author not to lay open his weakness,
and sloth making the disciple not to know his strength.

(4) But knowledge that is delivered as a thread to be spun on ought to be
delivered and intimated, if it were possible, in the same method wherein
it was invented: and so is it possible of knowledge induced. But in this
same anticipated and prevented knowledge, no man knoweth how he came to
the knowledge which he hath obtained. But yet, nevertheless, _secundum
majus et minus_, a man may revisit and descend unto the foundations of
his knowledge and consent; and so transplant it into another, as it grew
in his own mind. For it is in knowledges as it is in plants: if you mean
to use the plant, it is no matter for the roots—but if you mean to remove
it to grow, then it is more assured to rest upon roots than slips: so the
delivery of knowledges (as it is now used) is as of fair bodies of trees
without the roots; good for the carpenter, but not for the planter. But
if you will have sciences grow, it is less matter for the shaft or body
of the tree, so you look well to the taking up of the roots. Of which
kind of delivery the method of the mathematics, in that subject, hath
some shadow: but generally I see it neither put in use nor put in
inquisition, and therefore note it for deficient.

(5) Another diversity of method there is, which hath some affinity with
the former, used in some cases by the discretion of the ancients, but
disgraced since by the impostures of many vain persons, who have made it
as a false light for their counterfeit merchandises; and that is
enigmatical and disclosed. The pretence whereof is, to remove the vulgar
capacities from being admitted to the secrets of knowledges, and to
reserve them to selected auditors, or wits of such sharpness as can
pierce the veil.

(6) Another diversity of method, whereof the consequence is great, is the
delivery of knowledge in aphorisms, or in methods; wherein we may observe
that it hath been too much taken into custom, out of a few axioms or
observations upon any subject, to make a solemn and formal art, filling
it with some discourses, and illustrating it with examples, and digesting
it into a sensible method. But the writing in aphorisms hath many
excellent virtues, whereto the writing in method doth not approach.

(7) For first, it trieth the writer, whether he be superficial or solid:
for aphorisms, except they should be ridiculous, cannot be made but of
the pith and heart of sciences; for discourse of illustration is cut off;
recitals of examples are cut off; discourse of connection and order is
cut off; descriptions of practice are cut off. So there remaineth
nothing to fill the aphorisms but some good quantity of observation; and
therefore no man can suffice, nor in reason will attempt, to write
aphorisms, but he that is sound and grounded. But in methods,

“Tantum series juncturaque pollet,
Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,”

as a man shall make a great show of an art, which, if it were disjointed,
would come to little. Secondly, methods are more fit to win consent or
belief, but less fit to point to action; for they carry a kind of
demonstration in orb or circle, one part illuminating another, and
therefore satisfy. But particulars being dispersed do best agree with
dispersed directions. And lastly, aphorisms, representing a knowledge
broken, do invite men to inquire further; whereas methods, carrying the
show of a total, do secure men, as if they were at furthest.

(8) Another diversity of method, which is likewise of great weight, is
the handling of knowledge by assertions and their proofs, or by questions
and their determinations. The latter kind whereof, if it be immoderately
followed, is as prejudicial to the proceeding of learning as it is to the
proceeding of an army to go about to besiege every little fort or hold.
For if the field be kept, and the sum of the enterprise pursued, those
smaller things will come in of themselves: indeed a man would not leave
some important piece enemy at his back. In like manner, the use of
confutation in the delivery of sciences ought to be very sparing; and to
serve to remove strong preoccupations and prejudgments, and not to
minister and excite disputatious and doubts.

(9) Another diversity of method is, according to the subject or matter
which is handled. For there is a great difference in delivery of the
mathematics, which are the most abstracted of knowledges, and policy,
which is the most immersed. And howsoever contention hath been moved,
touching a uniformity of method in multiformity of matter, yet we see how
that opinion, besides the weakness of it, hath been of ill desert towards
learning, as that which taketh the way to reduce learning to certain
empty and barren generalities; being but the very husks and shells of
sciences, all the kernel being forced out and expulsed with the torture
and press of the method. And, therefore, as I did allow well of
particular topics for invention, so I do allow likewise of particular
methods of tradition.

(10) Another diversity of judgment in the delivery and teaching of
knowledge is, according unto the light and presuppositions of that which
is delivered. For that knowledge which is new, and foreign from opinions
received, is to be delivered in another form than that that is agreeable
and familiar; and therefore Aristotle, when he thinks to tax Democritus,
doth in truth commend him, where he saith “If we shall indeed dispute,
and not follow after similitudes,” &c. For those whose conceits are
seated in popular opinions need only but to prove or dispute; but those
whose conceits are beyond popular opinions, have a double labour; the one
to make themselves conceived, and the other to prove and demonstrate. So
that it is of necessity with them to have recourse to similitudes and
translations to express themselves. And therefore in the infancy of
learning, and in rude times when those conceits which are now trivial
were then new, the world was full of parables and similitudes; for else
would men either have passed over without mark, or else rejected for
paradoxes that which was offered, before they had understood or judged.
So in divine learning, we see how frequent parables and tropes are, for
it is a rule, that whatsoever science is not consonant to presuppositions
must pray in aid of similitudes.

(11) There be also other diversities of methods vulgar and received: as
that of resolution or analysis, of constitution or systasis, of
concealment or cryptic, &c. , which I do allow well of, though I have
stood upon those which are least handled and observed. All which I have
remembered to this purpose, because I would erect and constitute one
general inquiry (which seems to me deficient) touching the wisdom of
tradition.

(12) But unto this part of knowledge, concerning method, doth further
belong not only the architecture of the whole frame of a work, but also
the several beams and columns thereof; not as to their stuff, but as to
their quantity and figure. And therefore method considereth not only the
disposition of the argument or subject, but likewise the propositions:
not as to their truth or matter, but as to their limitation and manner.
For herein Ramus merited better a great deal in reviving the good rules
of propositions—Καθολον πρωτον, κυτα παντος &c. —than he did in
introducing the canker of epitomes; and yet (as it is the condition of
human things that, according to the ancient fables, “the most precious
things have the most pernicious keepers”) it was so, that the attempt of
the one made him fall upon the other. For he had need be well conducted
that should design to make axioms convertible, if he make them not withal
circular, and non-promovent, or incurring into themselves; but yet the
intention was excellent.

(13) The other considerations of method, concerning propositions, are
chiefly touching the utmost propositions, which limit the dimensions of
sciences: for every knowledge may be fitly said, besides the profundity
(which is the truth and substance of it, that makes it solid), to have a
longitude and a latitude; accounting the latitude towards other sciences,
and the longitude towards action; that is, from the greatest generality
to the most particular precept. The one giveth rule how far one
knowledge ought to intermeddle within the province of another, which is
the rule they call Καθαυτο; the other giveth rule unto what degree of
particularity a knowledge should descend: which latter I find passed over
in silence, being in my judgment the more material. For certainty there
must be somewhat left to practice; but how much is worthy the inquiry?
We see remote and superficial generalities do but offer knowledge to
scorn of practical men; and are no more aiding to practice than an
Ortelius’ universal map is to direct the way between London and York.
The better sort of rules have been not unfitly compared to glasses of
steel unpolished, where you may see the images of things, but first they
must be filed: so the rules will help if they be laboured and polished by
practice. But how crystalline they may be made at the first, and how far
forth they may be polished aforehand, is the question, the inquiry
whereof seemeth to me deficient.

(14) There hath been also laboured and put in practice a method, which is
not a lawful method, but a method of imposture: which is, to deliver
knowledges in such manner as men may speedily come to make a show of
learning, who have it not. Such was the travail of Raymundus Lullius in
making that art which bears his name; not unlike to some books of
typocosmy, which have been made since; being nothing but a mass of words
of all arts, to give men countenance, that those which use the terms
might be thought to understand the art; which collections are much like a
fripper’s or broker’s shop, that hath ends of everything, but nothing of
worth.

XVIII. (1) Now we descend to that part which concerneth the illustration
of tradition, comprehended in that science which we call rhetoric, or art
of eloquence, a science excellent, and excellently well laboured. For
although in true value it is inferior to wisdom (as it is said by God to
Moses, when he disabled himself for want of this faculty, “Aaron shall be
thy speaker, and thou shalt be to him as God”), yet with people it is the
more mighty; for so Solomon saith, _Sapiens corde appellabitur prudens_,
_sed dulcis eloquio majora reperiet_, signifying that profoundness of
wisdom will help a man to a name or admiration, but that it is eloquence
that prevaileth in an active life. And as to the labouring of it, the
emulation of Aristotle with the rhetoricians of his time, and the
experience of Cicero, hath made them in their works of rhetoric exceed
themselves. Again, the excellency of examples of eloquence in the
orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, added to the perfection of the
precepts of eloquence, hath doubled the progression in this art; and
therefore the deficiences which I shall note will rather be in some
collections, which may as handmaids attend the art, than in the rules or
use of the art itself.

(2) Notwithstanding, to stir the earth a little about the roots of this
science, as we have done of the rest, the duty and office of rhetoric is
to apply reason to imagination for the better moving of the will. For we
see reason is disturbed in the administration thereof by three means—by
illaqueation or sophism, which pertains to logic; by imagination or
impression, which pertains to rhetoric; and by passion or affection,
which pertains to morality. And as in negotiation with others, men are
wrought by cunning, by importunity, and by vehemency; so in this
negotiation within ourselves, men are undermined by inconsequences,
solicited and importuned by impressions or observations, and transported
by passions. Neither is the nature of man so unfortunately built, as
that those powers and arts should have force to disturb reason, and not
to establish and advance it. For the end of logic is to teach a form of
argument to secure reason, and not to entrap it; the end of morality is
to procure the affections to obey reason, and not to invade it; the end
of rhetoric is to fill the imagination to second reason, and not to
oppress it; for these abuses of arts come in but _ex oblique_, for
caution.

(3) And therefore it was great injustice in Plato, though springing out
of a just hatred to the rhetoricians of his time, to esteem of rhetoric
but as a voluptuary art, resembling it to cookery, that did mar wholesome
meats, and help unwholesome by variety of sauces to the pleasure of the
taste. For we see that speech is much more conversant in adorning that
which is good than in colouring that which is evil; for there is no man
but speaketh more honestly than he can do or think; and it was
excellently noted by Thucydides, in Cleon, that because he used to hold
on the bad side in causes of estate, therefore he was ever inveighing
against eloquence and good speech, knowing that no man can speak fair of
courses sordid and base. And therefore, as Plato said elegantly, “That
virtue, if she could be seen, would move great love and affection;” so
seeing that she cannot be showed to the sense by corporal shape, the next
degree is to show her to the imagination in lively representation; for to
show her to reason only in subtlety of argument was a thing ever derided
in Chrysippus and many of the Stoics, who thought to thrust virtue upon
men by sharp disputations and conclusions, which have no sympathy with
the will of man.

(4) Again, if the affections in themselves were pliant and obedient to
reason, it were true there should be no great use of persuasions and
insinuations to the will, more than of naked proposition and proofs; but
in regard of the continual mutinies and seditious of the affections—

“Video meliora, proboque,
Deteriora sequor,”

reason would become captive and servile, if eloquence of persuasions did
not practise and win the imagination from the affections’ part, and
contract a confederacy between the reason and imagination against the
affections; for the affections themselves carry ever an appetite to good,
as reason doth. The difference is, that the affection beholdeth merely
the present; reason beholdeth the future and sum of time. And,
therefore, the present filling the imagination more, reason is commonly
vanquished; but after that force of eloquence and persuasion hath made
things future and remote appear as present, then upon the revolt of the
imagination reason prevaileth.

(5) We conclude, therefore, that rhetoric can be no more charged with the
colouring of the worst part, than logic with sophistry, or morality with
vice; for we know the doctrines of contraries are the same, though the
use be opposite. It appeareth also that logic differeth from rhetoric,
not only as the fist from the palm—the one close, the other at large—but
much more in this, that logic handleth reason exact and in truth, and
rhetoric handleth it as it is planted in popular opinions and manners.
And therefore Aristotle doth wisely place rhetoric as between logic on
the one side, and moral or civil knowledge on the other, as participating
of both; for the proofs and demonstrations of logic are toward all men
indifferent and the same, but the proofs and persuasions of rhetoric
ought to differ according to the auditors:

“Orpheus in sylvis, inter delphinas Arion. ”

Which application in perfection of idea ought to extend so far that if a
man should speak of the same thing to several persons, he should speak to
them all respectively and several ways; though this politic part of
eloquence in private speech it is easy for the greatest orators to want:
whilst, by the observing their well-graced forms of speech, they leese
the volubility of application; and therefore it shall not be amiss to
recommend this to better inquiry, not being curious whether we place it
here or in that part which concerneth policy.

(6) Now therefore will I descend to the deficiences, which, as I said,
are but attendances; and first, I do not find the wisdom and diligence of
Aristotle well pursued, who began to make a collection of the popular
signs and colours of good and evil, both simple and comparative, which
are as the sophisms of rhetoric (as I touched before). For example—

“Sophisma.

Quod laudatur, bonum: quod vituperatur, malum.

Redargutio.

Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces. ”

_Malum est_, _malum est_ (_inquit emptor_): _sed cum recesserit_, _tum
gloriabitur_! The defects in the labour of Aristotle are three—one, that
there be but a few of many; another, that there elenches are not annexed;
and the third, that he conceived but a part of the use of them: for their
use is not only in probation, but much more in impression. For many
forms are equal in signification which are differing in impression, as
the difference is great in the piercing of that which is sharp and that
which is flat, though the strength of the percussion be the same. For
there is no man but will be a little more raised by hearing it said,
“Your enemies will be glad of this”—

“Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridæ. ”

than by hearing it said only, “This is evil for you. ”

(7) Secondly, I do resume also that which I mentioned before, touching
provision or preparatory store for the furniture of speech and readiness
of invention, which appeareth to be of two sorts: the one in resemblance
to a shop of pieces unmade up, the other to a shop of things ready made
up; both to be applied to that which is frequent and most in request.
The former of these I will call _antitheta_, and the latter _formulæ_.

(8) _Antitheta_ are theses argued _pro et contra_, wherein men may be
more large and laborious; but (in such as are able to do it) to avoid
prolixity of entry, I wish the seeds of the several arguments to be cast
up into some brief and acute sentences, not to be cited, but to be as
skeins or bottoms of thread, to be unwinded at large when they come to be
used; supplying authorities and examples by reference.

“_Pro verbis legis_.
Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, quæ recedit a litera:
Cum receditur a litera, judex transit in legislatorem.

_Pro sententia legis_.
Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensus qui interpretatur singula. ”

(9) _Formulæ_ are but decent and apt passages or conveyances of speech,
which may serve indifferently for differing subjects; as of preface,
conclusion, digression, transition, excusation, &c. For as in buildings
there is great pleasure and use in the well casting of the staircases,
entries, doors, windows, and the like; so in speech, the conveyances and
passages are of special ornament and effect.

“_A conclusion in a deliberative_.
So may we redeem the faults passed, and prevent the inconveniences
future. ”

XIX. (1) There remain two appendices touching the tradition of knowledge,
the one critical, the other pedantical. For all knowledge is either
delivered by teachers, or attained by men’s proper endeavours: and
therefore as the principal part of tradition of knowledge concerneth
chiefly writing of books, so the relative part thereof concerneth reading
of books; whereunto appertain incidently these considerations. The first
is concerning the true correction and edition of authors; wherein
nevertheless rash diligence hath done great prejudice. For these critics
have often presumed that that which they understand not is false set
down: as the priest that, where he found it written of St. Paul _Demissus
est per sportam_, mended his book, and made it _Demissus est per portam_;
because _sporta_ was a hard word, and out of his reading: and surely
their errors, though they be not so palpable and ridiculous, yet are of
the same kind. And therefore, as it hath been wisely noted, the most
corrected copies are commonly the least correct.

The second is concerning the exposition and explication of authors, which
resteth in annotations and commentaries: wherein it is over usual to
blanch the obscure places and discourse upon the plain.

The third is concerning the times, which in many cases give great light
to true interpretations.

The fourth is concerning some brief censure and judgment of the authors;
that men thereby may make some election unto themselves what books to
read.

And the fifth is concerning the syntax and disposition of studies; that
men may know in what order or pursuit to read.

(2) For pedantical knowledge, it containeth that difference of tradition
which is proper for youth; whereunto appertain divers considerations of
great fruit.

As first, the timing and seasoning of knowledges; as with what to
initiate them, and from what for a time to refrain them.

Secondly, the consideration where to begin with the easiest, and so
proceed to the more difficult; and in what courses to press the more
difficult, and then to turn them to the more easy; for it is one method
to practise swimming with bladders, and another to practise dancing with
heavy shoes.

A third is the application of learning according unto the propriety of
the wits; for there is no defect in the faculties intellectual, but
seemeth to have a proper cure contained in some studies: as, for example,
if a child be bird-witted, that is, hath not the faculty of attention,
the mathematics giveth a remedy thereunto; for in them, if the wit be
caught away but a moment, one is new to begin. And as sciences have a
propriety towards faculties for cure and help, so faculties or powers
have a sympathy towards sciences for excellency or speedy profiting: and
therefore it is an inquiry of great wisdom, what kinds of wits and
natures are most apt and proper for what sciences.

Fourthly, the ordering of exercises is matter of great consequence to
hurt or help: for, as is well observed by Cicero, men in exercising their
faculties, if they be not well advised, do exercise their faults and get
ill habits as well as good; so as there is a great judgment to be had in
the continuance and intermission of exercises. It were too long to
particularise a number of other considerations of this nature, things but
of mean appearance, but of singular efficacy. For as the wronging or
cherishing of seeds or young plants is that that is most important to
their thriving, and as it was noted that the first six kings being in
truth as tutors of the state of Rome in the infancy thereof was the
principal cause of the immense greatness of that state which followed, so
the culture and manurance of minds in youth hath such a forcible (though
unseen) operation, as hardly any length of time or contention of labour
can countervail it afterwards. And it is not amiss to observe also how
small and mean faculties gotten by education, yet when they fall into
great men or great matters, do work great and important effects: whereof
we see a notable example in Tacitus of two stage players, Percennius and
Vibulenus, who by their faculty of playing put the Pannonian armies into
an extreme tumult and combustion. For there arising a mutiny amongst
them upon the death of Augustus Cæsar, Blæsus the lieutenant had
committed some of the mutineers, which were suddenly rescued; whereupon
Vibulenus got to be heard speak, which he did in this manner:—“These poor
innocent wretches appointed to cruel death, you have restored to behold
the light; but who shall restore my brother to me, or life unto my
brother, that was sent hither in message from the legions of Germany, to
treat of the common cause? and he hath murdered him this last night by
some of his fencers and ruffians, that he hath about him for his
executioners upon soldiers. Answer, Blæsus, what is done with his body?
The mortalest enemies do not deny burial. When I have performed my last
duties to the corpse with kisses, with tears, command me to be slain
besides him; so that these my fellows, for our good meaning and our true
hearts to the legions, may have leave to bury us. ” With which speech he
put the army into an infinite fury and uproar: whereas truth was he had
no brother, neither was there any such matter; but he played it merely as
if he had been upon the stage.

(3) But to return: we are now come to a period of rational knowledges;
wherein if I have made the divisions other than those that are received,
yet would I not be thought to disallow all those divisions which I do not
use. For there is a double necessity imposed upon me of altering the
divisions. The one, because it differeth in end and purpose, to sort
together those things which are next in nature, and those things which
are next in use. For if a secretary of estate should sort his papers, it
is like in his study or general cabinet he would sort together things of
a nature, as treaties, instructions, &c. But in his boxes or particular
cabinet he would sort together those that he were like to use together,
though of several natures. So in this general cabinet of knowledge it
was necessary for me to follow the divisions of the nature of things;
whereas if myself had been to handle any particular knowledge, I would
have respected the divisions fittest for use. The other, because the
bringing in of the deficiences did by consequence alter the partitions of
the rest. For let the knowledge extant (for demonstration sake) be
fifteen. Let the knowledge with the deficiences be twenty; the parts of
fifteen are not the parts of twenty; for the parts of fifteen are three
and five; the parts of twenty are two, four, five, and ten. So as these
things are without contradiction, and could not otherwise be.

XX. (1) We proceed now to that knowledge which considereth of the
appetite and will of man: whereof Solomon saith, _Ante omnia_, _fili_,
_custodi cor tuum_: _nam inde procedunt actiones vitæ_. In the handling
of this science, those which have written seem to me to have done as if a
man, that professed to teach to write, did only exhibit fair copies of
alphabets and letters joined, without giving any precepts or directions
for the carriage of the hand and framing of the letters. So have they
made good and fair exemplars and copies, carrying the draughts and
portraitures of good, virtue, duty, felicity; propounding them well
described as the true objects and scopes of man’s will and desires. But
how to attain these excellent marks, and how to frame and subdue the will
of man to become true and conformable to these pursuits, they pass it
over altogether, or slightly and unprofitably. For it is not the
disputing that moral virtues are in the mind of man by habit and not by
nature, or the distinguishing that generous spirits are won by doctrines
and persuasions, and the vulgar sort by reward and punishment, and the
like scattered glances and touches, that can excuse the absence of this
part.

(2) The reason of this omission I suppose to be that hidden rock
whereupon both this and many other barks of knowledge have been cast
away; which is, that men have despised to be conversant in ordinary and
common matters, the judicious direction whereof nevertheless is the
wisest doctrine (for life consisteth not in novelties nor subtleties),
but contrariwise they have compounded sciences chiefly of a certain
resplendent or lustrous mass of matter, chosen to give glory either to
the subtlety of disputatious, or to the eloquence of discourses. But
Seneca giveth an excellent check to eloquence, _Nocet illis eloquentia_,
_quibus non rerum cupiditatem facit_, _sed sui_. Doctrine should be such
as should make men in love with the lesson, and not with the teacher;
being directed to the auditor’s benefit, and not to the author’s
commendation. And therefore those are of the right kind which may be
concluded as Demosthenes concludes his counsel, _Quæ si feceritis_, _non
oratorem dumtaxat in præsentia laudabitis_, _sed vosmetipsos etiam non
ita multo post statu rerum vestraram meliore_.

(3) Neither needed men of so excellent parts to have despaired of a
fortune, which the poet Virgil promised himself, and indeed obtained, who
got as much glory of eloquence, wit, and learning in the expressing of
the observations of husbandry, as of the heroical acts of Æneas:

“Nec sum animi dubius, verbis ea vincere magnum
Quam sit, et angustis his addere rebus honorem. ”

And surely, if the purpose be in good earnest, not to write at leisure
that which men may read at leisure, but really to instruct and suborn
action and active life, these Georgics of the mind, concerning the
husbandry and tillage thereof, are no less worthy than the heroical
descriptions of virtue, duty, and felicity. Wherefore the main and
primitive division of moral knowledge seemeth to be into the exemplar or
platform of good, and the regiment or culture of the mind: the one
describing the nature of good, the other prescribing rules how to subdue,
apply, and accommodate the will of man thereunto.

(4) The doctrine touching the platform or nature of good considereth it
either simple or compared; either the kinds of good, or the degrees of
good; in the latter whereof those infinite disputatious which were
touching the supreme degree thereof, which they term felicity, beatitude,
or the highest good, the doctrines concerning which were as the heathen
divinity, are by the Christian faith discharged. And as Aristotle saith,
“That young men may be happy, but not otherwise but by hope;” so we must
all acknowledge our minority, and embrace the felicity which is by hope
of the future world.

(5) Freed therefore and delivered from this doctrine of the philosopher’s
heaven, whereby they feigned a higher elevation of man’s nature than was
(for we see in what height of style Seneca writeth, _Vere magnum_,
_habere fragilitatem hominis_, _securitatem Dei_), we may with more
sobriety and truth receive the rest of their inquiries and labours.
Wherein for the nature of good positive or simple, they have set it down
excellently in describing the forms of virtue and duty, with their
situations and postures; in distributing them into their kinds, parts,
provinces, actions, and administrations, and the like: nay further, they
have commended them to man’s nature and spirit with great quickness of
argument and beauty of persuasions; yea, and fortified and entrenched
them (as much as discourse can do) against corrupt and popular opinions.
Again, for the degrees and comparative nature of good, they have also
excellently handled it in their triplicity of good, in the comparisons
between a contemplative and an active life, in the distinction between
virtue with reluctation and virtue secured, in their encounters between
honesty and profit, in their balancing of virtue with virtue, and the
like; so as this part deserveth to be reported for excellently laboured.

(6) Notwithstanding, if before they had come to the popular and received
notions of virtue and vice, pleasure and pain, and the rest, they had
stayed a little longer upon the inquiry concerning the roots of good and
evil, and the strings of those roots, they had given, in my opinion, a
great light to that which followed; and specially if they had consulted
with nature, they had made their doctrines less prolix and more profound:
which being by them in part omitted and in part handled with much
confusion, we will endeavour to resume and open in a more clear manner.

(7) There is formed in everything a double nature of good—the one, as
everything is a total or substantive in itself; the other, as it is a
part or member of a greater body; whereof the latter is in degree the
greater and the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation of a
more general form. Therefore we see the iron in particular sympathy
moveth to the loadstone; but yet if it exceed a certain quantity, it
forsaketh the affection to the loadstone, and like a good patriot moveth
to the earth, which is the region and country of massy bodies; so may we
go forward, and see that water and massy bodies move to the centre of the
earth; but rather than to suffer a divulsion in the continuance of
nature, they will move upwards from the centre of the earth, forsaking
their duty to the earth in regard of their duty to the world. This
double nature of good, and the comparative thereof, is much more engraven
upon man, if he degenerate not, unto whom the conservation of duty to the
public ought to be much more precious than the conservation of life and
being; according to that memorable speech of Pompeius Magnus, when being
in commission of purveyance for a famine at Rome, and being dissuaded
with great vehemency and instance by his friends about him, that he
should not hazard himself to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only
to them, _Necesse est ut eam_, _non ut vivam_. But it may be truly
affirmed that there was never any philosophy, religion, or other
discipline, which did so plainly and highly exalt the good which is
communicative, and depress the good which is private and particular, as
the Holy Faith; well declaring that it was the same God that gave the
Christian law to men, who gave those laws of nature to inanimate
creatures that we spake of before; for we read that the elected saints of
God have wished themselves anathematised and razed out of the book of
life, in an ecstasy of charity and infinite feeling of communion.

(8) This being set down and strongly planted, doth judge and determine
most of the controversies wherein moral philosophy is conversant. For
first, it decideth the question touching the preferment of the
contemplative or active life, and decideth it against Aristotle. For all
the reasons which he bringeth for the contemplative are private, and
respecting the pleasure and dignity of a man’s self (in which respects no
question the contemplative life hath the pre-eminence), not much unlike
to that comparison which Pythagoras made for the gracing and magnifying
of philosophy and contemplation, who being asked what he was, answered,
“That if Hiero were ever at the Olympian games, he knew the manner, that
some came to try their fortune for the prizes, and some came as merchants
to utter their commodities, and some came to make good cheer and meet
their friends, and some came to look on; and that he was one of them that
came to look on. ” But men must know, that in this theatre of man’s life
it is reserved only for God and angels to be lookers on. Neither could
the like question ever have been received in the Church, notwithstanding
their _Pretiosa in oculis Domini mors sanctorum ejus_, by which place
they would exalt their civil death and regular professions, but upon this
defence, that the monastical life is not simple contemplative, but
performeth the duty either of incessant prayers and supplications, which
hath been truly esteemed as an office in the Church, or else of writing
or taking instructions for writing concerning the law of God, as Moses
did when he abode so long in the mount. And so we see Enoch, the seventh
from Adam, who was the first contemplative and walked with God, yet did
also endow the Church with prophecy, which Saint Jude citeth. But for
contemplation which should be finished in itself, without casting beams
upon society, assuredly divinity knoweth it not.

(9) It decideth also the controversies between Zeno and Socrates, and
their schools and successions, on the one side, who placed felicity in
virtue simply or attended, the actions and exercises whereof do chiefly
embrace and concern society; and on the other side, the Cyrenaics and
Epicureans, who placed it in pleasure, and made virtue (as it is used in
some comedies of errors, wherein the mistress and the maid change habits)
to be but as a servant, without which pleasure cannot be served and
attended; and the reformed school of the Epicureans, which placed it in
serenity of mind and freedom from perturbation; as if they would have
deposed Jupiter again, and restored Saturn and the first age, when there
was no summer nor winter, spring nor autumn, but all after one air and
season; and Herillus, which placed felicity in extinguishment of the
disputes of the mind, making no fixed nature of good and evil, esteeming
things according to the clearness of the desires, or the reluctation;
which opinion was revived in the heresy of the Anabaptists, measuring
things according to the motions of the spirit, and the constancy or
wavering of belief; all which are manifest to tend to private repose and
contentment, and not to point of society.

(10) It censureth also the philosophy of Epictetus, which presupposeth
that felicity must be placed in those things which are in our power, lest
we be liable to fortune and disturbance; as if it were not a thing much
more happy to fail in good and virtuous ends for the public, than to
obtain all that we can wish to ourselves in our proper fortune: as
Consalvo said to his soldiers, showing them Naples, and protesting he had
rather die one foot forwards, than to have his life secured for long by
one foot of retreat. Whereunto the wisdom of that heavenly leader hath
signed, who hath affirmed that “a good conscience is a continual feast;”
showing plainly that the conscience of good intentions, howsoever
succeeding, is a more continual joy to nature than all the provision
which can be made for security and repose.

(11) It censureth likewise that abuse of philosophy which grew general
about the time of Epictetus, in converting it into an occupation or
profession; as if the purpose had been, not to resist and extinguish
perturbations, but to fly and avoid the causes of them, and to shape a
particular kind and course of life to that end; introducing such a health
of mind, as was that health of body of which Aristotle speaketh of
Herodicus, who did nothing all his life long but intend his health;
whereas if men refer themselves to duties of society, as that health of
body is best which is ablest to endure all alterations and extremities,
so likewise that health of mind is most proper which can go through the
greatest temptations and perturbations. So as Diogenes’ opinion is to be
accepted, who commended not them which abstained, but them which
sustained, and could refrain their mind _in præcipitio_, and could give
unto the mind (as is used in horsemanship) the shortest stop or turn.

(12) Lastly, it censureth the tenderness and want of application in some
of the most ancient and reverend philosophers and philosophical men, that
did retire too easily from civil business, for avoiding of indignities
and perturbations; whereas the resolution of men truly moral ought to be
such as the same Consalvo said the honour of a soldier should be, _e telâ
crassiore_, and not so fine as that everything should catch in it and
endanger it.

XXI. (1) To resume private or particular good, it falleth into the
division of good active and passive; for this difference of good (not
unlike to that which amongst the Romans was expressed in the familiar or
household terms of _promus_ and _condus_) is formed also in all things,
and is best disclosed in the two several appetites in creatures; the one
to preserve or continue themselves, and the other to dilate or multiply
themselves, whereof the latter seemeth to be the worthier; for in nature
the heavens, which are the more worthy, are the agent, and the earth,
which is the less worthy, is the patient. In the pleasures of living
creatures, that of generation is greater than that of food. In divine
doctrine, _beatius est dare quam accipere_. And in life, there is no
man’s spirit so soft, but esteemeth the effecting of somewhat that he
hath fixed in his desire, more than sensuality, which priority of the
active good is much upheld by the consideration of our estate to be
mortal and exposed to fortune. For if we might have a perpetuity and
certainty in our pleasures, the state of them would advance their price.
But when we see it is but _magni æstimamus mori tardius_, and _ne
glorieris de crastino_, _nescis partum diei_, it maketh us to desire to
have somewhat secured and exempted from time, which are only our deeds
and works; as it is said, _Opera eorum sequuntur eos_. The pre-eminence
likewise of this active good is upheld by the affection which is natural
in man towards variety and proceeding, which in the pleasures of the
sense, which is the principal part of passive good, can have no great
latitude. _Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris_; _cibus_, _somnus_, _ludus per
hunc circulum curritur_; _mori velle non tantum fortis_, _aut miser_,
_aut prudens_, _sed etiam fastidiosus potest_. But in enterprises,
pursuits, and purposes of life, there is much variety; whereof men are
sensible with pleasure in their inceptions, progressions, recoils,
reintegrations, approaches and attainings to their ends. So as it was
well said, _Vita sine proposito languida et vaga est_. Neither hath this
active good an identity with the good of society, though in some cases it
hath an incidence into it. For although it do many times bring forth
acts of beneficence, yet it is with a respect private to a man’s own
power, glory, amplification, continuance; as appeareth plainly, when it
findeth a contrary subject. For that gigantine state of mind which
possesseth the troublers of the world, such as was Lucius Sylla and
infinite other in smaller model, who would have all men happy or unhappy
as they were their friends or enemies, and would give form to the world,
according to their own humours (which is the true theomachy), pretendeth
and aspireth to active good, though it recedeth furthest from good of
society, which we have determined to be the greater.

(2) To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision of conservative
and effective. For let us take a brief review of that which we have
said: we have spoken first of the good of society, the intention whereof
embraceth the form of human nature, whereof we are members and portions,
and not our own proper and individual form; we have spoken of active
good, and supposed it as a part of private and particular good. And
rightly, for there is impressed upon all things a triple desire or
appetite proceeding from love to themselves: one of preserving and
continuing their form; another of advancing and perfecting their form;
and a third of multiplying and extending their form upon other things:
whereof the multiplying, or signature of it upon other things, is that
which we handled by the name of active good. So as there remaineth the
conserving of it, and perfecting or raising of it, which latter is the
highest degree of passive good.