BEACON’S ESSAYS
An introduction
Francis Bacon, 1st Viscount St. Alban, QC (/ˈbeɪkən/; 22 January
1561 –
9 April 1626), was an English philosopher,
statesman, scientist, jurist, orator, essayist, and author. He served both as Attorney
General and Lord Chancellor of England. After his death, he remained
extremely influential through his works, especially as philosophical advocate
and practitioner of the scientific method during the scientific revolution.
Bacon has been called the father of empiricism.
His works established and popularised inductive methodologies for scientific
inquiry, often called the Baconian method, or simply the scientific
method. His demand for a planned procedure of investigating all things natural
marked a new turn in the rhetorical and theoretical framework for science, much
of which still surrounds conceptions of proper methodology today.
Bacon was knighted in 1603 (being the
first scientist to receive a knighthood), and created Baron Verulam in 1618 and
Viscount St. Alban in 1621; as he
died without heirs, both peerages became extinct upon his death. He famously
died by contracting pneumonia while studying the effects of freezing on the
preservation of meat.
1. OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE [Text]
He that hath wife and
children hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great
enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of
greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless
men; which both in affection and means, have married and endowed the public.
Yet it were great reason that those that have children, should have greatest
care of future times; unto which they know they must transmit their dearest
pledges. Some there are, who though they lead a single life, yet their thoughts
do end with themselves, and account future times impertinences. Nay, there are
some other, that account wife and children, but as bills of charges. Nay more,
there are some foolish rich covetous men that take a pride, in having no
children, because they may be thought so much the richer. For perhaps they have
heard some talk, Such an one is a great rich man, and another except to it,
Yea, but he hath a great charge of children; as if it were an abatement to his
riches. But the most ordinary cause of a single life, is liberty, especially in
certain self-pleasing and humorous minds, which are so sensible of every
restraint, as they will go near to think their girdles and garters, to be bonds
and shackles. Unmarried men are best friends, best masters, best servants; but
not always best subjects; for they are light to run away; and almost all
fugitives, are of that condition. A single life doth well with churchmen; for
charity will hardly water the ground, where it must first fill a pool. It is
indifferent for judges and magistrates; for if they be facile and corrupt, you
shall have a servant, five times worse than a wife. For soldiers, I find the generals
commonly in their hortatives, put men in mind of their wives and children; and
I think the despising of marriage amongst the Turks, maketh the vulgar soldier
more base. Certainly wife and children are a kind of discipline of humanity;
and single men, though they may be many times more charitable, because their
means are less exhaust, yet, on the other side, they are more cruel and
hardhearted (good to make severe inquisitors), because their tenderness is not
so oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, and therefore constant, are
commonly loving husbands, as was said of Ulysses, vetulam suam praetulit
immortalitati. Chaste women are often proud and froward, as presuming upon the
merit of their chastity. It is one of the best bonds, both of chastity and
obedience, in the wife, if she think her husband wise; which she will never do,
if she find him jealous. Wives are young men's mistresses; companions for
middle age; and old men's nurses. So as a man may have a quarrel to marry, when
he will. But yet he was reputed one of the wise men, that made answer to the
question, when a man should marry,- A young man not yet, an elder man not at
all. It is often seen that bad husbands, have very good wives; whether it be,
that it raiseth the price of their husband's kindness, when it comes; or that
the wives take a pride in their patience. But this never fails, if the bad
husbands were of their own choosing, against their friends' consent; for then
they will be sure to make good their own folly.
2. OF TRUTH [Text]
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.
3. OF LOVE [Text]
The stage is more beholding to love, that the life of man. For as
to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies;
but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a
fury. You may observe, that amongst all the great and worthy persons (whereof
the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent) there is not one, that hath
been transported to the mad degree of love: which shows that great spirits, and
great business, do keep out this weak passion. You must except, nevertheless,
Marcus Antonius, the half partner of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius,
the decemvir and lawgiver; whereof the former was indeed a voluptuous man, and
inordinate; but the latter was an austere and wise man: and therefore it seems
(though rarely) that love can find entrance, not only into an open heart, but
also into a heart well fortified, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor
saying of Epicurus, Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus; as if man, made
for the contemplation of heaven, and all noble objects, should do nothing but
kneel before a little idol and make himself a subject, though not of the mouth
(as beasts are), yet of the eye; which was given him for higher purposes. It is
a strange thing, to note the excess of this passion, and how it braves the nature, and value
of things, by this; that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole, is comely in
nothing but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas it hath
been well said, that the arch-flatterer, with whom all the petty flatterers
have intelligence, is a man's self; certainly the lover is more. For there was
never proud man thought so absurdly well of himself, as the lover doth of the
person loved; and therefore it was well said, That it is impossible to love,
and to be wise. Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and not to
the party loved; but to the loved most of all, except the love be reciproque.
For it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded, either with the reciproque,
or with an inward and secret contempt. By how much the more, men ought to
beware of this passion, which loseth not only other things, but itself! As for
the other losses, the poet's relation doth well figure them: that he that
preferred Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno
and Pallas. For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection, quitteth
both riches and wisdom. This passion hath his floods, in very times of
weakness; which are great prosperity, and great adversity; though this latter
hath been less observed: both which times kindle love, and make it more
fervent, and therefore show it to be the child of folly. They do best, who if
they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarters; and sever it wholly from
their serious affairs, and actions, of life; for if it check once with
business, it troubleth men's fortunes, and maketh men, that they can no ways be
true to their own ends. I know not how, but martial men are given to love: I
think, it is but as they are given to wine; for perils commonly ask to be paid
in pleasures. There is in man's nature, a secret inclination and motion,
towards love of others, which if it be not spent upon some one or a few, doth
naturally spread itself towards many, and maketh men become humane and
charitable; as it is seen sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind;
friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth, and embaseth it.
4. OF PLANTATIONS [Text]
Plantations are amongst ancient, primitive, and heroical works.
When the world was young, it begat more children; but now it is old, it begets
fewer: for I may justly account new plantations, to be the children of former
kingdoms. I like a plantation in a pure soil; that is, where people are not
displanted, to the end, to plant in others. For else it is rather an
extirpation, than a plantation. Planting of countries, is like planting of
woods; for you must make account to leese almost twenty years'profit, and expect
your recompense in the end. For the principal thing, that hath been the
destruction of most plantations, hath been the base and hasty drawing of
profit, in the first years. It is true, speedy profit is not to be neglected,
as far as may stand with the good of the plantation, but no further. It is a
shameful and unblessed thing, to take the scum of people, and wicked condemned
men, to be the people with whom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileth the
plantation; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be
lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and then
certify over to their country, to the discredit of the plantation. The people
wherewith you plant ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, laborers, smiths, carpenters,
joiners, fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries, surgeons, cooks, and
bakers. In a country of plantation, first look about, what kind of victual the
country yields of itself to hand; as chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples, olives,
dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the like; and make use of them. Then
consider what victual or esculent things there are, which grow speedily, and
within the year; as parsnips, carrots, turnips, onions, radish, artichokes of
Hierusalem, maize, and the like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they ask too much
labor; but with pease and beans you may begin, both because they ask less
labor, and because they serve for meat, as well as for bread. And of rice,
likewise cometh a great increase, and it is a kind of meat. Above all, there
ought to be brought store of biscuit, oat-meal, flour, meal, and the like, in
the beginning, till bread may be had. For beasts, or birds, take chiefly such
as are least subject to diseases, and multiply fastest; as swine, goats, cocks,
hens, turkeys, geese, house-doves, and the like. The victual in plantations,
ought to be expended almost as in a besieged town; that is, with certain
allowance. And let the main part of the ground, employed to gardens or corn, be
to a common stock; and to be laid in, and stored up, and then delivered out in
proportion; besides some spots of ground, that any particular person will
manure for his own private. Consider likewise what commodities, the soil where
the plantation is, doth naturally yield, that they may some way help to defray
the charge of the plantation (so it be not, as was said, to the untimely
prejudice of the main business), as it hath fared with tobacco in Virginia.
Wood commonly aboundeth but too much; and therefore timber is fit to be one. If
there be iron ore, and streams whereupon to set the mills, iron is a brave commodity where wood
aboundeth. Making of bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, would be put in
experience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is a likely commodity. Pitch and
tar, where store of firs and pines are, will not fail. So drugs and sweet
woods, where they are, cannot but yield great profit. Soap-ashes likewise, and
other things that may be thought of. But moil not too much under ground; for
the hope of mines is very uncertain, and useth to make the planters lazy, in
other things. For government, let it be in the hands of one, assisted with some
counsel; and let them have commission to exercise martial laws, with some
limitation. And above all, let men make that profit, of being in the
wilderness, as they have God always, and his service, before their eyes. Let
not the government of the plantation, depend upon too many counsellors, and
undertakers, in the country that planteth, but upon a temperate number; and let
those be rather noblemen and gentlemen, than merchants; for they look ever to
the present gain. Let there be freedom from custom, till the plantation be of
strength; and not only freedom from custom, but freedom to carry their
commodities, where they may make their best of them, except there be some
special cause of caution. Cram not in people, by sending too fast company after
company; but rather harken how they waste, and send supplies proportionably;
but so, as the number may live well in the plantation, and not by surcharge be
in penury. It hath been a great endangering to the health of some plantations,
that they have built along the sea and rivers, in marish and unwholesome
grounds. Therefore, though you begin there, to avoid carriage and like
discommodities, yet build still rather upwards from the streams, than along. It
concerneth likewise the health of the plantation, that they have good store of
salt with them, that they may use it in their victuals, when it shall be
necessary. If you plant where savages are, do not only entertain them, with
trifles and gingles, but use them justly and graciously, with sufficient guard
nevertheless; and do not win their favor, by helping them to invade their
enemies, but for their defence it is not amiss; and send oft of them, over to
the country that plants, that they may see a better condition than their own,
and commend it when they return. When the plantation grows to strength, then it
is time to plant with women, as well as with men; that the plantation may
spread into generations, and not be ever pieced from without. It is the
sinfullest thing in the world, to forsake or destitute a plantation once in
forwardness; for besides the dishonor, it is the guiltiness of blood of many
commiserable persons.
ANALYSIS “OF
TRUTH”
As a pragmatic and as an empirical
thinker Bacon subscribed to the fundamental Renaissance ideals—Sepantia (search
for knowledge) and Eloquentia (the art of rhetoric). Here in the essay Of Truth
he supplements his search for truth by going back to the theories of the
classical thinkers and also by taking out analogies from everyday life. It is
to be noted here that his explication of the theme is impassioned and he
succeeds in providing almost neutral judgements on the matter. Again, it is
seen that Bacon’s last essays, though written in the same aphoristic manner,
stylistically are different in that he supplied more analogies and examples to
support or explain his arguments. As this essay belongs to the latter group, we
find ample analogies and examples. Bacon, while explaining the reasons as to
why people evade truth, talks of the Greek philosophical school of sceptics,
set up by Pyrro. Those philosophers would question the validity of truth and
constantly change their opinions. Bacon says that now people are like those
philosophers with the important difference that they lack their force and
tenacity of argument. He says that like him the Greek philosopher Lucian was
equally puzzled at the fact that people are more attracted to lies and are
averse to truth. Bacon is surprised by the fact that people are loathed to find
out or even acknowledge truth in life. It seems to him that this is an innate
human tendency to do so. He finds evidence in support of his arguments in the
behaviour of the ancient Greek sceptics who used to question the validity of
truth and would have no fixed beliefs. Bacon thinks that people behave like
those philosophers. But he understands that they lack their strength of
arguments. He then finds the Greek philosopher Lucian, while considering the
matter, was equally baffled. Lucian investigated and found that poets like lies
because those provides pleasure, and that businessmen have to tell lies for
making profit. But he could not come to a definite conclusion as to why people
should love lies. Bacon says that men love falsehood because truth is like the
bright light of the day and would show up pomp and splendour of human life for
what they are. They look attractive and colourful in the dim light of lies. Men
prefer to cherish illusions, which make life more interesting. Bacon here gives
an interesting analogy of truth and falsehood. He says that the value of truth
is like that of a pearl, which shines best in the day-light, while a lie is
like a diamond or carbuncle, which shines best producing varied rays in dim
light of candles. He comes to the conclusion that people love falsehood because
it produces imaginary pleasure about life. Bacon also examines the statement of
one of the early Church authorities, which severely condemned poetry as the
wine of the devils. Bacon here shows that even the highest art of man—poetry,
is composed of lies. He seems to have compounded the two statements made by two
early Christian thinkers. He agrees with St
Augustine who criticized poetry as “the wine
of error”, and with Hironymous, who condemned poetry as “the food of demons”.
The equation is that, since the devil or Satan works by falsehood, lies are its
food. Poetry tends to be Satanic because it resorts to falsehood while
producing artistic pleasure. Bacon, however, makes a distinction here between
poetic untruth and fascination with falsehood in everyday life. He thinks that
poetic untruth is not harmful, as it does not leave lasting impressions on the
mind and character of a person. On the other hand, the lies, which are embedded
in the mind and control and regulate every thought and action of a person, are
harmful. Bacon refers to the Epicurean doctrine of pleasure, beautifully
expressed by the famous poet of that school, Lucretius, who considered the
realization of truth to be the highest pleasure of life. Bacon says that the
value of truth is understood by those who have experienced it. The inquiry,
knowledge and the belief of truth are the highest achievements that human
beings can pursue. He amplifies the matter by giving an analogy from the Bible.
According to him, God created the light of the senses first so that men could
see the world around them. The last thing he created, according to him, was the
light of reason, that is, the rational faculty. Bacon here interestingly
comments that, since he finished the work of Creation, God has been diffusing
the light of His spirit in mankind. He supports his argument by referring to
the Epicurean theory of pleasure beautifully expressed by Lucretius who held
that there is no greater pleasure than that given by the realization of truth.
The summit of truth cannot be conquered and there is tranquillity on this peak
from which one can survey the errors and follies of men as they go through
their trials; but this survey should not fill the watcher with pity and not
with pride. The essence of heavenly life on this earth lies in the constant
love of charity, an unshakable trust in God, and steady allegiance to truth. At
the concluding section of the essay Bacon explains the value of truth in civil
affairs of life. He is conscious of the fact that civil life goes on with both
truth and falsehood. He feels that the mixture of falsehood with truth may
sometimes turn out to be profitable. But it shows the inferiority of the man
who entertains it. This is, he says, like the composition of an alloy, which is
stronger but inferior in purity. He then compares this kind of way of life to
that of a serpent, which is a symbol of Satan itself. Bacon finds a striking
similarity between the crooked and mean devices adopted by people and the
zigzag movements of a serpent. To clarify his point more clearly, Bacon quotes
Montaigne who said that a man, who tells lies, is afraid of his fellow men but
is unafraid of God who is all perceiving. Bacon concludes his arguments by
saying that falsehood is the height of wickedness, and such that it will invite
the wrath of God on Doomsday.
Analysis “Of
Marriage and single Life”
One of the advantages of
reading great authors of earlier eras is that you get perspectives that don’t
square with party lines we’re fed today by dominant cultural forces in the mass
media, corporate world, and political classes. With respect to marriage, what
we’re told today is that marriage is all about romantic love, it exists for
companionship, and it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with children.
Corollaries to this reasoning include the mainstreaming of the single-parent
household, no-fault divorce, and homosexual marriage.
When Francis Bacon ruminates
on marriage and single life, he clearly operates from a different frame of
reference. For example, he assumes that children are part of the deal when one
marries. He recognizes this as a trade-off; the married man must defer
gratification and sacrifice for the future:
It were great reason that
those that have children should have greatest care of future times; unto which
they know they must transmit their dearest pledges. Some there are, who though
they lead a single life, yet their thoughts do end with themselves, and account
future times impertinences. . . . The most ordinary cause of a single life is
liberty.
He that hath wife and
children hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great
enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of
greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless
men; which both in affection and means have married and endowed the public.
These observations should be
fairly intuitive to most people. Just as St. Paul noted that family
responsibilities prevent one from devoting oneself fully to the work of the Kingdom,
Bacon recognizes the investment of finite time and energy into one’s family
necessarily leaves less of those things for one’s career or calling. He echoes St. Paul on the clergy: “A single
life doth well with churchmen; for charity will hardly water the ground where
it must first fill a pool.”
Certainly wife and children
are a kind of discipline of humanity; and single men, though they may be many
times more charitable, because their means are less exhaust, yet, on the other
side, they are more cruel and hardhearted (good to make severe inquisitors),
because their tenderness is not so oft called upon.
“Childless by
choice” folks won’t like Bacon:
There are some other that
account wife and children but as bills of charges. Nay more, there are some
foolish rich covetous men, that take a pride in having no children, because
they may be thought so much the richer.
Bacon assumes a patriarchal
model in marriage, but also notes that many wives have a character superior to
that of their husbands. So there’s something for everyone here.
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