for couetousnes, go to begge of others those things whereof they haue no want at home. With this answer of M. Spensers it seemed that all the company were wel satisfied, for after some few speeches whereby they had shewed an extreme longing after his worke of the Fairie Queene, whereof some parcels had been by some of them seene, they all began to presse me to produce my translation mentioned by M. Spenser, that it might be perused among them; or else that I should (as near as I could) deliuer unto them the contents of the same, supposing that my memory would not much faile me in a thing so studied and aduisedly set downe in writing as a translation must be.1

Bryskett then proceeds to read his translation, which is interspersed with interruptions, and observations in reply by the author in his own person, which show wide knowledge and classical reading. He explains here and at the end of the book that he has used freedom in dealing with his original, omitting some things and adding others. In other words, he has constructed a treatise which represents his own philosophic views, and they are those which will be found in Bacon's acknowledged works. They are also couched in his style, with that attractiveness of style and sense of authority which is the special feature of his work in the region of intellectual thought.

The following extracts, with comments, are given in order to illustrate this view:

Of the child:

expedient that care be had to make him conceive a knowledge of that simple, pure and omnipotent nature, the most high and ever-living God. . . . For he that is void of religion, and of that feare of God, which is in effect but a due reverence unto his Majesty, can never in all the whole course of his life do anything worthy prayse or commendation.

We have already noted a similar habit of referring to the Deity by Spenser and Bacon.

There is a passage in the "second day" of unusual interest, in which it seems to me probable that Bacon is

1 The "u" used for "v" in the original has been retained in this

extract.

The passage

giving an account of his early education. has no point unless it is autobiographical, and regard being had to the facts ascertained about Bryskett the Irish official (as noted above), it obviously cannot apply to him. On the other hand, it would apply in every particular to the circumstances of Francis Bacon.

To a remark of Sir Robert Dillon, that the advancement of the child depended much on the care and diligence of the parents, Bryskett replies:

That is (said I) most true, and I can verifie it in myself; for such was my fathers care (who not only in the education of his children, but also in the ordering of his household, was second to no man of his degree that ever I knew) as before I was full five yeares of age, I had gone through mine Accidence, and was sent to schoole to Tunbridge, 20 miles from London, and if either the aire of the place, or some other disposition of my body had not hindered my health by a quartaine ague that tooke me there, I might have bin a forward scholer in my grammer at 6 yeres old, and have bin ready to have accompanied my learning with those corporall exercises which by some are set downe as fit to be used by children betweene the yeares of five and ten, as well to harden their bodies and to make them apt for the wars (if their disposition be thereunto) as for health. But by that unhappie

accident, not only the health and strength of my body, but my learning also met with a shrewd checke, which I could never sithens recover sufficiently. Neverthelesse as much as my father could performe, he omitted not to have me trained both to my booke and to other exercises agreeable to his calling and abilitie, following (as I suppose) such precepts as he had found set downe by some worthy authors treating of that matter. The exact forme of which education perhaps is hard to be observed, but by such as have together with a fatherly and vigilant care, wealth and meanes answerable to finde in their owne houses schoole-masters to instruct and fashion their children according to those rules and precepts. For by them, before the child attaine the age of 14 yeares, he should not only have learned his Grammer, but also Logike, Rhetorike, Musike, Poetrie, drawing and perspective, and be skillfull at his weapons, nimble to runne, to leape and to wrestle, as exercises necessary upon all occasions where fortitude is to be employed for the defence of his countrey and Prince, his friends, and of his faith and religion.

Here, it seems to me, is the precocious and delicate

child, the son of a father known for sagacity and wit, who had raised himself in the service of the State to a great position, and who desired to bring his youngest son up to the same calling. York House was his London residence, and it was there that Francis Bacon, as he tells us, was born. Tonbridge School was one of the new "free grammar schools" of the Reformation, and was the kind of school (where a liberal education was given) to which a man like Sir Nicolas Bacon would naturally send his son. It was founded in 1553 by Sir Andrew Judde, a merchant adventurer who acquired great wealth and became Lord Mayor of London. The school was conveyed in 1561, under the will of the founder, to the Skinners' Company, of which he was a member.1 The old school was pulled down, to make place for the present one, in the middle of the last century. The effect of the loss of young companionship and the discipline of school teaching which the writer regrets perhaps accounts, to some extent, for Bacon's lack of the "sensus communis" (to which I have before adverted) and for the looseness of scholarship which is noticeable in his writings. On the other hand, the illness here referred to evidently had the result of isolating the boy from his fellows, and giving his genius opportunities of a freer development than would have been possible at a school. This would account also for the very early age (twelve years and three months) at which Bacon was sent to Cambridge. He left the University in his fifteenth year, and thenceforward he educated himself. By the time he returned to England from France, when he was just eighteen, it is probable that he had a general acquaintance with continental as well as classical literature, and his extraordinary memory enabled him to use his reading without apparent effort. At first he is largely dominated by it and lets it appear in excess, but by degrees it becomes subservient to compositions of an entirely original and native type. In this view Shakespeare's lack of scholarship is seen to be more apparent

1 Rivington's History of Tonbridge School.

than real, and to arise largely from the indifference of the writer to historical accuracy, under a considered theory of art.

Bryskett brings a further charge of "obscurity against Aristotle, here again speaking in his own person, not as the "translator":

But before we enter into that matter you must understand that Plato and Aristotle have held a severall way each of them in their teaching. For Plato from things eternall descended to mortall things, and thence returned (as it were by the same way) from the earth to heaven againe; rather affirming than prooving what he taught. But Aristotle from earthly things (as most manifest to our senses) raised himselfe, climing to heavenly things, using the meane of that knowledge which the senses give, from which his opinion was that al humane knowledge does come. And where sensible reasons failed him, there failed his proofes also. Which thing, as it hapned to him in divine matters, so did it likewise in the knowledge of the soule intellective (as some of his interpreters say): which being created by God to his owne likenesse, he hath written so obscurely thereof, that his resolute opinion in that matter cannot be picked out of his writings.

The two following passages (spoken apparently in the author's own person) contain the same ideas as to the nature of the soul (adapted in a similar way from Aristotle) as those expressed by Bacon and Spenser :

For doubtlesse the vegetative and sensitive soules, which cannot use their vertues and operations but by meane of the body, die with the body. But the intellective soule, which is our onely true forme, not drawne from the materiall power, but created and sent into us by the divine majestie, dieth not with the body, but remaineth immortal and everlasting.

Let us therefore conclude with Aristotle that both the passable [ie. "the cogitative or imaginative"] and the possible understandings are vertues of the Intellective soule,1 insomuch as she is the particular and proper forme of every man, and that as a humane soule she is everlasting, impassable, not mingled with

1 The "possible" is the "intellective" from one point of view. The argument here is an attempt to show that Aristotle's doctrine did not imply the existence of "two severall soules" in man, "a manifest heresie as well in Philosophie as in Christianitie" (p. 276).

the bodie, but severed from the same, simple and divine, not drawne from any power of matter, but infused into us from abroade, not ingendred by seede: which being once freed from the bodie (because nature admitteth nothing that is idle) is altogether bent and intent to contemplation, being then (as Philosophers call it) actus purus, a pure understanding, not needing the bodie either as object or as a subject.

The following passage indicates the writer's view that true knowledge is only to be obtained through selfknowledge. This is, no doubt, a view of great antiquity, being an instinctive feeling which grows with spiritual development.1

Which things he weighing and considering, he reacheth not onely to the knowledge of himselfe but of other men also.

The thought is carried further in the following (spoken by the Lord Primate) as to the end of the soul:

The contemplation of his divine majestie, who is the onely true and perfect good and happinesse. The perfection of which divine majestie is the knowledge of himselfe ; and knowing himselfe to know all things by him created and produced.

Like Spenser, the writer denounces contemporary scribblers who profess to be poets, and he approves of Plato's suggestion that there should be a "magistracy" over their productions (p. 150):

Which regard if it were had nowadays, we should not see so many idle and profane toyes spred abroade by some that think the preposterous turning of phrases, and making of rime with little reason, to be an excellent kinde of writing, and fit to breed them fame and reputation. . . . But to men of judgement, and able to discerne the difference betweene well writing and presumptuous scribling, they minister matter of scorne and laughter.2

1 Compare, for instance, the following from the sayings of the ancient Chinese philosopher Lâo-tsze: "He who has a knowledge of other men is intelligent, he who has a knowledge of himself is enlightened."

2 Cf. pp. 8, 12, above. This passage contains a good example of that habit of quotation in Bacon alluded to in Chapter V., of distorting an author's meaning (whether intentionally or from carelessness) to suit his own argument: "For Plato condemned not Poesie, but onelie those Poets that abused so excellent a facultie, scribling either wanton toyes, or else by foolish imitation taking upon them to expresse high conceits which themselves understood not." See as to this at p. 147 above.