Bacon's Essays, and Wisdom of the Ancients
and loud, and well placed. The colors that show best by candlelight,
are white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water green; and ouches,[406]
or spangs,[407] as they are of no great cost, so they are of most
glory. As for rich embroidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let the
suits of the masquers be graceful, and such as become the person
when the vizors are off; not after examples of known attires, Turks,
soldiers, mariners, and the like. Let anti-masques[408] not be long;
they have been commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild men, antics,
beasts, sprites, witches, Ethiopes, pigmies, turquets,[409] nymphs,
rustics, Cupids, statues moving, and the like. As for angels, it is
not comical enough to put them in anti-masques; and any thing that
is hideous, as devils, giants, is, on the other side, as unfit; but,
chiefly, let the music of them be recreative, and with some strange
changes. Some sweet odors suddenly coming forth, without any drops
falling, are, in such a company as there is steam and heat, things of
great pleasure and refreshment. Double masques, one of men, another of
ladies, addeth state and variety; but all is nothing, except the room
be kept clear and neat.
For justs, and tourneys, and barriers, the glories of them are chiefly
in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their entry; especially
if they be drawn with strange beasts, as lions, bears, camels, and the
like; or in the devices of their entrance, or in the bravery of their
liveries, or in the goodly furniture of their horses and armor. But
enough of these toys.
XXXVIII.—OF NATURE IN MEN.
Nature is often hidden, sometimes overcome, seldom extinguished. Force
maketh nature more violent in the return; doctrine and discourse maketh
nature less importune, but custom only doth alter and subdue nature.
He that seeketh victory over his nature, let him not set himself too
great nor too small tasks; for the first will make him dejected by
often failings, and the second will make him a small proceeder, though
by often prevailings. And at the first, let him practise with helps,
as swimmers do with bladders, or rushes; but, after a time, let him
practise with disadvantages, as dancers do with thick shoes; for it
breeds great perfection, if the practice be harder than the use. Where
nature is mighty, and therefore the victory hard, the degrees had need
be, first, to stay and arrest nature in time; like to him that would
say over the four and twenty letters when he was angry; then to go less
in quantity: as if one should, in forbearing wine, come from drinking
healths to a draught at a meal; and, lastly, to discontinue altogether;
but if a man have the fortitude and resolution to enfranchise himself
at once, that is the best:—
“Optimus ille animi vindex lædentia pectus
Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel.”[410]
Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand to a
contrary extreme, whereby to set it right; understanding it where
the contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a man force a habit upon
himself with a perpetual continuance, but with some intermission, for
both the pause reinforceth the new onset; and if a man that is not
perfect be ever in practice, he shall as well practise his errors as
his abilities, and induce one habit of both; and there is no means to
help this but by seasonable intermissions. But let not a man trust his
victory over his nature too far; for nature will lie buried a great
time, and yet revive upon the occasion or temptation; like as it was
with Æsop’s damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very demurely
at the board’s end till a mouse ran before her. Therefore, let a man
either avoid the occasion altogether, or put himself often to it, that
he may be little moved with it. A man’s nature is best perceived in
privateness, for there is no affectation; in passion, for that putteth
a man out of his precepts; and in a new case or experiment, for there
custom leaveth him. They are happy men whose natures sort with their
vocations; otherwise they may say, “Multum incola fuit anima mea,”[411]
when they converse in those things they do not affect. In studies,
whatsoever a man commandeth upon himself, let him set hours for it: but
whatsoever is agreeable to his nature, let him take no care for any set
times; for his thoughts will fly to it of themselves, so as the spaces
of other business or studies will suffice. A man’s nature runs either
to herbs or weeds; therefore, let him seasonably water the one, and
destroy the other.
XXXIX.—OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION.
Men’s thoughts are much according to their inclination;[412] their
discourse and speeches according to their learning and infused
opinions; but their deeds are, after, as they have been accustomed;
and, therefore, as Machiavel well noteth (though in an evil-favored
instance), there is no trusting to the force of nature, nor to the
bravery of words, except it be corroborate by custom.[413] His instance
is, that, for the achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man should
not rest upon the fierceness of any man’s nature, or his resolute
undertakings, but take such a one as hath had his hands formerly
in blood; but Machiavel knew not of a Friar Clement,[414] nor a
Ravaillac,[415] nor a Jaureguy,[416] nor a Baltazar Gerard;[417] yet
his rule holdeth still, that nature, nor the engagement of words, are
not so forcible as custom. Only superstition is now so well advanced,
that men of the first blood are as firm as butchers by occupation; and
votary[418] resolution is made equipollent to custom, even in matter
of blood. In other things, the predominancy of custom is everywhere
visible, insomuch as a man would wonder to hear men profess, protest,
engage, give great words, and then do just as they have done before,
as if they were dead images and engines, moved only by the wheels of
custom. We see, also, the reign or tyranny of custom, what it is.
The Indians[419] (I mean the sect of their wise men) lay themselves
quietly upon a stack of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire;
nay, the wives strive to be burned with the corpses of their husbands.
The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were wont to be scourged upon
the altar of Diana, without so much as quecking.[420] I remember, in
the beginning of Queen Elizabeth’s time of England, an Irish rebel
condemned, put up a petition to the deputy that he might be hanged in
a withe, and not in a halter, because it had been so used with former
rebels. There be monks in Russia for penance, that will sit a whole
night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged with hard ice. Many
examples may be put of the force of custom, both upon mind and body;
therefore, since custom is the principal magistrate of man’s life,
let men, by all means, endeavor to obtain good customs. Certainly,
custom is most perfect when it beginneth in young years: this we call
education, which is, in effect, but an early custom. So we see, in
languages, the tongue is more pliant to all expressions and sounds, the
joints are more supple to all feats of activity and motions in youth,
than afterwards; for it is true, that late learners cannot so well take
the ply, except it be in some minds that have not suffered themselves
to fix, but have kept themselves open and prepared to receive continual
amendment, which is exceeding rare. But if the force of custom, simple
and separate, be great, the force of custom, copulate and conjoined
and collegiate, is far greater; for there example teacheth, company
comforteth, emulation quickeneth, glory raiseth; so as in such places
the force of custom is in his exaltation. Certainly, the great
multiplication of virtues upon human nature resteth upon societies well
ordained and disciplined; for commonwealths and good governments do
nourish virtue grown, but do not much mend the seeds; but the misery
is, that the most effectual means are now applied to the ends least to
be desired.
XL.—OF FORTUNE.
It cannot be denied, but outward accidents conduce much to fortune;
favor, opportunity, death of others, occasion fitting virtue; but,
chiefly, the mould of a man’s fortune is in his own hands: “Faber
quisque fortunæ suæ,”[421] saith the poet; and the most frequent
of external causes, is that the folly of one man is the fortune of
another; for no man prospers so suddenly as by others’ errors. “Serpens
nisi serpentem comederit non fit draco.”[422] Overt and apparent
virtues bring forth praise: but there be secret and hidden virtues that
bring forth fortune; certain deliveries of a man’s self, which have no
name. The Spanish name, “disemboltura,”[423] partly expresseth them,
when there be not stonds[424] nor restiveness in a man’s nature, but
that the wheels of his mind keep way with the wheels of his fortune;
for so Livy (after he had described Cato Major in these words, “In
illo viro, tantum robur corporis et animi fuit, ut quocunque loco
natus esset, fortunam sibi facturus videretur,”)[425] falleth upon
that, that he had “versatile ingenium:”[426] therefore, if a man look
sharply and attentively, he shall see Fortune; for though she be
blind, yet she is not invisible. The way of Fortune is like the milky
way in the sky; which is a meeting, or knot, of a number of small
stars, not seen asunder, but giving light together; so are there a
number of little and scarce discerned virtues, or rather faculties
and customs, that make men fortunate. The Italians note some of them,
such as a man would little think. When they speak of one that cannot
do amiss, they will throw in into his other conditions, that he hath
“Poco di matto;”[427] and, certainly, there be not two more fortunate
properties, than to have a little of the fool, and not too much of
the honest; therefore, extreme lovers of their country, or masters,
were never fortunate; neither can they be, for when a man placeth
his thoughts without himself, he goeth not his own way. A hasty
fortune maketh an enterpriser and remover (the French hath it better,
“entreprenant,” or “remuant”); but the exercised fortune maketh the
able man. Fortune is to be honored and respected, and it be but for her
daughters, Confidence and Reputation; for those two Felicity breedeth;
the first within a man’s self, the latter in others towards him. All
wise men, to decline the envy of their own virtues, use to ascribe them
to Providence and Fortune; for so they may the better assume them;
and, besides, it is greatness in a man to be the care of the higher
powers. So Cæsar said to the pilot in the tempest, “Cæsarem portas,
et fortunam ejus.”[428] So Sylla chose the name of “Felix,”[429] and
not of “Magnus;”[430] and it hath been noted, that those who ascribe
openly too much to their own wisdom and policy, end unfortunate. It
is written, that Timotheus[431] the Athenian, after he had, in the
account he gave to the state of his government, often interlaced his
speech, “and in this Fortune had no part,” never prospered in any
thing he undertook afterwards. Certainly there be, whose fortunes are
like Homer’s verses, that have a slide[432] and easiness more than
the verses of other poets; as Plutarch saith of Timoleon’s fortune in
respect of that of Agesilaus or Epaminondas; and that this should be,
no doubt it is much in a man’s self.
XLI.—OF USURY.[433]
Many have made witty invectives against usury. They say that it is pity
the devil should have God’s part, which is the tithe; that the usurer
is the greatest Sabbath-breaker, because his plough goeth every Sunday;
that the usurer is the drone that Virgil speaketh of:—
“Ignavum fucos pecus a præsepibus arcent;”[434]
that the usurer breaketh the first law that was made for mankind
after the fall, which was, “in sudore vultûs tui comedes panem