By this it is manifest, that not only actions that have their beginning from covetousness, ambition, lust, or other appetites to the thing propounded; but also those that have their beginning from aversion, or fear of those consequences that follow the omission, are "voluntary actions."

The forms of speech by which the passions are expressed, are partly the same, and partly different from those, by which we express our thoughts. And first, generally all passions may be expressed "indicatively; as "I love," "] ," "I fear," "I joy," "I deliberate," "I will," "I command:" but some of them have particular expressions by themselves, which nevertheless are not affirmations, unless it be when they serve to make other inferences, besides that of the passion they proceed from. Deliberation is expressed "subjunctively;" which is a speech proper to signify suppositions, with their consequences: as, "if this be done, then this will follow;" and differs not from the language of reasoning, save that reasoning is in general words; but deliberation for the most part is of particulars. The language of desire, and aversion, is "imperative;" as "do this," "forbear that;" which when the party is obliged to do, or forbear, is "command;" otherwise "prayer; or else "counsel." The language of vain-glory, of indignation, pity and revengefulness,"optative: "but of the desire to know, there is a peculiar expression, called "interrogative; as, "what is it,' "when shall it," "how is it done,” and “why so?” other language of the passions I find none: for cursing, swearing, reviling, and the like, do not signify as speech; but as the actions of a tongue accustomed.

These forms of speech, I say, are expressions, or voluntary significations of our passions: but certain signs they be not; because they may be used arbitrarily, whether they that use them have such passions or not. The best signs of passions present, are either in the countenance, motions of the body, actions, and ends, or aims, which we otherwise know the man to have.

And because in deliberation, the appetites, and aversions, are raised by foresight of the good and evil consequences, and sequels of the action whereof we deliberate; the good or evil effect thereof dependeth on the foresight of a long chain of consequences, of which very seldom any man is able to see to the end. But for so far as a man seeth, if the good in those consequences be greater than the evil, the whole chain is that which writers call "apparent," or "seeming good.' And contrarily, when the evil exceedeth the good, the whole is "apparent," or "seeming evil :" so that he who hath by experience, or reason, the greatest and surest prospect of consequences, deliberates best himself; and is able when he will, to give the best counsel unto others.

"Continual success "in obtaining those things which a man from time to time desireth, that is to say, continual prospering, is that men call "felicity;" I mean the felicity of this life. For there is no such thing as perpetual tranquility of mind, while we live here; because life itself is but motion, and can never be without desire, nor without fear, no more than without sense. What kind of felicity God hath ordained to them that devoutly honour Him, a man shall no sooner know, than enjoy; being joys, that now are as incomprehensible as the word of school-men "beatifical vision" is unintelligible.

The form of speech whereby men signify their opinion of the goodness of anything, is "praise." That whereby they signify the power and greatness of anything, is " magnifying." And that whereby they signify the opinion they have of a man's felicity, is by the Greeks called parapioμós, for which we have no name in our tongue. And thus much is sufficient for the present purpose, to have been said of the "passions."

CHAPTER VII.

Of the Ends, or Resolutions of Discourse.

Of all "discourse," governed by desire of knowledge, there is at last an "end," either by attaining, or by giving over. And in the chain of discourse, wheresoever it be interrupted, there is an end for that time.

If the discourse be merely mental, it consisteth of thoughts that the thing will be, and will not be ; or that it has been, and has not been, alternately. So that wheresoever you break off the chain of a man's discourse, you leave him in a presumption of "it will be," or, "it will not be;" or, "it has been," or, "has not been," All which is " opinion." And that which is alternate appetite, in deliberating concerning good and evil; the same is alternate opinion, in the enquiry of the truth of "past," and "future." And as the last appetitc in deliberation, is called the "will," so the last opinion in search of the truth of past, and future, is called the "judgment," or (6 resolute " and "final sentence" of him that "discourseth." And as the whole chain of appetites alternate, in the question of good, or bad, is called "deliberation; so the whole chain of opinions alternate, in the question of true, or false, is called " doubt."

No discourse whatsoever can end in absolute knowledge of fact, past or to come. For, as for the knowledge of fact, it is originally sense; and ever after, memory. And for the knowledge of consequence, which I have said before is called science, it is not absolute, but conditional. No man can know by discourse, that this or that is, has been, or will be; which is to know absolutely; but only, that if this be, that is; if this has been, that has been ; if this shall be, that shall be; which is to know conditionally; and that not the consequence of one thing to another, but of one name of a thing to another name of the same thing.

And therefore, when the discourse is put into speech, and begins with the definitions of words, and proceeds by connection of the same into general affirmations, and of these again into syllogisms; the end or last sum is called the conclusion, aud the thought of the mind by it signified, is that conditional knowledge, or knowledge of the consequence of words, which is commonly called "science." But if the first ground of such discourse, be not definitions; or if the definitions be not rightly joined together into syllogisms, then the end or conclusion, is again "opinion," namely of the truth of somewhat said, though sometimes in absurd and senseless words, without possibility of being understood. When two or more men know of one and the same fact, they are said to be "conscious" of it one to another; which is as much as to know it together. And because such are fittest witnesses of the facts of one another, or of a third: it was, and ever will be, reputed a very evil act, for any man to speak against his " conscience : or to corrupt or force another so to do: insomuch that the plea of conscience has been always hearkened unto very diligently in all times. Afterwards, men made use of the same word metaphorically, for the knowledge of their own secret facts, and secret thoughts; and therefore it is rhetorically said, that the conscience is a thousand witnesses. And last of all, men vehemently in love with their own new opinions, though never so absurd, and obstinately bent to maintain them, gave those their opinions also that reverenced name of conscience, as if they would have it seem unlawful to change or speak against them; and so pretend to know they are true, when they know at most, but that they think so.

When a man's discourse beginneth not at definitions, it beginneth either

1

at some other contemplation of his own, and then it is still called opinion; or it beginneth at some saying of another, of whose ability to know the truth, and of whose honesty in not deceiving, he doubteth not: and then the discourse is not so much concerning the thing, as the person; and the resolution is called "belief," and "faith: ""faith," in the man, belief," both of the man, and of the truth of what he says. So that in belief are two opinions; one of the saying of the man, the other of his virtue. To "have faith in," or "trust to," or "believe a man," signify the same thing; namely, an opinion of the veracity of the man: but to "believe what is said," signifieth only an opinion of the truth of the saying. But we are to observe that this phrase, "I believe in," as also the Latin, credo in, and the Greek, πioтEνw ig, are never used but in the writings of divines. Instead of them, in other writings are put, "I believe him," "I trust him;" "I have faith in him; "I rely on him; " and in Latin credo illi, fido illi: and in Greek, TIOTEUW AUTW: and that this singularity of the ecclesiastic use of the word hath raised many disputes about the right object of the Christian faith.

But by believing in," as it is in the creed, is meant, not trust in the person but confession and acknowledgment of the doctrine. For not only Christians, but all manner of men do so believe in God, as to hold all for truth they hear him say, whether they understand it or not; which is all the faith and trust can possibly be had in any person whatsoever : but they do not all believe the doctrine of the creed.

From whence we may infer, that when we believe any saying whatsoever it be, to be true, from arguments taken, not from the thing itself, or from the principles of natural reason, but from the authority and good opinion we have of him that hath said it; then is the speaker, or person we believe in, or trust in, and whose word we take, the object of our faith, and the honour done in believing, is done to him only. And consequently, when we believe that the Scriptures are the word of God, having no immediate revelation from God Himself, our belief, faith, and trust is in the Church, whose word we take, and acquiesce therein, And they that believe that which a prophet relates unto them in the name of God, take the word of the prophet, do honour to him, and in him trust, and believe, touching the truth of what he relateth, whether he be a true or a false prophet. And so it is also with all other history. For if I should not believe all that is written by historians of the glorious acts of Alexander or Cæsar, I do not think the ghost of Alexander or Cæsar had any just cause to be offended, or anybody else, but the historian. If Livy say the gods made once a cow speak, and we believe it not, we distrust not God therein, but Livy. So that it is evident, that whatsoever we believe, upon no other reason than what is drawn from authority of men only, and their writings, whether they be sent from God or not, is faith in men only.

CHAPTER VIII.

Of the Virtues commonly called Intellectual, and their contrary Defects.

VIRTUE generally, in all sorts of subjects, is somewhat that is valued for eminence, and consisteth in comparison. For if all things were equal in all men, nothing would be prized. And by "virtues intellectual," are always understood such abilities of the mind as men praise, value, and desire should be in themselves; and go commonly under the name of a "good

wit;" though the same word "wit" be used also to distinguish one certain ability from the rest.

These "virtues" are of two sorts, "natural," and "acquired." By natural, I mean not that which a man hath from his birth: for that is nothing else but sense; wherein men differ so little one from another, and from brute beasts, as it is not to be reckoned amongst virtues. But I mean that “wit”which is gotten by use only and experience; without method, culture, or instruction. This natural wit" consisteth principally in two things, celerity of imagining," that is, swift succession of one thought to another, and steady direction to some approved end. On the contrary, a slow imagination maketh that defect, or fault of the mind which is commonly called "dulness," "stupidity," and sometimes by other names that signify slowness of motion, or difficulty to be moved.

66

66

The

And this difference of quickness, is caused by the difference of men's passions ; that love and dislike, some one thing, some another : and therefore some men's thoughts run one way, some another; and are held to, and observe differently the things that pass through their imagination. And whereas in this succession of men's thoughts, there is nothing to observe in the things they think on, but either in what they be "like one another," or in what they be "unlike," or "what they serve for," or "how they serve to such a purpose; " those that observe their similitudes, in case they be such as are but rarely observed by others, are said to have a good wit; by which, in this occasion, is meant a good fancy." But they that observe their differences and dissimilitudes: which is called "distinguishing," and "discerning," and "judging "between thing and thing; in case such discerning be not easy, are said to have a "good judgment:" and particularly in matter of conversation and business; wherein times, places, and persons are to be discerned, this virtue is called "discretion." former, that is, fancy, without the help of judgment, is not commended as a virtue but the latter, which is judgment, and discretion, is commended for itself, without the help of fancy. Besides the discretion of times, places, and persons, necessary to a good fancy, there is required also an often application of his thoughts to their end; that is to say, to some use to be made of them. This done; he that hath this virtue, will be easily fitted with similitudes that will please, not only by illustrations of his discourse, and adorning it with new and apt metaphors; but also, by the rarity of their invention. But without steadiness, and direction to some end, a great fancy is one kind of madness; such as they have, that entering into any discourse, are snatched from their purpose by everything that comes in their thought, into so many and so long digressions, and parentheses, that they utterly lose themselves: which kind of folly I know no particular name for; but the cause of it is, sometimes want of experience; whereby that seemeth to a man new and rare, which doth not so to others, sometimes pusillanimity; by which that seems great to him, which other men think a trifle : and whatsoever is new, or great, and therefore thought fit to be told, withdraws a man by degrees from the intended way of his discourse. In a good poem, whether it be "epic," or "dramatic; as also in "sonnets,' 99.66 epigrams," and other pieces, both judgmeut and fancy are required; but the fancy must be more eminent; because they please for the extravagancy; but ought not to displease by indiscretion.

دو

In a good history, the judgment must be eminent; because the goodness consisteth in the method, in the truth, and in the choice of the actions that are most profitable to be known. Fancy has no place, but only in adorning the style.

In orations of praise, and in invectives, the fancy is predominant; because the design is not truth, but to honour or dishonour; which is done by noble

or by vile comparisons. The judgment does but suggest what circumstances make an action laudable, or culpable.

In hortatives, and pleadings, as truth or disguise serveth best to the design in hand; so is the judgment or the fancy most required.

In demonstration, in counsel, and all rigorous search of truth, judgment does all, except sometimes the understanding have need to be opened by some apt similitude; and then there is so much use of fancy. But for metaphors, they are in this case uttery excluded. For seeing they openly profess deceit; to admit them into counsel or reasoning were manifest folly.

And in any discourse whatsoever, if the defect of discretion be apparent, how extravagant soever the fancy be, the whole discourse will be taken for a sign of want of wit; and so will it never when the discretion is manifest, though the fancy be never so ordinary.

The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, profane, clean, obscene, grave and light, without shame, or blame; which verbal discourse cannot do, farther than the judgment shall approve of the time, place, and persons. An anatomist or a physician may speak, or write his judgment of unclean things; because it is not to please, but profit: but for another man to write his extravagant and pleasant fancies of the same, is as if a man, from being tumbled into the dirt, should come and present himself before good company. And it is the want of discretion that makes the difference. Again, in professed remissness of mind, and familiar company, a man may play with the sounds and equivocal significations of words; and that many times with encounters of extraordinary fancy: but in a sermon, or in public, or before persons unknown, or whom we ought to reverence, there is no gingling of words that will not be accounted folly: and the difference is only in the want of discretion. So that where wit is wanting, it is not fancy that is wanting, but discretion. Judgment therefore without fancy is wit, but fancy without judgment, not.

When the thoughts of a man, that has a design in hand, running over a multitude of things, observes how they conduce to that design; or what design they may conduce unto; if his observations be such as are not easy, or usual, this wit of his is called "prudence;" and depends on much experience, and memory of the like things and their consequences hereto. fore. In which there is not so much difference of men, as there is in their fancies and judgment; because the experience of men equal in age, is not much unequal as to the quantity; but lies in different occasions; every one having his private designs. To govern well a family and a kingdom, are not different degrees of prudence; but different sorts of business; no more than to draw a picture in little, or as great, or greater than the life, are different degrees of art. A plain husbandman is more prudent in affairs of his own house, than a privy-councillor in the affairs of another man.

To prudence, if you add the use of unjust or dishonest means, such as usually are prompted to men by fear, or want; you have that crooked wisdom whch is called "craft;" which is a sign of pusillanimity. For magnanimity is contempt of unjust or dishonest helps. And that which the Latins call versutia, translated into English, "shifting," and is a putting off of a present danger or incommodity, by engaging into a greater, as when a man robs one to pay another, is but a shorter-sighted craft, called versutia, from versura, which signifies taking money at usury for the present payment of interest.

As for "acquired wit," I mean acquired by method and instruction, there is none but reason; which is grounded on the right use of speech, and produceth the sciences. But of reason and science I have already spoken, in the fifth and sixth chapters.