Francis Bacon

The Essays
 The Essays
by
Francis Bacon
1601

OF TRUTH

What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer.
Certainly there be, that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix
a belief; affecting free–will in thinking, as well as in acting. And though
the sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain
discoursing wits, which are of the same veins, though there be not so
much blood in them, as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the
difficulty and labor, which men take in finding out of truth, nor again,
that when it is found, it imposeth upon men’s thoughts, that doth bring
lies in favor; but a natural though corrupt love, of the lie itself. One of the
later school of the Grecians, examineth the matter, and is at a stand, to
think what should be in it, that men should love lies; where neither they
make for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advantage, as with the
merchant; but for the lie’s sake. But I cannot tell; this same truth, is a
naked, and open day–light, that doth not show the masks, and
mummeries, and triumphs, of the world, half so stately and daintily as
candle–lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that
showeth best by day; but it will not rise to the price of a diamond, or
carbuncle, that showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever
add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of men’s
minds, vain opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as
one would, and the like, but it would leave the minds, of a number of
men, poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and
unpleasing to themselves?

One of the fathers, in great severity, called poesy vinum doemonum,

because it filleth the imagination; and yet, it is but with the shadow of a
lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that
sinketh in, and settleth in it, that doth the hurt; such as we spake of
before. But, howsoever these things are thus in men’s depraved
judgments, and affections, yet truth, which only doth judge itself,
teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is the love–making, or wooing of
it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of
truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature.
The first creature of God, in the works of the days, was the light of the
sense; the last, was the light of reason; and his sabbath work ever since,
is the illumination of his Spirit. First he breathed light, upon the face of
the matter or chaos; then he breathed light, into the face of man; and still
he breatheth and inspireth light, into the face of his chosen. The poet,
that beautified the sect, that was otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet
excellently well: It is a pleasure, to stand upon the shore, and to see ships
tossed upon the sea; a pleasure, to stand in the window of a castle, and
to see a battle, and the adventures thereof below: but no pleasure is
comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of truth (a hill not
to be commanded, and where the air is always clear and serene), and to
see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale
below; so always that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling, or
pride. Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man’s mind move in
charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the poles of truth.

To pass from theological, and philosophical truth, to the truth of civil

business; it will be acknowledged, even by those that practise it not, that
clear, and round dealing, is the honor of man’s nature; and that mixture
of falsehoods, is like alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may make the
metal work the better, but it embaseth it. For these winding, and crooked
courses, are the goings of the serpent; which goeth basely upon the
belly, and not upon the feet. There is no vice, that doth so cover a man
with shame, as to be found false and perfidious. And therefore Montaigne
saith prettily, when he inquired the reason, why the word of the lie should
be such a disgrace, and such an odious charge? Saith he, If it be well
weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much to say, as that he is brave
towards God, and a coward towards men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks
from man. Surely the wickedness of falsehood, and breach of faith,
cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in that it shall be the last peal,
to call the judgments of God upon the generations of men; it being
foretold, that when Christ cometh, he shall not find faith upon the earth.

OF DEATH

Men fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear
in children, is increased with tales, so is the other. Certainly, the
contemplation of death, as the wages of sin, and passage to another
world, is holy and religious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto
nature, is weak. Yet in religious meditations, there is sometimes mixture
of vanity, and of superstition. You shall read, in some of the friars’ books
of mortification, that a man should think with himself, what the pain is, if
he have but his finger’s end pressed, or tortured, and thereby imagine,
what the pains of death are, when the whole body is corrupted, and
dissolved; when many times death passeth, with less pain than the
torture of a limb; for the most vital parts, are not the quickest of sense.
And by him that spake only as a philosopher, and natural man, it was well
said, Pompa mortis magis terret, quam mors ipsa. Groans, and
convulsions, and a discolored face, and friends weeping, and blacks, and
obsequies, and the like, show death terrible. It is worthy the observing,
that there is no passion in the mind of man, so weak, but it mates, and
masters, the fear of death; and therefore, death is no such terrible
enemy, when a man hath so many attendants about him, that can win the
combat of him. Revenge triumphs over death; love slights it; honor
aspireth to it; grief flieth to it; fear preoccupateth it; nay, we read, after
Otho the emperor had slain himself, pity (which is the tenderest of
affections) provoked many to die, out of mere compassion to their
sovereign, and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, Seneca adds niceness
dreams. The second is, that probable conjectures, or obscure traditions,
many times turn themselves into prophecies; while the nature of man,
which coveteth divination, thinks it no peril to foretell that which indeed
they do but collect. As that of Seneca’s verse. For so much was then
subject to demonstration, that the globe of the earth had great parts
beyond the Atlantic, which mought be probably conceived not to be all
sea: and adding thereto the tradition in Plato’s Timaeus, and his
Atlanticus, it mought encourage one to turn it to a prediction. The third
and last (which is the great one) is, that almost all of them, being infinite
in number, have been impostures, and by idle and crafty brains merely
contrived and feigned, after the event past.

OF AMBITION

Ambition is like choler; which is an humor that maketh men active,

earnest, full of alacrity, and stirring, if it be not stopped. But if it be
stopped, and cannot have his way, it becometh adust, and thereby malign
and venomous. So ambitious men, if they find the way open for their
rising, and still get forward, they are rather busy than dangerous; but if
they be checked in their desires, they become secretly discontent, and
look upon men and matters with an evil eye, and are best pleased, when
things go backward; which is the worst property in a servant of a prince,
or state. Therefore it is good for princes, if they use ambitious men, to
handle it, so as they be still progressive and not retrograde; which,
because it cannot be without inconvenience, it is good not to use such
natures at all. For if they rise not with their service, they will take order,
to make their service fall with them. But since we have said, it were good
not to use men of ambitious natures, except it be upon necessity, it is fit
we speak, in what cases they are of necessity. Good commanders in the
wars must be taken, be they never so ambitious; for the use of their
service, dispenseth with the rest; and to take a soldier without ambition,
is to pull off his spurs. There is also great use of ambitious men, in being
screens to princes in matters of danger and envy; for no man will take
that part, except he be like a seeled dove, that mounts and mounts,
because he cannot see about him. There is use also of ambitious men, in
pulling down the greatness of any subject that over–tops; as Tiberius
used Marco, in the pulling down of Sejanus. Since, therefore, they must
be used in such cases, there resteth to speak, how they are to be bridled,
that they may be less dangerous. There is less danger of them, if they be
of mean birth, than if they be noble; and if they be rather harsh of nature,
than gracious and popular: and if they be rather new raised, than grown
cunning, and fortified, in their greatness. It is counted by some, a
weakness in princes, to have favorites; but it is, of all others, the best
remedy against ambitious great–ones. For when the way of pleasuring,
and displeasuring, lieth by the favorite, it is impossible any other should
be overgreat. Another means to curb them, is to balance them by others,
as proud as they. But then there must be some middle counsellors, to
keep things steady; for without that ballast, the ship will roll too much. At
the least, a prince may animate and inure some meaner persons, to be as
it were scourges, to ambitions men. As for the having of them obnoxious
to ruin; if they be of fearful natures, it may do well; but if they be stout
and daring, it may precipitate their designs, and prove dangerous. As for
the pulling of them down, if the affairs require it, and that it may not be
done with safety suddenly, the only way is the interchange, continually, of
favors and disgraces; whereby they may not know what to expect, and be,
as it were, in a wood. Of ambitions, it is less harmful, the ambition to
prevail in great things, than that other, to appear in every thing; for that
breeds confusion, and mars business. But yet it is less danger, to have an
ambitious man stirring in business, than great in dependences. He that
seeketh to be eminent amongst able men, hath a great task; but that is
ever good for the public. But he, that plots to be the only figure amongst
ciphers, is the decay of a whole age. Honor hath three things in it: the
vantage ground to do good; the approach to kings and principal persons;
and the raising of a man’s own fortunes. He that hath the best of these
intentions, when he aspireth, is an honest man; and that prince, that can
discern of these intentions in another that aspireth, is a wise prince.
Generally, let princes and states choose such ministers, as are more
sensible of duty than of rising; and such as love business rather upon
conscience, than upon bravery, and let them discern a busy nature, from
a willing mind.
aequum feras is a good rule, where a man hath strength of favor: but
otherwise, a man were better rise in his suit; for he, that would have
ventured at first to have lost the suitor, will not in the conclusion lose
both the suitor, and his own former favor. Nothing is thought so easy a
request to a great person, as his letter; and yet, if it be not in a good
cause, it is so much out of his reputation. There are no worse
instruments, than these general contrivers of suits; for they are but a
kind of poison, and infection, to public proceedings.

OF STUDIES

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief use for
delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and
for ability, is in the judgment, and disposition of business. For expert
men can execute, and perhaps judge of particulars, one by one; but the
general counsels, and the plots and marshalling of affairs, come best,
from those that are learned. To spend too much time in studies is sloth;
to use them too much for ornament, is affectation; to make judgment
wholly by their rules, is the humor of a scholar. They perfect nature, and
are perfected by experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants,
that need proyning, by study; and studies themselves, do give forth
directions too much at large, except they be bounded in by experience.
Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use
them; for they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without
them, and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and
confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and
discourse; but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted,
others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is,
some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but not
curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and
attention. Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts made of
them by others; but that would be only in the less important arguments,
and the meaner sort of books, else distilled books are like common
distilled waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full man; conference a
ready man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little,
he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a
present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to
seem to know, that he doth not. Histories make men wise; poets witty;
the mathematics subtile; natural philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and
rhetoric able to contend. Abeunt studia in mores. Nay, there is no stond
or impediment in the wit, but may be wrought out by fit studies; like as
diseases of the body, may have appropriate exercises. Bowling is good
for the stone and reins; shooting for the lungs and breast; gentle walking
for the stomach; riding for the head; and the like. So if a man’s wit be
wandering, let him study the mathematics; for in demonstrations, if his
wit be called away never so little, he must begin again. If his wit be not
apt to distinguish or find differences, let him study the Schoolmen; for
they are cymini sectores. If he be not apt to beat over matters, and to call
up one thing to prove and illustrate another, let him study the lawyers’
cases. So every defect of the mind, may have a special receipt.

OF FACTION

Many have an opinion not wise, that for a prince to govern his estate, or
for a great person to govern his proceedings, according to the respect of
factions, is a principal part of policy; whereas contrariwise, the chiefest
wisdom, is either in ordering those things which are general, and wherein
men of several factions do nevertheless agree; or in dealing with
correspondence to particular persons, one by one. But I say not that the
considerations of factions, is to be neglected. Mean men, in their rising,
must adhere; but great men, that have strength in themselves, were
better to maintain themselves indifferent, and neutral. Yet even in
beginners, to adhere so moderately, as he be a man of the one faction,
which is most passable with the other, commonly giveth best way. The
lower and weaker faction, is the firmer in conjunction; and it is often
seen, that a few that are stiff, do tire out a greater number, that are more
moderate. When one of the factions is extinguished, the remaining
subdivideth; as the faction between Lucullus, and the rest of the nobles
of the senate (which they called Optimates) held out awhile, against the
faction of Pompey and Caesar; but when the senate’s authority was pulled