The Works of Francis Bacon/Volume 1/The Wisdom of the Ancients

by Francis Bacon

THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

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CASSANDRA, OR DIVINATION.

The poets fable, that Apollo being enamoured of Cassandra, was, by her many shifts and cunning sleights, still deluded in his desire; but yet fed on with hope until such time as she had drawn from him the gift of prophesying; and having by such her dissimulation, in the end attained to that which from the beginning she sought after, at last flatly rejected his suit: who, finding himself so far engaged in his promise, as that he could not by any means revoke again his rash gift, and yet inflamed with an earnest desire of revenge, highly disdaining to be made the scorn of a crafty wench, annexed a penalty to his promise, to wit, that she should ever foretell the truth, but never be believed; so were her divinations always faithful, but at no time regarded, whereof she still found the experience, yea, even in the ruin of her own country, which she had often forewarned them of, but they neither gave credit nor ear to her words.

This fable seems to intimate the unprofitable liberty of untimely admonitions and counsels: for they that are so overweened with the sharpness and dexterity of their own wit and capacity, as that they disdain to submit themselves to the documents of Apollo, the god of harmony, whereby to learn and observe the method and measure of affairs, the grace and gravity of discourse, the differences between the more judicious and more vulgar ears, and the due times when to speak and when to be silent; be they never so sensible and pregnant, and their judgments never so profound and profitable, yet in all their endeavours either of persuasion or perforce, they avail nothing; neither are they of any moment to advantage or manage matters, but do rather hasten on the ruin of all those that they adhere or devote themselves unto; and then, at last, when calamity hath made men feel the event of neglect, then shall they, too late, be reverenced as deep foreseeing arvd faithful prophets: whereof a notable instance is eminently set forth in Marcus Cato Uticensis, who, as from a watch-tower, discovered afar off, and as an oracle long foretold, the approaching ruin of his country, and the plotted tyranny hovering over the state, both in the first conspiracy, and as it was prosecuted in the civil contention between Cæsar and Pompey, and did no good the while, but rather harmed the commonwealth and hastened on his country's bane; which M. Cicero wisely observed, and writing to a familiar friend, doth in these terms excellently describe, "Cato optime sentit, sed nocet interduru Reipublicæ: loquitur enim tanquam in Republicâ Platonis, non tanquam in fæce Romuli." Cato (saith he) judgeth profoundly, but in the mean time damnifies the state, for he speaks as in the commonwealth of Plato, and not as in the dregs of Romulus.

TYPHON, OR A REBEL.

Juno, being vexed (say the poets) that Jupiter had begotten Pallas by himself without her, earnestly pressed all the other gods and goddesses,that she might also bring forth of herself alone without him; and having by violence and importunity obtained a grant thereof, she smote the earth, and forthwith sprang up Typhon, a huge and horrid monster. This strange birth she commits to a serpent, as a foster-father, to nourish it; who no sooner came to ripeness of years but he provokes Jupiter to battle. In the conflict, the giant, getting the upper hand, takes Jupiter upon his shoulders, carries him into a remote and obscure country, and (cutting out the sinews of his hands and feet) brought them away, and so left him miserably mangled and maimed; but Mercury recovering these nerves from Typhon by stealth, restored them again to Jupiter. Jupiter being again by this means corroborated, assaults the monster afresh, and at the first strikes him with a thunderbolt, from whose blood serpents were engendered. This monster at length fainting and flying, Jupiter casts on him the mount Ætna, and with the weight thereof crushed him.

This fable seems to point at the variable fortune of princes, and the rebellious insurrection of traitors in state. For princes may well be said to be married to their dominions, as Jupiter was to Juno; but it happens now and then, that being deboshed by the long custom of empiring and bending towards tyranny, they endeavour to draw all to themselves, and, contemning the counsel of their nobles and senators, hatch laws in their own brain, that is, dispose of things by their own fancy and absolute power. The people, repining at this, study how to create and set up a chief of their own choice. This project, by the secret instigation of the peers and nobles, doth for the most part take his beginning; by whose connivance the commons being set on edge, there follows a kind of murmuring or discontent in the state, shadowed by the infancy of Typhon, which being nursed by the natural pravity, and clownish malignity of the vulgar sort, (unto princes as infestuous as serpents,) is again repaired by renewed strength, and at last breaks out into open rebellion, which, because it brings infinite mischiefs upon prince and people, is represented by the monstrous deformity of Typhon: his hundred heads signify their divided powers, his fiery mouths their in flamed intents, his serpentine circles their pestilent malice in besieging, his iron hands their merciless slaughters, his eagle's talons their greedy rapines, his plumed body their continual rumours, and scouts, and fears, and suchlike; and some times these rebellions grow so potent, that princes are enforced (transported as it were by the rebels, and forsaking the chief seats and cities of the kingdom) to contract their power, and, being deprived of the sinews of money and majesty, be take themselves to some remote and obscure corner within their dominions; but in process of time, if they bear their misfortunes with moderation, they may recover their strength by the virtue and industry of Mercury, that is, they may, by be coming affable, and by reconciling the minds and wills of their subjects with grave edicts and gracious speech, excite an alacrity to grant aids and subsidies whereby to strengthen their authority anew. Nevertheless, having learned to be wise and wary, they will refrain to try the chance of fortune by war, and yet study how to suppress the reputation of the rebels by some famous action, which if it fall out answerable to their expectation, the rebels, finding themselves weakened, and fearing the success of their broken projects, betake themselves to some sleight and vain bravadoes like the hissing of serpents, and at length in despair betake themselves to flight, and then when they begin to break, it is safe and timely for kings to pursue and oppress them with the forces and weight of the kingdom, as it were with the mountain Ætna.

THE CYCLOPS, OR THE MINISTERS OF TERROR.

They say the Cyclops, for their fierceness and cruelty, were by Jupiter cast into hell, and there doomed to perpetual imprisonment; but Tellus persuaded Jupiter that it would do well, if being set at liberty, they were put to forge thunderbolts, which being done accordingly, they became so painful and industrious, as that day and night they continued hammering out in laborious diligence thunderbolts and other instruments of terror. In process of time Jupiter having conceived a dis pleasure against Æsculapius, the son of Apollo, for restoring a dead man to life by physic, and concealing his dislike because there was no just cause of anger, the deed being pious and famous, secretly incensed the Cyclops against him, who without delay slew him with a thunderbolt; in revenge of which act, Apollo, Jupiter not prohibiting it, shot them to death with his arrows. This fable may be applied to the projects of kings, who having cruel, bloody, and exacting officers, do first punish and displace them; after wards, by the counsel of Tellus, that is of some base and ignoble person, and by the prevailing respect of profit, they admit them into their places again, that they may have instruments in a readiness, if at any time there should need either severity of execution or accerbity of exaction. These servile creatures being by nature cruel, and by their former fortune exasperated,, and perceiving well what is expected at their hands, do show themselves wonderful officious in such kind of employments; but being too rash and precipi tate in seeking countenance and creeping into favour, do sometimes take occasion, from the secret beckonings and ambiguous commands of their prince, to perform some hateful executio-n. But princes abhorring the fact, and knowing well that they shall never want such kind of instru ments, do utterly forsake them, turning them over to the friends and allies of the wronged, to their accusations and revenge, and to the general hatred of the people; so that with great applause and prosperous wishes and acclamations towards the prince, they are brought rather too late than undeservedly to a miserable end.

NARCISSUS, OR SELF-LOVE.

They say that Narcissus was exceeding fair and beautiful, but wonderful proud and disdain ful; wherefore despising all others in respect of himself, he leads a solitary life in the woods and chases with a few followers, to whom he alone was all in all; amongst the rest there follows him the nymph Echo. During his course of life, it fatally so chanced that he came to a clear foun tain, upon the bank whereof he lay down to re pose himself in the heat of the day; and having espied the shadow of his own face in the water, was so besotted and ravished with the contem plation and admiration thereof, that he by no means possibly could be drawn from beholding his image in this glass; insomuch, that by con tinual gazing thereupon, he pined away to nothing, and was at last turned into a flower of his own name, which appears in the beginning of the spring, and is sacred to the infernal powers, Pluto, Proserpina, and the Furies. This fable seems to show the dispositions and fortunes of those, who in respect either of their beauty or other gift wherewith they are adorned and graced by nature, without the help of indus try, are so far besotted in themselves as that they prove the cause of their own destruction. For it is the property of men infected with this humour not to come much abroad, or to be conversant in civil affairs; specially seeing those that are in public place must of necessity encounter with many contempts and scorns which may much deject and trouble their minds; and therefore they lead for the most part a solitary, private, and obscure life, attended on with a few followers, an 1 those such as will adore and admire them, like an echo, flatter them in all their sayings, and applaud them in all their words; so that being by this custom seduced and puffed up, and as it were stupified with the admiration of themselves many outwardly si-nulii" fair pretexts, imperially seeing there is no umpire or moderator of matters concluded upon, to whom a reason should In* tendered. Therefore there is no true and proper thing made choice of for the confirmation of faith, and that no celestial power neither, but is indeed necessity, (a great god to great potentates,) the peril also of state, and the communication of profit. As for necessity, it is elegantly represented by Styx, that fatal and irremeable river; and they are possessed with so strange a sloth and j this godhead did Ipichrates, the Athenian, call to idleness, that they grow in a manner benumbed " and defective of all vigour and alacrity. Elegantly doth this flower, appearing in the begin ning of the spring, represent the likeness of these men's dispositions, who in their youth do flourish and wax famous; but being come to ripeness of years, they deceive and frustrate the good hope that is conceived of them. Neither is it impertinent that this flower is said to be consecrated to the infernal deities, because men of this disposition become unprofitable to all human things. For whatsoever produceth no fruit of itself, but passeth and vanisheth as if it never had been, like the way of a ship in the sea, that the ancients were wont to dedicate to the ghosts, and powers below.

STYX, OR LEAGUES.

The oath by which the gods were wont to oblige themselves when they meant to ratify any thing so firmly as never to revoke it, is a thing well known to the vulgar, as being mentioned almost in every fable, which was, when they did not invoke or call to witness any celestial majesty or divine power, but only the river Styx, that with crooked and meandry turnings encircleth the pa lace of the infernal Dis. This was held as the only manner of their sacrament, and, besides it, not any other vow to be accounted firm and inviolable, and therefore the punishment to be inflicted, if any did perjure themselves, was, that for certain years they should be put out of commons, and not to be admitted to the table of the gods. This fable seems to point at the leagues and pacts of princes, of which more truly than opportunely may be said, that be they never so strongly confirmed with the solemnity and religion of an oath, yet are for the most part of no validity; insomuch, that they are made rather with an eye to reputation, and report, and ceremony, than to faith, security, and effect. More over, add to these the bonds of affinity, as the sacraments of nature, and mutual deserts of each part, and you shall observe, that with a great many, all these things are placed a degree under ambition and profit, and the licentious desire of domination; and so much the rather, because it is an easy thing for princes to defend and cover their unlawful desires and unfaithful vows with the confirmation of a league, who, because he alone is found to speak plainly that which many hide covertly in their breasts, it would not be amiss to relate his words. lie observing how the Lacaedemonians had thought upon and pro pounded divers cautions, sanctions, confirmations, and bonds, pertaining to leagues, interposed thus: " Unum Lacaedemonii, nobis vobiscum vinculum, et securitatis ratio essc possit, si plane demonstretis, vos ea nobis concessisse, et inter manus posuisse, ut vobis facultas laedendi nos si maxime velletis minime suppetere possit." There is one thing, oh Lacsedemoriians! that would link us unto you in the bond of amity, and be the occasion of peace and security, which is, if you would plainly demonstrate that you have yielded up and put into our hands such things as that, would you hurt us never so fain, you should yet be disfurnished of means to do it. If, therefore, the power of hurting be taken away, or if, by breach of league, there follow the danger of the ruin or diminution of the state or tribute, then indeed the leagues may seem to be ratified and established, and as it were confirmed by the sacrament of the Stygian lake; seeing that it includes the fear of prohibition and suspension from the table of the gods, under which name the laws and prerogatives, the plenty and felicity of a kingdom were signified by the ancients.

PAN, OR NATURE.

The ancients have exquisitely described Nature under the person of Pan, whose original they leave doubtful; for some say that he was the son of Mercury, others attribute unto him a far different beginning, affirming him to be the common offspring of Penelope's suitors, upon a suspicion that every one of them had to do with her; which latter relation doubtless gave occasion to some after writers to entitle this ancient fable with the name of Penelope: a thing very frequent amongst them when they apply old fictions to young persons and names, and that many times absurdly and indiscreetly, as may be seen here: for Pan, being one of the ancient gods, was long before the time of Ulysses and Penelope, Be sides, for her matrimonial chastity, she was held venerable by antiquity. Neither may we pretermit the third conceit of his birth: for some say that he was the son of Jupiter and Hybris, which signifies contumely or disdain: but howsoever begotten, the Parcae, they say, were his sisters. He is portrayed by the ancients in this guise; on his head a pair of horns to reach to heaven, his body rough and hairy, his beard long and shaggy, his shape biformed, above like a man, below like a beast, his feet like goats' hoofs; bearing these ensigns of his jurisdiction, to wit, in his left hand a pipe of seven reeds, and in his right a sheep-hook, or a staff crooked at the upper end, and his mantle made of a leopard's skin. His dignities and offices were these: he was the god of hunters, of shepherds, and of all rural inhabitants; chief president also of hill and mountains; and, next to Mercury, the ambassador of the gods. Moreover, he was accounted the leader and commander of the nymphs, which were always wont to dance the rounds, and frisk about him; he was accosted by the satyrs and the old Sileni. He had power also to strike men with terrors, and those especially vain and superstitious, which are termed panic fears. His acts were not many for aught that can be found in records; the chiefest was, that he challenged Cupid at wrestling, in which conflict he had the foil. The tale goes, too, how that he caught the giant Typhon in a net, and held him fast. Moreover, when Ceres, grumbling and chafing that Proserpina was ravished, had hid herself away, and that all the gods took pains, by dispersing themselves into every corner, to find her out, it was only his good hap, as he was hunting, to light on her, and acquaint the rest where she was. He presumed also to put it to trial who was the best musician, he or Apollo; and by the judgment of Midas was indeed prefer red: but the wise judge had a pair of asses ears privily chopped to his noddle for his sentence. Of his love tricks there is nothing reported, or at least not much; a thing to be wondered at, especially being among a troop of gods so profusely amorous. This only is said of him, that he loved the nymph Echo, whom he took to wife; and one pretty wench more called Syrinx, towards whom Cupid, in an angry and revengful humour, because so audaciously he had challenged him at wresting, inflamed his desire. Moreover, he had no "sue, which is a marvel also, seeing the gods, especially those of the male kind, were very geneitive, only he was the reputed father of a little girl called Iambe, that with many pretty tales was wont to make strangers merry: but some think that he did indeed beget her by his wife Iambe This, if any be, is a noble tale, as being laid out and big bellied with the secrets and mysteries of nature. Pan, as his name imports, represents and lays open the all of things or nature. Concerning his original there are two only opinions that go for current; for either he came of Mercury, that is, the Word of God, which the Holy Scriptures without all controversy affirm, and such of the philosophers as had any smack of divinity assented unto, or else from the confused seeds of things. For they that would have one simple beginning, refer it unto God; or if a materiate beginning, they would have it various in power; so that we may end the controversy with this distribution, that the world took beginning, either from Mercury, or from the seeds of all things.

VIRG. ECLOG. 6.

"Namque canebat uti magnum per inane coacta.

Semina, terrarumque, animaaeque marisque fuissent.
Et liquidi simul ignis: Et his exordia primis
Omnia et ipse tener mundi concreverit orbis."

For rich-vein'd Orpheus sweetly did rehearse
How that the seeds of fire, air, water, earth,
Were all pact in the vast void universe:
And how from these, as firstlings, all had birth,
And how the body of this orbic frame,
From tender infancy so big became.

But as touching the third conceit of Pan's original, it seems that the Grecians, either by intercourse with the Egyptians, or one way or other, had heard something of the Hebrew mysteries; for it points to the state of the world, not considered in immediate creation, but after the fall of Adam, exposed and made subject to death and corruption; for in that state it was, and remains to this day, the offspring of God and sin; and therefore all these three narrations concerning the manner of Pan's birth may seem to be true, if it be rightly distinguished between things and times. For this Pan, or Nature, which we inspect, contemplate, and reverence more than is fit, took beginning from the word of God by the means of con fused matter, and the entrance of prevarication and corruption. The Destinies may well be thought the sisters of Pan, or Nature, because the beginnings, and continuances, and corruptions, and depressions, and dissolutions, and eminences, and labours, and felicities of things, and all the chances which can happen unto any thing, are inked with the chain of causes natural.

Horns are attributed unto him, because horns are broad at the root and sharp at the ends, the nature of all these things being like a pyramis, sharp at the top. For individual or singular things being infinite are first collected into species, which are many also; then from species into generals, and from generals, by ascending, are contracted into things or notions more general; so that at length Nature may seem to be contracted into an unity. Neither is it to be wondered at that Pan toucheth heaven with his horns, seeing the height of nature or universal ideas do in some sort pertain to things divine; and there is a ready and short passage from metaphysic to natural theology.

The body of nature is elegantly and with deep judgment depainted hairy, representing the beams or operations of creatures; for beams are, as it were, the hairs and bristles of nature; and every creature is either more or less beamy, which is most apparent in the faculty of seeing, and no less in every virtue and operation that effectuates upon a distant object; for whatsoever works up any thing afar off, that may rightly be said to dart forth rays or beams.

Moreover, Pan's beard is said to be exceeding long, because the beams or influences of celestial bodies do operate and pierce farthest of all; and the sun, when his higher half is shadowed with a cloud, his beams break out in the lower, and looks as if he were bearded.

Nature is also excellently set forth with a biformed body, with respect to the differences between superior and inferior creatures. For one part, by reason of their pulchritude and equability of motion, and constancy and dominion over the earth and earthly things, is worthily set out by the shape of man; and the other part in respect of their perturbations and unconstant motions, and therefore needing to be moderated by the celestial, may he well fitted with the figure of a brute beast. This description of his body pertains also to the participation of species; for no natural being seems to be simple, but as it were participated and compounded of two; as for example, man hath something of a beast, a beast something of a plant, a plant something of inanimate body, of that all natural things are in very deed biformed, that is to say, compounded of a superior and inferior species.

It is a witty allegory that same, of the feet of the goat, by reason of the upward tending motion of terrestial bodies towards the air and heaven; for the goat is a climbing creature, that loves to be hanging about the rocks and steep mountains; and this is done also in a wonderful manner even by those things which are destinated to this inferior globe, as may manifestly appear in clouds and meteors.

The two ensigns which Pan bears in his hands do point, the one at harmony, the other at empire: for the pipe, consisting of seven reeds, doth evidently demonstrate the consent, and harmony, and discordant concord of all inferior creatures, which is caused by the motion of the seven planets: and that of the sheep-hook may be excellently applied to the order of nature, which is partly right, partly crooked: this staff therefore or rod is specially crooked in the upper end, because all the works of divine Providence in the world are done in a far-fetched and circular manner, so that one thing may seem to be effected, and yet indeed a clean contrary brought to pass, as the selling of Joseph into Egypt, and the like. Besides, in all wise human government, they that sit at the helm do more happily bring their purposes about, and insinuate more easily into the minds of the people by pretext and oblique courses than by direct methods: so that all sceptres and masses of authority ought in very deed to be crooked in the upper end.

Pan's cloak or mantle is ingeniously feigned to be a skin of a leopard, because it is full of spots: so the heavens are spotted with stars, the sea with rocks and islands, the land with flowers, and every particular creature also is for the most part garnished with divers colours about the superficies, which is as it were a mantle unto it.

The office of Pan can be by nothing so lively conceived and expressed, as by feigning him to be the god of hunters; for every natural action, and so by consequence motion and progression, is nothing else but a hunting. Arts and sciences have their works, and human counsels their ends, which they earnestly hunt after. All natural things have either their food as a prey, or their pleasure as a recreation which they seek for, and that in a most expert and sagacious manner.

"Torva lenena lupiim sequitur,
Plorentem cytismn, semiitur I
ipus ipse capellam.
sciva capella.

The hungry lioness, with sharp desire,
Pursues the wolf, the wolf the wanton goat:
The goat again doth greedily aspire
To have the trefoil juice pass down her throat.

Pan is also said to be the god of the country-clowns; because men of this condition lead lives more agreeable unto nature than those that live in cities and courts of princes, where nature, by too much art, is corrupted; so as the saying of the poet, though in the sense of love, might be here verified:

"Pars minima est ipsa puella sui."

The maid so trick'd herself with art,
That of herself she is least part.

He was held to be lord president of the mountains; because in the high mountains and hills nature lays herself most open, and men most apt to view and contemplation.

Whereas Pan is said to be, next unto Mercury, the messenger of the gods, there is in that a divine mystery contained; for, next to the word of God, the image of the world proclaims the power and wisdom divine, as sings the sacred poet. Psal. xix. 1: "Ctnli enarrant gloriam Dei atque opera manuum ejus indicat firmamentum." The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth the works of his hands.

The nymphs, that is, the souls of living things, take great delight in Pan: for these souls are the delights or minions of nature; and the direction or conduct of these nymphs is, with great reason, attributed unto Pan, because the souls of all things living do follow their natural dispositions as their guides; and with infinite variety every one of them, after his own fashion, doth leap, and frisk, and dance, with incessant motions about her. The satyrs and Sileni also, to wit, youth and old age, are some of Pan’s followers: for of all natural things, there is a lively, jocund, and, as I may say, a dancing age; and an age again that is dull, bibling, and reeling. The carriages and dispositions of both which ages, to some such as Democritus was, that would observe them duly, might, peradventure, seem as ridiculous and deformed as the gambols of the satyrs, or the gestures of the Sileni.

Of those fears and terrors which Pan is said to be the author, there may be this wise construction made: namely, that nature hath bred in every living thing a kind of care and fear tending to the preservation of its own life and being, and to the repelling and shunning of all things hurtful; and yet nature knows not how to keep a mean, but always intermixes vain and empty fears with such as are discreet and profitable: so that all things, if their insides might be seen, would appear full of panic frights; but men, especially in hard, fearful, and diverse times, are wonderfully infatuated with superstition, which indeed is nothing else but a panic terror.

Concerning the audacity of Pan in challenging Cupid at wrestling: the meaning of it is, that matter wants not inclination and desire to the relapsing and dissolution of the world into the old chaos, if her malice and violence were not restrained and kept in order by the prepotent unity and agreement of things, signified by Cupid or the god of love; and therefore it was a happy turn for men, and all things else, that in that conflict Pan was found too weak and overcome.

To the same effect may be interpreted his catching of Typhon in a net; for howsoever there may sometimes happen vast and unwonted tumours, as the name of Typhon imports, either in the sea, or in the air, or in the earth, or elsewhere; yet nature doth entangle it in an intricate toil, and curb and restrain it as it were with a chain of adamant, the excesses and insolencies of these kind of bodies.

But forasmuch as it was Pan's good fortune to find out Ceres, as he was hunting, and thought little of it, which none of the other gods could do, though they did nothing else but seek her, and that very seriously, it gives us this true and grave admonition, that we expect not to receive things necessary for life and manners from philosophical abstractions, as from the greater gods, albeit they applied themselves to no other study, but from Pan; that is, from the discreet observation and experience, and the universal knowledge of the things of this world; whereby, oftentimes even by chance, and as it were going a hunting, such inventions are lighted upon.

The quarrel he made with Apollo about music, and the event thereof, contains a wholesome instruction, which may serve to restrain men's reasons and judgments with reins of sobriety, from boasting and glorying in their gifts; for there seems to be a twofold harmony or music, the one of divine providence, and the other of human reason. Now to the ears of mortals, that is, to human judgment, the administration of the world and creatures therein, and the more secret judgments of God, sound very hard and harsh; which folly, albeit it be well set out with asses' ears, yet notwithstanding these ears are secret, and do not openly appear; neither is it perceived or noted as a deformity by the vulgar.

Lastly, it is not to be wondered at, that there is nothing attributed unto Pan concerning loves, but only of his marriage with Echo; for the world or nature doth enjoy itself, and in itself all things else. Now he that loves would enjoy something, but where there is enough there is no place left to desire; therefore there can be no wanting love in Pan, or the world, nor desire to obtain any thing, seeing he is contented with himself, but only speeches, which, if plain, may be intimated by the nymph Echo, or, if more quaint, by Syrinx. It is an excellent invention that Pan, or the world, is said to make choice of Echo only, above all other speeches or voices, for his wife; for that alone is true philosophy which doth faithfully render the very words of the world; and it is written no otherwise than the world doth dictate, it being nothing else but the image or reflection of it, not adding any thing of its own, but only iterates and resounds. It belongs also to the sufficiency or perfection of the world, that he begets no issue; for the world doth generate in respect of its parts; but in respect of the whole, how can it generate, seeing without it there is no body? Notwithstanding all this, the tale of that tattling girl faltered upon Pan, may in very deed, with great reason, be added to this fable; for by her are represented those vain and idle paradoxes concerning the nature of things which have been frequent in all ages, and have filled the world with novelties; fruitless, if you respect the matter; changelings, if you respect the kind; sometimes creating pleasure, sometimes tediousness, with their overmuch prattling.

PERSEUS, OR WAR.

Perseus is said to have been employed by Pallas for the destroying of Medusa, who was very infestuous to the western parts of the world, and especially about the utmost coasts of Hiberia; a monster so dire and horrid, that by her only aspect she turned men into stones. This Medusa alone of all the Gorgons was mortal, the rest not subject to death. Perseus, therefore, preparing himself for this noble enterprise, had arms and gifts bestowed on him by three of the gods; Mercury gave him wings annexed to his heels, Pluto a helmet, Pallas a shield and a looking-glass. Notwithstanding, although he were thus furnished, he went not directly to Medusa, but first to the Greæ, which, by the mother's side, were sisters to the Gorgons. These Greæ from their birth were hoarheaded, resembling old women; they had but one only eye and one tooth Till; WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

among them all, both which, she tlr.it h;ul oc casion to go abroad, was wont to take with her, and at her return to lay them down again. This eye and tooth they lent to Perseus; anil so find ing himself thoroughly furnished for the ellectino of his design, hastens towards Medusa. Her he 1 ound sleeping, and yet durst not present himself with his face towards her, lest she should awake; but turning 1 his head aside beheld her in Pallas glass, and, by this means directing his blow, cut off her head; from whose blood gushing out, instantly came Pegasus, the flying-horse. He hea d thus smote off, Perseus bestows on Pallas s shield, which yet retained this virtue, that what soever looked upon it should become as stupid as a stone, or one like planet-strucken. This fable seems to direct the preparation and order that is to be used in making of war; for the more apt and considerate undertaking whereof, three grave and wholesome precepts, savouring of the wisdom of Pallas, are to be observed. First, That men do not much trouble them selves about the conquest of neighbour nations, seeing that private possessions and empires are enlarged by different means ; for in the augmen tation of private revenues, the vicinity of men s territories is to be considered ; but in the propa gation of public dominions, the occasion and facility of making war, and the fruit to be ex pected ought to be instead of vicinity. Certainly the Romans, what time their conquests towards the west scarce reached beyond Liguria, did yet in the east bring all the provinces as far as the mountain Taurus within the compass of their arms and command ; and therefore Perseus, al though he were bred and born in the east, did not yet refuse to undertake an expedition even to the uttermost bounds of the west. Secondly, There must be a care had, that the motives of war be just and honourable ; for that begets an alacrity as well in the soldiers that fight as in the people that pay ; it draws on and procures aids, and brings many other commodities besides. But there is no pretence to take up arms more pious, than the suppressing of tyranny ; under which yoke the people lose their courage, and are cast down without heart and vigour, as in the sight of Medusa. Thirdly, It is wisely added, that seeing there were three Gorgons, by which wars are repre sented, Perseus undertook hor only that was mortal ; that is, he made dioice of such a kind of war as was likely to be effected and brought to a period, not pursuing vast and endless hopes. The furnishing of Perseus with necessaries was that which only advanced his attempt, and drew fortune to be of his side ; for he had speed from Mercury, concealing of his counsels from Orcus, and providence from Pallas. Neither is it without an allegory, and that full of matter too, t rat those wings of celerity were fastened to Perseus heels and not to his ankles, to his feet and not to his shoulders; because speed and celerity are required, not so much in the first preparation! lor war, as in those thinirs which second and yield aid to the first; for there is no error in war more frequent, than that | r- sccutions and subsidiary forces do fail to answer the alacrity of the first onsets. Now for that helmet which Pluto gave him, powerful to make men invisible, the moral is plain; but that twofold gift of Providence, to wit, the shield and looking-glass, is full of mo rality; for that kind of providence, which like a shield avoids the force of blows, is not alone needful, hut that also by which the strength, and motions, and counsels of the enemy are descried, as in the looking-glass of Pallas But Perseus, albeit he were sufficiently fur nished with aid and courage, yet was he to do one thing of special importance before he entered the lists with this monster, and that was to have some intelligence with the Grese. These Grew are treasons, which may be termed the sisters of war; not descended of the same stock, but far unlike in nobility of birth ; for wars are generous and heroical, but treasons are base and ignoble. Their description is elegant, for they are said to be gray-headed, and like old women from their birth, by reason that traitors are continually vexed with cares and trepidations. But all their strength, before they break out into open rebellions, con sists either in an eye or in a tooth ; for every faction alienated from any state, contemplates and bites. Besides, this eye and tooth is as it were common; for whatsoever they can learn and know is delivered and carried from one to another by the hands of faction. And as con cerning the tooth, they do all bite alike, and sing the same song; so that hear one and you hear all. Perseus therefore was to deal with these Greae for the love of their eye and tooth ; their eye to discover, their tooth to sow rumours and stir up envy, and to molest and trouble the minds of men. These things therefore being thus disposed and prepared, he addresses himself to the action of war, and sets upon Medusa as she slept; for a vise captain will ever assault his enemy when he is unprepared and most secure, and then is there good use of Pallas s glass ; for most men, before it come to the push, can acutely pry into and discern their enemies estate; but the best use of this glass is in the very point of danger, that the manner of it may be so considered that the terror may not discourage, which is signified by that looking into this glass with the face turned from Medusa. The monster s head being cut off, there fol low two effects. The first was the procreation and raising of Pegasus, by whien may l>e evi dently understood fame, that, flying through *h world, proclaims victory. The second is tho 294 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. bearing of Medusa s head in his shield; to which there is no kind of defence for excellency com parable : for the one famous and memorable act prosperously effected and brought to pass, doth restrain the motions and insolencies of enemies and makes Envv herself silent and amazed. ENDYMION, OR A FAVOURITE. IT is said that Luna was in love with the shep herd Endymion, and in a strange and unwonted manner bewrayed her affection ; for he lying in a cave framed by nature under the mountain Lat- mus, she oftentimes descended from her sphere to enjoy his company as he slept; and after she had kissed him ascended up again. Yet, not withstanding this, his idleness and sleepy security did not any way impair his estate or fortune ; for Luna brought it so to pass, that he alone, of all the rest of the shepherds, had his flock in best plight, and most fruitful. This fable may have reference to the nature and dispositions of princes ; for they being full of doubts and prone to jealousy, do not easily acquaint men of prying and curious eyes, and as it were of vigilant and wakeful dispositions, with the secret humours and manners of their life ; but such rather as are of quiet and obser vant natures, suffering them to do what they list without further scanning, making as if they were ignorant, and perceiving nothing, but of a stupid disposition, and possessed with sleep, yielding unto them simple obedience rather than sly com pliments ; for it pleaseth princes now and then to descend from their thrones or majesty, like Luna from the superior orb, and laying aside their robes of dignity, which always to be cumbered with would seem a kind of burden, familiarly to con verse with men of this condition, which they think may be done without danger; a quality chiefly noted in Tiberius Caesar, who, of all others, was a prince most severe ; yet such only were gracious in his favour, as being well ac quainted with his disposition, did yet constantly dissemble as if they knew nothing. This was the custom also of Lewis the Eleventh, King of Fiance, a cautious and wfiy prince. Neither is it without elegancy that the cause of Endymion is mentioned in the fable, because that it is a thing usual with such as are the fa vourites of princes, to have certain pleasant retiring places whither to invite them for recreation both of body and mind, and that without hurt or pre judice to their fortunes also. And indeed these kind of favourites are men commonly well to pass; for princes, although peradventure they promote them not ever to places of honour, yet do they advance them sufficiently by their favour and countenance : neither do they affect them thus only to serve their own turn ; but are wont to enrich them now and then with great dignities ind bounties. THE SISTER OF THE GIANTS, OR FAME. IT is a poetical relation, that the giants oegotten of the earth made war upon Jupiter and the o.hor gods ; and by the force of lightning they were resisted and overthrown : whereat the tarth being excitated to wrath, in revenge of her children, brought forth Fame, the youngest sister of the giants. i:trriiiMin (ut perliibent) Caeo Enceladooue sororem, Progemiit" Provoked hy wrathful gods, the mother earth Gives Fame, the giant s youngest sister, birth. The meaning of the fable seems to be thus: By the earth is signified the nature of the vulgar, always swollen and malignant, and still broach ing new scandals against superiors, and having gotten fit opportunity stirs up rebels and seditious persons, that with impious courage do molest princes, and endeavour to subvert their estates ; but being suppressed, the same natural disposi tion of the people still leaning to the viler sort, being impatient of peace and tranquillity, spread rumours, raise malicious slanders, repining whis perings, infamous libels, and others of that kind, to the detraction of them that are in authority; so as rebellious actions and seditious reports differ nothing in kind and blood, but as it were in sex only, the one sort being masculine and the other feminine. ACTION AND PENTHEUS, OR A CU RIOUS MAN. THE curiosity of men in prying into secrets, and coveting v> an undiscreet desire to attain the knowledge of things forbidden, is set forth by the ancients in two other examples, the one of Actaeon, the other of Pentheus. Actaeon having unawares, and as it were by chance, beheld Diana naked, was turned into a stag, and devoured by his own dogs. And Pentheus climbing up into a tree with a desire to be a spectator of the hidden sacrifices of Bacchus, was strucken with such a kind of frenzy, as that whatsoever he looked upon he thought it always double, supposing, among other things, he saw two suns and two Thebes; inso much, that running towards Thebes, spying an other Thebes, instantly turned back again, and so kept still running forward and backward with perpetual unrest. "Eumenidum veluti demens vidit aginina Pentheus, Et solem geminum, et duplices se ostendere Thebas." Pentheus amazed, doth troops of Furies spy; And sun and Thebes seem double to his eye. The first of the fables pertains to the secrets of princes, the second to divine mysteries. For those that are near about princes, and come to the knowledge of more secrets than they would have them, do certainly incur great hatred : and thereTHE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

fore, suspecting: that they are shot at, and oppor- ainities watched for their overthrow, do lead their lives like stags, fearful and full of suspicion. And it happens oftentimes that their servants, and those of their household, to insinuate into the prince s favour, do accuse them to their destruc tion, for against whomsoever the prince s displea sure is known, look how many servants that man hath, and you shall find them for the most part so many traitors unto him, that his end may prove to be like Action s. The other is the misery of Pentheus ; for that by the height of knowledge and nature in philo sophy, having climbed as it were into a tree, do with rash attempts, unmindful of their frailty, pry into the secrets of divine mysteries, and are justly plagued with perpetual inconstancy, and with wavering and perplexed conceits; for see ing the light of nature is one thing and of grace another, it happens so to them as if they saw two suns. And seeing the actions of life and decrees of the will to depend on the understand- iflg, it follows that they doubt, are inconstant no less in wfll than in opinion ; and so in like manner they may be said to see two Thebes ; for by Thebes, seeing there was the habitation and refuge of Pentheus, is meant the end of actions. Hence it comes to pass that they know not whither they go, but as distracted and unre solved in the scope of their intentions, are in all things carried about with sudden passions of the mind. ORPHEUS, OR PHILOSOPHY. THE tale of Orpheus, though common, had never the fortune to be fitly applied in every point. It may seem to represent the image of philoso phy : for the person of Orpheus, a man admirable and divine, and so excellently skilled in all kind of harmony, that with his sweet ravishing music he did, as it were, charm and allure all things to follow him, may carry a singular description of philosophy ; for the labours of Orpheus do so far exceed the labours of Hercules in dignity and efficacy, as the works of wisdom excel the works of fortitude. Orpheus, for the love he bare to his wife, snatch ed, as it were, from him by untimely death, re solved to go down to hell with his harp, to try if he might obtain her of the infernal power. Neither were his hopes frustrated : for having appeased them with the melodious sound of his voice and touch, prevailed at length so far, as that they granted him leave to take her away with him; but on this condition, that she should follow him, and he look not back upon her till he came to the light of the upper world ; which he, impatient of, out ot love and care, and thinking that he was in a manner past all danger, nevertheless violated, in somuch that the covenant is broken, and she forth with tumbles back again headlong into hell. Orpheus falling into a deep melancholy, became a contemner of women-kind, and bequeathed him self to a solitary life in the deserts ; where, by the same melody of his voice and harp, he first drew all manner of wild beasts unto him, who, forgetful of their savage fierceness, and casting off the precipitate provocations of lust and fury, not caring to satiate their voracity by hunting after prey, as at a theatre, in fawning and reconciled amity one towards another, standing all at the gaze about him, and attentively lend their ears to his music. Neither is this all : for so great was the power and alluring force of this harmony, that he drew the woods, and moved the very stones to come and place themselves in an orderly and decent fashion about him. These things succeed ing happily, and with great admiration for a time; at length certain Thracian women, possessed with the spirit of Bacchus, made such a horrid and strange noise with their cornets, that the sound of Orpheus s harp could no more be heard, insomuch as that harmony, which was the bond of that order, and society being dissolved, all -disorder began again, and the beasts returning to their wonted na ture, pursued one another unto death as before; neither did the trees and stones remain any longer in their places; and Orpheus himself was by these female Furies torn in pieces, and scattered all over the desert; for whose cruel death the river Helicon, sacred to the Muses, in horrible indignation hid his head underground, and raised it again in another place. The meaning of this fable seems to be thus . Orpheus s music is of two sorts, the one appeas ing the infernal powers, the other attracting beasts and trees. The first may be fitly applied to natural philosophy, the second to moral or civil discipline. The most noble work of natural philosophy is the restitution and renovation of things corrupt ible : the other, as a lesser degree of it, the pre servation of bodies in their estates, detaining them from dissolution and putrefaction : and if this gift may be in mortals, certainly it can be done by no other means than by the due and ex quisite temper of nature, as by the melody and delicate touch of an instrument ; but seeing it is of all things most difficult, it is seldom or never attained unto; and in all likelihood for no other reason, more than through curious diligence and untimely impatience : and therefore philosophy, hardly able to produce so excellent an effect in a pensive humour, and that without cause, busies herself about human objects, and by persuasion and eloquence insinuating the love of virtue, equity, and concord, in the minds of men, draws multitudes of people to a society, makes them subject to laws, obedient to government, and for getful of their unbridled affections, whilst they give ear to precepts, and submit themselves to 296 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. discipline . whence follows the building of houses, erecting 1 of towns, planting of fields and orchards with trees, and the like; insomuch, that it would not he amiss to say, that even thereby stones and woods were called together and settled in order. And after serious trial made and frustrated about the restoring of a body mortal, this care of civil affairs follows in his due place ; because, by a plain demonstration of the inevitable necessity of death, men s minds are moved to seek eternity by the fame and glory of their merits. It is also wisely said in the fable, that Orpheus was averse from the love of women and marriage, because he delights of wedlock and the love of children do for the most part hinder men from enterprising great and noble designs for the public good, hold ing posterity a sufficient step to immortality, with out actions. Besides, even the very works of wisdom, al though amongst all human things they do most excel, do nevertheless meet with their periods. For it happens that after kingdoms dnd common wealths have flourished for a time, even tumults, and seditions, and wars arise; in the midst of which hurly-burlies first laws are silent; men re turn to the pravity of their natures; fields and towns are wasted and depopulated ; and then, if the* fury continue, learning and philosophy must needs be dismembered, so that a few fragments only in some places will be found, like the scatter ed boards of shipwreck, so as a barbarous age must follow ; and the streams of Helicon being hid under the earth, until the vicissitude of things passing, they break out again and appear in some other remote nation, though not perhaps in the same climate. CGELUM, OR BEGINNINGS. WE have it from the poets by tradition, that Coelum was the ancientest of the gods, and that his members of generation were cut off by his son Saturn. Saturn had many children, but devoured them as soon as they were born ; Jupiter only escaped, who being come to man s estate, thrust Saturn his father into hell, and so usurped the kingdom. Moreover, he pared off his father s genitals with the same falchion that Saturn dis membered Ccelum, and cast them into the sea, whence came Venus. Not long after this, Jupiter, being scarce settled and confirmed in this kingdom, was invaded by two memorable wars ; the first of the Titans, in the suppressing of which Sol, who alone of all the Titans favouring Jupiter s side, took exceeding great pains. The second was of the giants, whom Jupiter himself destroyed with thunderbolts; and so all wars being ended, 1-e reigned secure. This fable seems enigmatically to show from whence all things took their beginning, not much differing from that opinion of philosophers, which Democritus afterwards lanoured to main tain, attributing eternity to the first matter and j not to the world : in which he comes somewhat near the truth of divine writ, telling us of a huge deformed mass, before the beginning of the six days work. The meaning of the fable is this : by Ccelum may be understood that vast concavity or vaulted com pass that comprehends all matter; and by Saturn may be meant the matter itself, which takes from his parent all power of generating; for the uni versality or whole bulk of matter always remains the same, neither increasing or diminishing in re spect of the quality of its nature ; but by the divers agitations and motions of it were first produced imperfect, and ill agreeing compositions of things, making, as it were, certain worlds for proofs or essays, and so in process of time a perfect fabric or structure was framed, which would still retain and keep his form : and therefore the government of the first age was shadowed by the kingdom of Saturn, who for the frequent dissolutions and short continuances of things was aptly, feigned to devour his children. The succeding government was deciphered by the reign of Jupiter, who con fined those continual mutations unto Tartarus, a place signifying perturbation. This place seems to be all that middle place between the lower su perficies of heaven and the centre of the earth, in which all perturbations, and fragility, and mortal ity or corruption are frequent. During the former generation of things in the time of Saturn s reign Venus was not born : for so long as in the uni versality of matter, discord was better and more prevalent than concord, it was necessary that there should be a total dissolution or mutation, and that in the whole fabric ; and by this kind of genera tion were creatures produced before Saturn was deprived of his genitals. When this ceased, that other which was wrought by Venus immediately came in, consisting in settled and prevalent con cord of things, so that mutation should be only in respect of the parts, the universal fabric, remaining whole and inviolate. Saturn, they say, was deposed and cast down nto hell, but not destroyed and utterly extin guished ; because there was an opinion that the world should relapse into the old chaos and in terregnum again, which Lucretius prayed might not happen in his time : " Quod procul & nobis flectat fortuna gubernans ; Et ratio potius quam res persuadeat ipsa." O, guiding providence be gracious That this dooms-day be far removed from us; And grant that by us it may be expected, Rather than on us. in our times effected. For afterwards the world should subsist by its own quantity and power: yet from the beginning

here was no rest ; for in the celestial regions there

irst followed notable mutations, which by the power of the sun, predominating over superior THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

bodies, were so quieted, that the state of the world should be conserved; and afterward, in inferior bodies, by the suppressing and dissipating of in undations, tempests, winds, and general earth quakes, a more peaceful, durable agreement and tranquillity of things followed. But of this fable .t may convertibly be said, that the fable contains philosophy, and philosophy again the fable: for we know by faith, that all these things are no thing else but the long-since ceasing and failing oracles of sense, seeing that both the matter and "abric of the world are most truly referred to a Creator. PROTEUS, OR MATTER. THE poets say that Proteus was Neptune s herdsman; a grave sire, and so excellent a pro phet, that he might well be termed thrice excel lent : for he knew not only things to come, but even things past as well as present: so that be sides his skill in divination, he was the messen ger and interpreter of all antiquities and hidden mysteries. The place of his abode was a huge vast cave, where his custom was every day at noon to count his flock of sea-calves, and then to go to sleep. Moreover, he that desired his advice in any thing could by no other means obtain it, but by catching him in manacles, and holding him fast therewith : who, nevertheless, to be at liberty, would turn himself into all manner of forms and wonders of nature : sometimes into fire, sometimes into water, sometimes into the shape of beasts, and the like, till at length he was restored to his own form again. This fable may seem to unfold the secrets of na ture and the properties of matter. For under the person of Proteus, the first matter, which, next to God, is the ancientest thing, may be represented ; for matter dwells in the concavity of heaven as in a cave. He is Neptune s bond-man, because the opera tions and dispensations of matter are chiefly exer cised in liquid bodies. His flock or herd seems to be nothing but the ordinary species of sensible creatures, plants, and metals, in which matter seems to diffuse, and, as it were, spend itself; so that after the forming and perfecting of these kinds, having ended as it were her task, she seems to sleep and take her rest, not attempting the composition of any more species. And this may be the moral of Proteus counting of his flock, and of his sleeping. Now this is said to be done, not in the morning nor in the evening, but at noon : to wit, at such time as is most fit and convenient for the perfect ing and bringing forth of species out of matter duly prepared and predisposed ; and in the middle, as it were, between their beginnings and declina tions, which we know sufficiently, out of the holy history, to be done about the time of the creation ; VOL. I 33 for then by the power of that divine word, pro- ducat, matter at the Creator s command did con gregate itself, not by ambages or turnings, but instantly, to the production of its work into an act and constitution of species: and thus far have we the narration of Proteus, free and unrestrained, to gether with his flock complete; for the universality of things, with their ordinary structures and com positions of species, bears the face of matter not limited and constrained, and of the flock also of material beings. Nevertheless, if any expert mini ster of nature shall encounter matter by main force, vexing and urging her with intent and purpose to reduce her to nothing, she contrariwise, seeing an nihilation and absolute destruction cannotbe effect ed by the omnipotency of God, being thus caught in the straits of necessity, doth change and turn herself into divers strange forms and shapes of things, so that at length, by fetching a circuit as it were, she comes to a period, and, if the force con tinue, betakes herself to her former being. The reason of which constraint or binding will be more facile and expedite, if matter be laid on by mana cles, that is, by extremities. Now whereas it is feigned that Proteus was a prophet, well skilled in three differences of times, it hath an excellent agreement with the nature of matter : for it is necessary that he that will know the properties and proceedings of matter, should comprehend in his understanding the sum of all things which have been, which are, or shall be, al though no knowledge can extend so far as to sin gular and individual beings. MEMNON, OR A YOUTH TOO FOR WARD. THE poets say that Memnon was the son of Aurora, who, adorned with beautiful armour, and animated with popular applause, came to the Tro jan war: where, in rash boldness, hasting into, and thirsting after glory, he enters into single com bat with Achilles, the valiantest of all the Grecians, by whose powerful hand he was there slain. But Jupiter, pitying his destruction, sent birds to mo dulate certain lamentable and doleful notes at the solemnization of his funeral obsequies. Whose statue also, the sun reflecting on it with his morn ing beams, did usually, as is reported, send forth a mournful sound. This fable may be applied to the unfortunate destinies of hopeful young men, who, like the sons of Aurora, puffed up with the glittering show of vanity and ostentation, attempt actions above their strength, and provoke and press the most valiant heroes to combat with them, so that meet ing with their overmatch, are vanquished and de stroyed, whose untimely death is oft accompanied with much pity and commiseration. For among all the disasters that can happen to mortals there is none so lamentable and so powerful to vnn* 298 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. compassion as the flower of virtue cropped with too sudden a mischance. Neither hath it been iften known that men in their green years become so loathsome arid odious, as that at their deaths either sorrow is stinted or commiseration moderated : but that lamentation and mourning do not only flutter about their obsequies like those funeral birds, but tliis pitiful commiseration doth continue for a long space, and specially by occasions and new mo tions, and beginning of great matters, as it were by the morning rays of the sun, their passions and desires are renewed. TITHONUS, OR SATIETY. IT is elegantly feigned that Tithonus was the paramour of Aurora who, desirous to enjoy his company, petitioned Jupiter that he might never die, but through womanish oversight, forgetting to insert this clause in her petition, that he might not withal grow old and feeble, it followed that he was only freed from the condition of mortality ; but for old age that came upon him in a marvel lous and miserable fashion, agreeable to the state of those who cannot die, yet every day grow weaker and weaker with age. Insomuch that Jupiter, in commiseration of that his misery, did at length metamorphose him into a grasshopper. This fable seems to be an ingenious character or description of pleasure, which in the beginning, and as it were in the morning, seems to be plea sant and delightful, that men desire they might enjoy and monopolize it forever unto themselves, unmindful of that satiety and loathing, which, like old age, will come upon them before they be aware. And so at last, when the use of pleasure leaves men, the desire and affection not yet yielding unto death, it comes to pass that men please themselves only by talking and commemorating those things which brought pleasure unto them in the flower of their age, which may be observed in libidinous persons, and also in men of military professions : the one delighting in beastly talk, the other boast ing of their valorous deeds, like grasshoppers, whose vigour consists only in their voice. JUNO S SUITOR, OR BASENESS. THE poets say, that Jupiter, to enjoy his lustful delights, took upon him the shape of sundry crea tures, as of a bull, of an eagle, of a swan, and of a goldenshower: but being a suitor to Juno, he came in a form most ignoble and base, an object full of contempt and scorn, resembling indeed a miferable cuckoo, weather-beaten with rain and tempest, numbed, quaking, and half dead with coll. This fabie is wise, and seems to be taken out of the bowels of morality ; the sense of it being this, that men boast not too much of themselves, think ing by ostentation of their own worth 10 insinuate themselves into estimation and favour with men. The success of such intentions being for therm/st part measured by the nature and disposition of those to whom men sue for grace: who, if of themselves they be endowed with no gifts and ornaments of nature, but are only of haughty and malignant spirits, intimated by the person of Juno, then are suitors to know that it is good policy to omit all kind of appearance that may any way show their own least praise or worth ; and that they much deceive themselves in taking any other course. Neither is it enough to show deformity in obsequiousness, unless they also appear even abject and base in their very persons. CUPID, OR AN ATOM. THAI which the poets say of Cupid or Love, cannot properly be attributed to one and the self same person, and yet the difference is such that by rejecting the confusion of persons, the similitude may be received. They say that Love is the ancientest of all the gods, and of all things else except chaos, which they hold to be a contemporary with it. Now, as touching chaos, that by the ancients was never dignified with divine honour, or with the title of the god. And as for Love, they absolutely bring him in without a father; only some are of opinion that he came of an egg that was laid by Nox, and that on chaos he begat the god and all things else. There are four things attributed to him, perpetual infancy, blindness, nakedness, and an archery. There was also another Love, which was the youngest of the gods, and he, they say, was th^ son of Venus. On this also they bestow the attributes of the elder Love, as in some sort will apply unto him. This fable tends and looks to the cradle of na ture, Love seeming to be the appetite or desire of the first matter, or, to speak more plain, the na tural motion of the atom, which is that ancient and only power that forms and fashions all things out of matter, of which there is no parent, that is to say, no cause, seeing every cause is a parent to its effect. Of this power or virtue there can be no cause in nature, as for God we always except him, for nothing was before it, and therefore no efficient cause of it. Neither was there any thing better known to nature, and therefore neither genus nor form. Wherefore whatsoever it is, positive it is, and but inexpressible. Moreover, if the manner and proceeding of it were to be conceived, yet could it not be by any cause, seeing that, next unto God, it ts the cause of causes, itself only without any cause. And perchance there is no likelihood that the manner of it may be contained or comprehended within the narrow compass of human search. Not without reason therefoie it is feigned to come of an egg that was laid by Nox. Certainly the divine philosopher grants so much Eccl. iii. 11 : "Cuncta fecit tetnpestaTHE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

tihus suis p ilchra, ct muiidum tradidit dis|>uta- lionibus eoruin, ita tamen ut non invcuiat homo opus, quod operatus est Deus, principle ad finem." That is, he hath made every thing beautiful in their seasons, also he hath set the world in their meditations, yet man cannot find the work that God hath wrought, from the beginning even to the end. For the principal law of nature, or power of this desire, created by God, in these parcels of things, for concurring and meeting to gether, from whose repetitions and multiplications all variety of creatures proceeded and were com posed, may dazzle the eyes of men s understand ings, and comprehended it can hardly be. The Greek philosophers are observed to be very acute and diligent in searching out the material princi ples of things : but in the beginnings of motion, wherein consists all the efficacy of operation, they are negligent and weak, and in this that we handle, they seem to be altogether blind and stam mering : for the opinion of the Peripatetics con cerning the appetite of matter caused by privation, is in a manner nothing else but words, which ra ther sound than signify any reality. And those that refer it unto God do very well, but then they leap up, they ascend not by degrees : for doubtless there is one chief law subordinate to God, in which all natural things concur and meet, the same that in the forecited scripture is demonstrated in these words, "Opus, quod operatus est Deus a principio usque ad finem," the work that God hath wrought from the beginning even to the end. But Democritus, which entered more deeply into the consideration of this point after he had con ceived an atom with some small dimension and form, he attributed unto it one only desire, or first motion simply or absolutely, and another com paratively or in respect : for he thought that all things did properly tend to the centre of the world, whereof those bodies which were more material descend with swifter motion, and those that had less matter did on the contrary tend upward. But this meditation was very shallow, containing less than was expedient : for neither the turning of the celestial bodies in a round, nor shutting and opening of things may seem to be reduced or ap plied to this beginning. And as for that opinion of Epicurus concerning the casual declination and agitation of the atom, it is but a mere toy, and a plain evidence that he was ignorant of that point. It is therefore more apparent than we could wish, that this Cupid, or Love, remains as yet clouded under the shades of night. Now as concerning his attributes: he is elegantly described with perpetual infancy or childhood, because com pound bodies they seem greater and more stricken in years; whereas the first seeds of things or atoms, they are little and diminute, and always in their infancy. He is also well feigned to be naked, because all compound bodies to a man rightly judging, seem to be apparelled and clothed, and nothing properly naked but the first particles of things. Concerning his blindness, the allegory is full of wisdom : for this love, or desire, whatsoever it be, seems to have but little providence, as directing his pace and motion by that which it perceives nearest, not unlike blind men, that go by feeling: more admirable then must that chief divine providence be, which, from things empty and destitute of providence, and as it were blind, by a constant and fatal law produceth so excellent an order and beauty of things. The last thing which is attributed unto Love is archery, by which is meant, that his virtue is such, as that it works upon a distant object: be cause that whatsoever operates afar off, seems to shoot, as it were, an arrow. Wherefore who soever holds the being both of atoms and vacuity, must needs infer, that the virtue of the atom reacheth to a distant object; for if it were not so, there could be no motion at all, by reason of the interposition of vacuity, but all things would stand stone still, and remain immovable. Now as touching that other Cupid, or Love, he may well be termed the youngest of the gods, because he could have no being, before the con stitution of species. And in his description the allegory may be applied and traduced to man ners : nevertheless he holds some kind of con formity with the elder; for Venus doth generally stir up a desire of conjunction and procreation, and Cupid, her son, doth apply this desire to some individual nature ; so that the general dis position comes from Venus, the more exact sym pathy from Cupid : the one derived from causes more near, the other from beginnings more re mote and fatal, and as it were from the elder Cupid, of whom every exquisite sympathy doth depend. DIOMEDES, OR ZEAL. DIOMEDES flourishing with great fame aiid glory in the Trojan wars, and in high favour with Pallas, was by her instigated, being indeed forwarder than he should have been, not to for bear Venus a jot, if he encountered with her in fight, vhich very boldly he performed, wounding her in the right arm. This presumptuous fact he carried clear for a while, and being honoured and renowned for his many heroic deeds, at last re turned into his own country, where finding him self hard bestead with domestic troubles, fled into Italy, betaking himself to the protection of foreigners, where in the beginning he was fortu nate, and royally entertained by King Daunua with sumptuous gifts, raising many statues in honour of him throughout his dominions. Bui upon the very first calamity that happened unto this nation, whereunto he was fled for succoui. King Daunus enters into a conceit with himself 300 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. that he had entertained a wicked guest into his condemned, their very names are hateful, and all family, and a man odious to the goddess, and an their glory ends in obloquy. imp-.nger of their divinity, that had dared, with In that Diomedes is said to be murdered by his sword, to assault and wound that goddess, his host, it gives us to understand that the dif- who, in their religion, they held it sacrilege so ference of religion breeds deceit and treachery, much as to touch. Therefore, that he might ex- even among nearest acquaintance, piate his country s guilt, nothing respecting the Now in that lamentation and mourning was duties of hospitality, when the bonds of religion not tolerated but punished ; it puts us in mind, tied him with a more reverend regard, suddenly that let there be never so nefarious an act done, slew Diomedes, commanding withal that his yet there is some place left for commiseration trophies and statues should be abolished and de- and pity, that even those that hate offences should stroyed. Neither was it safe to lament this yet in humanity commiserate offenders and pity miserable destiny; but even his companions in their distress, it being the extremity of evil when arms, whilst they mourned at the funeral of their mercy is not suffered to have commerce with captain, and filled all the places with plaints and misery. Yea, even in the cause as well of lamentations, were suddenly metamorphosed into religion as impiety, many men may be noted and birds like uiuo swans, who when their death ap- observed to have been compassionate. But on proacheth, sing melodious and mournful hymns, j the contrary the complaints and moans of Dio- This fable hath a most rare and singular sub- medes followers, that .is, of men of the same ject: for in t.ny of the poetical records, wherein ! sect and opinion, are wont to be shrill and loud, the heroes are mentioned, we find not that any j like swans, or the birds of Diomedes. In whom one of them, besides Diomedes, did ever with his sword offer violence to any of the deities.

d indeed, the fable seems in him to represent Ihe nature and fortune of man, who of himself doth propound and make this as the end of his actions, to worship some divine power, or to j memories. follow some sect of religion, though never so vain and superstitious, and with force and arms to defend the same: for although those bloody quarrels for religion were unknown to the ancients, the heathen gods not having so much as a touch also that part of the allegory is excellent, to sig nify, that the last words of those that suffer death for religion, like the songs of dying swans, do wonderfully work upon the minds of men, and strike and remain a long time in their senses and f that jealousy, which is an attribute of the true God, vet the wisdom of the ancient times seems to be so copious and full, as that, what was not known by experience, was yet comprehended by meditations and fictions. They then that en- ileavour to reform and convince any sect of teligion, though vain, corrupt, and infamous, (shadowed by the person of Venus, not by the force of argument and doctrine, and holiness of life, and by the weight of examples and authority, but labour to extirpate and root it out by fire and sword, and tortures, are encouraged, it may be, Ihereunto by Pallas, that is by the acnty of pru dence, and severity of judgment, by whose vigour and rfficacy, they see into the falsity and vanity of these errors. And by this their hatred of pravity, and good zeal to religion, they purchase DAEDALUS, OR MECHANIC. MECHANICAL wisdom and industry, and in it unlawful science perverted to wrong ends, is shadowed by the ancients under the person of Daedalus, a man ingenious, but execrable. This Daedalus, for murdering his fellow servant that emulated him, being banished, was kindly enter tained, during his exile, in many cities and prin ces courts: for indeed he was the raiser and builder of many goodly structures, as well in honour of the gods, as the beauty and magnifi cence of cities, and other public places, but for his works of mischief he is most notorious. It is he that framed the engine which Pasiphae used to satisfy her lust in company with a bull, so that by his wretched industry and pernicious device, that monster Minotaur, the destruction of so many hopeful youths, took his accursed and infamous beginning; and studying to cover and increase one mischief with another, for the security and to themselves great glory, and by the vulgar, to | preservation of this monster he invented and built whom nothing moderate can be grateful, are es- j a labyrinth, a work for intent and use most nefa- teemed and honoured as the only supporters of j rious and wicked, for skill and workmanship, truth and religion, when others seern to b,e luke- j famous and excellent. Afterwards, that he might warm and full of fear. Yet this glory and hap- I not be noted only for works of mischief, but piness doth seldom endure to the end, seeing rvery violent prosperity, if it prevent not altera tion by an untimely death, grows to be vinpros- ingenious device concerning the clue o perous at last : for if it happen that by a change : - L ^ of government this banished and depressed sect H?* strength, and so bear up again, then these zed.uus men, so fierce in opposition before, are sought after as well for remedies, as for instru ments of destruction, he was the author of that )f thread. by which the labyrinth was made passable with out any let. This Daedalus was persecuted by Minos with great severity, diligence, and inquiry, but he always found the means lo avoid and T!1H WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

osrape his tyranny. Lastly, he taught his son Icarus to fly, but the novice, in ostentation of this art, soaring too high, fell into the sea, and was drowned. The parable seems to be thus: in the begin ning of it may be noted that kind of envy or emulation that lodgeth, and wonderfully sways and domineers amongst excellent artificers, there being no kind of people more reciprocally tor mented with bitter and deadly hatred than they. The banishment also of Daedalus, a punish ment inflicted on him against the rules of policy and providence, is worth the noting: for artificers have this prerogative to find entertainment and welcome in all countries, so that exile to an ex cellent workman can hardly be termed a punish ment, whereas other conditions, and states of life can scarce live out of their own country. The admiration of artificers is propagated and in creased in foreign and strange nations, seeing it is a natural and inbred disposition of men to value their own countrymen, in respect of me chanical works, less than strangers. Concerning the use of mechanical arts, that which follows is plain. The life of man is much beholden to them, seeing many things, conducing to the ornament of religion, to the grace of civil discipline, and to the beautifying of all human kind, extracted out of their treasuries : and yet not withstanding, from the same magazine or store house are produced instruments both of lust and death ; for to omit the" wiles of bands, we well know how far exquisite poisons, warlike engines, and such like mischiefs, the effects of mechanical inventions, do exceed the Minotaur himself in malignity and savage cruelty. Moreover that of the labyrinth is an excellent allegory, whereby is shadowed the nature of me chanical sciences, for all such handicraft works as are more ingenious and accurate may be com pared to a labyrinth, in respect of subtilty and divers intricate passages, and in other plain resem blances, which hy the eye of judgment can hardly be guided and discerned, but only by the line of experience. Neither is it impertinently added, that he which invented the intricate nooks of the labyrinth, did also show the commodity of the clue: for me chanical arts are of ambiguous use, serving as well for hurt as for remedy, and they have in a manner power both to loose and bind themselves. | being destroyed by that will always abide in our city, though always forbidden. And yet notwithstanding unlawful and curious arts of what kind soever, in trad of time, when they cannot perform what they pro mise, do fall from the good opinion that was held of them, no otherwise than Icarus fell down from the skies, they grow to be contemned and scorned, and so perish by too much ostentation. And to say the truth, they are not so happily restrained by the reins of law as bewrayed by their own vanity. ERIOTHONIUS, OR IMPOSTURE. THE poets fable that Vulcan solicited Minerva for her virginity, and impatient of denial, with an inflamed desire, offered her violence, hut iu &trug- gling his seed fell upon the ground, whereof came Ericthonius, whose body from the middle upward was of a comely and apt proportion, but his thighs and legs like the tail of an eel, small and deformed. To which monstrosity, he being conscious, became the first inventor of the use of chariots, whereby that part of his body which was well proportioned might be seen, and the other which was ugly and uncomely might be hid. This strange and prodigious fiction may seem to show that art, which, for the great use it hath of fire, is shadowed by Vulcan, although it labour by much striving with corporeal substances to force nature, and to make her subject to it, she being for her industrious works rightly represented by Mi nerva, yet seldom or never attains the end it aims at, but with much ado and great pains, wrestling as it were with her, comes short of its purpose, and produceth certain imperfect births, and lame works, fair to the eye but weak and defective in use, which many impostors, with much subtilty and deceit, set to view, and carry about, as it were in triumph, as may for the most part be noted in chemical productions, and other mechanical sub- tilties and novelties, especially when, rather prose cuting their intent than reclining their errors, they rather strive to overcome nature by force ; than sue for her embracements by due obsequiousness and observance. DEUCALION, OR RESTITUTION. THE poets say that the people of the old world =ral deluge, Deucalion Unlawful trades, and so by consequence arts and Pyrrha were only left alive; who prayinji themselves, are often persecuted by Minos, that is with fervent and zealous devotion, that they by laws, which do condemn them, and prohibit , might know by what means to repair mankind, men to use them. Nevertheless they are hid and j had answer from an oracle that they should obtain retained everywhere, finding lurking holes and what they desired, if taking the bones of their mo- places of receipt, which was wellobserved by Ta- ther they cast them behind their backs; which at citus of the mathematicians and figure-flingers of j first struck them with great amazement and de- his time, in a thing not so much unlike ; " Genus I spair, seeing, all things being defaced bv ihe flood, hominuin quod in eivitate nnstra semper et re- it would he an endless work to find theirmotber* tinebitur et vetabitur." There is a kind of men sepulchre, but at length they understood thai by ac THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. bones, the stones of the earth, seeing the earth was the mother of all things, were signified by the oracle. This fable seems to reveal a secret of nature, and to correct an error familiar to men s conceits ; for through want of knowledge men think that things may take renovation and restoration from theirputrefaction and dregs, no otherwise than the phoenix from the ashes, which in no case can be admitted, seeing such kind of materials, when they have fulfilled their periods, are unapt for the be ginnings of such things : we must therefore look back to more common principles. NEMESIS, OR THE VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. NEMESIS is said to be a goddess venerable unto all, but to be feared of none but potentates and For tune s favourites. She is thought to be the daughter of Oceamis and Nox. She is portrayed with wings on her shoulders, and on her head a coronet, bear ing in her right hand a javelin of ash, and in her left a pitcher, with the similitudes of ^Ethiopians engraven on it : and lastly, she is described sitting on a hart. The parable may be thus unfolded. Her name Nemesis, doth plainly signify revenge or retribu tion, her office and administration being, like a tribune of the people, to hinder the constant and perpetual felicity of happy men, and to interpose her word, "veto," I forbid the continuance of it; that is not only to chastise insolency, but to inter mix prosperity, though harmless, and in a mean, with the vicissitudes of adversity, as if it were a custom, that no mortal man should be admitted to the table of the gods but for sport. Truly when I read that chapter, wherein CaiusPlinius hath col lected his misfortunes and miseries of Augustus Caesar, whom of all men I thought the most happy, who had also a kind of art to use and enjoy his fortune, and in whose mind might be noted neither pride, nor lightness, nor niceness, nor disorder, nor melancholy, as that he had ap pointed a time to die of his own accord, I then deemed this goddess to be great and powerful, to whose altar so worthy a sacrifice as this was drawn. The parents of this goddess were Oceanus and Nox, that is, the vicissitude of things, and divine iudgment obscure and secret : for the alteration o things are aptly represented by the sea, in respec of the continual ebbing and flowing of it, and hid uen providence is well set forth by the night : fo even the nocturnal Nemesis, seeing human judg ment differs much from divine, was seriously ob served by the heathen Virgil, .flEneid, lib. 2. Cadit et Ripheiis justissimus unus, qui. That day, hy Greekish forcf , was Ripheus slain, So just and strict observer of the law, As Troy, within her walls, did not contain A better man : Yet God then good it saw. She is described with wings, because the changes of things are so sudden, as that they are seen, before foreseen; for in the records of ail ages, we find it for the most part true, that great potentates and wise men have perished by those misfortunes which they most contemned; as may be observed in Marcus Cicero, who being admo nished by Decius Brutus of Octavius Caesar s hy pocritical friendship and hollow-heartedness to wards him, returns this answer, " Te autem, mi Brute, sicut debeo, amo, quod istud quicquid est nugarum me scire voluisti." I must ever acknow ledge myself, dear Brutus, beholden to thee, in ove, for that thou hast been so careful to acquaint ne with that which I esteem as a needless trifle o be doubted. Nemesis is also adorned with a coronet, to show he envious and malignant disposition of the vul gar, for when fortune s favourites and great poten- ates come to ruin, then do the common people re- oice, setting, as it were, a crown upon the head of evenge. The javelin in her right hand points at those whom she actually strikes and pierceth thorough. And before those whom she destroys not in their calamity and misfortune, she ever presents that black and dismal spectacle in her left hand ; for questionless to men sitting as it were upon the pinnacle of prosperity, the thoughts of death, and painfulness of sickness and misfortunes, peifidiousness of friends, treachery of foes, change of estate, and such like, seem as ugly to the eye of their meditations as those Ethiopians pictured in Nemesis s pitcher. Virgil, in describ ing the battle of Actium, speaks thus elegantly of Cleopatra. " Regina in mediis patrio vocat agmina sistro Nee dum etiam geminos ii tergo respicit angues." The queen amidst this hurly-burly stands, And with her country timbre! calls her bands ; Not spying yet, where crawled behind her back, Two deadly snakes with venom speckled black. But not long after, which way soever she turned, troops of Ethiopians were still before her eyes. Lastly, it is wisely added that Nemesis rides upon a hart, because a hart is a most lively crea ture. And albeit, it may be, that such as are cut off by death in their youth prevent and shun the power of Nemesis; yet doubtless such, whose prosperity and power continue long, are made sub- jectunto her, and lie, as it were, trodden under her feet. ACHELOUS, OR BATTLE. IT is a fable of antiquity, that when Hercules and Achelous as rivals contended for the marriage THE SI) )M OF TI1H ANf IKNTS. (1.1 of Dejanira, the matter drew them t.o r..Mil.at. w!u Triii Achelous took upon liim many divers shapes, for so was it in his power to do, and

imniii_ist others, transforming himself into the

likeness of a furious wild hull, assaults Hercules and provokes him to fight. Hut, Hercules, for all this, sticking to his old human form, courageously encounters him, and so the combat goes roundly on. But this was the event, that Hercules tore away one of the bull s horns, wherewith he being mightily daunted and grieved, K> ransom his horn again was contented to give Hercules, in exchange thereof, the Amalthean horn, or cornucopia. This fable hath relation unto the expeditions of war, for the preparations thereof on the de fensive part, which, expressed in the person of Achelous, are very diverse and uncertain. But the invading party is most commonly of one sort, and that very single, consisting of an army by land, or perhaps of a navy by sea. But for a king that in his own territory expects an enemy, his occasions are infinite. He fortifies towns, he as sembles men out of the countries and villages, he raiseth citadels, he builds and breaks down bridges, he disposeth garrisons, and placeth troops of soldiers on passage of rivers ; on ports, on mountains, and ambushes in woods, and is busied with a multitude of other directions, insomuch that ever) day he prescribeth new forms and orders ; and then at last having accommodated all things complete for defence, he then rightly represents the form and manner of a fierce fighting bull. On the other side, the invader s greatest care is, the fear to be distressed for victuals in an enemy s country ; and therefore affects chiefly to hasten on battle : for if it should happen, that after a field fight, he prove the victor, and as it were break the horn of the enemy, then certainly this follows, that his enemy being stricken with terror, and abased in his reputation, presently bewrays his weakness, and seeking to repair his loss, retires himself to some stronghold, abandoning to the conqueror the spoil and sack of his country and cities ; which may well be termed a type of the Amalthean horn. DIONYSUS, OR PASSIONS. THEY say that Semele. Jupiter s sweetheart, having bound her paramour by an irrevocable oath to grant her one request which she would require, desired that he would accompany her in the same form wherein he accompanied Juno : which he granting, as not able to deny, it came ro pass that the miserable wench was burnt with lightning. But the infant which she bare in her womb, Jupiter the father took out, and Kept it in a gash which he cut in his thigh till the months were complete that it should be born. This burden made Jupiter somewhat to limp, thereupon the child, because it was heavy and was called Dionysus. Being born, was com- mittcil in 1 rosrrpina lor some years to lie nursed, and being grown up, it had such a maiden-face as* that a man could hardly judge whether it were bov or girl. He was dead also, and buried for a time, but afterwards revived : being but a youth, he invented and taught the planting and dressing of vines, the making also and use of wine ; for which, becoming famous and renowned, he sub jugated the world even to the uttermost bounds of India. He rode in a chariot drawn by tigers. There danced about him certain deformed hob goblins called Cobali, Acratus, and others, yea, even the muses also were some of his followers, He took to wife Ariadne, forsaken and ieft by Theseus;. The tree sacred unto him was the ivy He was held the inventor and institutor of sacri fices and ceremonies, and full of corruption and cruelty. He had power to strike men with fury or madness ; for it is reported, that at the cele bration of his orgies, two famous worthies, Pen- theus and Orpheus, were torn in pieces by cer tain frantic women, the one because he got upon a tree to behold their ceremonies in these sacrifices, the other for making melody with his harp ; and for his gods, they are in a manner the same with Jupiter s. There is such excellent morality couched in this fable, as that moral philosophy affords not better ; for under the person of Bacchus is described the nature of affection, passion, or perturbation, the mother of which, though never so hurtful, is nothing else but the object of apparent good in the eyes of appetite : and it is always conceived in an unlawful desire, rashly propounded and ob tained, before well understood and considered ; and when it begins to grow, the mother of it, which is the desire of apparent good by too much fervency, is destroyed and perisheth : ne vertheless, whilst yet it is an imperfect embryo, it is nourished and preserved in the human soul, which is as it were a father unto it, and represented by Jupiter; but especially in the inferior part thereof, as in a thigh, where also it causeth so much trouble and vexation, as that good determi nations and actions are much hindered and lamed thereby : and when it comes to be confirmed by consent and habit, and breaks out as it were into act, it remains yet a while with Proserpina as with a nurse; that is, it seeks corners and se cret places, and as it were, caves under ground, until the reins of shame and fear being laid aside in a pampered audaciousness, it either takes tho pretext of some virtue, or becomes altogether impu dent and shameless. And it is most true, that every vehement passion is of a doubtful sex, as being masculine in the first motion, but feminine in prose cution. It is an excellent fiction that of Bacchus s reviv- ng; for passion? do sometimes seem to lie in a troublesome to its father while it lay in his thigh. ! dead sleep, and as it were, utterly extinct; but 304 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. we should not think them to be so indeed ; no, though they lay as it were in their grave : for let there be but matter and opportunity offered, and you shall see them quickly to revive again. The invention of wine is wittily ascribed unto him ; every affection being ingenious and skilful in finding out that which brings nourishment unto it; and indeed, of all things known to men, wine is most powerful and efficacious to excite and kindle passions of what kind soever, as being in a manner common nurse to them all. Again, his conquering of nations and under taking infinite expeditions is an elegant device ; for desire never rests content with what it hath, but with an infinite and unsatiable appetite still covets and gapes after more. His chariot also is well said to be drawn by tigers ; for as soon as any affection shall, from going afoot, be advanced to ride in a chariot, and shall captivate reason, and lead her in a triumph, it grows cruel, untamed, and fierce against what soever withstands or opposeth it. Tt is worth the noting also, that those ridiculous hobgoblins are brought in dancing about his cha riot ; for every passion doth cause, in the eyes, face, and gesture, certain indecentand ill-seeming, apish and deformed motions ; so that they who in any kind of passion, as in anger, arrogancy, or love seem glorious and brave in their own eyes, do yet appear to others misshapen and ridiculous. In that the muses are said to be of his company, it shows that there is no affection almost, which is not soothed by some art wherein the indulgence of wits doth derogate from the glory of the muses, who, when they ought to be the mistresses of life, are made the waiting-maids of affections. Again, when Bacchus is said to have loved Ariadne that was rejected by Theseus ; it is an allegory of special observation ; for it is most, cer tain, that passions always covet and desire that which experience forsakes ; and they all know, who have paid dear for serving and obeying their lusts, that whether it be ho nour, or riches, or de light, or glory, or knowledge, or any thing else which they seek after, yet are they but things cast off, and by divers men in all ages, after experience had, utterly rejected and loathed. Neither is it without a mystery, that the ivy was sacred to Bacchus ; for the application holds first, in that the ivy remains green in winter; secondly, in that it sticks to, embraceth, and over- toppeth so many divers bodies, as trees, walls, and edifices. Touching the first, every passion cloth by resistance and reluctation, and as it were by an antiperistasis, like the ivy of the cold winter, grow fresh and lusty : and as for the other, every predominate afff^tion doth again, like the ivy, embrace and limit all human actions and deter minations, adhering and cleaving fast unto them. Neither is it a wonder that superstitious rites and ceremonies were attributed unto Bacchus, seeing every giddy-headed humour keeps in a manner revel-rout in false religions; or that the cause of madness should be ascribed unto him, seeing every affection is by nature a short fury, which, if it grow vehement and become habitual, concludes mad ness. Concerning the rending and dismembering of Pentheus and Orpheus, the parable is plain, f<.r every prevalent affection is outrageous and severe, and against curious inquiry and wholesome and free admonition. Lastly, that confusion of Jupiter and Bacchus s persons may be well transferred to a parable, seeing noble and famous acts, and remarkable and glorious merits do sometimes proceed from virtue and well ordered reason and magnanimity, and sometimes from a secret affection and hidden pas sion, which are so dignified with the celebrity of fame and glory, that a man can hardly distinguish between the acts of Bacchus and the gests of Jupiter. ATALANTA, OR GAIN. ATALANTA, who was reputed to excel in swiftness, wculd needs challenge Hippomenes at a match in running. The conditions of the prize were these : that if Hippomenes won the race, he should espouse Atalanta; if he were outrun, that then he should forfeit his life. And in the opinion of all, the victory was thought assured of Atalanta s side, being famous as she was for her matchless and inconquerable speed, whereby she had been the bane of many. Hippomenes therefore bethinks him how to deceive her by a trick, and in that regard provides three golden apples or halls, which he purposely carried about him. The race is begun, and Atalanta gets a good start before him. He seeing himself thus cast behind, being mindful of his device, throws one of his golden balls before her, and yet not outright, but somewhat of the one side, both to make her linger and also to draw her out of the right course : she out of a womanish desire, being thus enticed with the beauty of the golden apple, leaving her direct race, runs aside and stoops to catch the ball. Hippomenes the while holds on his course, getting thereby a great start, and leaves her behind him : but she, by her own natural swiftness, recovers her lost time and gets before him again. But Hippomenes still continues his sleight, and both the second and third times casts out his balls, those enticing de lays; and so by craft, and not by his activity, wins the race and victory. This fable seems allegorically to demonstrate a notable conflict betwen art and nature; for art, signified by Atalanta, in its work if it be not letted and hindered, is far more swift than nature, more speedy in pace, and sooner attains the end it aims at, which is manifest almost in every effect; as you may see in fruit trees, whereof those that grow of a kernel are long ere they bear, but such Tin; WISDOM OF Tin; VH;.TS.

.is are grafted on a stock a great deal sooner. You may sec it in day, whieh in the generation of stones, is long ore it become hard, but in the burning of bricks is very quickly effected. Also in moral passages you may ol)serve that it is a long time ere, by the benefit of nature, sorrow can be assuaged, and comfort attained ; whereas philoso phy, which is, as it were, art of living, tarries not the leisure of time, but doth it instantly and out cf hand ; and yet this prerogative and singular agility of art is hindered by certain golden apples, to the infinite prejudice of human proceedings : for there is not any one art or science which constantly perseveres in a true and lawful course, till it come to the proposed end or mark, but ever and anon makes stops after good beginnings, leaves the race, and turns aside to profit and commodity, like Atalanta. " Ueclinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit." Who doth her course forsake, The rolling gold doth tuke. And therefore it is no wonder that art hath not the power to conquer nature ; and by pact or law of conquest to kill and destroy her; but on the con trary, it falls out that art becomes subject to na ture, and yields the obedience as of a wife to her husband. PROMETHEUS, OR THE STATE OF MAN. THE ancients deliver that Prometheus made a man of clay, mixed with certain parcels taken from divers animals, who, studying to maintain this his work by art, that he might not be ac counted a founder only but a propagator of human kind, stole up to-heaven with a bundle of twigs, which he kindled at the chariot of the sun, came down again, and communicated it with men ; and yet they say that notwithstanding this excellent work of his, he was requited with ingratitude in a treacherous conspiracy; for they accused both him and his invention to Jupiter, which was not so taken as was meet it should, for the information was pleasing to Jupiter and all the gods: and therefore in a merry mood granted unto men, not only the use of fire but perpetual youth also, a boon most acceptable and desirable. They, being as it were overjoyed, did foolishly lay this gift of the gods upon the back of an ass, who, being wonderfully oppressed with thirst and near a foun tain, was told by a serpent which had the custody thereof, that he should not drink unless he would promise to give him the burden that was on his back. The silly ass accepted the condition, and so the restoration of youth, sold for a draught of water, passed from men to serpents. But Prome theus, full of malice, being reconciled unto men, after they wore frustrated of their gift, but in a chafe yet with Jupiter, feared not to use deceit in VOL. I. 39 sacrifice; for having killed tuo hulls, and in one of their hides wrapt up the lloh anil hit i.f tin-in both, and in the ntluT only the hones, vith a at show of religious devotion gave Jupiu r his choice, who, detesting his fraud and h |i<.rn>y, but taking an occasion of revenge, chose that which was stopped with bones, and so turning to revenge, when he saw that the insolency of Pro metheus would not be repressed but by laying some grievous affliction upon mankind, in the forming of which he so much bragged and boast ed, commanded Vulcan to frame a goodly beauti ful woman, which being done, every one of the gods bestowed a gift on her; whereupon she was called Pandora. To this woman they gave in her hand a goodly box full of all miseries and calami ties, only in the bottom of it they put Hope ; with this box she conies first to Prometheus, thinking to catch him, if peradventurc he should accept it at her hands, and so open it; which he, neverthe less, with good providence and foresight refused : whereupon she goes to Epimetheus, who, though brother to Prometheus, yet was of a much differing disposition, and offers this box unto him, who without delay took it, and rashly opened it ; but when he saw that all kind of miseries came flut tering about his ears, being wise too late, with great speed and earnest endeavour clapped on the cover, and so with much ado retained Hope sitting alone in the bottom; at last Jupiter laying many and grievous crimes to Prometheus s charge, as that he had stolen fire from heaven, that in con tempt of his majesty he sacrificed a bull s hide stuffed with bones, that he scornfully rejected his gift, and besides all this, that he offered violence to Pallas, cast him into chains, and doomed him to perpetual torment; and by Jupiter s command was brought to the mountain Caucasus, and there bound fast to a pillar that he could not stir; there came an eagle also, that every day sat tiring upon his liver and wasted it; but as much as was eaten in the day grew again in the night, that matter for torment to work upon might never decay. But yet they say there was an end of this punishment: for Hercules crossing the ocean in a cup, which the sun gave him, came to Caucasus, and set. Prome theus at liberty by shooting the eagle with an arrow. Moreover, in some nations there were instituted in the honour of Prometheus, certain games of lamp- bearers, in which they that strived for the prize were wont to carry torches lighted, which whoso suffered to go out, yielded the place and victory to those that followed, and so cast back themselves, so that whosoever came first to the mark with his torch burning got the prize. This fable demonstrates and presseth many true and grave speculations, wherein some things have been heretofore well noted, others not so much us touched. Prometheus doth clearly and elegantly signify Providence : for in the universality of nature, th< 2c2 306 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. fabric and constitution of man only was by the which infinite ways affords aid and assistance tj ancients picked out and chosen, and attributed unto Providence as a peculiar work. The reason of it seems to be, not only in that the nature of man is capable of a mind and understanding, which is the seat of providence, and therefore it would seem strange and incredible, that the reason and mind should so proceed and flow from dumb and deaf principals as that it should necessarily be con cluded, the soul of man to be endued with provi dence, not without the example, intention, and stamp of a greater providence. But this also is chiefly propounded, that man is as it were the centre of the world in respect of final causes; so that if man were not in nature, all things would seem to stray and wander without purpose, and like scattered branches, as they say, without inclination to their end ; for all things attend on man ; and ho makes use of, and gathers fruit from all creatures ; for the revolutions and periods of stars make both for the distinctions of times and the distribution of the world s light. Meteors also are referred to presages of tempests ; and winds are ordained as well for navigation as for turning of mills and other engines ; and plants, and animals of what kind soever, are useful either for men s houses and places of shelter, or for raiment, or for food, or medicine, or for ease of labour, or in a word for delight and solace; so that all things seem to work, not for themselves but for man. Neither is it added without consideration that certain particles were taken from divers living crea tures, and mixed and tempered with that clayic mass, because it is most true, that of all things comprehended within the compass of the universe, man is a thing most mixed and compounded, insomuch, that he was well termed by the ancients a little world ; for although the chymists do, with too much curiosity, take and wrest the elegancy of this word Microcosm to the letter, contending to find in man all minerals, all vegetables, and the rest, or any thing that holds proportion with them ; yet this proposition remains sound and whole, that the body of man, of all material beings, is found to be most compounded and most organical, whereby it is endued and furnished with most admirable vir tues and faculties : and as for simple bodies, their powers are not many, though certain and violent, as existing without being weakened, diminished, or stinted, by mixture; for the multiplicity and excellency of operation have their residence in mixture and composition, and yet, nevertheless, man in his originals seems to be a thing unarmed and naked, and unable to help itself, as needing the aid of many things; therefore Prometheus made haste to find out fire, which suppeditates and yields comfort and help in a manner to all human wants and necessities ; so that if the soul be the form of forms, and if the hand be the in strument of instruments, fire deserves well to be called the succour of succours, or the help of helps, all labours and mechanical arts, and to the sci ences themselves. The manner of stealing this fire is aptly described even from the nature of things : it was, they say, by a bundle of twigs held to touch the chariot of the sun; for twigs are used in giving blows or stripes, to signify clearly that fire is engendered by the violent percussion and mutual collision of bodies, by which their material substances are attenuated and set in motion, and prepared to re ceive the heat of influence of the heavenly bodies ; and so in a clandestine manner, and as it were by stealth, may be said to take and snatch fire from the chariot of the sun. There follows next a remarkable part of the pa rable, that men, instead of gratulation and thanks giving, were angry, and expostulated the matter with Prometheus, insomuch that they accused both him and his invention unto Jupiter, which was so acceptable unto him, that he augmented their for mer commodities with a new bounty. Seems it not strange that ingratitude towards the author of a benefit, a vice that in a manner contains all other vices, should find such approbation and re ward 1 No, it seems to be otherwise; for the meaning of the allegory is this, that men s outcries upon the defects of nature and art, proceed from an excellent disposition of the mind, and turn to their good ; whereas the silencing of them is hate ful to the gods, and redounds not so much to their profit; for they that infinitely extol human nature, or the knowledge they possess, breaking out into a prodigal admiration of that they have and enjoy, adoring also those sciences they profess, would have them be accounted perfect ; they do first of all show little reverence to the divine nature, by equalizing, in a manner, their own defects with God s perfection. Again ; they are wonderful injurious to men, by imagining they have attained the highest step of knowledge, resting themselves contented, seek no further. On the contrary, such as bring nature and art to the bar with ac cusations and bills of complaint against them, are indeed of more true and moderate judgments; for they are ever in action, seeking always to find out new inventions. Which makes me much to won der at the foolish and inconsiderate dispositions of some men, who, making themselves bond slaves to the arrogancy of a few, have the phi losophy of the Peripatetics, containing only a portion of Grecian wisdom, and that but a small one neither, in so great esteem, that they hold it not only an unprofitable, but a suspicious arid almost heinous thing, to lay any imputation of imperfection upon it. I approve rather of Em- pedocles s opinion, who, like a madman, and of Democritus s judgment, who with great mode ration, complained how that all things were in volved in a mist, that we knew nothing, that we discerned nothing, that truth was drowned in tho THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

depths of ooscurity, and that false things were wonderfully joined and intermixed with true, as for the new academy, that exceeded all measure, than of the confident and pronunciative school of Aris totle. Let men therefore he admonished, that by ac- knowledging the imperfection of nature and art, they are grateful to the gods, and shall thereby ob tain new benefits and greater favours at their boun tiful hands ; and the accusation of Prometheus, their author and master, though bitter and vehement, will conduce more to their profit, than to be effuse in the congratulation of his invention; for, in a word, the opinion of having enough, is to be accounted one of the greatest causes of having too little. Now, as touching the kind of gift which men are said to have received in reward of their ac cusation, to wit, an ever-fading flower of youth, it is to show, that the ancients seemed not to de spair of attaining the skill, by means and medi cines, to put off old, age, and to prolong life, but this to be numbered rather among such things, having been once happily attained unto, are now, through men s negligence and carelessness, utter ly perished and lost, than among such as have been always denied and never granted ; for they signify and show, that by affording the true use of fire, and by a good and stern accusation and conviction of the errors of art, the divine bounty is not wanting unto men in the obtaining of such gifts ; but men are wanting to themselves in lay ing this gift of the gods upon the back of a silly slow-paced ass, which may seem to be experience, a stupid thing, and full of delay; from whose leisurely and snail-like pace proceeds that com plaint of life s brevity, and art s length ; and to say the truth, I am of this opinion, that those two faculties, dogmatical and empirical, are not as yet well joined and coupled together, but as new gifts of the gods imposed either upon philosophical abstractions, as upon a flying bird, or upon slow and dull experience, as upon an ass. And yet me- thinks I would not entertain an ill conceit of this ass, if it meet not for the accidents of travel and thirst : for I am persuaded, that whoso constantly goes on, by the conduct of experience, as by a certain rule and method, and not covets to meet with such experiments by the way, as conduce either to gain or ostentation, to obtain which, ke must be fain to lay down and sell this burden, may prove no unfit porter to bear this new addition of divine munificence. Now, in that this gift is said to pass from men to serpents, it may seem to be added to the fable for ornament sake, in a manner, unless it were inserted to shame men, that having the use of that celestial fire and of so many arts, are not able to get unto themselves such things as nature itself bestows upon many other creatures. But that sudden reconciliation of men to Prome theus, after they were frustrated of their hopes, contains a profitable and wise note, showing the I levity and temerity of men in new experiments : for if they have not present success answerable to their expectation, with too sudden haste desist from that they began, and with precipitancy re turning to their former experiments, are reconciled to them again. The state of man, in respect of arts, and such things as concern the intellect, being now de scribed, the parable passeth to religion : for, after the planting of arts, follows the setting of divine principles, which hypocrisy hath overspread and polluted. By that twofold sacrifice therefore is elegantly shadowed out the persons of a true re ligious man and a hypocrite. In the one is con tained fatness, which by reason of the inflammation and fumes thereof, is called the portion of God, by which his affection and zeal, tending to God s glory, and ascending, towards heaven, is signi fied. In him also are contained the bowels of charity, and in him is found that good and whole some flesh ; whereas in the other there is nothing but dry and naked bones, which nevertheless do stuff up the hide, and make it appear like a fair and goodly sacrifice : by this may be well meant those external and vain rites, and empty cere monies, by which men do oppress and fill up the sincere worship of God ; things composed rather for ostentation than any way conducing to true piety. Neither do they hold it sufficient to offer such mock-sacrifices unto God ; except they also lay them before him, as if he had chosen and be spoke them. Certainly the prophet, in the per son of God, doth thus expostulate concerning this choice : Esa. Iviii. 5, " Num tandem hoc est illud jejunium, quod ELEGI, ut homo animam suam in diem unum affiigat, et caput instar jun- ceti demittat 1 ?" Is it such a fast that I have chosen, that a man should afflict his soul for a day, and to bow down his head like a bulrush ? Having now touched the state of religion, the parable converts itself to the manners and con ditions of human life : and it is a common but apt interpretation by Pandora, to be meant plea sure and voluptuousness, which, when the civil life is pampered with too much art, and culture, and superfluity, is engendered, as it were, by the efficacy of fire, and therefore the work of volup tuousness is attributed unto Vulcan, who also himself doth represent fire. From this do infinite miseries, together with too late repentance, proceed and overflow the minds, and bodies, and fortunes of men; and that not only in respect of particular estates, but even over kingdoms and common wealths : for from this fountain have wars, tu mults, and tyrannies derived their original. But it would be worth the labour to consider how elegantly and proportionably this fable doth delineate two conditions, or, as I may say, two tables or examples of human life, under the person of Prometheus or Epimetheus : for they that are of Epimetheus s sect are improvident, noi ton>305 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. seeing what may come to pass hereafter, esteem ing that best which seems most sweet for the present ; whence it happens that they are over taken with many miseries, difficulties, and cala mities, and so lead their lives almost in perpetual affliction; but yet, notwithstanding, they please their fancy, and out of ignorance of the passages of things, do entertain many vain hopes in their mind, whereby they sometimes, as with sweet .dreams, solace themselves, and sweeten the mise ries of their life. But they that are Prome- theus s scholars, are men endued with prudence, foreseeing things to come, warily shunning and avoiding many evils and misfortunes. But to these their good properties they have this also an nexed, that they deprive themselves and defraud their genius of many lawful pleasures, and divers recreations ; and, which is worse, they vex and torment themselves with cares and troubles, and intestine fears ; for being chained to the pillar of necessity, they are afflicted with innumerable cogi tations, which, because they are very swift, may be fitly compared to an eagle ; and those grip ing, and, as it were gnawing and devouring the liver, unless sometimes as it were by night, it may be they get a little recreation and ease of mind, but so, as that they are again suddenly as saulted with fresh anxieties and fears. Therefore this benefit happens to but a very few of either condition, that they should retain the commodities of providence, and free them selves from the miseries of care and perturbation; neither indeed can any attain unto it but by the assistance of Hercules, that is, fortitude and con stancy of mind, which is prepared for every event, and armed in all fortunes ; foreseeing without fear, enjoying without loathing, and suffering without impatience. It is worth the noting also, that this virtue was not natural to Prome theus, but adventitial, and from the indulgence of another, for no inbred and natural fortitude is able to encounter with these miseries. Moreover this virtue was received and brought unto him from the remotest part of the ocean, and from the sun, that is, from wisdom as from the sun ; and from the meditation of inconstancy, or of the waters of human life, as from the sailing upon the ocean; which two, Virgil hath well conjoined in these verses : " telix qiii potuit rerum cognoscere causas: Quique riietns crimes, et inexorabile fatum Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari. " Happy is he that knows the cause of things, And that with dauntless courage tread-s upon Ml fear and fates, relentless threatenings, Mid greedy throat of roaring Acheron. Moreover, it is elegantly added for the consola tion and confirmation of men s minds, that this noble hero crossed the ocean in a cup or pan, lest, jierid venture, they might too much fear that the M raits and frailty of their nature will not be capa ble of this fortitude and constancy. Of which very thing Seneca well conceived, when he said, " Magnum est hahere simul fragilitatem hominis, et securitatem Dei." It is a great matter for hu. man frailty and divine security to be one. and the selfsame time, in one and the selfsame subject. But now we are to step back a little again to that, which by premeditation we past over, lest a breach should be made in those things which were so linked together: that therefore which 1 could touch here is that last crime imputed to Prometheus, about seeking to bereave Minerva of her virginity : for, questionless, it was this heinous offence that brought that punishment of devouring his liver upon him ; which is nothing else but to show, that when we are puffed up with too much learning and science, they go about of tentimes to make even divine oracles subject to sense and reason, whence most certainly follows a continual distraction, and restless griping of the mind ; we must therefore, with a sober and hum ble judgment, distinguish between humanity and divinity, and between the oracles of sense and the mysteries of faith, unless an heretical religion and a commentitious philosophy be pleasing unto us. Lastly, it remains that we say something of the games of Prometheus, performed with burn ing torches, which again hath reference to arts and sciences, as that fire, in whose memory and celebration these games were instituted ; and it contains in it a most wise admonition, that the perfection of sciences is to be expected from succession, not from the nimbleness and prompt ness of one only author : for they that are nim blest in course, and strongest in contention, yet happily have not the luck to keep fire still in their torch, seeing it may be as well extinguished by running too fast as by going too slow. And this running and contending with lamps seems long since to be intermitted, seeing all sciences seem even now to flourish most in their first authors, Aristotle, Galen, Euclid, and Ptolemy ; succes sion having neither effected, nor almost attempted any great matter; it were therefore to be wished that these games, in honour of Prometheus, or human nature, were again restored ; and that matters should receive success by combat and emulation, and not hang upon any one man s sparkling and shaking torch. Men therefore are to be admonished to rouse up their spirits, ard try their strengths and turns, and not refer all to the opinions and brains of a few. And thus have I delivered that which I thought good to observe out of this so well known and common fable ; and yet I will not deny but that there may be some things in it which have an ad mirable consent with the mysteries of Christian religion; and especially that sailing of Hercules in a cnp to set Prometheus at liberty, seems to represent an image of the divine word, coming in flesh, as in a frail vessel, to redeem man from tho Till: WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

slavery of hell. But I have interdicted my pen all lilxTty in this kind lest I should use strange ft re at the altar of the Lord. SCVLLA AND ICARUS, OR THK MID- DLK WAY. MEDIOCRITY, or the middle-way, is most com mended in moral actions; in contemplative sci ences not so celebrated, though no less profitable and commodious; but in political employments to be used with great heed and judgment. The ancients by the way prescribed to Icarus, noted the mediocrity of manners ; and by the way be tween ScyUa and Charybdis, so famous for dif ficulty and danger, the mediocrity of intellectual operations. Icarus being to cross the sea by flight, was com manded by his. father that he should fly neither too high nor too low, for his wings being joined with wax, if he should mount too high, it was to be feared lest the wax would melt by the heat of the sun, and if too low, lest misty vapours of the sea would make it less tenacious : but he in a youthful jollity soaring too high, fell down head long and perished in the water. The parable is easy and vulgar : for the way of virtue lies in a direct path between excess and defect. Neither is it a wonder that Icarus perished by excess, seeing that excess for the most part, is the peculiar fault of youth, as defect is of age ; and yet of two evil and hurtful ways, youth commonly make choice of the better, de fect being always accounted worst: for whereas excess contains some sparks of magnanimity, and, like a bird, claims kindred of the heavens, defect only like a base worm crawls upon the earth. Excellently therefore said Heraclitus, "Lumen siccum, optima anima;" a dry light is the best soul ; for if the soul contract moisture from the earth it becomes degenerate altogether. Again, on the other side, there must be modera tion used, that this light be subtilized by this laudable siccity, and not destroyed by too much fervency : and thus much every man for the most part knows. Now they that would sail between Scylla and Charybdis must be furnished as well with the skill as prosperous success in navigation : for if their ships fall into Scylla they are split on the rocks; if into Charybdis they are swallowed up of a gulf. The moral of this parable, which we will but briefly touch, although it contain matter of infinite contemplation, seems to be this, that in every art and science, and so in their rules and axioms, there be a mean observed between the rocks of dis tinctions and the gulfs of universalities, which two are famous for the wrecks both of wits and arts. SIM IV. NX, OR SCIENCE. THEY say that Sphynx was a monster of divers forms, as having the face and voice of a virgin, the wings of a bird, and the talons of a irrilliii. . His abode was in a mountain near the citv "1 j Thebes; he kept also the highways, and used to lie in ambush for travellers, and so to surprise them : to whom, being in his power, he pro pounded certain dark and intricate riddles, which were thought to have been given and received of ! the Muses. Now if these miserable captives were not able instantly to resolve and interpret them, in the midst of their difficulties and doubts, she would rend and tear them in pieces. The country groaning a long time under this calamity, the Thebans at last propounded the kingdom as a reward unto him that could interpret the riddles of Sphynx, there being no other way to destroy her. Whereupon QCdipus, a man of piercing and deep judgment, but maimed and lame by reason of holes bored in his feet, moved with the hope of so great a reward, accepted the condition, and determined to put it to the hazard, and so with an undaunted and bold spirit, presented himself before the monster, who asked him what creature that was, which after his birth went first upon four feet, next upon two, then upon three, and lastly upon four feet again; answered forth with that it was man, which in his infancy, im mediately after birth, crawls upon all four, scarce venturing to creep, and not long after stands up right upon two feet, then growing old he leans upon a staff, wherewith he supports himself; so that he may seem to have three feet, and at last, in decrepid years, his strength failing him, he falls grovelling again upon four, and lies bedrid. Having therefore by this true answer gotten the victory, he instantly slew this Sphynx, and, lay ing her body upon an ass, leads it as it were in triumph ; and so, according to the condition, was created king of the Thebans. . This fable contains in it no less wisdom than elegancy, and it seems to point at science, espe cially that which is joined with practice, for sci ence may not absurdly be termed a monster, as being by the ignorant and rude multitude always held in admiration. It is diverse in shape and figure, by reason of the infinite variety of sub jects, wherein it is conversant. A maiden face and voice is attributed unto it for its gracious countenance and volubility of tongue. Vingsi are added, because sciences and their inventions do pass and fly from one to another, as it were, in a moment, seeing that the communication of science is as the kindling of one light at another Elegantly also it is feigned to have sharp and hooked talons, because the axioms and argu ments of science do so fasten upon the mind, and so strongly apprehend and hold it, as that it 310 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. stir not or ev;ide, which is noted also by the Di vine Philosopher, Eccl. xii. 11 :" Verba sapien- tum," saith he, "sunt tanquam aculei et veluti clavi in altum defixi." The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails driven far in. Moreover, all science seems to be placed in ateep and high mountains; as being thought to be a lofty and high thing, looking down upon ignorance with a scornful eye. It may be ob served and seen also a great way, and far in com pass, as things set on the tops of mountains. Furthermore, science may well be feigned to oeset the highways, because which way soever we turn in this progress and pilgrimage of human life, we meet with some matter or occasion offered for contemplation. Sphynx is said to have received from the muses divers difficult questions and riddles, and to propound them unto men, which remaining with the muses, are free, it may be from savage cruelty ; for so long as there is no other end of study and meditation, than to know, the under standing is not racked and imprisoned, but enjoys freedom and liberty, and even in doubts and variety finds a kind of pleasure and delectation ; but when once these enigmas are delivered by the muses to Sphynx, that is, to practice, so that it be solicited and urged by action, and election, and determination, then they begin to be trouble some and raging; and unless they be resolved and expedited, they do wonderfully torment and vex the minds of men, distracting, and in a man ner rending them into sundry parts. Moreover, there is always a twofold condition propounded with Sphynx s enigmas : to him that doth not expound them, distraction of mind ; and to him that doth, a kingdom ; for he that knows that which he sought to know, hath attained the end he aimed at, and every artificer also com mands over his work. Of Sphynx s ridd-les, they are generally two kinds; some concerning the nature of things, others touching the nature of man. So also there are two kinds of empires, as rewards to those that resolve them. The one over nature, the other over men; for the proper and chief end of true natural philosophy is to command and sway over natural beings ; as bodies, medicines, mechanical works, and infinite other things; although the school, being content with such things as are offered, and priding itself with speeches, doth neglect realities and works, tread ing them as it were under foot. But that enigma propounded to (Edipus, by means of which he obtained the Theban empire, belonged to the nature of man : for whosoever doth thoroughly consider the nature of man, may be in a manner tfie contriver of his own fortune, and is born o command, whicb is well spoken of the Roman arts "Tn regere iniperio populos, Romane memento Hie tibi erunt artr.B " Roman remember, that with sceptre s awe Thy realms thou rul st. These arts let be thy rule. -It was, therefore, very apposite, that Augustus Caesar, whether by premeditation, or by a chance, bare a sphynx in his signet; for he, if ever any, was famous not only in political government, but in all the course of his life ; he happily discovered many new enigmas concerning the nature of man, which if he had not done with dexterity and promptness, he had oftentimes fallen into imminent danger and destruction. Moreover, it is added in the fable, that the body of Sphynx, when she was overcome, was laid upon an ass; which indeed is an elegant fiction, seeing there is nothing so acute and ab struse, but, being well understood and divulged, may be apprehended by a slow capacity. Neither is it to be omitted, that Sphynx was overcome by a man lame in his feet ; for when men are too swift of foot, and too speedy of pace in hasting to Sphynx s enigmas, it comes to pass, that, she getting the upper hand, their wits and minds are rather distracted by disputations, than that ever they come to command by works and effects. PROSERPINA, OR SPIRIT. PLUTO, they say, being made king of the infer nal dominions, by that memorable division, was in despair of ever attaining any one of the supe rior goddesses in marriage, especially if he should venture to court them, either with words, or with any amorous behaviour; so that of necessity he was to lay some plot to get one of them by ra pine : taking, therefore, the benefit of opportunity, he caught up Proserpina, the daughter of Ceres, a beautiful virgin, as she was gathering Narcissus flowers in the meadows of Sicily, and carried her away with him in his coach to the subterranean dominions, where she was welcomed with such respect, as that she was styled the Lady of Dis. But Ceres, her mother, when in no place she should find this her only beloved daughter, in a sorrowful humour and distracted beyond measure, went compassing the whole earth with a burning torch in her hand, to seek and recover this her lost child. But when she saw that all was in vain, supposing peradventure that she was carried to hell, she importuned Jupiter with many tears and lamentations, that she rnight.be restored unto her again : and at length prevailed thus far, that if she had tasted of nothing in hell, she should have leave to bring her from thence. Which condition was as good as a denial to her petition, Proserpina having already eaten three grains of a pomegranate. And yet for all this, Ceres gave not over her suit, but fell to prayers and moan? THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.

afresh ; wherefore it was at last granted that, the year being divided, Proserpina should, by alternate courses, remain one six months with her husband, and other six months with her mother. Not long after this, Theseus and Perithous, in an over- hardy adventure, attempted to fetch her from Pluto s bed, who, being weary with travel and sitting down upon a stone in hell to rest them selves, had not the power to rise again, but sat there forever. Proserpina therefore remained queen of hell, in whose honour there was this great privilege granted ; that, although it were enacted that none that went down to hell should have the power ever to return from thence; yet was this singular exception annexed to this law, that if any presented Proserpina with a golden bough, it should be lawful for him to go and come at his pleasure. Now there was but one only such a bough in a spacious and shady grove, which was not a plant neither of itself, but bud ded from a tree of another kind, like a rope of gum, which being plucked off, another would instantly spring out. This fable seems to pertain to nature, and to dive into that rich and plentiful efficacy and va riety of subalternal creatures, from whom what soever we have is derived, and to them doth again return. By Proserpina, the ancients meant that ethe real spirit, which being separated from the upper globe, is shut up and detained under the earth, re presented by Pluto, which the poet well express ed thus : "Sive recens tellus, seductaque nuper ah alto .4;there,cognati retinebat semina coeli." Whether the youngling Tellus (that of late Was from the high-rear d tether separate) Did yet contain her teeming womb within The living seeds of heaven, her nearest kin. This spirit is feigned to be rapted by the earth, because nothing can withhold it, when it hath time and leisure to escape. It is therefore caught and stayed by a sudden contraction, no otherwise than if a man should go about to mix air with water, which can be done by no means, but by a speedy and rapid agitation, as may be seen in froth, wherein the air is rapted by the water. Neither is it inelegantly added that Proserpina was rapt as she was gathering Narcissus flowers in the valleys, because Narcissus hath his name from slowness or stupidity : for, indeed, then is this spirit most prepared and fitted to be snatched by terrestrial matter, when it begins to be coagu lated, and become as it were slow. Rightly is Proserpina honoured more than any of the other god s bed-fellows, in being styled the Lady of Dis, because this spirit doth rule and sway all things in those lower regions, Pluto abiding stupid and ignorant. This spirit, the power celestial, shadowed by Ceres, strives with infinite sedulity, to recover and get again: for that brand or burning torch of aether which Ceres carried in her hand, doth doubtless signify the sun, which erilighteneth the whole circuit of the earth, and would be of the greatest moment to recover Proserpina, if pos sibly it might be. But Proserpina abides still, the reason of which is accurately and excellently propounded in the condition between Jupiter and Ceres : for first it is most certain there are two ways to keep spirit in solid and terrestrial matter : the one by constipa tion and obstruction, which is mere imprisonment and constraint ; the other by administration or pro portionable nutriment, which it receives willingly and of its own accord ; for after that the included spirit begins to feed and nourish itself, it makes no haste to be gone, but is, as it were, linked to its earth : and this is pointed at by Proserpina her eating of pomegranate; which, if she had not done, she had long since been recovered by Ceres with her torch, compassing the earth. Now, as concerning that spirit which is in metals and minerals, it is chiefly perchance restrained by so lidity of mass : but that which is in plants and animals inhabits a porous body, and hath open passage to be gone in a manner as it lists, were it not that it willingly abides of its own accord, by reason of the relish it finds in its entertainment. The second condition concerning the six months custom, it is no other than an elegant description of the division of the year, seeing this spirit mixed with the earth appears above ground in vegetable bodies during the summer months, and in the winter sinks down again. Now as concerning Theseus and Perithous, and their attempt to bring Proserpina quite away ; the meaning of it is, that it oftentimes comes to pass that some more subtle spirits descending with divers bodies to the earth, never come to suck of any subalteran spirit, whereby to unite it unto them, and so to bring it away. But, on the contrary, are coagulated themselves, und never rise more, that Proserpina should be by that means augmented with inhabitants and dominion All that we can say concerning that sprig ot gold is hardly able to defend us from the violence of the chymists, if in this regard they set upon us, seeing they promise by that their elixir to effect golden mountains, and the restoring of natural bodies, as it were from the portal of hell. But, concerning chymistry, and those perpetual suitors for that philosophical elixir, we know certainly that their theory is without grounds, and we sus pect that their practice also is without certain re ward. And therefore, omiting these, of this last part of the parable, this is my opinion, I am in duced to believe by many figures of the ancients, that the conservation and restoration of natural bodies, in some sort, was not esteemed by them as a thing impossible to be attained, but as a thing abstruse and full of difficulties, and so they sem 312 THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS. to intimate in this place, when they report that like the grapes ill pressed ; from which, though this one only sprig was found among infinite other | some liquor were drawn, yet the best was left be- trees in a huge and thick wood, which they feign ed to be of gold, because gold is the badge of perpetuity, and to be artificially as it were insert ed, because this effect is to be rather hoped for from art, than from any medicine, or simple or na tural means. METIS, OR COUNSEL. THE ancient poets report that Jupiter took Me tis to wife, whose name doth plainly signify coun sel, and that she by him conceived. Which when he found, not tarrying the time of her deli devours both her and that which she went withal, by which means Jupiter himself became with t child, and was delivered of a wondrous birth ; for out of his head or brain came forth Pallas armed. The sense of this fable, which at first appre hension may seem monstrous and absurd, tains in it a secret of state, to wit, with what po licy kings are wont to carry themselves towards their counsellors, whereby they may not only pre serve their authority and majesty free and entire, but also that it may be the more extolled and dig nified of the people: for kings being as it were tied and coupled in a nuptial bond to their counsellors, do truly conceive that communicating with them about the affairs of greatest importance, do yet de tract nothing from their own majesty. But when any matter comes to be censured or decreed, which is a birth, there do they confine and restrain the liberty of their counsellors ; lest that which is done should seem to be hatched by their wisdom and judgment. So as at last kings, except it be in such matters as are distasteful and maligned, which they always will be sure to put off from themselves, do assume the honour and praise of all matters that are ruminated in council, and as it were, formed in the womb, whereby the resolu tion and execution, which, because it proceeds from power and implies necessity, is elegantly shadowed under the figure of Pallas armed, shall seem to proceed wholly from themselves. Nei ther sumceth it, that it is done by the authority of the king, by his mere will and free applause, ex cept withal, this be added and appropriated as to issue out of his own head or brain, intimating, that out of his own judgment, wisdom, and ordi nance, it was only invented and derived. THE SIRENS, OR PLEASURES. THE fable of the Sirens seems rightly to have l.een applied to the pernicious allurements of plea sure, but in a very vulgar and gross manner. And, therefore, to me it appears, that the wisdom. of the ancients ha<e, with a farther raach or in- hind. These Sirens are said to be the daughters of Achelous and Terpsichore one of the muses, who in their first being were winged, but after rashly entering into contention with the muses, were by them vanquished and deprived of their wings: of whose plucked out feathers the muses made themselves coronets, so as ever since that time all the muses have attired themselves with plumed heads, except Terpsichore only, that was mother to the Sirens. The habitation of the Si rens was in certain pleasant islands, from whence as soon as out of their watch-tower they disco vered any ships approaching, with their sweet tunes they would first entice and stay them, and having them in their power would destroy them. Neither was their song plain and single, but con sisting of such variety of melodious tunes, so fitting and delighting the ears that heard them, as that it ravished and betrayed all passengers: and so great were the mischiefs they did, that these isles of the Sirens, even as far off as man can ken them, appeared all over white with the bones of unburied carcasses. For the remedying of this misery a double means was at last found out, the one by Ulysses, the other by Orpheus. Ulysses, to make experiment of his device, caused all the ears of his company to be stopped with wax, and made himself to be bound to the mainmast, with special commandment to his mariners not to be loosed, albeit himself should require them so to But Orpheus neglected and disdained to be so bound, with a shrill and sweet voice singing praises of the gods to his harp, suppressed the songs of the Sirens, and so freed himself from their danger. This fable hath relation to men s manners, and contains in it a manifest and most excellent para- ile : for pleasures do for the most proceed out of the abundance and superfluity of all things, and also out of the delights and jovial contentments of the mind : the which are wont suddenly, as it re with winged enticements to ravish and rap mortal men. t so to pass But learning and education brings that it restrains and bridles man s nind, making it so to consider the ends and events, of things, as that it clips the wings of plea sure. And this was greatly to the honour and enown of the muses ; for after that, by some ex ample, it was made manifest that by the power of )hilosophy vain pleasures might grow contempt- ble; it presently grew to great esteem, as a thing hat could raise and elevate the mind aloft, that

eemed to be base and fixed to the earth, ms?ke the

logkations of the men, which do ever reside in the lead, to be sethereal, and as it were winged. But hat the mother of the Sirens was left to her eet, and without wings, that no doubt is no other wise meant than of light and superficial learning, light, strained deeper mattei out of them, not un- j appropriated and defined only to pleasures, were those which Petronius devoted himself unto at irr lie had received his fatal sentence; and, naving his foot as it were upon the threshold of death, sought to give himself all delightful con tentments; insomuch, as when he had caused con solatory letters to be sent him, he would peruse none of them, as Tacitus reports, that should yive him courage and constancy, but only read fantas tical verses such as these are.

"Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque aineinua,
RimioreRque senuni severiorurn,
Guinea unius ffislimemus assis."

My Lesbia, let us live and love :
Though wayward dotards us reprove,
Weigh their words light fur our behove.

And this also:

"Jura senes norint, et quid sit fasque nefasrpie,
Inquirant tristes, legumque exaiuina servent.

Let doting grandsires know the law,
And right and wrong observe with awe:
Let them in that strict circle draw.

This kind of doctrine would easily persuade to take these plumed coronets from the muses, and to restore the wings again to the Sirens. These Sirens are said to dwell in remote isles, for that pleasures love privacy and retired places, shunning always too much company of people. The Sirens songs are so vulgarly understood, together with the deceits and danger of them, as that they need no exposition. But that of the bones appearing like white cliffs, and decried afar off, hath more acuteness in it: for thereby is signified, that albeit the examples of afflictions he manifest and eminent, yet do they not sufficiently deter us from the wicked enticements of pleasures. As for the remainder of this parable, though it be not over-mystical, yet it is very grave and excellent: for in it are set out three remedies for this violent enticing mischief; to wit, two from philosophy, and one from religion. The first me. MIS to shun these inordinate pleasures is, to withstand and resist them in their beginnings, and seriously to shun all occasions that are offer ed to debauch and entice the mind, which is signified in that stopping of the ears; and that remedy is properly used by the meaner and baser sort of people, as it were Ulysses's followers or mariners, whereas more heroic and noble spirits may boldly converse even in the midst of these seducing pleasures, if with a resolved constancy they stand upon their guard and fortify their minds, and so take greater contentment in the trial and experience of this their approved virtue; learning rather thoroughly to understand the follies and vanities of those pleasures by contemplation than by submission. Which Solomon avouched of himself, when he reckoned up the multitude of those solaces and pleasures wherein he swam, doth conclude with this sentence:

"Sapientia quoque perseverabat mecum."

Wisdom also continued with me.

Therefore these heroes and spirits of this excel lent temper, even in the midst of these enticing pleasures, can show themselves constant and in vincible, and are able to support their own virtuous inclination against all heady and forcible persuasions whatsoever; as by the example of Ulysses, that so peremptorily interdicted all pestilent counsels and flatteries of his companions, 39 the most dangerous and pernicious poisons to captivate the mind. But of all other remedies in this case that of Orpheus is most predominant; for they that chaunt and resound the praises of the gods confound and dissipate the voices and incantation of the Sirens; for divine meditations do no only in power subdue all sensual pleasures, bu4 also far exceed them in sweetness and delight.