alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal work the better, but it ever baseth 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 enquired 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 as to say that he is brave toward 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.

REVENGE.

REVENGE is a kind of wild justice, which the more a man's nature runs to the more ought law to weed it out. For as for the first wrong, it doth but offend the law; but the revenge of that wrong putteth the law out of office.

Certainly, in taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy; but in passing it over, he is superior, for it is a prince's part to pardon; and Solomon saith, "It is the glory of a man to pass over an offence." That which is past is gone and irrevocable, and wise men have enough to do with things present and to come; therefore they do but trifle with themselves that trifle in past matters. There is no man doth a wrong for the wrong's sake, but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or honour, or the like. Therefore why should I be angry with a man for loving himself better than me? And if any man should do wrong merely of nature, why?

Yet it is but like the thorn or brier which prick and

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scratch because they can do no other. The most tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs which there is no law to remedy; but then let a man take heed the revenge be such as there is no law to punish; else a man's enemy is still beforehand, and it is two for one.

Some, when they take revenge, are desirous the party should know whence it cometh; this is the more generous. For the delight seemeth to be not so much in doing the hurt, as in making the party repent; but base and crafty cowards are like the arrow that flieth in the dark.

Cosmus, Duke of Florence, had a desperate saying against perfidious or neglecting friends, as if these wrongs were unpardonable. "You shall read," said he, "that we are commanded to forgive our enemies, but you never read we are commanded to forgive our friends."

"Shall

But the spirit of Job was in a better tune. we," saith he, "take good at God's hand, and not be content to take evil also." And so of friends in proportion. This is certain, that a man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well.

SUSPICION.

SUSPICIONS among thoughts are like bats among birds; they even fly by twilight. Certainly they are to be repressed, or at least well guarded, for they cloud the mind, they lose friends, and they check with business, whereby business cannot go on currently and constantly. They dispose kings to tyranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to irresolution and melancholy. They are defects not in the heart, but in the brain, for they take place in the stoutest nature, as in the example of Henry the Seventh of England, there was not a more suspicious man, nor a more stout. And in such a composition they do small hurt; for commonly they are not admitted without examination whether they be likely or no; but in fearful natures they gain ground fast.

There is nothing makes a man suspect more than to know little, and therefore men should remedy suspicion

by procuring to know more, and not keep their suspicions in smother.

What would men have? Do they think those they employ and deal with are saints? Do they think they will have their own ends, and be truer to themselves than to them? Therefore there is no better way to moderate suspicions than to account upon such suspicions as true, and yet to bridle them as false; for so far a man ought to make use of suspicions, as to provide, if that should be true which he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt.

Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers, are but buzzes; but suspicions that are artfully nourished and put into men's heads by the tales and whisperings of others, have stings. Certainly the best means to clear the way in this same wood of suspicion, is frankly to communicate them to the party that he suspects; for thereby he shall be sure to know more of the truth of them than he did before, and withal shall make that party more circumspect not to give further cause of suspicion. But this should not be done to men of base natures; for they, if they find themselves once suspected will never be true.

DISCOURSE.

SOME in their discourse desire rather commendation of wit in being able to hold all arguments, than of judgment in discovering what is true; as if it were a praise to know what might be said, and not what should be thought. Some have certain commonplaces and themes, wherein they are good but want variety; which kind of poverty is tedious, and when it is once perceived ridiculous.

The honourablest part of talk is to give the occasion, and again to moderate and pass to somewhat else, for then a man leads the dance. It is good in discourse and speech of conversation, to vary and intermingle speech of the present occasion with arguments; tales with reason; asking of questions with telling of opinions; and jest

with earnest; for it is a dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade anything too far.

As for jest there are certain things which ought to be privileged from it, as religion, matters of state, great persons, any man's present business of importance, and any case that deserveth pity. Yet there be some that think their wits have been asleep except they dart out somewhat that is piquant and to the quick; that is a view which would be bridled. And, generally, men ought to find the difference between saltness and bitterness. Certainly he that hath a satirical vein as he maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had need to be afraid of others' memory.

He that questioneth much shall learn much, and content much, but especially if he apply his questions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh; for he shall give them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and himself shall continually gather knowledge. But let not his questions be troublesome, for that is fit for a poser. And let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak. Nay, if there be any that would reign and take up all the time, let him find means to take them off, and to bring others on, as musicians used to do with those that dance too long galliards. If you dissemble sometimes your knowledge of that you are thought to know, you shall be thought another time to know that you know not. Speech of a man's self ought to be seldom and well chosen.

ADVERSITY.

It was a high speech of Seneca, after the manner of the Stoics, that "the good things which belong to prosperity are to be wished, but the good things which belong to adversity are to be admired." Certainly, if miracles be the command over nature, they appear most in adversity. It is yet a higher speech of his than the other, much too high for a heathen: "It is true greatness to have in one the frailty of a man and the security of a God." This would have done better in poesy, where

transcendencies are more allowed; and the poets, indeed, have been busy with it; for it is in effect the thing which is figured in that strange fiction of the ancient poets, which seemeth not to be without mystery; nay, and to have some appearance of approach to the state of a Christian, that Hercules when he went to unbind Prometheus (by whom human nature is represented), sailed the length of the great ocean in an earthen pot or pitcher, lively describing Christian resolution, that saileth in the frail bark of the flesh through the waves of the world.

But to speak in a mean, the virtue of prosperity is temperance, the virtue of adversity is fortitude, which in morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament, adversity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's favour. Yet, even in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as carols; and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in describing the afflictions of Job than the felicities of Solomon.

Prosperity is not without many fears and disasters, and adversity is not without comforts and hopes. We see in needle-works and embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground; judge, therefore, of the pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Certainly, virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when they are incensed or crushed; for prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best discover virtue.