Bacon's Essays, and Wisdom of the Ancients
and common even to this day. Thus Chrysippus, like an interpreter of
dreams, attributed the opinions of the Stoics to the poets of old;
and the chemists, at present, more childishly apply the poetical
transformations to their experiments of the furnace. And though I
have well weighed and considered all this, and thoroughly seen into
the levity which the mind indulges for allegories and allusions,
yet I cannot but retain a high value for the ancient mythology.
And, certainly, it were very injudicious to suffer the fondness and
licentiousness of a few to detract from the honor of all ego and
parable in general. This would be rash, and almost profane; for, since
religion delights in such shadows and disguises, to abolish them were,
in a manner, to prohibit all intercourse betwixt things divine and
human.
Upon deliberate consideration, my judgment is, that a concealed
instruction and allegory was originally intended in many of the ancient
fables. This opinion may, in some respect, be owing to the veneration
I have for antiquity, but more to observing that some fables discover
a great and evident similitude, relation, and connection with the
thing they signify, as well in the structure of the fable as in the
propriety of the names whereby the persons or actors are characterized;
insomuch, that no one could positively deny a sense and meaning to
be from the first intended, and purposely shadowed out in them. For
who can hear that Fame, after the giants were destroyed, sprung up as
their posthumous sister, and not apply it to the clamor of parties
and the seditious rumors which commonly fly about for a time upon the
quelling of insurrections? Or who can read how the giant Typhon cut out
and carried away Jupiter’s sinews—which Mercury afterwards stole, and
again restored to Jupiter—and not presently observe that this allegory
denotes strong and powerful rebellions, which cut away from kings
their sinews, both of money and authority; and that the way to have
them restored is by lenity, affability, and prudent edicts, which soon
reconcile, and, as it were, steal upon the affections of the subject?
Or who, upon hearing that memorable expedition of the gods against
the giants, when the braying of Silenus’s ass greatly contributed in
putting the giants to flight, does not clearly conceive that this
directly points at the monstrous enterprises of rebellious subjects,
which are frequently frustrated and disappointed by vain fears and
empty rumors?
Again, the conformity and purport of the names is frequently manifest
and self-evident. Thus Metis, the wife of Jupiter, plainly signifies
counsel; Typhon, swelling; Pan, universality; Nemesis, revenge, &c.
Nor is it a wonder, if sometimes a piece of history or other things
are introduced, by way of ornament; or, if the times of the action are
confounded; or, if part of one fable be tacked to another; or, if the
allegory be new turned; for all this must necessarily happen, as the
fables were the inventions of men who lived in different ages, and had
different views; some of them being ancient, others more modern; some
having an eye to natural philosophy, and others to morality or civil
policy.
It may pass for a further indication of a concealed and secret meaning,
that some of these fables are so absurd and idle in their narration,
as to show and proclaim an allegory, even afar off. A fable that
carries probability with it may be supposed invented for pleasure, or
in imitation of history; but those that could never be conceived or
related in this way must surely have a different use. For example,
what a monstrous fiction is this, that Jupiter should take Metis to
wife, and as soon as he found her pregnant eat her up, whereby he also
conceived, and out of his head brought forth Pallas armed. Certainly no
mortal could, but for the sake of the moral it couches, invent such an
absurd dream as this, so much out of the road of thought!
But the argument of most weight with me is this, that many of these
fables by no means appear to have been invented by the persons who
relate and divulge them, whether Homer, Hesiod, or others; for if I
were assured they first flowed from those later times and authors that
transmit them to us, I should never expect any thing singularly great
or noble from such an origin. But whoever attentively considers the
thing, will find that these fables are delivered down and related by
those writers, not as matters then first invented and proposed, but
as things received and embraced in earlier ages. Besides, as they are
differently related by writers nearly of the same ages, it is easily
perceived that the relators drew from the common stock of ancient
tradition, and varied but in point of embellishment, which is their
own. And this principally raises my esteem of these fables, which I
receive, not as the product of the age, or invention of the poets, but
as sacred relics, gentle whispers, and the breath of better times,
that from the traditions of more ancient nations came, at length,
into the flutes and trumpets of the Greeks. But if any one shall,
notwithstanding this, contend that allegories are always adventitious,
or imposed upon the ancient fables, and no way native or genuinely
contained in them, we might here leave him undisturbed in that gravity
of judgment he affects (though we cannot help accounting it somewhat
dull and phlegmatic), and, if it were worth the trouble, proceed to
another kind of argument.
Men have proposed to answer two different and contrary ends by the
use of parable; for parables serve as well to instruct or illustrate
as to wrap up and envelop; so that though, for the present, we drop
the concealed use, and suppose the ancient fables to be vague,
undeterminate things, formed for amusement, still, the other use must
remain, and can never be given up. And every man, of any learning,
must readily allow that this method of instructing is grave, sober,
or exceedingly useful, and sometimes necessary in the sciences, as
it opens an easy and familiar passage to the human understanding,
in all new discoveries that are abstruse and out of the road of
vulgar opinions. Hence, in the first ages, when such inventions and
conclusions of the human reason as are now trite and common were
new and little known, all things abounded with fables, parables,
similes, comparisons, and allusions, which were not intended to
conceal, but to inform and teach, whilst the minds of men continued
rude and unpractised in matters of subtilty and speculation, or even
impatient, and in a manner incapable of receiving such things as did
not fall directly under and strike the senses. For as hieroglyphics
were in use before writing, so were parables in use before arguments.
And even to this day, if any man would let new light in upon the
human understanding, and conquer prejudice, without raising contests,
animosities, opposition, or disturbance, he must still go in the same
path, and have recourse to the like method of allegory, metaphor, and
allusion.
To conclude, the knowledge of the early ages was either great or happy;
great, if they by design made this use of trope and figure; happy,
if, whilst they had other views, they afforded matter and occasion to
such noble contemplations. Let either be the case, our pains, perhaps,
will not be misemployed, whether we illustrate antiquity or things
themselves.
The like, indeed, has been attempted by others; but, to speak
ingenuously, their great and voluminous labors have almost destroyed
the energy, the efficacy, and grace of the thing; whilst, being
unskilled in nature, and their learning no more than that of
commonplace, they have applied the sense of the parables to certain
general and vulgar matters, without reaching to their real purport,
genuine interpretation, and full depth. For myself, therefore, I expect
to appear new in these common things, because, leaving untouched such
as are sufficiently plain and open, I shall drive only at those that
are either deep or rich.
THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS.
A SERIES OF MYTHOLOGICAL FABLES.[616]
I.—CASSANDRA, OR DIVINATION.
EXPLAINED OF TOO FREE AND UNSEASONABLE ADVICE.
The poets relate, that Apollo, falling in love with Cassandra, was
still deluded and put off by her, yet fed with hopes, till she had got
from him the gift of prophesy; and, having now obtained her end, she
flatly rejected his suit. Apollo, unable to recall his rash gift, yet
enraged to be outwitted by a girl, annexed this penalty to it, that
though she should always prophesy true, she should never be believed;
whence her divinations were always slighted, even when she again and
again predicted the ruin of her country.
EXPLANATION.—This fable seems invented to express the insignificance
of unseasonable advice. For they who are conceited, stubborn, or
intractable, and listen not to the instructions of Apollo, the god of
harmony, so as to learn and observe the modulations and measures of
affairs, the sharps and flats of discourse, the difference between
judicious and vulgar ears, and the proper times of speech and silence,
let them be ever so intelligent, and ever so frank of their advice, or
their counsels ever so good and just, yet all their endeavors, either
of persuasion or force, are of little significance, and rather hasten
the ruin of those they advise. But, at last, when the calamitous event
has made the sufferers feel the effect of their neglect, they too late
reverence their advisers, as deep, foreseeing, and faithful prophets.
Of this, we have a remarkable instance in Cato of Utica, who discovered
afar off, and long foretold, the approaching ruin of his country,
both in the first conspiracy, and as it was prosecuted in the civil
war between Cæsar and Pompey, yet did no good the while, but rather
hurt the commonwealth, and hurried on its destruction, which Cicero
wisely observed in these words: “Cato, indeed, judges excellently, but
prejudices the state; for he speaks as in the commonwealth of Plato,
and not as in the dregs of Romulus.”
II.—TYPHON, OR A REBEL.
EXPLAINED OF REBELLION.
The fable runs, that Juno, enraged at Jupiter’s bringing forth Pallas
without her assistance, incessantly solicited all the gods and
goddesses, that she might produce without Jupiter; and having by
violence and importunity obtained the grant, she struck the earth, and
thence immediately sprung up Typhon, a huge and dreadful monster, whom
she committed to the nursing of a serpent. As soon as he was grown
up, this monster waged war on Jupiter, and taking him prisoner in the
battle, carried him away on his shoulders, into a remote and obscure
quarter; and there, cutting out the sinews of his hands and feet, he
bore them off, leaving Jupiter behind miserably maimed and mangled.
But Mercury afterwards stole these sinews from Typhon, and restored
them to Jupiter. Hence, recovering his strength, Jupiter again pursues
the monster; first wounds him with a stroke of his thunder, when
serpents arose from the blood of the wound; and now the monster being
dismayed, and taking to flight, Jupiter next darted Mount Ætna upon
him, and crushed him with the weight.
EXPLANATION.—This fable seems designed to express the various fates
of kings, and the turns that rebellions sometimes take, in kingdoms.
For princes may be justly esteemed married to their states, as Jupiter
to Juno; but it sometimes happens, that, being depraved by long
wielding of the sceptre, and growing tyrannical, they would engross
all to themselves, and, slighting the counsel of their senators and
nobles, conceive by themselves; that is, govern according to their own
arbitrary will and pleasure. This inflames the people, and makes them