cacy and contentment to the mind of man, which the poet describeth elegantly. 'It is a view of delight,' saith he, 'to stand or to walk upon the shore side, and to see a ship tossed with tempest upon the sea; or to be in a fortified tower, and to see two battles join upon a plain; but it is a pleasure incomparable for the mind of man to be settled, landed and fortified in the certainty of truth, and from thence to descry and behold the errors, perturbations, labours and wanderings up and down of other men.'

LORD BACON

211. GOD THE ONLY REWARDER AND PUNISHER OF SECRET ACTIONS.

Rewards and punishments are not received, but at the hands of such as being above us have power to examine and judge our deeds. How men come to have this authority over one another in external actions, we shall more diligently examine in that which followeth. But for this present, so much all do acknowledge, that sith every man's heart and conscience doth in good or evil, even secretly committed and known to none but itself, either like or disallow itself, and accordingly either rejoice, very nature exulting (as it were) in certain hope of reward, or else grieve (as it were) in a sense of future punishment; neither of which can in this case be looked for from any other, saving only from Him who discerneth and judgeth the very secrets of all hearts: therefore He is the only rewarder and revenger of all such actions; although not of such actions only, but of all whereby the Law of Nature is broken whereof Himself is author. For which cause, the Roman laws, called The Laws of the Twelve Tables, requiring offices of inward affection which the eye of man cannot reach unto, threaten the neglecters of them with none but divine punishment.

212.

ESTABLISHMENT OF ORDER IN TOWNS EARLIER

THAN IN THE COUNTRY. Order and good government, and along with them the liberty and security of individuals, were, in this manner, established in cities, at a time when the occupiers of land in the country were exposed to every sort of violence. But men in this defenceless state naturally content themselves with their necessary subsistence; because to acquire more might only tempt the injustice of their op

pressors. On the contrary, when they are secure of enjoying the fruits of their industry, they naturally exert it to better their condition and to acquire not only the necessaries but the conveniences and elegancies of life. That industry, therefore, which aims at something more than necessary subsistence, was established in cities long before it was commonly practised by the occupiers of land in the country. If in the hands of a poor cultivator, oppressed with the servitude of villanage, some little stock should accumulate, he would naturally conceal it with great care from his master, to whom it would otherwise have belonged, and take the first opportunity of running away to a town. The law was at that time so indulgent to the inhabitants of towns, and so desirous of diminishing the authority of the lords over those of the country, that if he could conceal himself for a year he was free for ever. Whatever stock, therefore, accumulated in the hands of the industrious part of the inhabitants of the country, naturally took refuge in cities, as the only sanctuaries in which it could be secure to the person that acquired it.

213. GOD'S PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. With regard to God's general Providence, he that shall observe the strange detections of mischief, both that which is designed, and that which has been committed; the restraints, disappointments, and exemplary punishments of oppression and injustice, and all wickedness, when it grows outrageous and exorbitant; the supports, encouragements, and seasonable vindications (often by unexpected means) of innocence and goodness; the maintenance of such rules and orders in the world, that notwithstanding the irregularity and violence of men's passions, they commonly shift to live tolerably in peace and safety; the so many poor, weak and helpless people, among so many crafty, malicious and greedy ones, being competently provided for; these, I say, and other such occurrences in the world, he that shall consider wisely, may discern the hand of a wise and good Providence watching over human affairs. But for particular Providence, I appeal to most men, especially to those who have ever had any fear of God, or sense of goodness; if sometime or other in their lives they have not in their needs found help and comfort conveyed to them by an indiscernible hand; if they have not, sometimes in an unaccountable manner, escaped grievous dangers; if they

have not experienced, in performance of their duty and devotion towards God, a comfort extraordinary. And if God's goodness may be felt and seen by us, then is our own experience an argument for His existence; which indeed it is to all good men, (for whose comfort and confirmation I mention it,) though it is not likely to have much influence upon those that have driven God's presence out of their souls; except they have so much ingenuity as to believe others' testimony, who assert this great truth to them from their own inward conscience and experience.

214. THE VIRTUE OF MODERATION. In all changes in the state, moderation is a virtue, not only amiable but powerful. It is a disposing, arranging, conciliating, cementing virtue. In the formation of new constitutions, it is in its province. Great powers reside in those who can make great changes. Their own moderation is their only check; and if this virtue is not paramount in their minds, their acts will taste more of their power, than of their wisdom or their benevolence. Whatever they do will be in extremes; it will be crude, harsh, precipitate. It will be submitted to with grudging and reluctance. Revenge will be smothered and hoarded, and the duration of schemes marked in that temper will be as precarious as their establishment was odious. This virtue of moderation (which times and situations will clearly distinguish from the counterfeits of pusillanimity and indecision) is the virtue only of superior minds. It requires a deep courage, and full of reflection, to be temperate when the voice of multitudes passes judgment against you. The impetuous desire of an unthinking public will endure no course, but what conducts to splendid and perilous extremes. Then to dare to be fearful, when all about you are full of presumption and confidence, and when those who are bold at the hazard of others would punish your caution and disaffection, is to shew a mind prepared for its trial; it discovers, in the midst of general levity, a self-possessing and collected character, which sooner or later bids fair to attract every thing to it, as to a

centre.

215. INSENSIBILITY TO THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE. When I consider things in this light, methinks it is a sort of

impiety to pay no attention to the course of nature, and the revolutions of the heavenly bodies. To be regardless of those phenomena that are placed within our view, on purpose (as it were) to entertain our faculties and display the wisdom and power of our Creator, is an affront to Providence of the same kind (I hope it be not impious to make such a simile) as it would be to a good poet to sit out his play without minding the plot or beauties of it. And yet how few are there who do attend to the drama of nature, its artificial structure, and those admirable scenes whereby the passions of a philosopher are gratefully agitated and his soul affected with the sweet emotions of joy and surprise!

TATLER

216. HAPPINESS OF ACTION. None whose desires are rightly ordered would wish to live, to breathe and move, without performance of those actions which are beseeming man's excellency. Wherefore having not how to employ it we wax weary even of life itself. Health is precious because sickness doth breed that pain which disableth action. Again why do men delight so much in the multitude of friends, but for that the actions of life being many do need many helping hands to further them? Between troublesome and quiet days we should make no difference if the one did not hinder and interrupt, the other uphold our liberty of action. Furthermore if those things we do, succeed, it rejoiceth us not so much for the benefit we thereby reap as in that it probably argueth our actions to have been orderly and well guided. As for riches, to him which hath and doth nothing with them they are a contumely. Honour is commonly presumed a sign of more than ordinary virtue and merit, by means whereof when ambitious minds thirst after it, their endeavours are testimonies how much it is in the eye of nature to possess that body the very shadow whereof is set at so high a rate.

217. MODERN WANT OF SINCERITY IN CONVERSATION. Amongst too many other instances of the great corruption and degeneracy of the age wherein we live, the great and general want of sincerity in conversation is none of the least. The world is grown so full of dissimulation and compliment, that men's words are hardly any signification of

their thoughts; and if any man measure his words by his heart, and speak as he thinks, and do not express more kindness to every man than men usually have for any man, he can hardly escape the censure of want of breeding. The old English plainness and sincerity-that generous integrity of nature and honesty of disposition, which always argues true greatness of mind and is usually accompanied with undaunted courage and resolution, is in a great measure lost amongst us. There hath been a long endeavour to transform us into foreign manners and fashions, and to bring us to a servile imitation of none of the best of our neighbours, in some of the worst of their qualities. The dialect of conversation is now-a-days so swelled with vanity and compliment, and so surfeited (as I may say) of expressions of kindness and respect, that if a man that lived an age or two ago should return into the world again, he would really want a dictionary to help him to understand his own language, and to know the true intrinsic value of the phrase in fashion-and would hardly at first believe at what a low rate the highest strains and expressions of kindness imaginable do commonly pass in current payment: and when he should come to understand it, it would be a great while before he could bring himself with a good countenance and a good conscience to converse with men upon equal terms and in their own way.

218. CONCEALMENT OF KING CHARLES AT BOSCOBEL, A.D. 1651. The man had dignity of sentiments much above his condition; and though death was denounced against all who concealed the king and a great reward promised to any one who should betray him, he professed and maintained unshaken fidelity. He took the assistance of his four brothers equally honourable with himself: and having clothed the king in a garb like their own they led him into the neighbouring wood, put a bill into his hand, and pretended to employ themselves in cutting faggots. Some nights he lay upon straw in the house, and fed on such homely fare as it afforded. For a better concealment he mounted upon an oak, where he sheltered himself among the leaves and branches for twenty-four hours. He saw several soldiers pass by. All of them were intent in search of the king, and some expressed in his hearing their earnest wishes of seizing