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Salomon inquit, nomen bonum est instar unguenti fragrantis et pretiosi, neque dubito, quin tale futurum sit nomen tuum apud posteros. Etenim et fortuna et merita tua praecelluerunt, et videris ea plantasse, quae sint duratura. In lucem iam edere mihi visum est Delibationes meas, quae ex omnibus meis operibus fuerunt acceptissimae, quia forsitan videntur prae ceteris hominum negotia stringere, et in sinus fluere.
Solomon says, a good name is like a fragrant and precious unguent; nor do I doubt that such will be your name among posterity. For both fortune and your merits have excelled, and you seem to have planted those things which are to be enduring. It has now seemed good to me to bring into the light my Delibations, which, of all my works, have been the most acceptable, because perhaps they seem, before the rest, to touch closely the affairs of men, and to flow into the bosom.
I have augmented them both in number and in weight to such a degree that they are plainly a new work. I have therefore judged it consonant with my affection and obligation toward your most illustrious Lordship to prefix your name to it, both in the English edition and the Latin. For I am in good hope that a volume of them translated into Latin (the universal tongue, namely) may endure as long as books and letters endure.
I dedicated my Instauration to the king, the History of the Reign of Henry VII (which I also translated into Latin), and my portions of Natural History to the prince. But these Delibations I dedicate to your most illustrious lordship, since they are among the choicest fruits which, with divine grace indulging the labors of my pen, I was able to present. May God lead your most illustrious lordship by the hand.
1. Quid est veritas? inquit Pilatus derisor, nec praestolari voluit reponsum. Certe sunt qui cogitationum vertigine delectantur, ac pro servitute habent fide fixa aut axiomatis constantibus constringi, liberi arbitrii usum in cogitando non minus quam in agendo affectantes.
1. What is truth? says Pilate the derider, nor did he wish to wait for an answer. Certainly there are those who take delight in the vertigo of cogitations, and who hold it to be servitude to be constrained by fixed faith or by constant axioms, aiming at the use of free will in thinking no less than in acting.
Although sects of philosophers of this sort have indeed failed, there nevertheless remain certain windy and discursive wits, in whom the very same veins are filled, though not with a supply of blood equal to that of the ancients. But neither the mere difficulty and labor which men undergo in finding truth, nor the captivity imposed upon thoughts once it is found, conciliate favor to lies, but rather the natural (however corrupted) love of mendacity itself. From the more recent school of the Greeks someone, calling the matter to examination, stands astonished while he cannot devise to what end mortals would love a lie for the lie’s own sake, since it is neither for pleasure, like the lies of the poets, nor for utility, like those of merchants.
But somehow—I know not how. This truth (as being the naked and manifest light of day) does not display the masked fables and inanities of this world so magnificently and elegantly as do nocturnal torches and lamps. Perhaps truth may attain to the value of a pearl, which by day appears most beautiful.
But to the price of adamant or of carbuncle, which shine most beautifully with variegated light, it will never ascend. A mixture of mendacity always augments delectation. Does anyone doubt that, if from the minds of men vain opinions, bland hopes, false estimations of things, imaginations at pleasure, and other things of that kind were removed, the spirits of many would be left dejected and withered, full of black bile and languor, and ungrateful and displeased with themselves?
One of the Fathers, with great severity, calls poetry the wine of demons, because it fills phantasy with vain things, although poetry is only the shadow of a lie. Nevertheless, it is not the lie passing through the mind that harms, but the lie that is imbibed by the mind, namely the sort of which we spoke above. But however these things stand in the depraved judgments and affections of men, truth nevertheless (by which alone it judges itself) teaches the inquiry of truth, which, like a suitor, wins her; the cognition of truth, which sets her as present; and the reception of truth with assent, which is the fruition and embrace of her—and the highest good of human nature.
2. Prima in operibus sex dierum creatura Dei fuit lux sensus, postrema lux rationis, quin et opus eius Sabbatho, quod deinceps perpetuo exercet, est spiritus sui illuminatio. Primo inspiravit lumen in faciem materiae vel molis indigestae; postea in faciem hominis; quin et usque semper lucem inspirat in faciem electorum. Poeta, qui sectam alioqui caeteris inferiorem ornavit, elegantissime dixit, suave est in litore stanti videre naves fluctibus exagitatas.
2. The first, in the works of the six days, of God’s creation was the light of sense, the last the light of reason; nay even his work on the Sabbath, which thenceforward he perpetually exercises, is the illumination of his spirit. At first he inspired light upon the face of matter or of the indigested mass; afterwards upon the face of man; and nay even unto this day he ever inspires light upon the face of the elect. The poet, who adorned a sect otherwise inferior to the rest, said most elegantly, it is sweet for one standing on the shore to see ships harried by the waves.
It is sweet for one standing at a citadel’s window to behold a battle joined and its various outcomes below. But no pleasure can be equated to this very one, namely, that one should stand upon the lofty slope of truth (a hill indeed inaccessible, where the air is always limpid and serene), and from there look down on errors, men wandering, the caliginous mists, and the tempests in the valley lying beneath—provided that this prospect is conjoined with mercy, not with fear or pride. And this very thing is to enjoy heaven on earth, when the human mind is moved in charity, rests in providence, and is borne around above the poles of truth.
3. Iam vero, ut a theologica et philosophica veritate ad veritatem aut potius veracitatem in civibus negotiis transeamus, agnoscent vel ipsi qui eam non exercent apertam et minime fucatam in negotiis gerendis rationem praecipuum esse humanae naturae decus; mixturam autem falsi similem esse plumbeae materiae, quae efficit sane ut facilius cudi possit metallum, sed ita ut interim vilius fiat. Nam flexuosi isti et obliqui motus serpentum sunt, qui super ventrem suum gradiuntur, non pedibus incedunt. Non est vitium quod tanto hominem pudore obruit, quam si falsus vir perfidus inveniatur.
3. Now indeed, that we may pass from theological and philosophical truth to truth, or rather veracity, in civic affairs, even those who do not practice it will acknowledge that an open and least painted-over (unvarnished) manner of reason in conducting affairs is the chief ornament of human nature; but that a mixture of falsehood is like leaden material, which indeed makes the metal more easily wrought, yet in the meantime makes it baser. For those flexuous and oblique motions are of serpents, who go upon their belly, not walking with feet. There is no vice that overwhelms a man with so much shame as to be found a false, perfidious man.
Therefore, most acutely, Montaigne, having scrutinized the reason why the term “lying” is held as so great an opprobrium and contumely, if the matter be rightly weighed (he says), he who says that a man lies by the same act says that he is bold against God, timid toward men. For the liar insults God; to man he bends himself. Surely how flagitious a thing falsehood and perfidy is can in no way be expressed better than that by these (as if by last outcries) the judgments of God will be called down upon the human race.
1. Metuunt homines mortem, ut pueri tenebras. Quemadmodum autem metus in pueris augeretur fabulosis quibusdam terriculamentis, ita et ille alter. Sane mortis meditatio, prout mors stipendium est peccati, et ad aliam vitam transitus, pia est et salubris.
1. Men fear death, as boys do the darkness. And just as fear in boys is heightened by certain fabulous bugbears, so too is that other. Truly, the meditation on death, insofar as death is the wages of sin and a passage to another life, is pious and salutary.
But the fear of it, since it is nature’s due, is a weak and vain thing. Yet there is sometimes, within pious meditations, some leaven of vanity, and also of superstition. It is prescribed in certain books of religious who treat of mortification, that a man should reflect with himself how great the pain is when even the least joint of a finger is wracked, and from that let him estimate how great the cruciation is in death, where the whole body is corrupted and dissolved—although death very often passes with less pain than is felt in the torture of a single member.
For the parts most vital are not the most sensitive. Nor was it said without point by the one who spoke as a philosopher only and a natural man, that the pomp of death frightens more than death itself. Groans and sobs, convulsions of the limbs, pallor of the face, friends weeping and black-draped funerals, with the like, these are the things that display death as terrible.
It is plainly worthy of observation that there is no passion of the mind so feeble that it does not overcome and reduce to order the fear of death. And therefore death is not an enemy so formidable, since man has so many athletes around him who in the contest conquer it. Vengeance triumphs over death; love makes little of it; honor aspires to it; fear of ignominy chooses it; grief flees to it; fear anticipates it.
Indeed we read that after Emperor Otho had killed himself, mercy itself (which is the tenderest of all affections) provoked many to die together out of pure compassion of mind toward their lord, as most faithful adherents. Nay more, Seneca also adds disgust and satiety: consider how long you have been doing the same things. To wish to die can belong not only to the brave or the wretched, but even to the fastidious.
No less worthy of observation is how very small a mutation approaching death is able to effect in a generous and brave mind: for those men bear the same spirits right up to the final moment. Augustus Caesar died with a voice certainly urbane: “Livia, mindful of our marriage, live and farewell.” Tiberius in the midst of dissimulation—for thus about him Tacitus: “by now strength and body, not dissimulation, were deserting Tiberius.”
Vespasian with a scoff, exonerating himself upon the stool, as I think: I am becoming a god. Galba with a gnome: strike, if it be in the interest of the Roman people, at the same time stretching out his neck. Septimius Severus in the midst of business being expedited: be present, if anything remains for me to do.
More rightly is he who places the ultimate end of life among the gifts of nature. For it is equally natural for human beings to die as to be born, and perhaps an infant feels no less pain from the one than from the other. He who dies in the course of prosecuting some great desire is as one wounded, his blood still fervent, who scarcely feels the wound.
Accordingly, the mind, fixed and intent upon some good, withdraws itself from the pains of death. But indeed, above all, the sweetest of songs is that “now you dismiss,” when someone has attained his ends and honorable expectations. This too death has in itself: that it opens the door of good fame and extinguishes envy—the same man, once extinct, will be loved.
1. Cum religio sit praecipuum humanae societatis vinculum, par est ut et ipsa debitis verae unitatis et charitatis vinculis astringatur. Dissidia circa religionem mala erant, ethnicis incognita. Nec mirum, cum religio ethnicorum posita esset potius in ritibus et cultu deorum externo quam in constanti aliqua confessione et fide.
1. Since religion is the principal bond of human society, it is fitting that it too be bound by the due bonds of true unity and charity. Dissensions concerning religion were evils, unknown to the pagans. Nor is it a wonder, since the religion of the pagans was set rather in rites and in the external cult of the gods than in any steadfast confession and faith.
Wherefore we say a few things about unity in the church: namely, what its fruits are, what the limits, and by what methods, finally, it is conciliated. The chief fruits of unity (besides that it is supremely pleasing to God, which ought to be set before all things) are two. The one regards those who are outside the church, the other those who are within.
As for the former, it is certain that by far the greatest scandals in the church are heresies and schisms, as those which even surpass the corruptions of morals. For just as in the natural body wounds and a solution of continuity are in kind worse than putrid humors, the case of the spiritual body is similar. To such a degree that nothing is found which equally deters men from entrance into the church, or expels those already received, as the violation of unity.
Therefore, in times when that grows rife, so that some say, “behold, in the desert,” others, “behold, in the inner chambers,” that is, while certain men seek Christ in the conventicles of heretics, others in the external face of the church, there is altogether need that that voice should, as it were, perpetually strike the ears of men, “do not go out.” That Doctor of the nations, whose calling and mission, both proper and entrusted, laid upon him the care of those who had been outside the church, says: If some unbeliever or unlearned person should enter your assemblies and hear you speaking in various tongues, will he not proclaim you to be insane? Nor indeed is the case much better when atheists and profane men behold so great quarrels in religion and combats of opinions.
Surely this thing averts them from the church, and makes them sit in the chair of deriders. It may seem something too light to be cited in so serious a treatise; yet it excellently paints the deformity of the matter: a certain distinguished craftsman of jesting, in the catalogue of the books of a certain fabulous library, sets among the rest a book with this inscription, Floral Dances and Gesticulations of the Heretics. For there is none of them who does not exhibit a certain peculiar ridiculous movement of the body and a deformity of gestures, whence it cannot but be that carnal and political men, degenerate, sneer—men who are easily borne into contempt of sacred things.
As far as the fruits of unity, which redound to those who are within, they are in one word peace, which embraces innumerable benedictions. For indeed it stabilizes faith, it kindles charity. Nay even the Church’s external peace, by consent, gradually distills into internal peace, and it turns the labors of writers and readers from controversies into treatises of piety and mortification.
2. Quantum ad terminos et limites unitatis, vera proculdubio et iusta eorum collocatio magni prorsus est ad omnia in religione momenti. Duo autem in iis statuendis videntur fieri excessus. Hominibus enim zelo fervidis omnis pacifationis mentio est odiosa.
2. As to the terms and limits of unity, the true and just placement of them is assuredly of very great moment for all things in religion. But in establishing them two excesses seem to occur. For to men fervid with zeal every mention of pacification is odious.
On the contrary, certain men, as if Laodiceans, tepid in causes of religion, think they can tie together the heads of religion by a convenient nexus through middle ways, with opinions sharing from both sides, and ingenious reconciliations, as if they wished to carry themselves as arbiters between God and men. Each excess is to be avoided. This will be achieved if the covenant among Christians, set forth by our very Savior, in those clauses which at first glance would seem to be opposed to one another, receives a perspicuous and plain interpretation: “he who is not with us is against us,” and again, “he who is not against us is with us.”
This is, if the articles of religion that are plainly essential and fundamental be duly discerned and distinguished from the heads that are not of faith, but are sanctioned, for the sake of order and the polity of the Church, by probable opinion and holy intention. This, to very many, may seem a trivial matter, in which one is merely doing what has already been done. Yet if this very thing were carried out with less party-spirit, it would be received with greater consensus as well.
In this matter it seemed good to impart somewhat of counsel, in proportion to the slenderness of our capacity. Care must be taken, lest men lacerate the Church of God by two genera of controversies. The first is when the materia of the controversy is lighter, nor deserving of so great a contention as is stirred up about it, inflamed by contradiction alone.
Just as, indeed, it has been acutely and elegantly noted by one of the Fathers, the tunic of Christ was seamless, and the garment of the church many-colored. Whence he enjoins, “In the garment let there be variety, let there be no rending.” For unity and uniformity differ not a little from one another.
The second is, when the matter of the controversy does indeed have weight, but has been reduced to excessive subtlety and obscurity; to such a degree that it seems to be something ingenious rather than solid. We sometimes see it happen that a learned and intelligent person listens to unskilled men litigating among themselves about some question, and clearly notices that they in reality hold the same view and converge into one, yet for these very persons there is never an end of dissension. And if this sometimes occurs in that slight disparity of judgment which can exist among men, is it not fitting to believe that God in the heavens, who searches and knows hearts, judges that we fragile humans in some things about which we raise controversy do in truth feel the same, and benignly is well-pleased with both?
The nature and character of controversies of this sort are best expressed by St. Paul, in that monition and precept which he applies thereto: “avoid profane novelties of words, and the oppositions of science falsely so called.” Men create for themselves oppositions which in truth are none, and they shape and forge them into new vocables, which are so fixed and invariable that, where sense ought to rule the word, the word commands the sense. There are also, as of controversies, so too of unity, two species which may be reckoned adulterine.
3. Iam, quatenus ad modos per quos conciliatur unitas, cavendum est hominibus ne dum unitatem religionis procurent et muniant, leges charitatis et societatis solvant et demoliantur. Inter Christianos duo tantum recipiuntur gladii, spiritualis nempe et temporalis.
For truth and falsity are like iron and clay in the toes of the feet of the image which Nebuchadnezzar saw in dreams: they can indeed adhere, they cannot be incorporated.
3. Now, so far as concerns the modes by which unity is conciliated, men must beware lest, while they procure and fortify the unity of religion, they loosen and demolish the laws of charity and of society. Among Christians only two swords are received, namely, the spiritual and the temporal.
Each, moreover, has its own place and discharges its own function in propagating and protecting the Christian religion. But by no means is a third sword to be seized, which is that of Mahomet or similar to it: that is, that we should propagate religion by war, or by bloody persecutions inflict force upon consciences, except in cases of open and insolent scandal, blasphemy, or machination against the civil state, lest, while seditions are fostered, conspiracies and rebellions are animated, the sword be transferred into the hands of the populace, and the like. All which manifestly tend to the diminishing of the majesty of the empire and to the undermining of the authority of magistrates, whereas nevertheless every legitimate power is ordained by God.
For this is nothing else than to dash one of the tables of the law against the other, and to batter men in their capacity as Christians to such a degree that in the meantime we seem to have forgotten that they are men. The poet Lucretius, when he set before his eyes Agamemnon immolating his own daughter, exclaims
Quid tandem dixisset, si et Laniena Parisiensis aut Coniuratio Pulveraria in Anglia innotuisset? Certe septies factus esset magis Epicureus et atheus quam fuit. Nam quemadmodum gladius temporalis non temere sed magno cum iudicio in casu religionis stringendus est, ita monstri simile est eum in manus populi tradi.
What, then, would he have said, if both the Parisian Butchery and the Powder Conspiracy in England had become known? Surely he would have been made seven times more Epicurean and atheist than he was. For just as the temporal sword is not to be drawn rashly but with great judgment in a case of religion, so it is monstrous for it to be handed over into the hands of the people.
Let the Anabaptists and Furies of this sort have this to themselves. Surely that blasphemy was notable, when the Devil said, “I will ascend, and I will be like the Most High.” But an even greater blasphemy would be if someone were to introduce God saying, “I will descend, and I will be like the prince of darkness.”
What, however, does this differ from that, if under the cause of religion one descends and is cast headlong into cruel and execrable crimes—slaughtering princes, making inroads upon the lives of peoples, and utterly overturning governments? This indeed seems just as if someone should make the Holy Spirit descend in the form not of a dove but of a vulture or a raven, or from the ship of the church should raise the standard of pirates and assassins. Wherefore it is just, and the necessity of the times itself demands it, that the church by her doctrine and her decrees, princes by the sword, and all letters, whether religious or moral, by their own caduceus, should condemn and thrust down into the barathrum of hell forever such deeds and the doctrines that attribute to them any authority—just as to a great extent long since was done.
Surely it would be to be desired that in all counsels concerning religion there be set before the eyes of men that admonition of the Apostle, “the wrath of men does not fulfill the justice of God.” And, to tell the truth, it has been most well and most prudently observed by one of the Fathers, a man of profound wisdom, and no less ingenuously and sincerely by the same brought forth and published, that those who advise that consciences be pressed and that force be inflicted upon them, under that dogma, underweave their own cupidities and think that matter to be to their own interest.
1. Vindicta agrestis quaedam iusticia est quae, quo magis humana natura serpit, eo fortius legibus severis est evellenda. Etenim iniuria allata legem tantummodo violat, at reposita legem auctoritate sua plane spoliat. Certe in vindicanda iniuria aequalem se quis inimico suo sistit, in remittenda vero superiorem: regium enim est ignoscere.
1. Vengeance is a certain rustic justice which, the more it creeps in human nature, the more forcefully it must be uprooted by severe laws. For an injury inflicted violates only the law, but an injury repaid strips the law outright of its authority. Surely, in avenging an injury one sets oneself equal to one’s enemy; in remitting it, however, superior: for to forgive is regal.
Indeed I remember that Solomon said, it is an honor for a man to pass over offenses. What has already passed cannot be restored to its integrity; but the prudent have enough to care for the present and the future. They trifle, therefore, and in vain throw themselves into confusion who fuss over past matters.
Even the thorn and the bramble prick and lacerate, for such is their nature. Acts of vengeance especially deserve excuse in those injuries for which provision has not been made by law. But at the same time let one see to it that the kind of vengeance be of such a sort as is not obnoxious to the law.
Indeed, those men seem not so much to take delight in the vengeance itself as to want the offender to repent of his deed. But those endowed with a vile nature and malicious are like arrows that fly through the darkness. The Grand Duke of Florence Cosimo hurled a most sharp missile against perfidious or careless friends.
We read (he says) and have a mandate to forgive our enemies, but nowhere is it read that we are bound to forgive friends. Yet the spirit of Job speaks better: Shall we indeed (he says) receive good things from the hand of God, and not likewise at some time endure evils? Which also in some manner is fitting to be said of friends.
This is most certain: a man who is devoted to vengeance is re-opening his own wounds, which otherwise, if left to themselves, could have been healed and consolidated. Public revenges for the most part turn out prosperously, such as those for the murder of Caesar, the murder of Pertinax, the murder of Henry IV, that great king of France, and of several others. But in private revenges this holds least of all.
1. Grande prorus sonabat Seneca more Stoicorum cum diceret bona rerum secundarum optabilia, adversarum mirabilia. Certe si miraculum recte ponatur illud quod naturam superat, cernuntur miracula maxime in calamitatibus. At priorem illam sententiam magniloquentia superat alterum ex eius dictis, et excelsius quiddam est quam ethnico conveniat, vere magnum habere fragilitatem hominis, securitatem Dei.
1. Seneca sounded grand indeed in the manner of the Stoics when he said: the goods of favorable circumstances are desirable, of adverse circumstances miraculous. Certainly, if a miracle be rightly defined as that which surpasses nature, miracles are seen most of all in calamities. But in magniloquence another of his sayings surpasses that former sentence, and it is something loftier than befits a pagan: to deem truly great the fragility of man and the security of God.
Surely this saying would have been more tolerable in poetry, where such transcendences are more approved. And, to speak the truth, the poets did not leave this untouched. Nearly the same thing is adumbrated in that portentous contrivance of the ancients, which seems not to be without mystery, nay even not obscurely to refer to the Christian state: namely about Hercules, who, while he was setting out to loosen the chains of Prometheus (but in Prometheus the figure of human nature is represented), traversed the length of the Ocean in a potter’s little cup; wherein Christian constancy is painted to the life, which, in the fragile shell of flesh, navigates through the waves of the world poured round on every side.
But that we may descend from the grandeur of words to moderation, the chief virtue of prosperous circumstances is temperance, of adverse ones fortitude—which in moral matters is reckoned the most heroic virtue. Indeed, even prosperous things pertain to the blessings of the Old Testament, and adverse things to the Beatitudes of the New, which both in reality are greater and display a clearer revelation of divine favor. Yet even in the Old Testament, if you lend your ears to David’s lyre, you will find more threnodies than exultations.
The pen of the Holy Spirit, moreover, has treated the afflictions of Job more diffusely than the felicity of Solomon. Prosperous things do not pass without very many fears and annoyances, and adverse things likewise are not devoid of their consolations and hope. We certainly see in embroideries that they please better when the images are of a more lucid color, but the warp of the fabric is of a more opaque color, than when the warp itself is more splendid, but the images are darker.
A judgment, therefore, can be taken as to what is more pleasurable to the heart from that which more delights the eyes. Virtue certainly has something akin to certain precious aromatics, which are most fragrant either when burned or when crushed. For prosperous fortune chiefly indicates the vices of men, adverse fortune their virtues.
1. Dissimulatio est artium civilium compendium quoddam et pars infirmior. Etenim et ingenium acre et robur animi constans ad hoc requiritur, ut quis sciat quando verum proferendum sit atque id facere audeat. Itaque inter inferiores politicos reponuntur, qui magni sunt simulatores.
1. Dissimulation is a certain compendium of the civil arts and the weaker part. For in fact both a keen wit and a constant strength of mind are required for this, that one know when the truth is to be brought forth and dare to do it. And so those who are great simulators are placed among inferior politicians.
2. Quod discrimen bene apud Tacitum Caesarem Augustum inter et Tiberium adnotatum est. Etenim de Livia sic ait, quod esset cum artibus mariti et simulatione filii bene composita, artes imperii Augusto, simulationem Tiberio attribuens. Idem alibi hisce verbis Mucianum inducit Vespasianum ad arma contra Vitellium sumenda hortantem: non adversus Augusti acerrimam mentem, nec adversus Tiberii cautissimam senectutem insurgimus.
2. Which distinction has been well noted by Tacitus between Caesar Augustus and Tiberius. For indeed he thus says about Livia, that she was well composed with the arts of her husband and the simulation of her son, attributing the arts of empire to Augustus, the simulation to Tiberius. The same elsewhere introduces Mucianus with these words, exhorting Vespasian to take up arms against Vitellius: we are not rising up against the keenest mind of Augustus, nor against the most cautious old age of Tiberius.
Wherefore these faculties of the civil arts and of simulations are to be altogether distinguished. Let it be granted, then, that someone is of felicitous acumen and of such great perspicacity that he can discriminate which things are to be made public, which to be concealed, which to be brought forth as it were in twilight, with the consideration of times and persons also duly weighed (which are in truth political and civil arts, as Tacitus rightly calls them); for such a one, dissimulation will be an impediment. But if anyone is not able to ascend to this degree of judgment and discretion, there is left to him, as the safest course, to be covert and a dissembler.
For where in particulars it is not granted to choose, there it is safest to tread cautiously in all things. For the half-blind must move slowly. Indeed, everywhere you may find that men most expert in the handling of affairs have for the most part displayed candor, ingenuousness, and veracity in negotiations.
3. Consilia et mentem tegendi aut velandi gradus sunt tres.
But at the same time they were like well-taught and tamed horses, who knew how suddenly to halt themselves and to turn themselves. But if a certain necessity should press in, demanding deep dissimulation, then indeed the opinion and fame preconceived about their good faith and veracity renders them altogether invisible.
3. The degrees of covering or veiling counsels and the mind are three.
First is taciturnity, when someone suppresses the sentiments of his mind, and so leaves them in equilibrium that no one would easily conjecture to which side he inclines. Second is dissimulation in the negative, when someone by design casts certain signs and indications that he is not the one who he truly is. Third is simulation in the affirmative, when someone openly feigns and puts forward a pretext that he is the one who in truth he is not.
4. Quantum ad primum horum, taciturnitatem scilicet, ea est certe virtus confessoris. Atque profecto vir taciturnus multas audit confessiones. Quis enim garrulo et loquaci pectus suum recludet?
4. As to the first of these, namely taciturnity, this is surely the virtue of the confessor. And indeed a taciturn man hears many confessions. For who will open his heart to a garrulous and loquacious man?
But if someone have the reputation of a taciturn man, he will easily unseal the minds of others, just as confined air sucks at an opening; and, as it were, the confessing of offenses aims not at some end that tends to civil affairs, but at relieving the conscience. Thus indeed taciturn men come to the knowledge of many things for a similar cause, while people desire not so much to impart as to exonerate their mind. To say it in few words, mysteries are due to the silent.
Moreover, if we speak the truth, even in the mind, equally as in the body, nudity is deformed and uncomely, nor does it add a small reverence to the counsels and deeds of men if they are less patent. But the loquacious and the futile are also light and credulous. For he who speaks out what he knows will babble out even what he does not know.
Let it, therefore, be set for certain that the habit of taciturnity is a political and moral virtue. But this also must be added: it is good for a man that his countenance not preempt the office of the tongue. For the revelation of the mind from the face or from gesture is a great defect, and a kind of as‑it‑were betrayal, all the more because very often it is more noticed and wins more credence than words.
5. Quantum ad secundum, dissimulationem scilicet, ex necessitate quadam illa taciturnitatem sequitur. Adeo ut qui tectus esse vult dissimulator aliquatenus vel nolens evadat. Etenim astutiores sunt homines quam ut patiantur aliquem in aequilibrio se continere absque aliqua in alteram partem inclinationis suae declaratione.
5. As to the second point, namely dissimulation, by a certain necessity it follows upon taciturnity. So much so that he who wishes to be under cover ends up, to some extent, even unwillingly, a dissembler. For men are more astute than to allow anyone to keep himself in equilibrium without some declaration of his inclination to one side or the other.
In subtle questions they will besiege him, and allure, and shake him out, so that, unless one fortify himself by an obdurate and absurd silence, it will be necessary for him to betray himself somewhat. Nay even if he do not this, from the very silence they will take something of conjecture no less than from words. But as regards equivocations and the oracles of words, those will not be able to avail long, so that no one can be hidden unless he indulge himself some degree of dissimulation, which is nothing else than a certain appendix or hem of silence.
6. Quantum vero ad tertium gradum, nimirum simulationem et professionem falsam, illam magis vitiosam et minus politicam duco, nisi forte dignus vindice nodus inciderit. Itaque perpetua consuetudo simulandi vitium est, aut ex ingenii lubricitate quadam vel timiditate ortum, aut etiam ex animi constitutione quae vitio aliquo magno imbuta est. Quod, quia occultare oportet, simulationem etiam in aliis adhibere et exercere efficit, ne forte habitus ipse intercidat.
6. But as for the third degree, to wit simulation and false profession, I judge it more vicious and less politic, unless perchance a knot worthy of a vindicator should occur. Therefore a perpetual custom of dissembling is a vice, arising either from a certain slipperiness of disposition or from timidity, or even from a constitution of mind which is imbued with some great vice. Which, because it ought to be concealed, brings it about that one applies and practices simulation also in other matters, lest perhaps the very habit should lapse.
7. Commoda simulationis et dissimulationis tria. Primum est quod oppositionem amoliatur et homines imparatos aggrediatu. Ubi enim consilia cuiuspiam evulgata fuerint, adversari veluti tuba excitantur.
7. The advantages of simulation and dissimulation are three. The first is that it removes opposition and attacks men unprepared. For when the plans of someone have been divulged, adversaries are aroused as by a trumpet.
The second is that it leaves it in a man’s power to draw back his foot and to withdraw himself from the business without the loss of his reputation. For if someone binds himself by a manifest declaration, he is shut in as if wedges had been driven home: either he must proceed, or he must shamefully desist. The third is that it opens a way to the uncovering of others’ counsels.
For indeed, to him who brings forth his own counsels, no one will readily profess himself an adversary; rather he will assent, and will turn the liberty of speaking into a liberty of thinking. And so there is held among the Spaniards a quite malign adage, say a lie, and you will unearth the truth, just as if simulation were a key for unlocking secrets. There are also three inconveniences of simulation and dissimulation, so that the matter may be compensated on equal terms.
First, that they bespeak timidity, which plucks the feathers from all undertakings lest they fly swiftly to the goal. Second, that they cast the minds of many into ambivalent thoughts, who perhaps otherwise would have cooperated and by their zeal have advanced the matter, whence, without companion and friendly assistance, one walks alone to his ends. Third (and this the greatest), that it deprives a man of the chief organ for actions, namely faith.
1. Gaudia parentum occulta sunt, nec minus dolores eorum et metus. Illa certe verbis assequi nequeunt, hos autem proferre nolunt. Certe liberi labores humanos suaviores, verum infortunia amariora, reddunt.
1. The joys of parents are hidden, and no less their pains and fears. Those, to be sure, they cannot compass by words; these, however, they are unwilling to proffer. Certainly children render human labors sweeter, but misfortunes more bitter.
They multiply the cares of life, but mitigate the memory of death. The eternity of offspring is common even to brutes, but that of memory, of merits, and of works is proper to human beings. And indeed one may truly see most noble works and foundations set forth in the world, by which it was a concern to exhibit effigies of souls, when they were destitute of images of the body.
So much so that those who lack posterity are most devoted to posterity. Those who first introduce honors into their family are most indulgent toward their children. For indeed they regard them not only as the continuation of their species, but as the heir of the deeds done by themselves, and therefore as children and creatures.
Degrees of affections in parents toward children, diverse, are often unequal, sometimes unjust, and most of all in the mother. Whence Solomon says, a wise son gladdens the father, but a foolish son is a sorrow to his mother. In a fruitful house and full of children one sometimes sees one or another of the elders valued more, and some of the younger to be in high favor, and some of the younger to be in high favor, but in the middle perhaps some, as it were, to be passed over in oblivion, who nonetheless not rarely turn out of the best natural disposition.
The illiberality of parents toward their own children is an error plainly noxious. For it makes them degenerate in spirit, devoted to deceptions, taking delight in the company of the ignoble, and more prone to luxury when they have obtained a plenty of means. Therefore things turn out best when parents maintain their authority with their children and loosen the purse-strings.
It has gained ground among parents, as well as tutors and servants, a truly inept custom of sowing and fostering emulations among brothers during their childhood. These very often pass into discords after the virile age, and they disturb households. The Italians place no great discrimination between children and grandchildren or cognates, but, provided they are of the mass of blood, they do not reckon much whether they have been brought forth from their own body or not.
And if the truth is to be said, in nature there is not much difference; to such a degree that we often see a grandson more similar to his maternal uncle or to a kinsman than to his own parent, just as the blood is by a certain chance derived. Let parents take care, in the tender age of their children, to what kind of life they destine them. For then they are especially flexible and wax-like.
Nor in this selection should they look too much to the inclination of their own sons, as though they would seize upon that more successfully to which they seem most propense. It is true, if the affection or aptitude of the boys toward some study is remarkable, it is not expedient for one to resist nature or disposition. But for the most part that precept is sound: choose the best; custom will make it pleasant and easy.
1. Qui uxorem duxit et liberos suscepit, obsides fortunae dedit. Sunt enim magnorum conatuum impedimenta, sive ad virtutem tendat quis sive ad improbitatem. Certe praestantissima (ut alibi diximus) in usum reipublicae opera et merita a viris profecta sunt prole carentibus, qui tam affectu quam fortunis rempublicam connubio sibi iunxerunt et dotarunt.
1. He who has taken a wife and has begotten children has given hostages to fortune. For they are impediments to great endeavors, whether one tends toward virtue or toward depravity. Surely the most outstanding works and merits for the use of the republic (as we said elsewhere) have proceeded from men lacking offspring, who by wedlock joined the republic to themselves both with affection and with fortunes, and endowed it.
Yet it seems more consonant with reason that those who leave children behind have cared for the greater times to come, to which they know well that those most dear pledges of theirs ought to be transmitted. There are, however, those who, although they lack children, are nevertheless careless of their own memory, and confine their thoughts to the mere course of life, and reckon the future times as pertaining nothing to themselves. Nay, some others have wife and children only in the accounts of expenses.
Moreover, there are found certain avaricious fools who almost boast that they are without children, so as to be accounted all the richer. They have, forsooth, heard some saying, “Such-and-such a man is richest,” while others subjoining, “but he is burdened with many children,” as though this were a diminution of riches. But the most frequent cause of celibacy is liberty, especially in certain self-pleasing and fantastical minds, who have gotten so acute a sense of every restriction that they almost take belts and garters for bonds and fetters.
For one does not easily irrigate the soil, if first there intervenes the receptacle of some stagnant pool. To judges and magistrates the matter is almost indifferent; for if they are pliant and given over to corruptions, you may see some servant, in many ways, worse than a wife at snatching lucre of this kind.
As regards soldiers, I certainly find that leaders, when haranguing before their armies, are accustomed to recall to them the affections of wives and children. I also find that contempt of nuptials among the Turks renders the common soldiers more base. Surely, moreover, wife and children are a certain discipline of humanity; and yet bachelors, although very often they are more munificent and charitable because their fortunes are less exhausted.
They are, however, on the other side, more cruel and without bowels (fit to be severe inquisitors), because the indulgence and tenderness of their affections are not so often evoked and excited. Grave natures and those led by custom, and therefore constant, are for the most part uxorious, as is reported of Ulysses: he preferred his old wife to immortality. Chaste women are for the most part proud and insolent, deservedly exalted by their own pudicity.
Among the most outstanding bonds of chastity and a wife’s obedience toward her husband, this ought to be reckoned: that the wife deem her husband prudent—something she will never do if she finds him jealous. The wives of young men are mistresses, of men in middle age companions, of old men nurses. Thus there is an occasion for taking a wife in each several age.
Yet he was numbered among the wise who, when asked what would be the opportune time for nuptials, replied: for the young, not yet; for the old, not at all. Often it happens that worse husbands have good wives, whether this happens because in this way value is added, by turns, to the husband’s benevolence, or because wives glory in their patience.
1. Ex affectibus nulli sunt qui existimantur fascinare praeter amorem et invidiam. Uterque acria progignit desideria, uterque se perniciter efformat in phantasias et suggestiones, atque uterque facile inscendit in oculos (praecipue quando obiectum adest). Quae omnia ad fascinationem faciunt, si modo fascinatio aliqua sit. Videmus etiam Scripturam invidiam, oculi mali nomine, insignire, atque astrologos malos astrorum astrorum influxus malignos aspectus vocare.
1. Of the affections there are none that are thought to bewitch except love and envy. Each begets sharp desires, each perniciously shapes itself into phantasies and suggestions, and each easily mounts into the eyes (especially when the object is present). All these things make for fascination, if indeed there be any fascination at all. We see also Scripture mark envy by the name of the evil eye, and astrologers call the bad influxes of the stars malignant aspects.
It is thus that it seems to be recognized by all, in envy and its operation, that there is a certain ejaculation and irradiation from the eyes. Nay, some have been so curious that they have noted the times at which the blow and striking of the envious eye harms most, and that this is chiefly when the person toward whom envy is directed is beheld in glory and triumph. For this sharpens the point of envy, and moreover at those times the spirits of the person envied go forth most into the outer parts, whence they meet the stroke.
2. Verum, missis istis rebus curiosis (licet non indignis quae in considerationem veniant, sed loco idoneo), tractabimus hac tria: qui sint ad invidendum maxime proclives, qui sint invidiae maxime obnoxii, et quae sit differentia inter invidiam publicam et privatam. Qui virtutis ipse expers est, invidet virtuti alterius. Etenim animi hominum se pascunt et delectantur aut bono proprio aut malo alieno.
2. But, those curious matters being dismissed (though not unworthy to come into consideration, yet in a fitting place), we will treat these three things: who are most prone to envy, who are most obnoxious to envy, and what the difference is between public and private envy. He who is himself devoid of virtue envies the virtue of another. For indeed the minds of men feed and delight themselves either on their own good or on another’s ill.
3. Vir curiosus et se alienis rebus immiscens ut plurimum invidus est.
Whoever lacks the first nourishment will satiate himself with the second. And he who in no way hopes that he can attain to another’s virtue, himself gladly depresses that man’s fortune, so that a lesser disparity may intercede.
3. A curious man, and one who mixes himself into other people’s affairs, is for the most part envious.
For indeed to inquire much into other people’s affairs can by no means have as its aim that painstaking assiduity should conduce to one’s own concerns. And so it cannot but be that a man of this sort takes a certain theatrical pleasure in viewing the fortunes of others. Nor will he who is intent only on his own affairs find a plentiful harvest of envy.
4. Viri natalibus nobiles invidiae erga novos homines notam subeunt. Etenim mutatur invervallum.
For envy is a passion running to and fro and wearing the streets, nor does it confine itself at home: there is no busybody who is not likewise malevolent.
4. Men noble by birth incur the mark of envy toward new men. For the interval is changed.
5. Deformes, et eunuchi, et senes, et spurii invidi sunt. Etenim qui conditionem suam emendare nullo modo potest, conditionem alterius pro viribus suis labefactabit.
And this is similar to a deception of sight, when things seem to go backward, as others are promoting themselves.
5. The deformed, and eunuchs, and old men, and spurious (illegitimate) men are envious. For indeed he who can in no way amend his own condition will, to the extent of his powers, undermine another’s condition.
6. Eadem fere ratio est hominum qui e calamitatibus resurgunt.
Unless perhaps these defects have fallen upon noble and heroic natures, which strive to turn their own natural defects into an increment of their honor. Namely, so that fame may seize upon this: that a eunuch or a lame man has accomplished things so great, with, assuredly, the honor of a miracle being aimed at—something which befell Narses the eunuch, and Agesilaus, and Tamerlane, who were lame.
6. Nearly the same rationale holds for men who rise again out of calamities.
7. Qui in plurimis excellere contendunt, levitate et gloria vana moti, necesse est ut sint invidi. Ubique enim occurrunt obiecta invidiae, cum fieri nequeat quin aliqui in tot rebus illos superent.
For they are for the most part hostile to the times, and they savor others’ calamities as though redemptions of their own vexations.
7. Those who strive to excel in very many things, moved by levity and vain glory, must needs be envious. For everywhere occur objects of envy, since it cannot be but that some in so many matters surpass them.
8. Postremo propinqui, et collegae, et una educati ad invidendum aequalibus, cum evehuntur, proni sunt. Etenim exprobrat hoc illis fortunam propriam, eosque quasi digito monstrat, et frequenter eorum memoriam vellicat.
Such was the character of the emperor Hadrian, who pursued poets, and painters, and other artificers, in those works, namely, wherein he himself was eager to excel, with a certain capital envy.
8. Finally, kinsmen, and colleagues, and those brought up together are prone to envy their equals, when they are lifted up. For this reproaches to them their own fortune, and, as it were, points at them with a finger, and frequently tweaks their memory.
And indeed, this comparison of fortune more incurs the censure of others. Envy, moreover, is always reflected back and doubled by fame and discourse. Whence the envy of Cain toward his brother Abel was more malignant, because, although Abel’s sacrifice was more acceptable to God, no one inspected it.
9. Quantum ad illos qui invidiae magis aut minus obnoxii sunt, primo iis qui eminente virtute praediti sunt minus invidentur cum promoventur. Promotio enim eorum videtur ex debito.
And thus much about those who are prone to envy.
9. As for those who are more or less obnoxious to envy, first, those endowed with eminent virtue are less envied when they are promoted. For their promotion seems as due.
That, however, is worthy of observation: that unworthy persons, at the very first ascent of their honor, are most envied, but afterwards less; whereas, on the contrary, persons worthy and distinguished by merits then at length experience envy, after their fortunes have endured longer. Indeed, although their virtue remains the same, yet it is less illustrious. For recent men arise who obscure it.
10. Nobiles genere minus invidiae expositi sunt cum honoribus cumulantur. Etenim nihil aliud videtur quam debitum maioribus suis repensum. Praeterea parum fortunae eorum additum videtur.
10. Nobles by lineage are less exposed to envy when they are cumulated with honors. For indeed nothing else seems than a debt repaid to their ancestors. Moreover, little seems to have been added to their fortune.
11. Qui cum honoribus suis coniunctos habent labores magnos, curas, et pericula, invidia minus laborant.
Envy, however, after the manner of the rays of the sun, is more ardent on a slope than on the plain. And so, for the same cause, those who are raised by steps incur less envy than those who by a leap.
11. Those who have great labors, cares, and dangers conjoined with their honors suffer less from envy.
For indeed men suppose that they purchase those honors of theirs at a dear price, and sometimes they begin rather to pity them. But mercy almost always heals envy. And so you will note for the most part that political men and those shining with honor, more sane and sober, are always pouring forth querimonies about what kind of life they lead, singing that “how much we suffer,” not because they so feel, but in order to blunt the edge of envy.
But this must be understood of the affairs which are imposed upon men of this kind, not of those which they draw to themselves. For nothing more excites envy than an ambitious and immoderate monopoly of affairs; and nothing, conversely, more extinguishes envy than if someone, positioned in the highest honors, detracts nothing from other subordinate officials.
12. Super omnia ,illi invidiam in se concitant maxime qui fortunarum suarum amplitudinem insolenter et tumide ostentant, nunquam sibi placentes nisi dum potentiam suam iactent vel per pompam exteriorem, vel triumphando de adversariis aut competitoribus suis deiectis. Ubi contra viri prudentes sacrificare quandoque invidiae ament, de industria interdum permittentes se vinci in rebus quae minus eius cordi sunt.
For in this way, as many ministers as he has, by just so many little sunshades he shelters himself from envy.
12. Above all ,those most stir envy up against themselves who insolently and tumidly ostentatiously display the amplitude of their fortunes, never pleasing themselves except while they vaunt their power either through exterior pomp, or by triumphing over their adversaries or competitors when cast down. Whereas, contrariwise, prudent men sometimes like to sacrifice to Envy, at times deliberately allowing themselves to be conquered in matters that are less dear to their heart.
13. Postremo, ut huic parti finem imponamus, quemadmodum in principio diximus invidiae actum aliquid habere in se ex veneficio, ita non alia est invidiae curatio quam quae solet esse veneficii et incantationis.
Nevertheless this is true, that an open and undisguised ostentation of power (provided arrogance and vain-glory be absent) labors under less envy than if it should craftily and, as it were, by stealth withdraw itself from notice. For indeed, when this is done, one does nothing else than cast an imputation upon his fortune, as though he were conscious to himself of his own unworthiness, whence he goads others to envy him.
13. Finally, to put an end to this part: just as at the beginning we said that the act of envy has in itself something of poisoning, so there is no other cure of envy than that which is wont to be for poisoning and incantation.
This is a translation of the lot (as they call it) and a removal onto another. To which end the more prudent among the honored always bring on stage someone onto whom they may divert the envy that would otherwise run against themselves, sometimes casting it upon ministers and servants, sometimes upon colleagues and partners, or upon certain others. Nor for this use are there ever lacking some violent and rash persons who, provided they stir power and business, do not hesitate to purchase them at whatever peril.
14. Iam vero, ut de publica invidia loquamur, ea saltem aliquid in se habet boni, ubi in privata invidia nihil prorsus inest boni. Publica enim invidia instar salubris ostracismi est, qui viros magnos supra modum excrescentes coercet, unde etiam praevo est viris praepotentibus ne se nimium efferant.
15. Hec invidia, quae mala contentatio modernis linguis appellatur (et in titulo de seditionibus plenius tractabitur), est in regnis et rebuspublicis contagioni non absimilis.
14. Now indeed, to speak about public envy, that at least has something of good in it, whereas in private envy there is absolutely nothing of good. For public envy is after the manner of a healthful ostracism, which restrains great men overgrowing beyond measure; whence also it is a forewarning to prepotent men not to exalt themselves too much.
15. This envy, which in the modern tongues is called malcontentation (and will be handled more fully under the title On Seditions), is in kingdoms and commonwealths not unlike a contagion.
For indeed, just as contagion creeps into the sound parts and corrupts them, so also, when envy has seized the state, it turns even the best mandates and institutions of the republic into hatred and a certain rank odor. And so little is profited by intermixing agreeable and popular actions with odious ones. For this very thing argues weakness and fear of envy, which harms so much the more—as likewise happens in contagions—which, if you are afraid of them, rush upon you the more easily.
16. Ac publica ista invidia magis in regum officiarios et ministros involat quam in reges ipsos. Attamen ecce regulam quae vix fallit: si invidia quae ministro incumbit sit magna, caussa autem parva, aut si invidia quasi generalis sit et omnes status ministros complectatur, tunc invidia (etsi occulto) regem aut statum ipsum petit. Atque haec dicta sint de publica invidia aut contentione mala, atque de eius differentia ab invidia privata, quam priore loco tractavimus.
16. And that public envy fastens itself more upon the officers and ministers of kings than upon the kings themselves. Yet behold a rule that scarcely fails: if the envy that lies upon a minister be great, but the cause small; or if the envy be, as it were, general and embrace all the ministers of the state, then the envy (albeit covertly) strikes at the king or at the state itself. And let these things be said concerning public envy, or evil contention, and concerning its difference from private envy, which we treated in the former place.
17. Addemus etiam in genere de affectu invidiae hoc insuper, eum inter omnes affectus esse maxime importunum et assiduum. Etenim aliis affectibus excitandis subinde praebetur occasio. Recte autem dictum est invidiam festos dies non agere, quia semper materiam se exercendi reperit.
17. We will add also, in general, concerning the affect of envy this moreover: that among all affects it is the most importunate and assiduous. For to other affects an occasion is afforded from time to time for being excited. But it has been rightly said that envy keeps no feast-days, because it always finds matter for exercising itself.
Whence it has also been observed that love and envy induce leanness in men, which other affections do not, since they are not continuous. Envy, moreover, is the vilest and most depraved of affections, for which cause it is the proper attribute of the Devil, who is called the envious man, who by night sowed tares among the wheat. Just as it also always comes to pass that envy works craftily and in the dark to the prejudice of whatever is best, as of wheat.
1. Amori plus debet scena quam vita. Etenim in scena amor semper comoediae praebet argumentum, quandoque etiam et tragoediae. At in vita humana multum plerunque affert nocumenti, nunc ut Syrenum aliqua, aliquando ut Furiarum.
1. The stage owes more to Love than life does. For indeed on the stage love always provides the argument for comedy, sometimes even for tragedy. But in human life it generally brings much detriment, now like something of the Sirens, at times like that of the Furies.
It may be observed that none among the great and illustrious men (whose memory stands either ancient or recent) was driven to that insane grade of love. Whence it is evident that great spirits and great enterprises do not admit this infirm passion. Yet one ought to except Marcus Antonius, a duumvir of the Roman Empire, and Appius Claudius, a decemvir, the chief among the legislators of the Romans.
Of whom the former was in truth a luxurious man and given over to pleasures, while the latter was a prudent and austere man. Whence anyone may perceive that love (although more rarely) can find an entrance not only into an open heart, but even into one well-fortified, if it be not kept with diligent guard. For abject indeed and pusillanimous is that saying of Epicurus, “we are a sufficiently great theater for one another,” as though man, born for the contemplation of heaven and the celestial things, should busy himself worshiping a diminutive idol, by submitting himself, if not to the mouth as the brutes, yet to the eye—surely given for the contemplation of higher things.
It will seem a wondrous thing if we weigh the excess of this passion, and how it insults the very nature of things and true value, even by this very fact, that perpetual hyperbole fits no thing except love. Nor is this hyperbole seen only in the phrase of locution. For since it has been most truly said that the chief of flatterers, with whom the other lesser flatterers conspire, is each person, assuredly, a lover of himself, there is something more.
For never indeed was there anyone so proud who magnified himself so absurdly as a lover magnifies the beloved person. Rightly, therefore, that proverb has been received: to love and to be wise is scarcely granted even to God. Nor is this frenzy manifest only to others—by no means least to the person loved; indeed to the loved one most of all, unless the love is reciprocal.
For it is most certain that love is always repaid either by mutual love or by intrinsic and secret contempt. Wherefore men must the more beware of this passion, which not only destroys other things, but even itself. The other harms which it brings are nicely expressed by that fable of the poets, namely that the one who preferred Helen lost the gifts of Juno and of Pallas.
For whoever indulges too much the affections of a lover sends a notice of dismissal both to riches and to wisdom. This passion has its heats at the very times when the mind is most soft and infirm, namely in prosperous or in adverse circumstances, although the latter perhaps has been less observed. For each tempest kindles love and makes it more blazing, whence it is proved to be the offspring of folly.
Best are those who, if they cannot altogether expel loves, yet reduce them to order and segregate them from serious matters and the business of life. For if love intermix itself with these, it disturbs everything and drives men to the point that they cannot seek their ends straight. Whatever the case may be, military men are devoted to loves, I think, no otherwise than to wine.
For perils, for the most part, demand a pleasurable compensation. There is in human ingenium a certain arcane motion and a tacit inclination into love of others, which, if it be not expended upon one or a few, naturally diffuses itself into many, and makes men humane and charitable, as one may sometimes see among monks. Conjugal love creates the human race; social love perfects it; but lascivious love infects and disgraces it.
1. Viri in magistratu collocati ter servi: servi principis vel politiae, servi famae, et servi negotiorum. Adeo ut libertate neutiquam fruantur, nec in personis, nec in actionibus, nec in temporibus suis. Mirum cupiditatis genus potestatem appetere, libertatem amittere, vel potestatem in alios ambire, potestatem in seipsum exuere.
1. Men placed in magistracy are thrice servants: servants of the prince or of the polity, servants of fame, and servants of business. So much so that they in no wise enjoy liberty, neither in their persons, nor in their actions, nor in their own times. A marvelous kind of cupidity: to appetite power, to lose liberty; or to canvass for power over others, to divest oneself of power over oneself.
Ascent to dignities is arduous, and through labors one comes to greater labors. Often too it is not without indignities, and through indignities one reaches dignities. Standing in dignities is a slippery affair, and the return is either a precipice or at least an eclipse, which itself is something sad and melancholic, since, when you are not who you once were, there is no reason why you should wish to live.
Indeed, it is not even permitted to go back, even if someone should desire it. Nor are men willing to go back, when reason requires that they do so. Rather, they remain impatient of private life, even when senectitude or infirmity impends, which call for shade and leisure, like town-dwelling old men who wish to sit before the doorway, although in that way they expose themselves to derision.
Surely for men in polished magistracies it is necessary that they borrow the opinions of others, whereby they may think themselves blessed. For if they judge by their own sense, they will discover nothing of this kind. but when they consider with themselves what others think about them, and how gladly others would wish to exchange conditions with them, then at last they are happy as it were only to the extent of rumor, while within perhaps they experience the contrary.
2. In potestatibus licentia magna datur et boni et mali. Quorum posterius pro maledicitone habendum. In malis enim optima conditio est nolle, proxima non posse.
2. In powers a great license is given both for good and for evil. Of which the latter is to be held as a malediction. For among evils the best condition is to be unwilling; the next, to be unable.
Surely the power of meriting well is the true and legitimate end of ambition. For to think well, although it be acceptable to God, yet toward men is not much better than to dream well, unless it be brought forth into act. But that cannot be done without some public office and power, as on superior and elevated ground.
Nor yet neglect the examples of those who in the same office have performed wrongly, not in order that by carping at their memory you may sell yourself, but that you may be admonished what you ought to avoid. Institute therefore reformation, but without elation of yourself or scandal to former times and persons. Yet let this be constituted for you: to introduce illustrious examples no less than to imitate them.
Draw things back to their first institution, and look around in what respects, and by what modes, they have degenerated. Yet consult both times: the earlier, that you may learn what was best; the more recent, that you may note what was most apt. Strive that the things you do, so far as lies in your power, be restrained as if by certain rules, so that you demonstrate to men, as with a finger, what they are to expect.
Nor yet be too pertinacious or peremptory, and always, whenever you have receded from the rule, diligently set forth what it is that you are doing. Steadfastly defend the rights of your office, yet do not on that account readily set litigation in motion about your jurisdiction. And conduct yourself so as rather to assume and exercise your rights tacitly and de facto than to raise and agitate questions about them with clamor.
3. Vitia in auctoritate utenda et exercenda sunt praecipue quatuor: mora nimia, corruptela, asperitas, et facilitas.
Defend also the rights of the inferior offices subordinated to you, and do not abandon them; and count it to yourself a greater honor to prescribe the main heads of matters than to be busy about everything. Embrace, nay invite, those who may be a help and an information to you for the execution of your office, nor drive away those who proffer their service to you for this as if thrusting themselves in, but rather attract them with favor and receive them.
3. The vices in authority, in its use and exercise, are chiefly four: excessive delay, corruption, asperity, and easiness.
As regards delays, provide easy access; keep the appointed times; bring to completion the things that have been inchoated; and do not intermix new business unless necessity presses. As regards corruptions, bind not only your own hands and those of your people, that gifts not be accepted, but also the hands of the supplicants, that they not be offered. Of these, the former certainly excels when integrity is applied; yet that very integrity, being proclaimed and professed, and with a detestation of corruptions, achieves even the latter.
Avoid not only fault, but even suspicion. Whoever are changeable, and are manifestly altered without a manifest cause, inject suspicion of corruptions. Therefore, whenever you deflect from the opinion of yours which you have declared, or from the process which you have begun, candidly profess this very thing, and at the same time sedulously declare and inculcate the causes which moved you to this, and do not believe that you can steal the matter away.
A favored servant, and powerful with his master, if there does not exist some manifest cause of favor, is commonly accounted nothing else than an oblique way to corruptions. As for asperity, it begets envy and malevolence, reaping nothing from it. For severity indeed instills fear; asperity begets hatred.
4. Verissimum sane quod a veteribus dictum est, magistratus virum indicat.
As Solomon says, to regard persons is not good. For such a one will offend for a mouthful of bread.
4. Most true indeed is what was said by the ancients: the magistracy indicates the man.
But it reveals some for the better, others for the worse. “By the consent of all, capable of empire, if he had not ruled,” says Tacitus about Galba. Conversely, about Vespasian the same writer: “Vespasian alone of emperors was changed for the better,” although Tacitus understands the one concerning the art of imperial command, the other concerning morals and affections.
It is a most luculent sign of a generous nature if someone is amended by honors. For honor is, or at least ought to be, the seat of virtue; and just as in nature bodies are moved rapidly toward their place, placidly when in their place, so virtue is more violent in ambition, more sedate once honor has been obtained. Every ascent to the summit of dignities proceeds as if along a flexuous ladder of steps.
And, if factions should have strength, it will be good to adhere to one party while one is scaling honor, but to bring oneself back to equilibrium after the going has been accomplished. Preserve the memory of your predecessor unscathed. If you do not do this, this due will be repaid to you by your successor.
Treat your colleagues also amicably, and rather call them in when they least expect it than exclude them when it would be consistent that they be called. Do not be too mindful of your station, nor make frequent mention of it in daily discourses or in private conversation, but rather let it be proclaimed of you: he is quite another man when he sits and exercises his office.
1. In scholis tritum est dicterium, nec tamen sapientis observatione indignum. Interrogatus olim Demosthenes quaenam prima oratoris virtus, respondit actio. Quea secunda?
1. In the schools there is a trite witticism, yet not unworthy of a wise man’s observation. Asked once, Demosthenes—what was the first virtue of an orator?—answered: delivery (action). And what the second?
He himself said it, who knew the matter best, and yet in that which he was praising he did not owe much to nature. A marvelous thing indeed: that part of the orator which does not penetrate beyond the bark, and ought rather to be judged the virtue of an actor than of an orator, is exalted into so lofty a place above those more noble parts—Invention, Elocution, and the rest—nay, as if it had carried every point, is almost alone proclaimed. But the reason is ready at hand.
Surely, just as there intervene quacks who profess to heal the natural body, so too for the political body there is no lack of men who will undertake cures even the most difficult. To whom perhaps it has succeeded happily in a few experiments, but, since they have not tasted the first principles of science, they often fall short. Nay rather, one may even see now and then in a bold man the exhibiting of that miracle of Mahomet.
But when the hill remained unmoved, he (not at all abashed) says: if the hill is unwilling to come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill. Thus too men of this sort, when they have undertaken certain immense things upon themselves and have most disgracefully failed in them, nevertheless (if they have reached the very summit of audacity) will catch the matter up with a jest and will turn themselves about, and nothing else. To men indeed endowed with great judgment, the audacious are a laughing-stock; nay, even among the very common crowd audacity has something of the ridiculous.
1. Bonitatem eo sensu accipio ut sit affectus qui hominum commoda studeat et bene velit, quam eandem Graeci philanthropiam vocant. Humanitatis autem vocabulum (prout vulgus ea utitur) levius aliquanto est atque angustius quam ut vim eius exprimat. Bonitatem scilicet appello affectum et habitum, bonitatem autem nativam inclinationem.
1. I take goodness in this sense: to be an affect that is zealous for the welfare of men and wishes them well, which the Greeks call philanthropy. But the word humanity (as the common crowd uses it) is somewhat too light and too narrow to express its force. By goodness I call an affect and a habit; but by native goodness, an inclination.
Goodness indeed, among all virtues and the dignities of the mind, easily holds first place, since it is an adumbrated effigy and character of the divine nature itself. With this removed from things, the animal man would be nothing other than a restless, wicked, wretched thing—nay rather, a certain species of noxious worms. Moral goodness corresponds to that theological virtue, charity.
But in charity no excess is given, nor through it can either angel or man ever incur peril. The inclination toward goodness, fixed with deep roots, resides in human nature. Which, if, being destitute of the matter or the occasion of benefaction, it does not find where to exercise itself upon men, will surely deflect toward brute animals.
Which is seen among the Turks, a nation assuredly savage and wild, who nonetheless are merciful toward brute animals, and distribute alms to dogs and birds. So much so that (Busbecq reporting) a certain Venetian goldsmith residing at Byzantium scarcely escaped the fury of the populace because he had, by inserting a stick, pried apart the throat of a certain bird with an oblong beak. Nor, however, is this goodness and virtue of charity free from its errors.
A base proverb is bandied among the Italians: “so good that he is worth nothing,” so good as to be good for nothing. Nor did Nicholas Machiavelli shrink from committing to letters—indeed in almost express words—that the Christian faith has delivered upright and innocent men as prey to the iniquity of tyrants. He pronounced this because no law anywhere, no sect or opinion, has exalted goodness to so immense a degree as the Christian religion.
Accordingly, the better—standing safe outside the stroke and threats of scandal and thus of peril—it will be worth the effort to know the errors that drive us crosswise from the straight path of so distinguished a habit. So strive for the good of others that you do not meanwhile hand yourself over as chattel to their faces or their wills. For that is a sign of facility and softness, which leads an honest mind away captive into chains.
Nor should you fling a gem to Aesop’s cock, for whom a grain of barley would prove more gratifying and more felicitous. Let the example of God in this matter be a precept for you: he waters with his own rain, he irradiates with his own sun the just as well as the unjust. Yet he does not drench all equally with a shower of wealth, nor does he illustrate them with the splendor of honors or of virtues.
Sell all that you have and dispense largess to the poor, and follow me. But do not sell all that you have, unless you come and follow me. That is, unless you enter upon such an institute of life in which you will be able to do good to others equally from small means as from great. Otherwise, while you nourish the rivulets, you exhaust the fountain. Nor, meanwhile, is a habit of goodness only found as applied to the norm of right reason, but in certain men there is found also a natural indole propense toward it, just as, on the contrary, in others a certain natural malignity.
There are, in fact, those who by the instinct of their own disposition oppose the good of others. And the lighter kind of malignity lapses into moroseness, or perversity, or a precipitate lust for opposing and for showing oneself difficult in particulars, and the like. The graver and deeper sort, however, is carried on to envy and to sheer malice.
Men of this sort commonly flourish in others’ calamities, and they always aggravate them. Surely not worthy to be compared to those dogs who were licking Lazarus’s sores, but to the flies that infest what is raw and what is excoriated. You would find not a few misanthropes, to whom it is a delight to lead men to the gallows’ branch, and yet they do not have in their gardens a tree such as Timon had.
Dispositions so arranged may not unjustly be called the abscesses and carcinomata of human nature. Yet these are the most well‑adapted timbers out of which political Mercuries may be made, like curved woods which suit well for constructing ships—destined for tossing—not for houses which remain unmoved. But the parts and indications of goodness are very many.
If anyone shows himself benign and humane toward guests and strangers, he proves himself a citizen of the world, and that his heart is not in the likeness of an island torn from the other lands, but of a continent that is joined to them. If he has compassion on the afflicted, he ennobles his inmost heart, which, just like that famed tree, through its wounds exudes balsam. If readily he forgives offenses and grants pardon for transgressions, he indicates that his mind is set on high, above the cast and missiles of wrongs.
If for modest benefits he shows himself grateful, it is evidence that he esteems the spirits of men more than the packs. Above all, if he has attained that supreme pinnacle of perfection of Saint Paul the Apostle, to devote himself and anathematize himself from Christ for the salvation of his brethren, it is an indication that he approaches most nearly to the divine nature, and in a certain manner is conformed to Christ himself.
1. De nobilitate primum agamus ut est portio reipublicae, deinde ut est conditio hominum particularium. Monarchia, in qua nulli prorsus nobiles semper pura est et absoluta tyrannis. Cuiusmodi est imperium Turcicum.
1. Let us first treat of Nobility as it is a portion of the republic, then as it is the condition of particular men. A Monarchy in which there are absolutely no nobles is always pure and absolute tyranny. Such is the Turkish empire.
For nobility dilutes the regal dignity and somewhat draws the eyes of the crowd away from the royal lineage. In a democracy, in truth, the grandees are sometimes not desired. Nay rather, that popular state is much more pacific and less subject to factions and tumults where there are no stirps of nobles.
For there the eyes of men are cast upon the things themselves, not upon persons, or if upon persons at all, it is done as upon those most suitable for the managing of affairs, and least of all that regard be had to insignia or images. We see the commonwealth of the Helvetians quite flourishing, although the diversity of religion and of the cantons may seem to obstruct. For with them utility prevails, not dignity.
That form of governing which the confederated Belgic provinces use certainly stands out. For where parity is admitted, there both counsels are entered upon more equably and tributes are paid with greater alacrity. The power and authority of nobles in a monarchy impart splendor to the prince himself, but diminish his power.
But it augments the spirits of the people, it depresses their fortunes. The case stands well when the nobles are not more potent than either the rationale of the empire or of justice demands. Yet let them be sustained in such a grade of dignity that popular insolence may be blunted by the reverence for them, as by an obstacle, before it pours itself forth upon regal majesty.
2. Quod vero ad nobilitatem spectat in personis particularibus, venerationem certe habet videre castellum aut aedificium antiquum quod nulla ruina invasit, aut etiam annosam et proceram arborem solidem et integram.
Again, a numerous nobility, which for the most part is less powerful, utterly impoverishes the state. Hence, in fact, come lavish expenses; and moreover, since in the tract of time it must needs be that many of the nobles become indigent, there follows a certain divorce, or bad temperament, between honors and moneys.
2. But as regards nobility in particular persons, there is surely a veneration in seeing a castle or ancient edifice which no ruin has invaded, or even an aged and tall tree, solid and entire.
How much more to behold an ancient noble lineage, unharmed by the waves and tempests of time. For new nobility is a work of regal power, but old is of time alone. Those who are first lifted to the summit of nobility for the most part stand out to posterity by the brilliance of their virtues, but least of all by innocence.
For honors one rarely ascends except through a mixture of good and bad arts. Yet it is equitable that the memory of one’s virtues should persist even to posterity, but that of one’s vices should die together with oneself. The splendor of birth commonly diminishes industry, and he who is less industrious envies another’s diligence.
To which there is added that there is no means by which nobles can be promoted further. But he who sticks in the same place while others ascend will scarcely be free from the goads of envy. By contrast, nobility wholly soothes passive envy, since nobles seem to have been born in possession of honors.
1. Magni refert ut pastores populi prognostica tempestatum politicarum sciant. Quae tunc maximae sunt cum res vergunt ad aequalitatem, non secus ac naturales tempestates circa aequinoctia invalescunt. Quemadmodum autem saepe videre est flatus ventorum cavos et veluti e longinquo, quin et similiter maris tumores occultos, ante procellam, idem evenit ingruentibus procellis politicis:
1. It matters greatly that the pastors of the people know the prognostics of political tempests. These are then greatest when affairs incline toward equality, just as natural tempests grow strong about the equinoxes. And just as one often sees hollow blasts of winds, as if from afar, and likewise the hidden swells of the sea, before the storm, the same occurs when political storms are bearing down:
2. Famosi libelli, et licentiosi et mordaces sermones in status scandalum cum passim volitant et increbescunt, similiter novarum rerum rumores mendaces in regiminis dedecus undique iactati, et avide a populo excepti, sunt certe inter prognostica seditionum. Quo stemmate deducta sit fama, cum Virgilius depingeret, Gigantum sororem eam esse ponit:
2. Defamatory libels, and licentious and mordacious speeches, when they flit everywhere and grow rife to the scandal of the state; likewise lying rumors of new things, cast on every side to the disgrace of the regime and greedily received by the people, are surely among the prognostics of seditions. From what lineage Rumor is derived, when Vergil portrayed her, he sets her as the sister of the Giants:
quasi famae fuissent seditionum praeteritarum reliquae. Verum sunt illae non minus seditionum futurarum praecursatrices. Recte tamen utcunque notatum est, inter seditiosos tumultus et seditiosos rumores nil aliud fere interesse nisi qualis est descrepantia inter fratrem et sororem, masculum et foeminam.
as if they were the remnants of past seditions. But in truth those are no less the precursors of future seditions. Yet it has been rightly, however, noted that between seditious tumults and seditious rumors there is almost nothing else of difference, save such as is the discrepancy between brother and sister, male and female.
Especially if the evil should grow so far that the most lauded actions of the state, which by merit would deserve the applause of the crowd and ought to conciliate the enthusiasms of the people, are translated into a worse sense and stigmatized. For this shows a great mass of envy, as Tacitus rightly says: when great envy has been fused together, whether things are done well or ill, they press them down. Nor does it therefore follow that because such rumors are numbered among the signs of tumults, for that reason their harsher suppression should be understood to provide a remedy against tumults.
3. Item illud genus obsequii in exequendis iussis de quo loquitur Tacitus pro suspecto habendum: erant in officio, sed tamen qui mallent mandata imperantium interpretari quam exequi. Mandata discutere, detractare, cavillationibus eluere, quid aliud sunt quam iugum iactare et inobedientiam tentare?
For, for the most part, when despised they vanish more easily, and the assiduous endeavor to restrain them brings about almost nothing else than that they endure more.
3. Likewise, that kind of obsequious compliance in executing orders of which Tacitus speaks is to be held suspect: they were under discipline, yet preferred to interpret the commands of the commanders rather than to execute them. To discuss the mandates, to carp at them, to explain them away with cavillations—what else is it than to shake the yoke and to attempt disobedience?
4. Etiam (ut bene notat Macchiavellius) cum principes, qui se pro parentibus communibus gerere deberent, factioni alicui se adiungent, idem fit ac cum lembus inclinatione nimia in alterum latus evertitur. Hoc temporibus Henrici tertii Gallorum regis confirmatum est.
Especially when, in those disputations about the mandates, those who stand on the side of the issuers of the mandates speak timidly and somewhat softly, while those who oppose speak more boldly and more contumaciously.
4. Also (as Machiavelli rightly notes) when princes, who ought to conduct themselves as common parents, attach themselves to some faction, the same happens as when a skiff, by excessive inclination to one side, is overturned. This was confirmed in the times of Henry III, king of the French.
For he himself from the beginning wished to betake himself into the league for extirpating the Protestants. But a little later the same league turned against the king himself. For when the authority of the prince becomes, as it were, an accessory to some cause, and some obligation arises stronger than the bond of sovereignty, kings begin to be cast out of the possession of their own authority.
5. Porro cum discordiae, et duellae, et factiones palam et audacter se ostentant, indicio est reverentiam erga principem exui. Motus enim procerum debent esse sicut motus planetarum sub primo mobile (iuxta opinionem receptam), qui rapide quidem circumferuntur secundum motum primi mobilis, leniter autem renituntur in motu proprio. Quare si viri primores et nobiles propriis motibus violenter rapiantur, et (ut scite Tacitus) liberius quam ut imperantium meminissent, orbes perturbari manifestum est.
5. Moreover, when discords, and duels, and factions display themselves openly and boldly, it is an indication that reverence toward the prince is being cast off. For the motions of the grandees ought to be like the motions of the planets under the first mobile (according to the received opinion), which indeed are swiftly carried around according to the motion of the first mobile, but gently resist in their own proper motion. Wherefore, if the leading men and nobles are violently swept along by their own motions, and (as Tacitus neatly says) with a freedom such that they forget those who rule, it is manifest that the orbits are being perturbed.
6. Rursus, cum aliqua ex quatuor imperii columnis concutatur aut labefactetur (quae sunt religio, iusticia, consilium, opes), tum serenitas precibus imploranda est. Sed mittamus haec prognostica seditionum (circa quae nihilominus intervenent nonnulla quae iis tractandis maiorem lucem praebere possint in sequentibus), et primo de materia seditionum, postea de earum caussis et flabellis , ultimo de remediis nonnihil dicamus.
For reverence is that very thing with which kings are girded by God, who sometimes threatens to burst it, “I will loosen the girdles of kings.”
6. Again, when any of the four columns of empire is shaken or made to totter (which are religion, justice, counsel, wealth), then fair weather is to be implored by prayers. But let us dismiss these prognostics of seditions (about which, nevertheless, there will intervene some things which in what follows may afford greater light for handling them), and first let us say somewhat about the matter of seditions, afterward about their causes and bellows , lastly about the remedies.
7. Materiam seditionum expendere res est consideratione dignissima. Tutissima enim via seditiones evitandi (si tempora patiantur) est ut ipsam materiam e medio tollamus. Si enim fomes flammae paratis sit, scintillae quae incendium facient ex qua parte emicare possint nemo facile dixerit.
7. To weigh the material of seditions is a matter most worthy of consideration. For the safest way of avoiding seditions (if the times permit) is that we remove the material itself out of the way. For if the tinder of flame be ready, no one could easily say from what quarter the sparks which will make a conflagration may leap forth.
8. Hoc ipsum multis utile bellum certum est indicium status ad commotiones et turbas dispositi. Tum si primorum hominum indigentia ac res accisae cum summa plebis inopia et paupertate iungantur, periculum imminet grave. Rebelliones enim quae a ventre ortum habent pessimae.
8. This very thing—a war useful to many—is a sure indication of a status disposed to commotions and tumults. Then, if the indigence of the foremost men and their cut‑down affairs are joined with the extreme want and poverty of the plebs, a grave danger impends. For rebellions that have their origin from the belly are the worst.
But as to the alienations of minds and the tedium of present affairs, these are assuredly in the civil body like more malignant humors in the natural body, which are apt to gather into a preternatural heat and inflammations. Yet let none of the princes measure the magnitude of his own peril from this, namely that the things which alienate the minds of the people are just or unjust. For that would be to suppose the vulgar multitude too capable of reason, who often are recalcitrant against their own advantage.
Moreover, in the greatest oppressions, those things which irritate patience also break spirits. But in fears the reckoning is different. Nor again should the prince or the state set less weight on the alienation of minds and envy running rampant, because those disgusts of minds have seethed either more often or for a longer time, and the commonwealth has taken no detriment therefrom.
9. Caussae seditionum hae sunt: in rebus religionis innovata, tributa et census, legum et consuetudinum mutatio, immunitatum et privilegiorum violatio, oppressio universalis, indignorum ad honores et magistratus promotio, alienigenae, caritas annonae, milites incuriose dimissi, factiones factae desperatae. Quicquid denique populum offendit, simulque eos in caussa communi unit et conspirare facit.
But indeed, although it is true that not every vapor ends in a tempest, so on the other hand it can truly be said that tempests, although they more often pass through, at length are massed and rush down; and, according to that Spanish adage, the cord at the end is snapped by the very slightest tension.
9. The causes of seditions are these: innovations in matters of religion; taxes and assessments; change of laws and customs; violation of immunities and privileges; universal oppression; the promotion of the unworthy to honors and magistracies; foreigners; dearness of the grain-supply; soldiers carelessly discharged; factions rendered desperate. In fine, whatever offends the people, and at the same time unites them in a common cause and makes them conspire.
10. Quantum ad remedia. Preservativa quaedam confuse et in genere possunt assignari, de quibus disseremus. Curatio autem legitima morbo particulari aptari debet.
10. As to remedies. Certain preservatives can be assigned confusedly and in general, about which we shall discourse. But the legitimate cure ought to be fitted to the particular disease.
11. Primum contra seditiones remedium et praeventio haec est, omni cum opera et diligentia caussam illam seditionum materialem, de qua dimixus amovere. paupertatem intelligo civium et inopiam.
Therefore they should be left to counsel rather than to precept.
11. The first remedy and prevention against seditions is this: with every effort and diligence to remove that material cause of seditions, of which we have spoken: I mean the poverty and want of the citizens.
To which it serves to free up and to well balance the accounts of commerce, to introduce and foster artisans and manufactures, to rout sloth and idleness, to restrain luxury and profusion by sumptuary laws, to bring the soil and fields under the most lucrative cultivation, to impose just prices upon saleable goods, to moderate census and tributes, and the like. In general it must be guarded against that the multitude of inhabitants (in times, namely, of peace, when the sword reaps nothing) should not exceed the produce of the realm, by which it can be sustained. Nor is the multitude of inhabitants, whether it be superfluous or not, to be reckoned solely by a head-count.
Let there be fewer who pour forth much and gain little; those would wear down the state more than many more who live with greater parsimony and, moreover, heap up monies. Therefore, an increased number of nobles and of men of more eminent dignity impoverishes the state more quickly, beyond the proportion of the plebeians. This a numerous clergy also brings about.
12. Neque praetereundum est quod, cum omne publicae opulentiae augmentum ab exteris nationibus lucrifieri necesse sit (quicquid enim alicubi adiicitur, alibi detrahitur), tria tantum esse quas gens genti vendit, materiam mercium, manufacturam, et vecturam.
For they add nothing to the fortune of the commonwealth. The same also happens when more are educated in letters than those for whom the civil vocations can supply a livelihood.
12. Nor must it be passed over that, since every augmentation of public opulence must needs be gained from foreign nations (for whatever is added somewhere is subtracted elsewhere), there are only three things which a nation sells to a nation: the material of merchandise, the manufacture, and the carriage.
These three wheels, if they proceed rightly, will make the tides of riches more abundant. More often, however, that happens of which the poet speaks, the work will surpass the material, namely that manufacture and carriage exceed the price of the material, and enrich the state the more. Manifest witnesses of this are the people of Lower Germany, who indeed have mines—not subterranean but above ground—the richest before all nations.
13. Nihil autem prius debet esse aut consultius quam ut videat magistratuum prudentia, nec pecuniarum thesauri apud paucos recondantur. Aliter enim facile fuerit rempublicam inter magnas opes fame perire. Nummus autem instar fimi non fructificat, nisi per terram dispergatur.
13. Nothing, moreover, ought to be prior or more advised than that the prudence of the magistrates should see to it that the treasuries of money are not hidden among a few. Otherwise indeed it would easily be that the commonwealth, amid great riches, would perish by hunger. Money, however, in the likeness of manure does not fructify, unless it is scattered over the land.
14. Quantum ad sedandas animorum offensiones, aut saltem ad amolienda ea quae ab iis proveniunt pericula, duo sunt in omni statu (ut notum est) subditorum genera, proceres et plebes. Quaevis harum partium sola, si infensa sit, non magnum subest periculum.
This is brought about chiefly by suppressing, or at least restraining, those chasms of usury, monopolies, and latifundia converted into pasture, and the like.
14. As for soothing resentments of mind, or at least removing the dangers that arise from them, there are in every state (as is known) two classes of subjects, the nobles and the commons. Either of these parties by itself, if hostile, presents no great danger.
For the movements of the people are tardy, unless they are incited by the nobles. But the nobles are weak, unless the mob is of its own accord apt and predisposed to movements. Then danger truly presses on, when the more powerful wait until the waters are stirred among the crowd, so that only then they may be able to lay bare the exulcerated spirits.
Poets feign that the celestial inhabitants conspired to conquer Jove. When Jove learned this, by Minerva’s counsel he summoned Briareus the Hundred-Handed, that he might come to his succor. Beyond doubt this emblem warns monarchs how safe and salutary it is for them to conciliate and retain the plebs’ favor.
15. Licentiam nonnullam, sed moderatam, animis gravate affectis et malevolis indulgere, ut ebulliant eorum dolores et in fumos abeant (modo insolentia absit et audacia) utile sane est. Qui enim humores ad interiores partes retrovertit, et vulnus in viscera sanguinem refundere compellit, ulcera mortifera et exitiala apostema inducit.
16. Ad molliendos exacerbatos et malevolos animos, partes Epimethei etiam ad Prometheum rite transferri possint.
15. To indulge some license, but moderate, to minds grievously affected and malevolent, so that their pains may boil over and pass into smoke (provided insolence and audacity are absent), is assuredly useful. For whoever turns the humors back to the inner parts, and compels the blood of the wound to flow back into the vitals, produces deadly ulcers and destructive abscesses.
16. For the mollifying of exacerbated and malevolent minds, the parts of Epimetheus also may rightly be transferred to Prometheus.
For no remedy is found more useful. When he perceived the evils and hardships to be flying out, he swiftly set a lid upon the vessel, and at the bottom of the jar he reserved hope. Certainly, to nourish and instill hope, and to lead men from one hope to another, politically and artfully, is among the strongest antidotes against the venom of malevolence.
17. Trita sane est sed praecellens periculorum, quae malevolentiae minantur, cautio, ut praevideatur ne sit caput aliquod ad quod populus infensus et exacerbatus confluere, et sub cuius praesidio in corpus aliquod coire, possit.
Nor is there a surer indication of prudent governance and administration of affairs than when it can hold men by hope, when the means of giving satisfaction are not afforded, and when matters are so providently handled that no evil seems to threaten so peremptorily but that some crack of hope shows itself for escape. Which is all the less difficult to do, because it is innate both in private men and in factions to flatter themselves, or at least to ostentate, for their own glory, what they do not altogether believe.
17. Hackneyed indeed, yet a pre-eminent precaution against the dangers which malevolence threatens, is to foresee that there be not some head to whom a people, hostile and exasperated, may flock, and under whose protection they could coalesce into some body.
18. Ubique hoc obtinet quod factiosas potentias et coitiones, quae contra gubernatorem imperii frontem contrahunt, inter se committere, aut saltem diffidentiam inter eas seminare, remedium haud contemnendum sit.
By “head” I mean that man and a fit leader who is celebrated for nobility and reputation, and who is acceptable and gracious among the malevolent, to whom faces and eyes have converged, and who himself, too, is reckoned as aggrieved in his private affairs. The sort of men of this kind must either be conciliated to the state, and that not perfunctorily but solidly, or else be blunted by means of some other person from the same party, who may set himself against that other and draw the popular favor in a different direction and divide it.
18. Everywhere this holds: that to set at odds among themselves the factious powers and coalitions which draw together a front against the governor of the commonwealth, or at least to sow distrust among them, is a remedy not to be contemned.
19. Adnotavi saepius ingeniosa et arguta dicteria, quae principibus improvisio exciderunt, nonnunquam scintillas ad seditiones iniecisse. Exitiale sibi vulnus inflixit Caesar eo dicto, Sylla nescivit literas, dictare non potuit.
Indeed, it goes very ill with the commonwealth if those who are well disposed toward the imperium turn out to be full of discords, while those who are hostile and malign are tightly conjoined.
19. I have often noted that ingenious and sharp witticisms, which slipped unpremeditated from princes, have sometimes thrown sparks into seditions. Caesar inflicted on himself a deadly wound by that saying, “Sulla did not know his letters; he could not dictate.”
20. Postremo, in omnes eventus habeant circa se principes personas nonnullas militia et fortitudine spectatas ad reprimendas seditiones in primis motibus.
It truly concerns princes, in ambiguous matters and anxious times, to beware what they say, especially in these concise sentences which, as it were, fly like darts and are thought to have been sent forth from the secret of their breast. For longer and more protracted discourses are blunt and are less noted.
20. Finally, for all contingencies let princes have about them some persons proven in military service and fortitude, to repress seditions in their first stirrings.
This indeed, if it be lacking, there is wont to be more trepidation in the courts of princes when the crowds first burst forth than were fitting. And the situation labors under that kind of peril which Tacitus intimates in those words: that few would dare the worst deed, more would wish it, all would tolerate it. But those military men ought to be altogether faithful and of good reputation, rather than factious or popular, and well matched with the other grandees.
1. Minus durum est credere portentosissimus fabulis Alcorani, Talmudi, aut legendae, quam credere huic universitatis rerum fabricae mentem non adesse. Itaque Deus nunquam edidit miraculum ad atheismum convincendum, quoniam opera eius ordinaria huic rei sufficiunt. Verum est tamen parum philosophiae naturalis homines inclinare in atheismum, at altiorem scientiam eos ad religionem circumagere.
1. It is less hard to believe the most portentous fables of the Alcoran, the Talmud, or the Legend, than to believe that to this fabric of the universe of things Mind is not present. Therefore God never produced a miracle to convince atheism, since his ordinary works suffice for this. It is true, however, that a little natural philosophy inclines men toward atheism, but higher science turns them back to religion.
For indeed the human intellect, while it beholds second causes scattered, can sometimes acquiesce in them and not penetrate further. But when at length it proceeds to contemplate the chain of them, connected among themselves and confederated, it is compelled to take refuge in Providence and Deity. Nay, even that school which is chiefly accused of atheism, if one truly look into the matter, demonstrates religion most clearly—namely, the school of Leucippus, Democritus, and Epicurus.
For indeed it is far more verisimilar that the four mutable elements and a fifth essence immutable, rightly located from eternity, should have no need of God’s operation, than that a host of atoms and infinite seeds, wandering fortuitously without order, could have generated this order and beauty of things without some divine aedile. Scripture says, “The fool has said in his heart, There is no God.” It does not say, “The fool has thought in his heart.”
To such a degree that he asserts this within himself rather as a thing which he would willingly desire than as something he thoroughly believes and feels. For no one believes that the gods do not exist, except one for whom it is expedient that the gods not exist. By no other thing, assuredly, is it more convincingly shown that atheism sits only upon the lips, and least of all in the heart, than by this: that atheists often proclaim and defend their opinion as if they were diffident of themselves, and wished to be refreshed by the consensus of others.
Moreover, you may see atheists sometimes procuring disciples for themselves, as other sects do. Nay, and—what is like a monstrosity—certain of them have undergone death and torments rather than endure to retract their opinion; and yet, if from the heart they felt that nothing such as God exists, what, pray, would they be so anxious about in that matter? It is imputed to Epicurus that, for the sake of preserving his reputation, he maintained that there do indeed exist certain blessed natures, but that they enjoy themselves and do not meddle in the administration of the world.
In which opinion they say he complied with the times, whereas in truth he did not think that gods existed. But, as it seems, he is accused with less justice. For his words are outstanding and divine: it is not profane to deny the gods of the crowd, but to apply the crowd’s opinions to the gods is profane.
Plato himself could not have spoken better. Whence it seems that, although he was strong in audacity to deny the admiration of divine things, yet that did not suffice for him to abolish their nature. Hence the Westerners proclaim the names of their particular gods, even if they have no general name that signifies God: for example, just as the ethnics do the names of Jove, Apollo, Mars, etc.
they would have had these in use, but would have lacked a word by which to express God. Which is ample indication that the most barbarous peoples have a notion of the thing, although they do not comprehend its latitude. So much so that, against atheists, the most feral men fight on the same side as the most subtle philosophers.
The contemplative atheist is rarely found. Diagoras, Bion, and perhaps Lucian, and a few others, who nevertheless seem to be more numerous than they are, since upon all who impugn any religion or superstition the opposing sect is accustomed to brand the name and mark of atheists. But the great atheists, in truth, are the hypocrites, who perpetually handle sacred things, but without sense.
Another cause is the scandals of the priests, when the matter comes back to that point which St. Bernard [remarked]: it is now no longer to be said, “like people, like priest,” for neither is the people such as the priest. The third is the profane custom of lauding and jesting in sacred matters, which gradually wears down the reverence of religion. Lastly, erudite ages are to be reckoned, especially when conjoined with peace and prosperous affairs.
But if, so far as concerns the soul, no cognation with God intervenes for it, it is plainly a vile and ignoble creature. They also destroy magnanimity and the exaltation of human nature. For take an example from a dog and observe how much spirit that animal assumes to itself, and what nobility it puts on, when it perceives itself to be urged on by a man (who is to it in the place of God or of a better nature).
You clearly discern that such fortitude is so great as that creature, without confidence in a nature better than its own, could in no way equal. Likewise, man also, when he leans and places his hope in divine providence and grace, will collect confidence and powers such as human nature, left to itself, could not have attained. Wherefore, just as atheism in all things merits hatred, so also in this: that it deprives human nature of the faculty of raising itself beyond human fragility.
As it is among individual persons, so likewise it is among nations. No nation has ever equaled Roman magnanimity. Hear, then, what Cicero says: although, as much as we wish, Conscript Fathers, we may love ourselves, yet neither in number do we surpass the Spaniards, nor in strength the Gauls, nor in shrewdness the Carthaginians, nor in arts the Greeks, nor, finally, in that very domestic and native sensibility of this people and land the Italians themselves and the Latins; but by piety and religion, and by this one wisdom—that we have perceived that all things are ruled and governed by the numen of the immortal gods—we have surpassed all peoples and nations.
1. Praestat nullam aut incertam de Deo habere opinionem, quam contumeliosam et Deo indignam. Alterum enim infidelitatis est, alterum impietatis et opprobrii. Ac superstitio certe divinitatis est dedecus.
1. It is better to have no opinion about God, or an uncertain one, than a contumelious and God-unworthy one. For the former is of unbelief, the latter of impiety and opprobrium. And surely superstition is a disgrace to divinity.
Plutarch, not without reason, says: I would indeed much rather by far that men should say that there had never been such a man in the nature of things as the man who was reported to be Plutarch, than that they should say there had been a certain Plutarch who was accustomed to eat and devour his children newly born, which the poets relate about Saturn. And just as the contumely of superstition grows grievous against God, so too a greater peril from it presses upon men. Atheism does not altogether tear up the dictates of sense, nor philosophy, nor the natural affections, laws, the desire of good fame.
For it introduces a new primum mobile, which sweeps along all the spheres of dominion. The people is the master of superstition, and in every superstition the wise defer to the foolish, and arguments yield to practice, in a perverted order. Weighty was that address of certain prelates in the Council of Trent, in which the doctrine of the scholastic theologians prevailed very greatly.
Nay certainly, the scholastics were like the astronomers who feigned eccentric circles and epicycles and engines of the orbs of this sort in order to save the phenomena, even if they well knew that nothing of the kind really existed. In the same manner also the scholastics invented many subtle and perplexed axioms and theorems, so that the practice of the church might be safeguarded. The causes of superstition are pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies; excesses of external and Pharisaic sanctity; a reverence for traditions greater than is meet, which cannot but load the church; the stratagems of prelates, which they employ for their own ambition and gain; an excessive favoring of good intentions, which opens the door to novelties and ethelothreskies; the unseasonable and inept borrowing of examples from human things which are transferred into divine things, which necessarily begets a mixture of ill-cohering fantasies; lastly, barbarous times conjoined with calamities and perturbations.
Superstition, without a veil, is a deformed thing. For indeed, just as the similitude of an ape with a man adds deformity, so too does the similitude with religion to superstition. And just as healthful foods are corrupted into maggots, so good and sound rites and formulas are corrupted into petty and superfluous observances.
Nay, even the flight from superstition is sometimes not free of superstition, when men think that they enter a way the sounder and purer the farther they have turned aside from superstitions previously received. Therefore there ought to be care in the reformation of religion (as is done in purging the body), lest the sound be evacuated together with the corrupt—something that almost happens whenever reformation is governed by the people.
1. Peregrinatio in partes exteras in iunioribus pars institutionis est, in senioribus pars experientiae. Qui proficiscitur in partes exteras antequam in lingua gentis quam adit aliquos fecit progressus ad ludum grammaticum vadit, non ad peregrinandum. Ut adolescentes peregrinentur sub tutore aut servo aliquo experto, probo, modo talis sit qui linguam calleat, quique regionem illam ante adiverit, unde possit eos instruere quae in illa regione ubi peregrinantur digna spectatu et cognitu sint, quae amicitiae et familiaritates contrahendae, quae denique studia et disciplinae ibi vigeant.
1. Peregrination into foreign parts is, for the younger, a part of education; for the older, a part of experience. He who sets out into foreign parts before he has made some progress in the language of the nation he is to visit goes to the grammar school, not to peregrinate. Let adolescents travel under a tutor or some servant who is experienced and of probity—provided he be such a one as is master of the tongue, and who has previously visited that region—so that he can instruct them what in that region where they travel is worthy to behold and to know, what friendships and familiarities are to be contracted, and, finally, what studies and disciplines there flourish.
For otherwise adolescents will peregrinate hooded and looking outwards little. It is certainly marvelous that on navigations, where nothing is given to be seen except heaven and the sea, people are accustomed to compose diaries, but on peregrinations by land, in which so many things occur that are to be observed, this is for the most part omitted—as if fortuitous things more deserved to be referred into little codicils than those which are observed by industry. Therefore let diaries be in use.
The things to be looked at and observed are these: the courts of princes, especially when they admit foreign legates; judicial trials and curiae, when causes are fully pleaded, and likewise ecclesiastical consistories; temples and monasteries, with the monuments standing in them; the walls and fortifications of cities and towns; ports and bays; antiquities and ruins; libraries, colleges, disputations, and lectures where they are held; ships and keels; palaces and gardens magnificent and pleasant near great cities; armories; dockyards, store-rooms and public granaries; places of exchange; bourses; warehouses of wares; exercises of horsemanship, of the gladiatorial craft, the muster and training of soldiers, with the like; comedies, namely those to which men of better note come to view; treasuries of jewels and garments; curiosities and rarities; finally, whatever in the places they pass through is famous or memorable. Concerning all these, diligent inquiry must be made from the aforesaid tutors or servants. As for triumphs, masked dances, banquets, weddings, funerals, capital punishments, and spectacles of this kind, there is no need that they be recalled to men’s memory.
Nevertheless, those things are certainly not to be altogether neglected. If it is dear to your heart to reduce the fruit of the adolescent’s peregrination into a compendium, and that he gather much in a brief span, I prescribe that this be done. First (as has been said) some progress in the language must be made before he sets out.
For this too is certainly a magnet for attracting the familiarities and associations of many people. Let him for the most part seclude himself from the fellowship of his own countrymen, and live in those places where men of better note, from the nation in which he travels, banquet together. Also, when he journeys from place to place, let him procure for himself letters commendatory to some more eminent person residing in the place to which he transfers himself, that he may use his favor and assistance in those things which he desires to behold or to come to know.
In this manner he will be able to accelerate the utility of peregrination. Insofar as concerns the familiarities and friendships that are to be adjoined while traveling, the most useful of all is that of the secretaries and inner ministers whom envoys employ. For by this method, by traveling in one region, he will even attract and suck in to himself the knowledge and experience of several regions.
Let him also visit and approach persons in each category who are outstanding, who are of great name among foreigners, that he may be able to note how the face, the countenance, and the lineaments and motions of the body answer to their fame. As for quarrels and enmities, with care and diligence they are to be avoided. They arise most often around loves, compotations, precedence, and contumelious words.
And let each man, first and foremost, beware of the consort of irascible men and of those who easily take up enmities; for they will embroil him in their contentions. When a traveler returns home, nonetheless let him not leave the regions in which he has traveled wholly behind him; rather, let him preserve and cultivate the friendship of those with whom he has contracted familiarity (I mean those who are of the more distinguished) by letters.
And let his pilgrimage rather be manifested and appear in his speech than in his dress or gesture. Also in his speech let him rather meditate what he may soberly answer, than be easy and prone to narrations. Let this likewise be conspicuous in him: that he has not exchanged the ancestral manners for foreign manners, but rather that he has sprinkled the native customs with those things which he learned abroad, as with flowers.
1. Miser proculdubio est animi status pauca habere quae appetas, multa quae metuas. Attamen hoc ipsum regibus proprium est, qui in supremo gradu collocati non habent ad quod aspirent, id quod animos eorum reddit languidiores. Atque e contra habent phantasmata plurima periculorum et umbrarum volitantium, id quod animos eorum reddit minus serenos.
1. Wretched, beyond doubt, is the state of mind to have few things that you desire, and many that you fear. Yet this very thing is proper to kings, who, placed in the supreme rank, have nothing to which they may aspire, which renders their spirits more languid. And on the contrary they have a great many phantasms of dangers and of flitting shadows, which renders their minds less serene.
Hence there also emanates that other effect which Scripture attributes to kings: that the heart of a king is inscrutable. For indeed the multitude of suspicions, and the absence of any predominant affection that might command the rest, renders anyone’s mind difficult to explore. Hence too there emanates this, that kings very often create desires for themselves, and apply their mind to trifles: sometimes to erecting edifices, sometimes to establishing some order or college; sometimes to promoting some person; sometimes to exercising some mechanical art or excellence of the hand, as Nero devoted himself to striking the cithara, Domitian to aiming with arrows, Commodus to the gladiatorial art, Caracalla to charioteering.
To those who do not know that axiom, it seems incredible: that the human mind is more exhilarated and refreshed by progressing in small matters than by standing still in great ones. One may also see that kings who at the beginnings of their rule were most felicitous in victories and in subjugating provinces—since it is scarcely possible that they should make perpetual progresses, but rather that they should at times experience their fortune adverse and retrograde—have in the end turned out superstitious and melancholic; as befell Alexander the Great, Diocletian, and in our age Charles V and others. For he who has been accustomed always to advance and at length strikes upon an obstacle, falls out of favor with himself, and is no longer the thing he once was.
2. Dicamus nunc de vera imperii temperatura, quam servare res ardua est et rara. Etenim tam temperies quam intemperies ex contrariis consistunt. verum alia res est contraria miscere, alia alternare.
2. Let us now speak of the true temperament of empire, which to preserve is an arduous and rare matter. For both a temperate condition and an intemperate one consist of contraries. But it is one thing to mix contraries, another to alternate them.
3. Veruntamen et hoc verum est, moderni temporis prudentiam circa principum negotia tractanda in hoc potissimum versari, ut conquirantur magis et aptentur remedia et subterfugia malorum et periculorum cum ingruerint, quam ut prudentia solida et constanti depellantur et summoveantur antequam impendeant. Verum hoc nihil aliud est quam in agone cum fortuna experiri.
And it is most certain that nothing so destroys authority as an unequal and, so to speak, subsultory and untimely alternation of power—now strained too rigidly, now relaxed too loosely.
3. Nevertheless this also is true: the prudence of the modern time, in handling the affairs of princes, is occupied chiefly with this—that remedies and subterfuges against evils and dangers are rather sought out and fitted when they have rushed in, than that by solid and constant prudence they be driven off and removed before they threaten. But this is nothing else than to make trial in the agon with fortune.
Let men beware, however, lest they fall asleep over the raw materials and inchoations of tumults. For no one can prevent a spark destined to beget a conflagration, nor can anyone measure the regions whence it is going to burst forth. In the affairs of princes there undoubtedly intervene many difficulties and impediments, but very often the greatest impediments are the affections and the mores of the princes themselves.
4. Regibus intercedit negotium cum nationibus vicinis, cum uxoribus propriis, cum liberis suis, cum praelatis et clero, cum proceribus regni, cum nobilibus secundae classis sive generosis, cum mercatoribus suis, cum plebe regni, cum militibus suis.
For indeed it frequently befalls princes to crave plainly contradictory things, as Tacitus rightly [says]: very often the wills in affairs are vehement and mutually contrary. But it is a solecism of excessive power to believe that one can attain the end of a matter at one’s pleasure, and yet not to procure the means.
4. Business intervenes for kings with neighboring nations, with their own wives, with their children, with prelates and the clergy, with the grandees of the realm, with nobles of the second class or gentry, with their merchants, with the commons of the realm, with their soldiery.
5. Quod ad vicinos attinet, praescribi non potest regula aliqua certa cautionis propter occasionum varietate, unica excepta quae semper tenet. Ea est ut principes huic rei perpetuo inviglent ne quis ex vicinis in tantum excrescat (vel novis territorii augmentis, vel commercium ad se trahendo, vel proprius accedendo, et similibus) quo maiorem nanciscatur laedendi potestatem quam antea habuerat.
And from each of these dangers threaten, unless care be applied.
5. As regards neighbors, no certain rule of caution can be prescribed because of the variety of occasions, with a single exception that always holds. This is: that princes keep perpetual watch over this matter, lest any of the neighbors grow so far (either by new augmentations of territory, or by drawing commerce to himself, or by coming closer, and the like) as to acquire a greater power of injuring than he previously had.
Assuredly, during that triumvirate of kings (Henry VIII the Englishman, Francis I the Frenchman, and Charles V the Spaniard) such diligence flourished among them that none of the three could have acquired so much as a palm’s breadth of land without the remaining two immediately bringing the matter back to equilibrium, nor would they endure to redeem peace by usury. The same was effected by that league (to which Guicciardini attributes the security of Italy) struck between Ferdinand, king of Naples, Lorenzo de’ Medici, and Ludovico Sforza, princes—the one of Florence, the other of Milan. Nor is the opinion of certain of the scholastics to be admitted, that war cannot be justly undertaken unless on account of a preceding injury or provocation.
6. Quantum ad uxores, extant exempla eius generis crudelia et atrocia. Livia infamis ob veneficium Augusti.
For a just fear of imminent peril, even if no violence has preceded, is without doubt a competent and legitimate cause of war.
6. As for wives, examples of that kind, cruel and atrocious, are extant. Livia, infamous on account of the poisoning of Augustus.
Roxolana, wife of Solyman, brought destruction upon Mustapha, that most celebrated prince, and otherwise perturbed the succession and the house of her husband. The wife of Edward II, king of England, furnished principal assistance in the overthrow of her husband from the kingdom and in his killing. This kind of danger is most to be feared, when queens have borne children by a prior husband, or live in adultery.
7. Quantum ad liberos, ab iis etiam ortae tragoediae plurimae. Atque generaliter, suspiciones arreptae a patribus in filios suos infaustae extiterunt. Mustaphae (quem antea nominavimus) caedes stirpi Solymanni adeo fatalis fuit ut succession sultanorum usque in hodiernum diem pro suspecto habeatur, velut sanguinis ementiti, quia Solymus secundus putabatur supposititius.
7. As for children, from them too very many tragedies have arisen. And, generally, suspicions taken up by fathers against their own sons have proved ill-omened. The slaughter of Mustapha (whom we named before) was so fatal for the stock of Solyman that the succession of the sultans down to the present day is held suspect, as though of counterfeit blood, because Solymus II was thought to be supposititious.
The killing also of Crispus, a prince of the highest promise, inflicted by his own father Constantine the Great, was likewise fatal to that family. For both Constantine and Constans, his sons, perished by a violent death, and Constantius, who of his sons survived, died indeed of disease, but not until Julian had taken up arms against him. Similarly, the killing of Demetrius, son of Philip II of Macedon, turned upon the father, who died of grief and remorse.
8. Quantum ad praelatos, ab illis etiam, si potentes fuerint et superbi, periculum ingruit.
There are many examples of this kind. But few or none where fathers reaped anything good from such diffidences, except when sons openly brought war against their fathers, as Solymus the First did against his father Bajazet, and as the three sons of Henry II, king of England, did.
8. As for prelates, from them too, if they have been powerful and proud, danger impends.
9. Quantum ad proceres, sunt illi certe cohibendi, et tanquam in iusta distantia a solio regali continendi.
As befell in the times of Anselm and Thomas Becket, Archbishops of Canterbury, whose pastoral staves contended with the king’s sword, although their affair was with high-spirited and fastuous kings, William Rufus, Henry I, and Henry II. But peril of this kind from prelates is not greatly to be feared, unless where the clergy depends upon the authority and jurisdiction of a foreign principate, or also where ecclesiastics are chosen by the people, and not by the king or the patrons of the churches.
9. As for the nobles, they surely must be restrained, and kept, as it were, at a just distance from the royal throne.
However, the depression of them may perhaps render the king himself more absolute, but meanwhile less safe, and less efficacious for accomplishing the things he desires. This I noted in my History of the Reign of Henry VII, who continually kept his nobles down. Whence it came about that his times were full of difficulties and tumults.
10. Quatenus ad nobiles secundae classis, parum periculi ab illis manare potest, cum sint corpus dispersum. Poterint illi quidem nonnumquam grandia loqui, sed non multum nocere.
For the nobles, even if they remained in faith and duty toward him, nevertheless they cooperated with him not at all in his affairs, so that he sustained almost everything alone.
10. As far as concerns nobles of the second class, little danger can emanate from them, since they are a dispersed body. They indeed can sometimes speak grandly, but not do much harm.
11. Quod ad mercatores, sunt illi instar venae portae, qui nisi floruerint, potest quidem regnum aliquod artus habere robustos sed venas vacuas et habitum corporis macrum.
Nay rather, they must be fostered, as those who best temper the power of the higher nobility lest it grow immoderately. And again, since they handle directly the helm of the people, they most effectively restrain popular commotions.
11. As for merchants, they are like the portal vein; unless they flourish, a kingdom may indeed have robust limbs, but empty veins and a lean habit of body.
12. Quantum ad plebem, ab iis raro creatur periculum, nisi habeant ductores potentes et populares, au si introducas mutationem in religione, vel in consuetudinibus antiquis, vel in gravaminibus tributorum, vel in aliis quae eorum decurtant.
Excessive taxes and customs dues rarely augment the king’s revenues. For what it gains in the parts it loses in the sum, in proportion as commerce is diminished.
12. As for the plebs, peril is rarely created by them, unless they have leaders both potent and popular; or if you introduce a change in religion, or in ancient customs, or in the burdens of tributes, or in other things that curtail them.
13. Quantum denique ad milites, periculosissima res est, si in corpus unum cogantur vel exercitus vel praesidiorum, et donativis insuescant. Cuius clarissima cernimus exempla in janizariis et praetorianis. Verum militum conscriptio, et ad arma tractanda instructio, et in locis diversis, et sub diversis ducibus, et sine donativis res sunt utiles, et salubres, et sine periculo.
13. Finally, as regards the soldiers, it is a most perilous matter if either the army or the garrisons are forced into one body and grow accustomed to donatives. Of which we behold the clearest examples in the Janissaries and the Praetorians. But the conscription of soldiers, and instruction to handle arms, and their being in diverse places, and under diverse leaders, and without donatives, are things useful, salutary, and without danger.
14. Principes corporibus coelestibus similes, quae tempora felicia aut infelicia in fluxu suo producunt, quaeque veneratione multa gaudent, requie nulla. Omnia circa reges praecepta duobus illis monitus clauduntur, memento quod es homo et memento quod es Deus, seu vice Dei. Quorum alterum pertinet ad potestatem eorum coercendam, alterum ad voluntatem regendem.
14. Princes are like celestial bodies, which in their own flux produce fortunate or unfortunate times, and which enjoy much veneration, with no rest. All precepts concerning kings are enclosed in those two admonitions: remember that you are a man, and remember that you are a God, or in the stead of God. Of which the one pertains to coercing their power, the other to governing their will.
1. Summa quae intercedit inter homines fides, et illa consilium impertiendi. Etenim in alio quovis fidei genere partes tantum vitae aliis commendamus, terras, bona, liberos, existimationis, et alia negotia particularia. Verum iis quos nobis consiliarios adhibemus omnia mandamus.
1. The highest trust that obtains between men is that of imparting counsel. For in any other kind of trust we commend only parts of life to others—lands, goods, children, matters of reputation, and other particular affairs. But to those whom we admit as counselors for ourselves, we commit everything.
How much more are those who perform the parts of counselors bound to all integrity and sincerity. Let princes, even the most prudent, by no means take it as a diminution of authority if they make use of the counsel of selected men. Indeed, God himself is not vacant of counsel, but among the great names of his blessed Son he sets that he be called Counselor.
Certainly such is Solomon’s pronouncement: in counsel, stability. Human affairs will undoubtedly undergo either a first or a second agitation: if they are not tossed by the arguments of consultations, surely they will be tossed by the waves of fortune. And they will turn out full of inconstancy and changes, now to be woven, now to be unwoven, in the manner of the vacillations of a drunken man.
Indeed the son of Solomon experienced the force of counsel, just as his father saw its necessity and use. For the kingdom beloved of God was at the first torn and broken by evil counsel. And upon that counsel were branded, that they might be for our instruction, those two marks by which evil counsels may forever be discerned: one, that the counsel was youthful as to the persons; the other, that it was violent as to the subject.
2. Sapientia veterum in parabola adumbravit tam unionem et insolubilem coniunctionem consilii cum regibus, quam prudentem et politicum usum eiusdem per reges adhibendum. Alterum in eo, quod Iovem narrant Metim (quae vox consilium significat) in uxorem duxisse, in quo innuunt consilium imperio sponsae loco esse. Alterum in eo quod sequitur, quod huiusmodi commentum est.
2. The wisdom of the ancients adumbrated in parable both the union and indissoluble conjunction of counsel with kings, and the prudent and politic use of the same to be applied by kings. The first in this: that they relate Jupiter to have taken Metis (which word signifies counsel) as his wife, wherein they intimate that counsel stands to empire in the place of a bride. The other in what follows, which is a fiction of this kind.
They hand down that, after Metis had been wed to Jove, she became pregnant by him; but that Jove could not endure to wait until she should bring forth, and so devoured her; whence he himself also became pregnant, and brought forth Pallas, armed, from his head. This portentous fable veils the arcane of imperium. Namely this: in what manner kings ought to bear themselves more reverently toward their counsel—first, that they commit to it the matters to be deliberated, which is as it were the first conception; second, when these have been worked out and shaped, as if in the womb of their counsel, and have matured and are near to birth, then at last let them no longer permit their counsel to consummate the decree, as if the matter depended on its authority, but let them draw the business back to themselves and make it plain to all that the final decrees and ordinances (which, since they go forth with prudence and with power, are likened to Pallas armed) issue from themselves, and that they come not only from their authority, but also (that they may the more exalt their repute) from their own wit and proper authority.
3. Dicamus iam de incommodis consilii, et de ipsorum remediis. Incommoda quae se produnt in consilio utendo et adhibendo sunt tria. Primo quod haec res negotio minus reddat secreta.
3. Let us now speak of the inconveniences of counsel, and of their remedies. The inconveniences which present themselves in using and employing counsel are three. First, that this matter makes the business less secret.
Secondly, that it seems to derogate from the authority of princes, as if things depended less upon themselves. Thirdly, that there lies a danger from unfaithful counsels, which tend rather to the advantage of the counselor than of the prince himself. To avoid which evils, the doctrine of certain men among the Italians, and the practice among the French, in the times of certain kings, introduced inner councils which are commonly called cabinets, a remedy indeed worse than the disease.
4. Quantum ad occultationem consiliorum, non tenentur principes omnia cum omnibus consiliariis communicare, sed tam personas quam negotia cum delectu excerpere possunt. Neque necesse est principi qui deliberat quid sit agendum simul detegere quid in animo habeat statuere. Verum caveant principes ne propalationis negotiorum suorum ipsi in causa sint.
4. As regards the occultation/concealment of counsels, princes are not bound to communicate everything with all the counselors, but they can select both persons and affairs with discrimination. Nor is it necessary for a prince who deliberates what is to be done to disclose at the same time what he has in mind to determine. But let princes beware lest they themselves be the cause of the divulgation of their affairs.
Insofar, however, as concerns the cabinet councils we spoke of, that proverb applies to them: “I am full of cracks.” Some futile fellow who has counted it a glory for himself to know the arcana and to uncover them will do more harm than many who well know that it is their duty to keep the same unspoken. It is true that certain affairs of this kind occur which require the highest occultation, such as will not easily pass beyond the knowledge of one or two besides the king himself.
Nor do counsels of this kind usually turn out ill. For besides being secret, they for the most part proceed steadily and are governed, as if by one spirit, without contention. But this will succeed rightly only if the king is prudent and strong by his own prowess, and at the same time those counselors are sagacious and faithful to all the ends that the king proposes to himself—something that befell Henry VII, king of England, who imparted his secrets of greater moment to only two counselors, Morton and Fox.
5. Quantum ad auctoritatem minuendam, fabula remedium monstrat. Imo maiestas regum exaltatur potius quam deprimitur cum in cathedra consilii sedeant. Neque unquam invenire est principem auctoritate sua imminutum per consilium suum, nisi forte ubi obtigerit potentia nimio in uno aliquo consiliario, aut nimis arcta combinatio inter diversos.
5. As for the diminishing of authority, the fable shows a remedy. Nay rather, the majesty of kings is exalted rather than depressed when they sit in the chair of the council. Nor is it ever found that a prince has been diminished in his authority by his council, unless perhaps where power has chanced to be excessive in some one counselor, or there is an overly close combination among the different ones.
6. Quantum ad postremum incommodum, consiliarios nimirum in consilio dando suae rei prospecturos, non domini, minime dubium est scripturam illam non inveniet fidem super terram intelligi debere de natura temporum, minime de personis singulis. Reperiuntur siquidem viri fideles, sinceri, candidi, et veraces, minime vafri aut involuti.
These two evils are quickly detected and cured.
6. As for the last inconvenience—namely, that counselors, in giving counsel, will look to their own affair, not their lord’s—it is by no means doubtful that that Scripture, “shall not find faith upon the earth,” ought to be understood of the nature of the times, not at all of individual persons. For indeed there are found men faithful, sincere, candid, and veracious, in no way wily or convoluted.
Let princes, before all else, attach to themselves talents of such a kind. Moreover, counselors are rarely so united among themselves that one does not keep watch over another; to such a degree that, if anyone should give counsels that are factious or aiming at private ends, this will quickly come to the prince’s ears.
7. Contra vero consiliarios non decet nimios esse rimatores in personam principis sui. Vera enim consiliarii constitutio haec, ut peritior sit in negotiis principis quam in moribus eius. Sic enim verisimile fiet sum consilium potius recta directurum quam se principi accommodaturum quo complaceat.
7. On the contrary, it does not befit counselors to be excessive probers into the person of their prince. For the true constitution of a counselor is this: that he be more expert in the prince’s affairs than in his morals. Thus it will be likely that his counsel will rather direct things aright than that he will accommodate himself to the prince in order to please him.
This also can be of great use to princes, if they receive the opinions and votes of their councils both separately and conjointly. For indeed an opinion brought forth in secret is much freer, but that which is given in the presence of others is weightier. For in private each man serves his own affections more; in the fellowship of others he is more subject to the affections of others.
For indeed all things are as dead images, but the life of action consists chiefly in the choice of persons. Nor is it sufficient to deliberate about persons according to genera, as in a certain idea or mathematical description, what sort of character and condition the person ought to be. For very great errors intervene, and the balance of judgment is most of all in motion in the selection of individuals.
8. Consilia hac aetate in locis plurimis nihil aliud fere sunt quam congressus et colloquia familiaria, ubi res potius sermonibus iactentur quam debitis argumentis trutinentur. Atque plerunque praecipitanter nimis ad decretum vel actum consilii properatur. Satius esset si in maioris momenti negotiis res uno die deliberanda proponeretur, altero tracteretur: in nocte consilium.
8. Councils in this age, in very many places, are almost nothing else than gatherings and familiar colloquies, where matters are rather tossed about in speeches than weighed in the balance by due arguments. And for the most part there is too precipitate a haste toward a decree or an act of council. It would be better, in affairs of greater moment, if the matter to be deliberated were proposed on one day, and on the next were handled: there is counsel in the night.
This was certainly carried out in the negotiation of the union between the delegates of England and Scotland, which assembly proceeded regularly and in most excellent order. As for private petitions, I approve that several days be appointed beforehand; for they both indicate to the supplicants fixed times at which they may more conveniently address themselves, and they unburden the more solemn assemblies so that they can attend to this.
In the selection of deputies, who prepare the business to inform the council, it is better to choose those who are equitable and incline to neither side, than to create a kind of equity by introducing some who assiduously favor each party. I also approve delegations, not only temporary or arising from the occasion, but also continued and perpetual. For example, those which separately attend to commerce, the treasury, war, thanks, grievances, and particular provinces.
Surely, where diverse subordinate councils are in use, and there is only a single higher council (as is the case in Spain), councils of this sort are scarcely anything other than perpetual deputations (such as we spoke of), except that they wield greater authority. If the case requires that the council be informed by men of some particular office or profession (as jurists, seamen, coiners [moneyers], merchants, artisans, and the like), let them be heard first before the delegates, and afterwards, as occasion demands, before the council. Nor let them be permitted to come in crowds or to carry themselves in a tribunitian manner.
For this would be to weary the council with clamors, not to present information, as is fitting. An oblong table, and again a square one, or seats along the walls of the council chamber, may seem merely formalities, but they are assuredly realities. For at an oblong table the few who sit in the foremost places transact the business as if by themselves.
But in the other figures which we have mentioned there is greater use of the counselors who sit lower. When the king himself presides in council, let him beware lest he declare his opinion sooner than is proper. If he does this, the counselors will accommodate themselves to his nod, and in place of free counsel they will strike up for him a chant, placebo.
1. Fortuna foro rerum voenalium similis est, ubi saepe (si paululum expectare poteris) minuetur pretium. Rursus, aliquando Sibyllae licitationibus assimilatur, quae primo plenas offert merces, mox partes aliquas consumens integrum tamen pretium postulat. Nam occasio (ut in trito habetur carmine) occipitium nobis obvertit calvum, postquam capillorum in fronte copiam non arripientibus, vel saltem utris ansam praebet primo accipiendam, dein ventrem, qua difficilius comprehenditur.
1. Fortune is like a market of vendible things, where often (if you can wait a little) the price will be diminished. In turn, sometimes it is assimilated to the Sibyl’s auctions, who at first offers full merchandise, soon consuming some parts yet nevertheless demands the entire price. For Occasion (as it is held in a well-worn song) turns toward us a bald occiput, after the abundance of hair on the forehead has not been snatched by those who fail to seize it; or at least, like wineskins, it offers a handle first to be taken, then the belly, by which it is more difficult to be grasped.
Nowhere surely does wisdom appear greater than in choosing timely auspices and beginnings of affairs. Dangers are not slight merely because they seem slight, and more dangers have deceived than have inflicted force. Nay rather, it is better to meet certain dangers, as it were, midway than to be perpetually inquiring into and observing their movement and approach.
For he who keeps too sharp a watch sometimes nods. Conversely, to be deceived by the length of shadows (as certain men once were, when the moon, close to the horizon, was irradiating the enemies’ backs) and thus to launch missiles before their time, or by meeting dangers prematurely to summon them, is the other extreme. For the maturity or immaturity of opportunity (as we said before) must be examined to the exact rule.
And, for the most part, it is expedient to commit the beginnings of all great affairs to Argus with his hundred eyes, but the outcomes to Briareus with his hundred hands—first, namely, to keep watch; afterwards, to accelerate. For the helm of Orcus, which truly rendered the statesman invisible, is the occultation of counsels and the celerity of expeditions. For when it has come to execution, no concealment is comparable to speed, after the manner of a little ball discharged from a piece of ordnance, which passes through so swiftly that it outstrips the very edge of the eyes’ sight.
1. Per astutiam intelligimus sinistram quandam et obliquam prudentiam. Et pro certo est multum interesse inter astutum et prudentem, non solum quatenus ad probitatem, sed etiam quatenus ad mentis vires. Sunt qui chartas pictas artificio quodam miscere sciunt, qui tamen periti lusores non sunt.
1. By astuteness we understand a certain left-handed and oblique prudence. And it is for certain that there is much difference between the astute man and the prudent man, not only as regards probity, but also as regards the powers of the mind. There are those who know how to mix painted cards by a certain artifice, who nevertheless are not expert players.
Likewise there are some who excel greatly in regulating competitions and factions, yet otherwise are weak in judgment. Again, it is one thing to be skilled in the natures and mores of persons, and another to be thoroughly acquainted with business. For there are not a few who are shrewd in the accesses to persons and in timings, and yet are not capable of affairs.
This is the very constitution of those men who have invested their effort in discerning persons, not in unrolling books. Such men are more in practical affairs than in counsels, and they scarcely offer their usefulness otherwise than along the roads they have often worn. Turn them to new men, and their arts fail them.
2. Inter astutias numerari potest ut quis vultum eius cum quo colloquitur limatius observet.
To such a degree that that old rule for distinguishing a fool from a wise man (send both to strangers and you will see) does not hold for men of this sort. Since, moreover, the crafty are like hucksters of petty wares, it will not be out of place to examine their workshops.
2. Among the astutenesses may be numbered this: that one observe more minutely the countenance of the person with whom he is conversing.
3. Altera existit astutia, ut cum aliquid propere et facile obtinere et expedire cupias, personam cum qua agis de alio quopiam negotio sermonem inferendo deteneas et praeoccupes, ne nimium ad obiectiones et scrupulos evigilet. Equidem noveram consiliarium quendam et secretarium qui nunquam ad Elizabetham reginam Angliae ad diplomata manu reginae signanda accessit, quin a principio illam in aliquos de rebus status gravioribus sermonem perduceret, ut hisce intenta ad diplomata minus animum adiiceret.
4. Idem valet subitae prehensionis ratio, si quis rem proponat quando persona cum qua agitur ad alia festinat, neque moram pati potest rem accuratius considerandi.
3. Another astuteness exists, namely that when you desire to obtain and dispatch something quickly and easily, you detain and preoccupy the person with whom you are dealing by introducing talk about some other business, lest she be overly watchful to objections and scruples. Indeed I knew a certain counsellor and secretary who never approached Elizabeth, queen of England, for diplomata to be signed by the queen’s hand, without from the outset leading her into some discourse about more serious affairs of state, so that, intent on these, she gave less attention to the diplomata.
4. The same holds for the method of sudden prehension, if someone should propose the matter when the person with whom one deals is rushing to other things, and cannot endure delay for considering the matter more accurately.
5. Si cui in animo est negotium aliquod destruere quod alius fortasse quispiam dextre et cum effectu propositurus fuisset, ipse se erga negotium bene affectum simulet, atque ipse rem proponat, sed eo modo ut successum eius disturbet.
6. Abruptio sermonis in medio, quasi quis seipsum deprehenderet et contineret, maiorem generat appetitum in eo quocum colloqueris ad ulterius inquirendum.
7. Quoniam autem imprimit fortius quod quaestione erutum est, quam quod sponte oblatum, possis ad inescandam quaestionem insolitum induere vultum, ex quo occasio detur alteri interrogandi quid sibi velit ista oris mutatio?, ut Nehemias fecit, neque ante illud tempus tristis fueram in conspectu regis.
5. If someone has in mind to destroy some business which another perhaps would have proposed dexterously and with effect, let him himself simulate being well-affectioned toward the business, and himself bring the matter forward, but in such a way as to disturb its success.
6. The abruptio of discourse in the midst, as though one had caught and restrained himself, generates a greater appetite in the person with whom you converse for further inquiry.
7. Now since what is extracted by question imprints more strongly than what is proffered of its own accord, you can, for baiting a question, assume an unusual countenance, from which an occasion is given to the other to ask, “what does that change of face mean?”, as Nehemiah did: “nor had I before that time been sad in the king’s presence.”
8. In rebus ambiguis et ingratis bonum est initia de iis sermonem inferendi alicui alteri deputare, cuius verba minoris sint ponderis, et maioris auctoritatis vocem in subsidiis reservare, veluti casu fortuito intervenientem, ut interrogetur ille superveniens de eo sermone, qui ab altero iniectus est. Quod fecit Narcissus cum indicaret Claudio matrimonium Messalinae et Silii.
9. In rebus quas a se amoliri quis cupiat, non inutile est vulgi nomen mutuari, ac si quis tali formula utatur, hoc vulgo dicitur, aut increbuit sermo.
8. In ambiguous and unwelcome matters it is good to assign to some other person the beginnings of introducing discourse about them, whose words carry less weight, and to reserve the voice of greater authority in the reserves, as if intervening by fortuitous chance, so that the one supervening may be questioned about that discourse which was injected by the other. Which Narcissus did when he informed Claudius about the marriage of Messalina and Silius.
9. In matters which one wishes to shift off from oneself, it is not unuseful to borrow the name of the crowd, as if someone should use such a formula: this is said commonly, or the talk has become rife.
10. Noveram quendam qui cum literas scriberet id quod maximi erat momenti postscripto semper includebat, ut rem fere praetermissam.
11. Noveram et alium qui, cum ad colloquium cum alio veniret, id quod maxime ei in sermone curae erat, praeterire solitus erat, et discedere, et rursus redire, et tum demum eius rei mentionem facere ac si illa fere e memoria excidisset.
12. Alii se subito deprehendi procurant tali tempore quo verisimile est partem cui insidiantur superventuram.
10. I knew a certain man who, when he wrote letters, always included that which was of the greatest moment in a postscript, as a matter almost passed over.
11. I knew also another who, when he came to a colloquy with someone else, was accustomed to pass over that which in the conversation was his chief care, and to depart, and to return again, and then at last to make mention of that matter, as if it had almost slipped from memory.
12. Others contrive to be suddenly caught at such a time when it is likely that the party against whom they are lying in wait will come upon them.
13. Astutiae species satis vafra est ea verba proprio nomine prolata sibi excidere pati, quae alium arripere et iis uti quis expetit, ut inde alterum irretiat et subruat. Noveram duos pro officio secretarii tempore reginae Elizabethae competitores, qui tamen se tamen invicem amice tractabant, quique ipso competitionis suae saepius conferebant.
And at the same time they wish to be found with some paper in hand, or doing something contrary to custom, so that they may be questioned about those matters which they truly themselves desire to speak out.
13. A species of astuteness quite wily is to allow words, uttered under one’s own name, to slip from oneself—words which one wants another to seize and use, so that from that the one may ensnare and undermine the other. I knew two competitors for the office of secretary in the time of Queen Elizabeth, who nevertheless treated one another amicably, and who very often conferred about the very matter of their competition.
And one of them said that to become secretary in the decline of a monarch was a matter of no small peril, and that he was less inclined to court that kind of honor. The other straightway, in good faith, seized upon those words, cleverly put forth, and freely held conversations with some of his friends, saying that in the decline of the monarch he ought not to be ambitious of the office of secretary. The former took the occasion, and took care that these words should reach the queen’s ears, as if, to be sure, uttered by the other.
14. Est astutiae quoddam genus quod Anglico proverbio felem in aheno vertere satis absurde dicitur, cum ea verba quae quis apud alium profert, imputat colloquenti tanquam ab ipso prolata. Et, ut verum dicamus, cum talia aliqua verba inter duos agitata fuerint, difficile est probare et verificare ab utro primum incoeperint.
who, indignant at those words “in the decline of the monarchy,” since she reckoned herself vigorous, thereafter never again admitted his candidacy.
14. There is a certain kind of astutia which by an English proverb is quite absurdly called “to turn cat in the pan,” when one imputes to his interlocutor, as though brought forth by him, the very words which he himself utters before another. And, to tell the truth, when such words have been bandied between two, it is difficult to prove and verify from which of the two they first began.
15. Est artificium in usu ut quis in alios spicula quaedam oblique torqueat iustificando seipsum per negativas, utpote dicendo hoc ego non facio, ut Tigillinus fecit Burrhum sugillando, se non diversas spes, sed incolumitatem imperatoris simpliciter spectare.
16. Nonnulli in promptu habent tot narrationes et historiolas ut nihil sit quod insinuare cupiunt, quin id historiola aliqua involvere possent. Unde et se magis in tuto continent, quasi nihil diserte affirmantes, et rem ipsam maiore cum voluptate spargi efficiunt.
15. There is an artifice in use whereby someone may twist certain little darts against others obliquely by justifying himself through negatives, as, for instance, by saying, “this I do not do,” as Tigellinus did in disparaging Burrus, saying that he does not regard diverse hopes, but simply the safety of the emperor.
16. Some have at the ready so many narrations and little histories that there is nothing which they wish to insinuate that they could not wrap in some little history. Whence they both keep themselves more in safety, as if affirming nothing expressly, and they bring it about that the matter itself be spread with greater pleasure.
17. Bonum est astutiae genus ut quis responsum quod obtinere cupit conceptis verbis proponat. Etenim alteram partem minus haerere facit.
18. Mirum est cernere quamdiu nonnulli occasionem captent dicendi illlud quod proferre cupiunt, et quanto circuitu uti sustineant, et quot alia attingere ut quo volunt perveniant.
17. It is a good kind of astuteness that one set forth the answer which he wishes to obtain in conceived words. For it makes the other party stick less.
18. It is a marvel to see how long some lie in wait for an occasion of saying that which they desire to bring forth, and with how great a circuit they can endure to make use, and how many other things they touch upon, that they may arrive where they wish.
19. Improvisa et audax quaestio aliquando hominem deprehendit et detegit. Simile quiddam evenit cuidam qui nomen mutaverat, et in templo divi Pauli obambulans fuit ab alio per nomen suum verum a tergo compellatus, ad quod statim retrospexit.
This matter surely requires great patience, but has many uses.
19. An unexpected and audacious question sometimes apprehends a man and uncovers him. Something similar befell a certain person who had changed his name, and, walking about in the temple of Saint Paul, he was from behind addressed by another by his true name, at which he immediately looked back.
20. Illud pro certo habendum, nonnullos negotiorum periodos et pausas nosse, qui in ipsorum viscera et interiora penetrare nequeunt, ut reperiuntur aedes nonnullae quae gradus nactae sunt commodos et anticameras, sed absque cubiculo aliquo pulchriore.
But these rewards are small, and the lesser stratagems are infinite. Nor would it have been ill done, if someone were to compile a more abundant catalog of them, since nothing harms affairs more than that the crafty are received as prudent.
20. This must be held for certain: some know the periods and pauses of business who cannot penetrate into its very bowels and interiors, just as there are found certain houses which have convenient stairs and antechambers, but are without any fairer bedchamber.
Therefore you will see such men, in the conclusions of deliberations, find certain convenient exits, but by no means are they sufficient for examining and disputing the matter. Yet very often from this they hunt for a certain reputation, as if they were talents more apt for decreeing than for disputing. There are those who rely more on the tricks they lay for others than on solid and sound counsels.
1. Formica animalculum sibi sapiens, sed in horto nocivum. Et sane fit ut qui sui nimium amantes sint reipublicae laedant. Partire itaque moderate inter amorem tui ipsius et amorem reipublicae, atque ita tibi sis proximus ut in alios non sis iniurius, praesertem in regem tuum aut patriam.
1. The ant, an animalcule sapient for itself, but noxious in the garden. And indeed it comes to pass that those who are overmuch lovers of themselves injure the republic. Apportion, therefore, moderately between the love of yourself and the love of the republic, and thus be nearest to yourself so that you are not injurious toward others, especially against your king or your fatherland.
To refer all things to oneself is more tolerable in princes, because they themselves do not stand within their own person, but live in public peril and fortune. But in a servant of a prince or a citizen of the commonwealth the matter is most pernicious. For indeed all public business in its entirety, which is expedited by a man of that sort, is bent toward his own ends.
Those who must needs be often eccentric to the ends of their master or of their state. Therefore let princes and states choose ministers and servants who are not stained with this mark, unless they wish their affairs to be only in the place of an accessory. Nay rather, what makes this effect more ruinous is this: that the analogy of things is plainly lost.
For it is quite iniquitous if the good of the servant is preferred to the good of the master. But far more iniquitous still is it, when the exiguous good of a servant is put before the great good of the master. Nevertheless, this has more often been done by depraved officiaries, such as treasurers, legates, dukes, and other unfaithful and wicked servants or ministers, who, with their own little pellet, add weight to their minute ends, thereby tipping the balance sideways against their master’s utility in matters graver and of great moment.
And for the most part the commodity which servants of such a kind draw to themselves is by the measure of their own fortune; but the detriment for which they barter that advantage is by the measure of their master’s fortune. For indeed the disposition of self-lovers of this sort allows that they do not hesitate to set a neighbor’s house on fire for a matter no greater than the roasting of their eggs. Nevertheless, ministers of this kind not seldom wield favor with powerful men, because for them they procure pleasant things, useful to themselves, and for the sake of either consideration they will betray their master’s fortune.
2. Prudentia quae sibi uni sapit in plurimis eius ramis res sane depravata. Assimilanda sapientiae soricum, qui domum aliquam pro certo deserent paulo ante ruinam; sapientiae vulpis, quae taxonem e domo expellit quam sibi defodit, non illi; sapiantiae crocodili, qui lachrymas emittit, cum devorare cupit. Verum illud imprimis observationem meretur, quod huiusmodi homines qui (ut Cicero loquitur de Pompeio) sui sunt amantes sine rivale.
2. Prudence that is wise to itself alone is, in very many of its branches, a truly depraved affair. It is to be assimilated to the wisdom of shrews, who will for certain desert some house a little before its ruin; to the wisdom of the fox, which expels the badger from the house which he digs for himself, not for him; to the wisdom of the crocodile, which emits tears when it desires to devour. But this above all merits observation: that men of this sort are (as Cicero speaks about Pompey) lovers of themselves without a rival.
1. Sicut partus recens editi informes sunt, sic videre est in novis institutis, quae sunt partus temporis. Veruntamen, ut qui in familiam suam honores primi introducunt, posteris suis plerunque dignitate praelucent, ita rerum exemplaria et primordia (quando feliciter iacta sunt) imitationem aetatis sequentis, ut plurimum, superant. Malum enim in natura humana naturali motu fertur, qui processu invalescit.
1. Just as births newly delivered are unformed, so it is to be seen in new institutions, which are the births of time. Nevertheless, as those who first introduce honors into their family generally outshine their descendants in dignity, so the exemplars and primordia of things (when happily cast) for the most part surpass the imitation of the subsequent age. For evil in human nature is borne along by a natural motion, which with progress grows strong.
But if time, its course run alone, should carry things to the worse, and prudence and industry do not strive to restore them to the better, what, then, will be the end of the evil? This must altogether be conceded: what has been confirmed by custom, though it be less according to the mode, is nevertheless apt to the times; and the things which have flowed, as it were, in a single channel are joined by a certain covenant, whereas, on the contrary, new things do not everywhere so neatly cohere with the old. For although they help by their utility, yet by their novelty and inconformity they disturb.
Hence it comes about that an inopportune and fastidious retention of custom is a turbulent affair, equally as novelty, and that those who revere the old too superstitiously are given over to the mockery of the present age. Men will therefore act prudently if, in their innovations, they seek an example from Time. For Time innovates most of all, but tacitly, step by step, and without perception.
For you may hold this for certain: that the new comes beyond hope and expectation, and adds something to this man, while it snatches something from that. But he for whom novelty is an increment gives thanks to fortune and to time; whereas he to whom it is a detriment demands the author of the novelty for injuries. It is expedient moreover not to use, in healing political bodies, new experiments, unless pressing necessity bear down or evident utility show itself; and to take diligent care that zeal for reformation induce change, and not that zeal for change pretext reformation.
1. Celeritas nimia et affectata negotia, ut plurimum, perdit. Similis est illi rei quam medici praedigestionem sive praeproperam digestionem vocant, quae corpus implere solet humoribus crudis et secretis seminibus morborum. Itaque negotiorum expeditionem ne metiaris per tempora consulendi, sed per negotii ipsius progressum.
1. Excessive and affected speed, for the most part, ruins affairs. It is similar to that thing which physicians call predigestion or over‑hasty digestion, which is wont to fill the body with crude humors and with hidden seeds of diseases. Therefore do not measure the expedition of affairs by the times of consulting, but by the progress of the business itself.
And just as in running speed does not at all consist in the greatness of the strides or the higher elevation of the feet, but in the lower and more even motion of the same, so in business, to cling tooth-and-nail to the matter, and not to embrace too large a portion of the business at one time in a single go, promotes speed in accomplishing it. It is the concern of some only this: that they may seem to have completed much in a short time, or that they may constrict certain spurious “periods” of business, whereby they may be thought keen in affairs. But it is one thing to spare time by contracting the business, another by interceding.
2. Ex altera parte vera celeritas in expediendis negotiois res est pretiosa.
But affairs handled in that manner, namely by frequent conferences, are for the most part carried up and down with great inconstancy. We have known a prudent man who always had on his lips, whenever he saw excessive hastening, “wait a little, that we may expedite it more quickly.”
2. On the other side, true celerity in expediting affairs is a precious thing.
3. Aurem illis praebe facilem quibus primae in informatione negotii partes demandatae sunt, et potius viam illis monstres ab initio quam postea in orationis filo crebrius interrumpas. Qui enim in ordine quem sibi praestituit perturbatur, subsultabit, et prolixior fiet dum memoriam suam recolliget.
Then, I know, he will come hesitantly.
3. Lend an easy ear to those to whom the first parts in the information of the business have been entrusted, and rather show them the way from the beginning than later interrupt more frequently in the thread of the speech. For he who is disturbed in the order which he has prescribed for himself will stumble, and will become more prolix while he recollects his memory.
4. Repetitiones plerunque cum temporis iactura fiunt.
How otherwise he would have been, if he had proceeded by his own method. But sometimes one may see that the moderator is more troublesome than the orator.
4. Repetitions are for the most part made with a loss of time.
Nevertheless, to repeat the status of the question often is a gain of time, or even the greatest; for it drives off at the very birth many discourses utterly off the matter. Prolix and over-curious orations suit the expedition of business just as much as a very long toga, sweeping the ground, suits running.
Little prefaces, pretty transitions, and excuses, and other words that are referred to the persona of the speaker, devastate no small amount of time. And although they may seem to emanate from modesty, they are nevertheless contrivances for catching a bit of glory. But beware of descending into the very matter from the outset, when in men’s goodwill some hindrance or obstruction is found.
5. Ante omnia, ordo, et distributio, et partium apta extractio, celeritatis tanquam vita est, ita tamen ut distributio non sit nimium subtilis. Nam qui partitione non utetur, in negotia nunquam commode ingredietur.
For the preoccupation of minds for discourses always demands prefaces, like a fomentation before the unguent, so that the unguent may enter more softly.
5. Before all things, order, and distribution, and an apt extraction of the parts, is as it were the life of celerity, yet in such a way that the distribution be not too subtle. For he who will not use partition will never enter upon business conveniently.
There are three parts of business: preparation, consultation or examination, and perfection. Of these (if one intends to consult for expedition) the middle should be the work of many, but the first and the last of few. To take the beginning of proceeding in business from those matters which are comprehended in writing for the most part promotes expedition.
1. Recepta est opinio Gallos prudentiores esse quam videntur, Hispanos autem prudentiores videri quam sunt. Sed utcunque se res habeat inter gentes, certum est hoc usu venire inter personas singulares. Sicut enim loquitur apostolus de pietate, speciem pietates habentes, sed virtutem eius negantes, ita certe inveniuntur nonnulli qui nugantur solenniter, cum prudentes minime sunt: magno conatu nugas.
1. A received opinion is that the French are more prudent than they appear, but that the Spaniards appear more prudent than they are. But however the matter stands among nations, it is certain that this comes to pass in experience among individual persons. For as the Apostle speaks about piety, having the appearance of piety, but denying its power, so certainly there are some found who trifle solemnly, when they are in no way prudent: with great effort, trifles.
It is indeed to the prudent a ridiculous thing and worthy of satire to see those affecters, into how many forms they turn themselves and what sort of quasi-perspective art they use, whereby a surface may appear a body that has depth or the dimension of a solid. Others are so secret, and sparing in declaring themselves, that they do not wish to show their wares except under a dim light, and they want to seem to signify more than they speak. And although they are conscious to themselves that they speak about those matters which they do not know well, nevertheless they desire to seem to know those things which they cannot safely speak.
Others back up their words with countenance and gesture, and as if by signs they show wisdom. As Cicero says about Piso: you reply, with one eyebrow raised toward the forehead, the other pressed down toward the chin, that cruelty does not please you. Others think they prevail if they speak something grand—and that in a peremptory style.
Therefore they make no delay, and they take as admitted what they cannot prove. There are those who parade that they spurn or set little store by whatever does not fall under their grasp, although it is impertinent and curious (prying), and thus they put forward their own ignorance in place of a polished judgment. Others always have some distinction at the ready, and for the most part, by striking people’s wits with subtlety, they sail past the matter.
Of which kind Aulus Gellius speaks: a delirious man who with the minutiae of words shatters the weights of things. To which example Plato in the Protagoras, by irony, introduces Prodicus weaving an entire discourse out of distinctions from beginning to end. Generally, men of this sort in consultations gladly apply themselves to the negative, and they angle for a certain estimation by proposing and foretelling scruples and difficulties.
To say it in a word, neither some debt-laden merchant nor a covert bankrupt of his household estate will fortify himself with so many artifices for simulating riches, as these men, bereft of true prudence, employ for maintaining the opinion of their prudence. Surely men endowed with this sort of prudence can easily snare the opinion of the crowd. But for handling serious affairs, let no one make choice of such men.
1. Res sane difficilis esset, etiam illi qui dixerit, plus veri ac falsi, idque compendio miscuisse, quam illo scito quicqunque solitudine delectatur aut fera aut deus est. Negari enim non potest quod insitum et latens odium seu fastidium societatis, si in aliquo deprehendatur, sapiat nescio quid belluinum. Illud tamen e converso, quod aliquam divinae naturae speciem prae se ferat, falsissimum est, nisi huiusmodi vita solitaria minime ab amore ipsius solitudinis proveniat, sed a studio secedendi ut altioribus contemplationibus quis vacet, id quod in nonnullis ethnicorum reperitur, sed affectatum et fictum, ut in Epimenide Cretense, Numa Romana, Empedocle Siculo, et Apollonio Tyaneo.
1. A matter truly difficult it would be, even for whoever should say so, to have mixed more of the true and the false—and that in a compendium—than in that dictum: whoever delights in solitude is either a wild beast or a god. For it cannot be denied that an inborn and latent hatred or fastidiousness of society, if it be caught in anyone, savors of I-know-not-what bestial thing. Yet that, conversely, which wears on its face some appearance of a divine nature, is most false, unless such a solitary life by no means proceeds from love of solitude itself, but from a zeal for withdrawing so that one may be free for higher contemplations—a thing which is found among some of the pagans, though affected and feigned, as in Epimenides the Cretan, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana.
Yet it is sincere and true in very many of the ancient hermits and in the holy fathers of the Church. Meanwhile, however, men perceive too little what this is that is called solitude, and within what boundaries it is circumscribed. For a throng is not to be called society, and the faces of men are nothing more than paintings in porticoes.
Colloquies, indeed, without dilection are no better than a tinkling cymbal. This hints at what is bandied about in the Latin proverb: “great city, great solitude.” For in great cities friends and intimates are dispersed more remotely, to such a degree that, for the most part, one lives less familiarly and in fellowship than in narrower neighborhoods.
2. Maxime amicitae fructus est levamen et evaporatio anxietatis et tumorum cordis, quos animae perturbationes cuiuscunque generis imprimere solent.
Nay, one may even go further, and most truly assert that solitude is mere and miserable where true friends are lacking, without whom the world is nothing else than a desert. In this sense also, if you take solitude thus, whoever by his nature and his genius abhors friendships borrows such an affection more from a brute than from a man.
2. Chiefly the fruit of friendship is the alleviation and evaporation of anxiety and of the tumors (swellings) of the heart, which the perturbations of the soul of whatever kind are wont to imprint.
We know those diseases in the body to be most perilous which arise from obstructions and suffocations. Nor is the case much otherwise in the sicknesses of the soul. You can apply sarsa to the liver, prepared steel to the spleen, flowers of sulphur to the lung, castoreum to deobstruct the brain’s opilations.
3. Res est profecto mirabilis si quis secum reputet quam magni principes summi et monarchae istum amicitiae fructum (de quo loquimur) aestiment. Tanti sane, ut eundem et incolumitatis suae et amplitudinis periculo interdum coemant.
No apertive medicine at all is found for the obstructions of the heart except a faithful friend, to whom you may impart pains, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, cares, counsels, and, finally, whatever oppresses the heart, as if under the seal of civil confession.
3. It is indeed a marvelous thing, if anyone consider with himself how greatly the highest princes and monarchs esteem that fruit of friendship (of which we speak). So greatly, assuredly, that they sometimes purchase the same at the peril of their own safety and their greatness.
For princes, by reason of the distance and sublimity of their fortunes from the fortunes of their servants and subjects, cannot pluck this fruit, unless perhaps (that they may gather it the better) they raise and promote some who may be to them as companions and equals—a thing which very often is done not without prejudice. The modern languages designate persons of this sort by the name of “favorites” or “friends of the king,” as if the matter were one of favor and conversation. But the Roman vocable for this more rightly expresses the true use and cause, calling them partners in cares.
4. L. Sylla postquam Romanum imperium occupasset Pompeium (postea cognominatum Magnum) ad eam potentiam evexit, ut Pompeius superiorum iam Sylla factum se venditaret.
For this is that which furnishes the true ligament. And we plainly see that this has been done not only by delicate princes and of an imbecile spirit, but even by the most prudent and most politic among those who have reigned, who often adjoined to themselves some from their servants, whom they themselves called their friends and allowed others to insigne them with the same name, using no other vocable than that which is received among men of private fortune.
4. L. Sulla, after he had seized the Roman imperium, raised Pompey (afterwards surnamed the Great) to such power that Pompey already vaunted himself, as made by Sulla, above his superiors.
For when he had made a certain friend of his consul against Sulla’s canvassing, and Sulla had taken this in a bad sense and had uttered some words of indignation, Pompey by no means bore it, but almost in express words ordered him to be quiet, adding that more people adore the rising sun than the setting. With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus prevailed with such favor that Caesar appointed him heir in substitution to his nephew Octavius. And this was the man who drew Caesar on to his own death.
For when Caesar had had in mind to dismiss the senate because of certain evil presages (especially a certain dream of his wife Calpurnia), Brutus, gently lifting him from his chair, having seized his arm, said that he hoped he would not hold the senate of so little account as to wish to dismiss it until his wife had dreamed a better dream. And indeed he seems to have prevailed with such favor with Caesar that Antony, in a certain letter which is recited verbatim by Cicero in one of the Philippics, called him a sorcerer, as if he had enchanted Caesar. Augustus promoted Agrippa, though ignoble by birth, to such a height that when he was deliberating with Maecenas about the nuptials of his daughter Julia, Maecenas freely advised him that Agrippa was either to be taken as a son-in-law or to be put to death.
Nihil esse tertium, that there should be nothing third, once he had brought him to such a pinnacle. Tiberius Caesar advanced Sejanus with such honors that those two were regarded as a matched pair of friends. Surely Tiberius, in a certain epistle to him, writes thus: “these things, for the sake of our friendship, I have not concealed.”
And the whole senate dedicated an Altar of Friendship, as to a goddess, on account of the close friendship between them. A similar, or even a greater, example of friendship is seen between Septimius Severus and Plantianus. For he compelled his elder-born son to take the daughter of Plantanus in marriage, and he often honored Plantanus, even to the contumely of his own son.
Nay, he even wrote to the senate in these very words: I so cherish the man that I desire he should be my survivor. But if these princes had been similar to a Trajan or to Marcus Aurelius, this could be attributed to the benignity of their immense nature. Since, however, they proved to be men so prudent, and endowed with such vigor and severity of mind—so to speak, devoted lovers of themselves—it is clearly shown that they declared their own felicity (though scarcely has a greater befallen any mortals) as if maimed, unless through these friendships it had been made entire and perfect.
5. Minime oblivioni mandandum quod Commineus notatum reliquit de domini suo priore duce Carolo, cognominato Strenuo: eum secreta sua cum nemine communicare voluisse, minime omnium ea quae eum prae caeteris angebant. Et ulterius ait eam animi obtractionem posteribus vitae annis intellectum ipsius nonnihil debitilasse et vitiasse.
And, what is more, these princes had wives, sons, grandsons present, yet not even all these consolations were able to supply the solace of friendship.
5. By no means should it be consigned to oblivion what Commines left noted about his former lord, Duke Charles, surnamed the Strenuous: that he wished to share his secrets with no one—least of all those matters which, above the rest, afflicted him. And further he says that that drawing-back of spirit, in the later years of his life, somewhat enfeebled and vitiated his understanding.
Certainly Commineus could, if he had wished, have made a similar judgment about his later master Louis XI., for whom the occultation of counsels was a torment. The Pythagorean tessera, obscure yet best: “do not eat your heart.” Surely, if someone were to fasten a harsh name upon this matter, those who are destitute of friends to whom they may freely impart their thoughts and anxieties are anthropophagi of their own hearts.
But this plainly comes very near to a miracle (with which I shall close this discourse on the first fruit of friendship): namely, that this communication with friends produces two contrary effects. For it conduplicates joys, it dimidiates sorrows. For no one imparts joyful things to a friend without rejoicing the more.
No one, however, communicates his sad things to a friend without being saddened less. So much so that in truth it is endowed with the same virtue over the mind of man as alchemists are wont to attribute to their Stone over the human body. That is, that it operates contraries, but always to the benefit of nature.
6. Secundus amicitiae fructus salubris est intellectui, sicut primus affectibus. Amicitia enim serenitatem inducit in affectibus a tempestatibus et procellis. Verum in intellectu etiam noctem abigit et lumen infundit, confusione cogitationum dissipata.
6. The second salutary fruit of friendship is for the intellect, just as the first is for the affections. For friendship induces serenity in the affections, away from tempests and storms. But in the intellect it also drives away the night and infuses light, the confusion of thoughts having been dispelled.
Nor is this to be understood only of the faithful counsel which is wont to be given by friends; but before we speak of that, it is certain that whoever has a mind burdened with many cogitations finds his ingenium and intellect to grow clear, as if into day, by the communication of counsels and by discourse with another. For indeed he more easily agitates his cogitations and turns them in all directions, and disposes the same more orderly. He looks upon them as if face-to-face after they have been converted into words.
Finally, he comes out more prudent than himself, and thus he achieves more by the discourse of a single little hour than by the meditations of an entire day. It was rightly said by Themistocles to the king of the Persians that discourses are like tapestries when they are unfolded, whereby the images are seen distinctly, whereas thoughts, after the fashion of certain packs, are folded up and wrapped. Nor is that second fruit of friendship (which consisted in opening the obstructions of the intellect) restricted to those friends alone who are powerful in counsel (these, without doubt, are the best); but, this set aside, one indeed learns from himself also, and leads forth his own thoughts into the borders of light, and sharpens his wit as against a whetstone, which itself does not cut.
7. Adde iam (ut fiat sermo de hoc fecundo amicitiae fructu magis perfectus) illud modo dictum, quod promptius occurrit et in vulgarem observationem cadit, fidele intelligo ab amico consilium. Bene asserit Heraclitus in uno aenigmatum suorum lumen siccum optimum.
To say it in a word, it is better to impart oneself to some statue or image than to suffocate one’s thoughts in silence.
7. Add now (that the discourse about this fruitful fruit of friendship may be made more perfect) that thing just mentioned, which more readily occurs and falls under vulgar observation: I understand faithful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus rightly asserts in one of his enigmas, that “dry light” is best.
And yet it is most certain that the light which proceeds from another by way of counsel is drier and purer than that which emanates from one’s own judgment and intellect, inasmuch as the latter is always macerated and tinctured by the affections. So that there is no less difference between a friend’s counsel and anyone’s own counsel than between a friend’s counsels and a flatterer’s. For a flatterer is not more inimical than anyone is to himself; nor, again, is a more excellent remedy found against self-flattery than the liberty of a friend.
Counsel is of two kinds, one concerning morals, the other concerning affairs. As regards the former, the best medicament for preserving the sanity of the mind would be the admonition of a faithful friend. To compel oneself to render accounts strictly is a remedy sometimes too penetrating and corrosive.
It is indeed a wonder to see how many enormous and plainly absurd errors some commit (especially among the elder sort) because there is not present to them a friend who can admonish, to no small detriment of both their estimation and their fortune. For they are (as the apostle James says) like men who look into a mirror and straightway forget their image. As for business, the old saying is that more eyes see better than one eye, though some cavil at this.
It is also rightly said that the spectator often sees more than the player. Moreover, even a larger firearm discharges more surely when rested on a stake than upon the arm, although some are so lofty-wise as to think that everything is in themselves. But whatever can be said to the contrary, it is certain that counsel directs and stabilizes affairs.
But if anyone considers with himself that he will indeed take counsel, but by parts—consulting this man in some matters, that man in others—it is well enough (that is, it would be better for him than not to use counsel at all), yet he runs into two dangers. One, that he will scarcely find faithful counsel; for rarely, except from a faithful and intimate friend, is counsel given that is not inflected and twisted toward the giver’s own ends.
The other is that those counsels, emanating from diverse sources (though rendered with fidelity and good intention), will very often be damaging and noxious, and commixed partly of inconveniences and partly of remedies, as if you were to call in a physician who is held expert in the cure of that disease, but utterly ignorant of the constitution of your body. Wherefore he may perhaps promote your health for a time, but with the risk that, on the whole, he prejudices your health. And thus, in this fashion, he will extinguish the disease, and not long after the man.
8. Post nobiles hosce duos amicitae fructus (pacem dico in affectibus et fulcimentum iudicii) sequitur ultimus, qui similius est mala granato, plenus granis compluribus. Intelligo +autem+ auxilium et partipationem in actionibus et occasionibus vitae. Hic autem expeditissima via repraesentandi ad vivum usum multiplicem amicitiae fuerit circumspiciendo et videndo quam multa sint quae per si quispiam exequi commode non poterit.
8. After these two noble fruits of friendship (I mean peace in the affections and a fulcrum of judgment) there follows a last one, which is more like the pomegranate, full of numerous grains. I mean, however, help and participation in the actions and occasions of life. Here, moreover, the most expeditious way of representing to the life the manifold use of friendship would be by looking around and seeing how many things there are that a person, by himself, will not be able to execute conveniently.
And from this it will appear that it was said by the ancients not by hyperbole but soberly, that a friend is another self; since, if one truly reckon the matter, the offices of a friend surpass each person’s own strengths. Human beings are mortal. Indeed, even in the midst of certain works which they most affect, they often die—such as in the arrangement of a son in marriage, in the consummation of their endeavors and desires, and the like.
Now if someone has a faithful friend, he has security that the same matters will be completed after his death by the friend’s care and effort; to such a degree that an untimely fate scarcely hinders, and one has (to speak in the fashion of leaseholders) in his desires a term not of one life, but of two. Man is circumscribed by the body, and the body by place.
Again, the persona of each one has many things conjoined which he cannot strip off. One cannot address a son except as a father, a wife except as a husband, an enemy except with dignity preserved, whereas to a friend it is conceded to speak as the matter requires, nor is he bound to considerations of persona. But to enumerate these things would be endless.
1. Opes destinantur sumptibus, sumptus autem honori et actionibus honestis. Sumptus itaque largiores occasionis et rei dignitate commensurandi sunt. Etenim spontanea paupertas debetur quandoque patriae, non solum regno coelorum.
1. Wealth is destined for expenditures, but expenditures for honor and honorable actions. Therefore more lavish outlays are to be proportioned to the dignity of the occasion and of the matter. For indeed voluntary poverty is sometimes owed to the fatherland, not only to the kingdom of heaven.
Moreover, the customary expenses are to be defined by each one’s census, and moderated with such a tenor that they are within the revenues, and not liable to the fraud or negligence of servants. And, besides, they are to be disposed and ordered in such a way that the accounts of expenditures, when exhibited, are less than the estimation. Surely, whoever is unwilling to suffer a diminution of his fortunes must establish his ordinary expenses thus: that only half of the revenues be expended, the other half set aside.
But he who desires to augment his estate should assign only a third part to expenditures. It is not sordid for even men of the highest rank to inspect their accounts diligently. Many omit this, not so much from sloth as from a certain aversion, lest they sadden themselves if they discover that their resources have been cut down too much.
He to whom it is rarely granted to inspect his accounts should convert what lies under computation into fixed revenues and even expenses. Whoever is more costly in one kind of expenditure ought soberly to be sparing and frugal in another. For example, if more abundant in victuals, let the elegance of clothing be more moderate; if copious in his own hall, let him be more contracted in the stable, and so with similar things.
For he who is more prodigal in each kind of expenditures will scarcely avoid the bankruptcy of his fortunes. In a perplexed and debt-laden household estate, in the effort to be freed, one can harm himself just as much by excessive haste as by excessive delay. For over-hasty venditions (sales) often make a loss equal to that from usury (interest).
Moreover, he who at once and in a single stroke settles the principal is in peril of a relapse; for when he feels himself carried past such great straits, he will return to his natural disposition. But he who has extricated himself by degrees induces a habit of frugality, and by the same operation he remedies both his spirit and his fortunes. Truly, he who has it in his vows to restore collapsed affairs should not spurn even the very least things, and for the most part it is less sordid to cut off expenses, however minute, than to submit oneself to minute gains.
1. Dictum Themistoclis sibi ipsi applicatum incivile certe fuit et inflatum; sin de aliis atque in genere prolatum fuisset, prudentem sane observationem et pergravem censuram complecti videtur. Rogatus in convivio ut cytharam pulsaret respondit, fidibus se nescire, caeterum posse oppidum parvum in magnam civitatem evehere. Ista certe verba, ad sensum politicum translata, facultates duas, multum inter se discrepantes, in iis qui rerum gubernacula tractant optime describunt et distinguunt.
1. The saying of Themistocles, applied to himself, was certainly uncivil and inflated; but if it had been put forth about others and in general, it seems to embrace a truly prudent observation and a very grave censure. Asked at a banquet to strike the lyre, he replied that he did not know the strings, but that he could raise a small town into a great city. Those words, certainly, translated into a political sense, most excellently describe and distinguish two faculties, greatly differing from each other, in those who handle the helm of affairs.
For if we attentively survey the counselors of kings, senators, and others admitted to public business who anywhere have ever been, there will certainly be found (though very rarely) some who can make a kingdom or a city from small into ample, yet are very unskilled fiddlers. On the contrary, however, very many others are wondrous artificers on the cithara or lyre (that is, in courtly tricks), who are so far from being able to amplify the commonwealth that they rather seem to have been framed by nature for undermining and overturning the happy and flourishing state of the commonwealth. Assuredly those degenerate arts and prestidigitations by which counselors and men in power oftentimes carry back both favor with their princes and fame among the crowd deserve no other name than a certain fiddling expertise, inasmuch as they are things more pleasing for the present and an ornament to the artificers themselves rather than useful or fitting to the resources and amplitude of the commonwealths whose ministers they are.
2. Verum qualescunque demum fuerint operarii, coniiciamus oculos in opus eorum, qualis nimirum censeri debeat vera regnorum et rerumpublicarum magnitudo, et quibus artibus obtineri possit. Dignum profecto argumentum, quod principes perpetuo in manibus habeant et diligenter meditentur, quo nec vires suas in maius aestimantes incoeptis se vanis et nimis arduis implicent, nec rursus easdem plus aequo despicientes ad consilia pusillanima et meticulosa se demittant.
Without doubt there will also occur other counsellors and governors of the commonwealth by no means to be scorned, who are equal to the business and can administer affairs conveniently, and preserve them from manifest precipices and inconveniences; yet they are at a long remove from that upbuilding and amplifying virtue of commonwealths.
2. But whatever at last the workmen may be, let us cast our eyes upon their work—namely, what the true magnitude of kingdoms and commonwealths ought to be judged, and by what arts it can be obtained. A subject indeed worthy, which princes should have perpetually in their hands and diligently meditate, whereby neither, overestimating their own forces, they entangle themselves in vain and too arduous undertakings, nor, on the contrary, despising the same more than is meet, do they let themselves down to pusillanimous and timorous counsels.
3. Magnitudo imperiorum, quoad molem et territorium, mensurae subiicitur, quoad reditus, calculis. Numerus civium et capita censu, urbium et oppidorum amplitudo tabulis excipi possint. Attamen non reperitur inter civilia, res errori magis obnoxia, quam verum et intrinsecum excipere valorem circa vires et copias imperii alicuius.
3. The magnitude of empires, as to mass and territory, is subjected to measurement; as to revenues, to calculations. The number of citizens and heads can be taken by census; the amplitude of cities and towns can be recorded in tables. Yet among civil matters, nothing is found more liable to error than to capture the true and intrinsic value concerning the forces and resources of any empire.
The kingdom of heaven is likened not to an acorn or to some larger nut, but to a grain of mustard, which is the least among the grains. Yet meanwhile it has within itself a certain property and an innate spirit, by which it both lifts itself more swiftly and spreads more broadly: in the same way one may find kingdoms and states very ample in compass and in the tract of their regions, which nevertheless are less apt for pushing their borders further or for commanding more widely. Others, by contrast, are of quite small dimension, which nevertheless can be the bases upon which, most of all, monarchies are built up.
4. Urbes munitae, plena armamentaria, equorum propagines genrosae, currus armati, elephanti, machinae atque tormenta bellica omnigena, et similia, sunt certe ista universa nihil aliud quam ovis induta pelle leonina, nisi gens ipsa stirpe sua et ingenio sit fortis et militaris. Imo nec numerus ipse copiarum multum iuvat ubi milites imbelles sunt et ignavi. Recte enim Virgilius, lupus numerum pecorum non curat.
4. Fortified cities, full armories, noble propagations of horses, armed chariots, elephants, engines and warlike artillery of every kind, and the like—surely all these are nothing other than a sheep clad in a lion’s hide, unless the nation itself by its stock and innate disposition be strong and martial. Nay, not even the very number of forces avails much where the soldiers are unwarlike and craven. For, as Virgil rightly says, the wolf does not care about the number of the flock.
The army of the Persians on the plains of Arbela was set before the eyes of the Macedonians as a vast sea of men; to such a degree that Alexander’s commanders, somewhat struck by the spectacle itself, interpellated the king and were advocates that he commit the battle by night. To them he said, “I do not wish to steal the victory.” Moreover, it was also easier by that very opinion.
Tigranes the Armenian, having encamped on a certain hill with an army of four hundred thousand, when he was looking at the Roman battle-line, which did not exceed fourteen thousand, advancing against him, took pleasure in that gibe of his: “Behold,” he said, “for an embassy far more men than is fitting; for a fight far fewer.” Yet before the sun had set he learned by experience that they were many enough to overthrow him with boundless havoc.
Countless are the examples of how unequal the encounter of multitude with fortitude is. Therefore, first of all, as a matter most certain and most well-explored, let it be decreed and established that the head and chief point of all things which look to the greatness of a kingdom or of a State is this: that the people themselves be warlike in stock and in nature. And that saying, more trite than true, that monies are the sinews of war, is worth little if the sinews of the muscles are lacking in a soft and effeminate nation.
For Solon rightly answered Croesus, who was displaying his gold: “But if someone, O king, should come who bears iron better than you, to him indeed all this gold will yield.” Therefore, whoever that prince or state may be whose native-born subjects and indigenes are not high-spirited and military, let him assess his power very soberly. And conversely, princes who rule over high-spirited and martial peoples should know their own forces well—provided they are not otherwise lacking.
5. Benedictio Iudae et Issacharis in unum nunquam convenient. Nimirum ut eadem tribus at gens sit simul, et leonis catulus et asinus procumbens inter sarcinas.
As concerns mercenary troops (a remedy that is usually applied when native troops are lacking), everything is full of examples by which it is plainly evident that whatever state leans upon them may perhaps for a short time stretch wings larger than its nest, but they will droop shortly after.
5. The blessing of Judah and of Issachar will never come together into one. Namely, that the same tribe and nation should at once be both a lion’s whelp and a donkey lying down among the packs.
Nor will it ever come to pass that a people oppressed by tributes will be strong and warlike. It is true that contributions made by public consent cast down and depress the spirits of subjects less than those which are imposed by mere command; which is plainly to be seen in the taxes of Lower Germany which they call excises, and in some part in those which are named subsidies among the English. For it is to be noted that the discourse now undertaken is about the spirits of men, not about opulence.
6. Aspirantibus ad magnitudinem regnis et statibus prorsus cavendum ne nobiles et patricii atque (quos vocamus) generosi maiorem in modum multiplicentur.
Tributes, however, which are conferred by consent, and those which are imposed by command, although they are the same thing as regards the draining of resources, nevertheless affect the minds of subjects in wholly different ways. Let it therefore be laid down also this: that a people burdened with tributes is not fit for command.
6. For kingdoms and states aspiring to greatness, it must absolutely be guarded against lest nobles and patricians and (whom we call) generosi multiply beyond measure.
For this brings the matter to this point: that the plebs of the realm becomes lowly and abject, and almost nothing other than the chattels and laborers of the nobles. We see something similar happen in coppice-woods, in which, if a number greater than is fitting of trunks or larger trees is left, the wood will not grow back sound and pure, but the greater part will degenerate into brambles and briers. In the same way, in nations where the nobility is more numerous than is just, the plebs will be base and idle.
And at length the matter will come to this: that not even one head in a hundred will be fit to carry a helmet, especially if you look to the infantry, which is commonly the principal strength of an army. Whence there will follow a great population, scant forces. Nowhere among the nations has what I say been more clearly proven than by the examples of England and France.
Of which, England—although by territory and by number of inhabitants far inferior—has nevertheless almost always obtained the superior part in wars for this very cause: that among the English the coloni and men of the lower order are fit for military service, whereas the peasants of France are not so. In this matter, by a certain marvelous and profound prudence, it was devised by Henry VII, King of England (which we have treated more fully in the history of his life), that smaller estates and houses of husbandry should be established, which have annexed to them a fixed and moderate measure of land that cannot be alienated, to the end that it may suffice for a more liberal livelihood, and that agriculture be exercised by those who are owners of the farm, not merely usufructuaries nor lessees or hirelings. For only thus will any region deserve that character with which Virgil marked ancient Italy:
7. Neque praetereunda est illa pars populi (quae Angliae fere est peculiaris, nec alibi, quod scio, in usu, nisi forte apud Polonos), famuli scilicet nobilium. Huius enim generis etiam inferiores, quoad peditatum agricolis ipsis minime cedunt. Quare certissimum st quod magnificentia et splendor ille hospitalis atque famulitia, et veluti satelletia ampla quae in more sunt apud nobiles et generosas in Anglia, ad potentiam militarem apprime conducant.
7. Nor is that part of the populace to be passed over (which is almost peculiar to England, and, so far as I know, is not in use elsewhere, unless perhaps among the Poles), namely the household-servants/retainers of the nobles. For even the lower ranks of this kind, as regards the infantry, yield by no means to the farmers themselves. Wherefore it is most certain that that magnificence and splendor of hospitality and of household service, and, as it were, the ample bodyguard-retinue which are customary among the nobles and the well-born in England, conduce most excellently to military power.
8. Danda est omnino opera, ut arbor ista monarchiae, qualis fuit Nebuchadnezzaris, truncum habeat satis amplum et robstum ad ramos sitos et frondos sustenandos. Hoc est ut numerus indigarum ad subditos extraneos cohibendos satis superque sufficiat.
Where, on the contrary, an obscure, more private, and withdrawn-into-itself manner of life of the nobles diminishes military forces.
8. Effort must altogether be applied, that that tree of monarchy, such as was Nebuchadnezzar’s, have a trunk sufficiently ample and robust for sustaining well-set and leafy branches. That is, that the number of natives should suffice more than enough for keeping foreign subjects in check.
Those states therefore are well prepared to the magnitude of empire which easily and willingly lavish the right of citizenship. For it would be a vain opinion that a handful of men, however much they excel in spirit and in counsel, can restrain and bridle regions far too ample and spacious beneath the yoke of empire. They may perhaps be able to do this for a time, but this matter does not attain long duration.
The Spartans were sparing and difficult in co-opting new citizens. Whence, so long as they ruled within small limits, their affairs were firm and stable. But after they had begun to extend their boundaries and to lord it more broadly than the Spartan stock could conveniently coerce the multitude of foreigners under their dominion, their power collapsed.
No commonwealth ever so lavishly loosened its bosom to receive new citizens as the Roman Republic. And so fortune was equal to so prudent an institution, since they grew into the most ample imperium over the whole globe. It was their custom to bestow the right of citizenship promptly and generously, and that in the highest degree—that is, not only the right of commerce, the right of connubium (marriage), the right of inheritance, but also the right of suffrage and the right of candidacy, or of honors.
And this in turn they communicated not only to individual persons, but to whole families, nay, to cities, and sometimes to entire nations. Add to this the custom of leading out colonies, by which Roman stocks were transplanted into foreign soil. If you set these two institutions together, you will surely say that it was not the Romans who spread themselves over the whole orb, but, on the contrary, that the whole orb spread itself over the Romans, which is the most secure method of extending empire.
It often comes up to marvel at the empire of the Spaniards, that with so few indigenes it can embrace and bridle so many kingdoms and provinces. But certainly the
9. Certissimum est artes mechanicas sedentarias, quas non sub dio sed sub tecto exercentur, atque manufacturas delicatas quae digitum potius quam brachium requirunt, sua natura militaribus animis esse contrarias.
Moreover, they not rarely confer the supreme command of war upon leaders not Spaniards by nation. Yet even they themselves seem not so long ago to have felt the paucity of natives, and to have wished to succor it, as is seen from the pragmatic sanction promulgated this year.
9. It is most certain that sedentary mechanical arts, which are exercised not under the open sky but under a roof, and delicate manufactures which require the finger rather than the arm, are by their nature contrary to military minds.
In general, warlike peoples rejoice to be ferocious, and they shrink from dangers less than from labors. And in this their temperament they are not to be overly repressed, if it is at our heart to preserve their spirits in vigor. Therefore it was a great aid to Sparta, Athens, Rome, and other ancient republics that they had for the most part not freeborn men but slaves, by whose labors crafts of this sort were expedited.
But the use of slaves, after the Christian law was received, has for the most part fallen into desuetude. Next to this in consequence is that those arts be permitted only to foreigners, who therefore are to be allured, or at least easily received. But the native commons ought to consist of three kinds of men, namely agriculturists, freeborn servants, and artificers, whose works demand robust strength and virile sinews.
10. Ante omnia ad imperii magnitudinem confert ut gens aliqua armorum studium profiteatur tanquam decus suum et institutum vitae primarium, et in praecipuo honore habitum. Quae enim a nobis adhuc dicta sunt ad habilitates tantum erga arma spectant.
Of this kind are ironworkers, lapidaries, woodworkers, and the like, not counting the enrolled militia.
10. Above all, it contributes to the empire’s magnitude that some people profess the study of arms as their own honor and as the primary institution of life, and that it be held in preeminent honor. For the things that have been said by us thus far pertain only to aptitudes with respect to arms.
But to what purpose is ability, if one does not apply oneself to the thing itself so that it be brought into act? Romulus (as they tell or as they feign), after he had departed from the living, bequeathed this to his citizens: that before all things they should cultivate the military art, whence their city would rise up into the head of the world. The entire fabric of the Spartan empire (not less prudently indeed, but diligently nonetheless) was composed and constructed to that same tenet and goal, that its citizens should be belligerents, warriors.
Persians and Macedonians had the same institution, but not so constant or long-lasting. The Britons, Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and several others also for a time devoted themselves chiefly to arms. The Turks, slightly stimulated by their law, retain the same institution today, but with a great declination of their soldiery (as it now is).
In Christian Europe the only people who still retain and profess that are the Spaniards. But the matter is indeed clear and manifest—that each one makes the greatest progress in that in which he expends the most study—so as not to need words. Let it be enough to have hinted that it is altogether to be despaired of, for any nation which does not professedly cultivate arms and the military and especially study and apply itself to them, that some notable magnitude of empire will, as it were, spontaneously befall it.
11. Praecepto praecedenti affine est ut status quis utatur eiusmodi legibus et consuetudinibus quae iustas illi causas, aut saltem praetextus, arma capescendi tanquam in promptu ministrent.
On the contrary, however, the oracle of time is most certain: those nations which have remained longer in the profession and studies of arms (which the Romans and the Turks most especially did) make marvelous advances in amplifying empire. Indeed, even those which flourished in warlike glory for the span of only a single century nevertheless from that one century already attained an amplitude of empire, which for a long time thereafter, even with that discipline of arms relaxed, they retained.
11. Akin to the preceding precept is that a state should make use of such laws and customs as furnish to it, ready to hand, just causes—or at least pretexts—for taking up arms.
For indeed such is the inborn apprehension of justice in the minds of men, that they refrain from bringing war (which so many calamities follow) unless for a grave cause, or at least a specious one. For the Turks the cause of war is always ready and at a nod: namely, the propagation of their law and sect. The Romans, although it was a great honor for their emperors among them if he had carried forward the boundaries of their empire, nevertheless on this account, that the frontiers be extended, never undertook wars.
Therefore, for a nation aspiring to empire let this be the custom: that it have a vivid and sharp sense of any injury inflicted either upon its own frontier-subjects, or upon merchants, or upon public ministers, and that it neither from the first provocation grow torpid nor delay longer. Likewise, let it be prompt and alacritous in sending aid to its allies and confederates, a thing which was perpetual among the Romans. So much so that, if by chance upon a federate people, with whom also a defensive treaty intervened with others, a hostile inroad had been made, and that people
But as regards wars waged in ancient times on account of a certain conformity of constitutions or tacit correspondence, I do not see on what right those were founded. Such were the wars undertaken by the Romans to vindicate Greece into liberty; such by the Lacedaemonians and the Athenians for establishing or overthrowing democracies and oligarchies; such were sometimes inflicted by commonwealths upon princes under the pretext of protecting others’ subjects and freeing them from tyranny. For the present matter let this suffice to be decreed: that no increase of empire is to be expected for any state unless, at any just occasion of arming, it promptly rouses itself.
12. Nullo omnino corpus, sive sit illud naturale sive politicum, absque exercitatione sanitatem suam tueri queat. Regno autem aut reipublicae iustum atque honorificum bellum loco salubris exercitationis est. Bellum civile profecto instar caloris febrilis est.
12. No body whatsoever, whether natural or political, can keep its health without exercise. For a kingdom or a commonwealth, a just and honorable war is in the place of healthful exercise. Civil war, assuredly, is like the heat of a fever.
But external war is like heat from motion, which is above all conducive to health. For from peace that is slothful and torpid, minds are softened and morals are corrupted. But however the matter stands, so far as concerns the felicity of any state, it is, without doubt, in the interest of greatness that it be, as it were, always under arms.
13. Maris dominium monarchiae quaedam epitome est. Cicero de Pompeii contra Caesarm apparatu scribens ad Atticum consilium (inquit) Pompeii plane Themistocleum est.
And a veteran army, kept continually as if under the standards, although it is without doubt a matter of great cost and expense, is nevertheless of such a kind as to confer upon a state, as it were, the arbitrament of affairs among its neighbors, or at least very great estimation in all things—a fact notably to be seen in the Spaniards, who now for one hundred and twenty years have maintained a veteran army in some regions, albeit not always in the same.
13. The dominion of the sea is a kind of epitome of monarchy. Cicero, writing to Atticus about Pompey’s apparatus against Caesar, says: “Pompey’s plan is plainly Themistoclean.”
But this has happened when the fortune of the whole war has been committed to the hazard of such battles. That is least doubtful: he who possesses the dominion of the sea acts with great liberty, and can take from the war as much as he wishes, whereas, conversely, he who is superior in terrestrial forces nonetheless is beset by very many straits. But today, and among us Europeans, if ever or anywhere, naval power (which indeed falls to this kingdom of Britain as a dowry) is of the highest moment for the summits of affairs, both because most kingdoms of Europe are not simply inland, but for the greatest part are girdled by the sea, and also because the treasures and resources of both the Indies are, as it were, an accessory to the command of the sea.
14. Bella moderna velut in tenebris gesta censeri possunt prae gloria et decore vario quae in homines militares priscis temporibus a rebus bellicis resilire solebant. Habemus hodie, fortasse ad animos faciendos, ordines quisdam honorificos militiae, qui tamen iam facti sunt armis et togae communes. Etiam in scutis gentilitis stemmata nonnulla habemus.
14. Modern wars can be reckoned as having been waged as if in darkness, in comparison with the glory and varied decorum which in former times used to redound upon military men from warlike affairs. We have today—perhaps for the heartening of spirits—certain honorific orders of military service, which, however, have now become common to arms and to the toga alike. We also have some pedigrees in family shields (coats of arms).
Moreover, certain public hospices were destined for soldiers who had served out their time and for the maimed, and the like. But among the ancients, in the places where victories were won, trophies were erected; funeral laudations; magnificent monuments of those falling in war; civic and military crowns granted to individuals; the very name of imperator, which later the greatest kings borrowed from leaders of war; the celebrated triumphs of commanders returning when wars had been successfully finished; donatives and huge largesses to the soldiers upon the dismission of the armies: these (I say) were so many and so great, and flashing with so conspicuous a splendor, that they could insert little sparks even into the breasts of mortals most thoroughly icebound, and kindle them to war. Above all, however, that custom of triumphing among the Romans was not a matter of mere pomp or some empty spectacle, but is to be numbered plainly among the most prudent and most noble institutions, inasmuch as it contained in itself these three things: the honor and glory of the generals, the enrichment of the treasury from the spoils, and the donatives of the soldiers.
But the honor of the triumph perhaps does not pertain to monarchies, except in the persons of the kings themselves, or the sons of kings. Moreover, the same obtained in the times of the emperors at Rome, who reserved the very honor of the triumph to themselves and to their sons for wars which they themselves had accomplished in person, as something peculiar. But they indulged only the triumphal vestments and insignia to other generals.
15. Verum, ut sermones hos claudamus, nemo est (ut testatur sacra Scriptura) qui sollicite cogitando potest apponere ad staturam suam cubitum unum in pusillo scilicet corporis humani modulo. Caeterum in magna regnorum et rerumpublicarum fabrica imperium amplificare et fines proferre reges penes et dominantes est. Nam prudenter introducendo leges, instituta, et consuetudines, quales iam proposuimus et alias his similes, posteris et seculis futuris magnitudine sementem fecerunt.
15. But, to close these discourses, there is no one (as Holy Scripture testifies) who by anxious thinking can add a single cubit to his stature—in the small, namely, measure of the human body. But in the great fabric of kingdoms and commonwealths, to amplify empire and to extend the boundaries belongs to kings and those who are dominant. For by prudently introducing laws, institutions, and customs, such as we have already proposed and others like to these, they have sown the seed of greatness for posterity and for ages to come.
1. In regimine valetudinis invenire est quandam prudentiam ultra regulas medicinae. Observatio cuiusque propria eorum quae nocent, eorum quae iuvant, optima est medicina ad sanitatem tuendam. Verum tutius est concludere hoc sensi mihi nocuisse, ergo eo non utar, quam isto modo, hoc quod sensi minime offendit, ergo eo uti licet.
1. In the regimen of health there is to be found a certain prudence beyond the rules of medicine. Each person’s own observation of the things that harm and of the things that help is the best medicine for guarding health. But it is safer to conclude thus: this I have sensed to have harmed me, therefore I will not use it, than in this way: this which I sensed did not at all offend, therefore it is permitted to use it.
Yet submit to examination your habits of diet, sleep, exercise, clothing, dwelling, and the like; and, if you judge anything to be to your detriment, try to put it off little by little, yet in such a way that, if from the change you perceive any detriment, you return to the accustomed. For it is difficult to distinguish between those things which are, in their whole kind, salubrious, and those which suit the constitution of your unique body. To be with a mind unburdened and cheerful at the hours of food, sleep, and exercise is among the best precepts for prolonging life.
Insofar as regards the passions and pursuits of the mind, avoid envy, anxious fears, anger inwardly restrained, subtle and nodose disquisitions, immoderate joys and exhilarations, sadness pressed deep and not communicated. Embrace hopes, cheerfulness rather than joy, variety of delectations rather than satiety, admiration and therefore novelties, studies which replenish the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, such as histories, fables, peragrations of nature. If you altogether shun medication while using good health, it will come more ungrateful to the body, should necessity press.
If you habituate yourself too much to the same, it will detract from its powers and efficacy when disease arrives. I approve rather certain regimens for fixed times than the frequent use of medicaments, unless it has long since passed into custom. For regimens of this sort alter the body more, perturb it less.
For he who, while he is well in body, enjoins endurance upon himself in many illnesses—which, namely, are not acute—can be cured by diet alone and by a somewhat more exquisite regimen of the body, without much medication. Celsus would never have brought forth that admonition of his as a physician, unless he had also been a prudent man. In his precepts he gives, as a kind of arcanum for safeguarding health and prolonging life, that one should alternate contraries and from time to time make a change, but with a leaning toward the more benign extreme.
Namely, use a diet both more sparing and more full, but more often the fuller; accustom yourself to vigils and to more ample sleep, but more to sleep; return to rest and to motion, that is, exercise, but more frequently to motion, and the like. For thus, in due season, it will at once be fostered and will acquire robustness. Among physicians, some are so indulgent toward the sick man and his desires that they do not urge the legitimate care of the disease.
Others, on the contrary, are so regular and rigid in proceeding according to the art in the cure of disease that they do not sufficiently regard the patient’s condition and nature. Choose a physician of middle temperament; or, if this has not fallen out to your wish in any one physician, employ one of each kind. And be mindful to call in a physician no less well-acquainted with your body than approved in his art.
1. Suspiciones inter cogitationes sunt ut inter aves vespertiliones: nunquam volitant nisi luce crepera. Reprimendae certe sunt, aut saltem caute custodiendae. Mentem enim obnubilant, amicos alienant, et negota interpellant ita ut nec alacriter nec constanter peragi possint.
1. Suspicions are among thoughts as bats among birds: they never fly except in crepuscular light. They surely ought to be checked, or at least cautiously kept under guard. For they cloud the mind, alienate friends, and interrupt affairs, so that they can be carried through neither briskly nor steadily.
Do they not know that those men aspire to their own proper ends, and that each is nearer to himself than to another? There is therefore no method more apt for moderating suspicions than to prepare remedies as if the suspicions were true, but to put a bridle on them as if they were false. For suspicions can be of use to this extent: that we so prepare ourselves that, even if what we suspect were true, nevertheless it could not harm.
Suspicions which the mind gathers from itself are
For from this it cannot but come to pass that we know more whether they are true or not than before. This at the same time will render him whom we hold suspect more cautious and circumspect, lest he afford a new occasion of suspicion. But this ought not to be done with men of perverse and degenerate disposition.
1. Sunt qui in sermonibus affectant optius ingenii laudem qua in quamcumque partem disputare possint, quam iudicii in veritate enucleanda, ac si laudabile esset invenire quid dici possit, non quid teneri debeat. Sunt qui in promptu habent locos aliquos communes et themata in quibus luxuriantur, caetera steriles et ieiuni. Quod penuriae genus plerunque taedio afficit, et quamprimum notam subierit in ridiculum evadit.
1. There are those who in discourses affect rather the praise of ingenuity, by which they can dispute into whatever side, than of judgment in enucleating truth—as if it were laudable to find what can be said, not what ought to be held. There are those who have at the ready certain commonplaces and themes in which they luxuriate, but in the rest they are sterile and jejune. This kind of penury for the most part brings tedium, and as soon as it has incurred the mark, it passes into ridicule.
The more honorable part of discourse is this: to provide the handle of the conversation, and in turn to moderate the same and to pass on to other matters. For then one leads the dance. It is certainly good in conversation and in familiar colloquies now and then to vary, and to intermingle discourses about present matters with disputations, narratives with arguments, questions with positive statements, the jocose with the serious.
Satiety, indeed, and fastidiousness are begotten by lingering too long on some subject. As to jests, there are certain things that ought to be exempt from jest, as by a privilege: religion; the affairs of the commonwealth; exalted persons; the greater-moment business of private individuals; and, finally, every pitiable mishap. Yet you will find some for whom their wits seem to fall asleep unless they have hurled at someone some sharp and mordant sarcasm.
2. In summa, discrimen servandum inter salsa et amara. Certe qui satyricam amplectitur venam, sicut aliis metum iniicit ab ingenio suo, ita ab aliorum memoria metuere debet. Qui interrogat multum, et addiscet multa, et placebit in multis, praesertim si quaestiones suas ad captum et peritiam respondentis adaptet, siquidem occasionem ei praebebit scientiam suam ostentandi.
2. In sum, a discrimination must be preserved between the salty and the bitter. Certainly, he who embraces a satyric vein, just as he instills fear in others by his genius, so ought to fear from the memory of others. He who questions much will also learn many things and will be agreeable in many matters, especially if he adapts his questions to the capacity and expertise of the respondent, since he will thereby afford him the occasion of ostentating his knowledge.
Even he who desires to preserve the dignity of familiar discourse should leave to others the turns of speaking. Nay rather, if there are some present who aim to dominate the conversations and to occupy all the time, let him know how by a certain art to break them off and to induce others to speak, just as pipers are wont to moderate for the dancers. If you sometimes dissimulate knowledge of the things you are supposed to know, you will be thought at other times to know those things you do not know.
That is, if he praises another’s virtue—but I understand that virtue to be the one to which he himself aspires. Talk that is pungent and vellicates others is to be used sparingly. For familiar conversations ought to be like an open field in which it is permitted to stroll, not a royal road which conducts one home.
I knew two nobles in the western part of England, of whom the one indulged far too much in jests and scoffs, yet was very hospitable. The other was accustomed to ask the guests of the former, “Say, pray, had not some jest intervened, made at someone’s expense?” To one guest, by chance, something of that sort befell.
But he, as being an emulator of the other, I well knew would spoil a good luncheon with bad condiments. Discourse with discretion excels eloquence, and to speak aptly and accommodated to the person with whom we converse is more efficacious than to snatch at ornaments of words or of method. A good continuous oration, without good interlocution, shows tardity; but ready reply and good interlocution, without the faculty of continuing a speech, betrays penury and a knowledge least founded, just as we see in animals that are less strong in running to be most agile in turning, as happens between the hare-hound and the hare.
1. Coloniae eminent inter antiqua et heroica opera. Mundus cum adhuc iuvenis esset plures progenuit liberos; nunc senex factus, pauciores. Etenim non immerito colonias novas tanquam liberos nationum antiquorum duxerim.
1. Colonies are eminent among ancient and heroic works. The world, while it was still young, begot more children; now, having become old, fewer. For indeed, not without good reason, I would deem new colonies as the children of the ancient nations.
I approve the plantation of peoples on pure ground; I understand it to be where a people is not destroyed so that a people may be brought in. For when this is the case, it is outright extirpation, not plantation. The plantation of regions is not dissimilar to the plantation of forests, in which nothing about utility to be taken should be considered before the twentieth year; rather, an abundant and opulent yield is to be expected at the end of the work.
That, assuredly, which chiefly overturns colonies—others that would otherwise succeed well—was that sordid and greedy capture of lucre at the outset of colonies. It is true that an accelerated harvest of profit is not to be neglected, provided it is conjoined with the good of the colony, but not beyond. It is something unworthy and ill-omened, when the dregs of the people, exiles, and the condemned are taken for the seedbed of a colony.
Nay more, it corrupts and destroys the colony itself. For men of this sort, profligate, will live after the manner of vagrants, nor will they gird themselves to the work, but will give themselves over to idleness. Nay even, they will perpetrate crimes, consume the crops, and will be affected with a distaste for the colony.
And then at last they will send messengers and letters to their homeland to the prejudice and disgrace of the plantation. The people who are to be taken into the colony should chiefly be artisans of the following kinds: gardeners, ploughmen, diggers, iron-smiths, carpenters, fishermen, fowlers, surgeons, pharmacopolists (apothecaries), cooks, bakers, brewers, and the like. In the region where you intend to plant, survey first what kind of edibles and potables the land of itself, without cultivation, brings forth, such as chestnuts, walnuts, pine nuts, olives, dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the like. Then inquire what kind of victuals the soil can produce quickly within a year, such as parsnips, figs, cabbages, onions, radishes, melons, pumpkins, cucumbers, artichokes of Jerusalem, maize, and others.
As for wheat, siligo (fine wheat), barley, and oats, these grains demand excessive cultivation. Nevertheless, one may also begin with beans and peas, both because they require less labor and because they serve no less as food than bread. Likewise from rice a manifold harvest comes forth, which also provides an abundance of food.
Before all things, a great supply must be transported of twice-baked bread (hardtack), flour from oats, meal, flour of every kind, and the like, so that at the outset they may be at hand until bread can be prepared. Choose livestock and birds which are chiefly immune from diseases and, beyond the rest, prolific—such as pigs, goats, hens, Indian hens (turkeys), geese, domestic doves, rabbits, and the like. Moreover, I prescribe that one apply oneself to fisheries, both for the sustentation of the colony and for the profit of exportation.
Provisions in colonies must be distributed with so sparing a hand as in besieged towns, that is, pro rata. Moreover, let the greatest part of the soil that is turned into gardens or fields be assigned to the public granaries, in which the crops are to be stored and distributed by a fixed measure—yet so that some portions of the estate remain over in which the industry of individuals may exercise itself. Look about, furthermore, for what native commodities that region produces, so that the exportation of them to places where they are most in price may lighten expenses, as happens with the Nicotian (tobacco) in Virginia—provided it be not (as already said) to the untimely prejudice of the colony itself.
Forests in deserted regions abound for the most part. And so timber suitable for buildings, ships, or uses of that kind is to be numbered among the principal commodities. If a vein of iron is found and little streams suitable for iron-mills, iron is among the lucrative commodities in forested regions.
Yet do not put too much trust in mines, especially at the beginning. For mines are deceitful and costly, and with fair hope they cajole the colonists, making them slothful about other matters. Let the governance of the colony be entrusted to one, to whom nevertheless several counselors should sit beside, and let them be fortified with authority after the example of military law, but somewhat restricted.
Before all things, let men pluck this fruit for themselves by living in the desert: that they always have God and his worship before their eyes. Again, let the colony not depend upon a more numerous council (I mean, in the region, with the mother-colony residing), nor be subjected to an excessive multitude on account of meager contributions. But let the number of those who manage and order the affairs of the colony be moderate.
Let them be rather from the nobles and the well‑born than from merchants. For these, indeed, gape more than enough after present profit. Let there plainly be immunity from imposts and customs until the colony has grown up; and let not only immunity from payments of moneys be granted, but also the liberty of exporting merchandise into whatever parts they wish, unless some grave cause should stand in the way.
Do not cram the colony with people, nor overburden it by sending in one contingent after another, but rather apply yourself to diligent information as to how many heads from time to time are diminished, and make up for these in a suitable number proportionally, yet in such a way that the colonists may live well and not be afflicted by penury. Building next to the sea and rivers in swampy and watery places has long since brought great detriment to the salubrity of many colonies. Therefore, although one must begin from places of this sort because of the convenience of transport and of other matters, nevertheless one must gradually ascend into the higher parts of the region and those more remote from the waters.
It also concerns the health of the colony that a sufficiently good supply of salt be conveyed, by which foods, which are likely otherwise often to become putrid, may be seasoned. If you plant a colony where barbarians have their seats, by no means conciliate them only with trifles and trinkets, but win them over by justice and gracious methods. Yet diminish nothing of the garrisons that pertain to security.
Nor should you even angle for their benevolence by aids against their own enemies, but it will not be unsuitable to come to their help with aids of defense. It is also of concern to send some of the indigenous people often into the region whence the colony migrated, where they would see the conditions of the inhabitants far superior to their own, and to have them, upon return, divulge this among their own. After the colony has grown up and taken on robustness, it will be timely to send in women, so that the colony may propagate from itself and not always depend on externals.
1. Divitias cognomine magis proprio vocare nequeam quam ut eas appellem impedimenta virtutis. Sicut enim se habent impedimenta ad exercitum, ita divitiae ad virtutem: necessariae siquidem sunt, sed graves. Quinetiam cura illarum victoriam saepe disturbat.
1. I cannot call riches by any more proper by-name than to name them the impediments of virtue. For as the baggage relates to an army, so riches to virtue: indeed they are necessary, but burdensome. And moreover, the care of them often disturbs victory.
There is no use of great riches except in disbursing them; the rest revolve in opinion. Solomon dictates the same: where there is much wealth, there are many who eat it; and what does it profit the possessor, save that he beholds the riches with his eyes? The possession of riches suffuses the master with no pleasure, as regards sense.
But the solid use of them is not given that reaches the owner. Do you not see those feigned prices by which gems and rarities of this sort are appraised, and how empty works are undertaken for mere ostentation, so that some use of great riches may seem to be seen? But someone will say that their use may be seen especially in this, that they redeem their masters from dangers and calamities.
As Solomon says, the substance of the rich man is his city of strength, and as a wall raised on high in his own imagination. But Solomon cautiously says that in imagination, not in reality, such they are. For more people, without controversy, have been sold by their great riches than have been redeemed.
Do not pursue great riches, but such as you can justly procure, to expend soberly, to disburse cheerfully, and to let go willingly. Nor, however, should you foster a contempt of them, after the fashion of some monk or one withdrawn from the world, but distinguish on the basis of use, as Cicero very well [said] about Rabirius Postumus: in the zeal for amplifying the estate, it appeared that what was being sought was not a prey for avarice but an instrument for goodness. Hearken also to Solomon, and do not gape after a precipitate accumulation of wealth: he who hastens to riches will not be innocent.
Poets feign Plutus (whose name sounds “riches”) sent by Jove to limp and to be slow-going, but when from Pluto, to run and be swift of foot, insinuating that riches acquired by good arts and by just labor approach slowly, but those arriving through the death of others (as from inheritances, testaments, or the like) rush headlong. Nor will this fable be less intelligible of Pluto, if you take Pluto for the Devil. For when wealth flows from the Devil (as through frauds, oppressions, injustice, and crimes) it is borne with rapid course.
2. Viae ad ditescendum variae, et pleraeque earum foedae. Parsimonia inter optimas censeri possit, neque tamen ipsa omnino innocens est. Opera enim liberalitatis et charitatis coarctat.
2. The ways to grow rich are various, and most of them are foul. Parsimony could be reckoned among the best, yet it is not itself altogether innocent. For it constricts the works of liberality and charity.
I knew among the nobles of England a certain man to whom the greatest revenues accrued from the rural interest, beyond any other subjects whatsoever of my time. He was wealthy in herds, sheep, woods both coppice and larger timber, in stone-coal, grain, mines of lead and iron, and in several other rustic proceeds. So much so that the land was to him as the sea, perpetually importing merchandise.
It was rightly observed by a certain man that he had, with great labor, come to scant riches, and to great riches with hardly any. For after someone’s pecuniary resources have so increased that he can await the opportunities of fairs and markets, and can carry off those contracts for which, on account of the greatness of the sum, very few men are fit, and can also participate in the labors of others who are less abundant in money, it cannot but be that he grows rich beyond measure. Profits from professions are certainly honorable, and they are promoted chiefly by two things: diligence and good reputation on account of probity in negotiating.
But the lucre from larger contracts is for the most part of a more ambivalent nature, when, namely, a man besieges the necessities and straits of others, corrupts others’ slaves and attendants to the damage of their masters, artfully and slyly removes other buyers who perhaps would have consented to higher prices, and practices frauds of this sort. All of which are deservedly to be condemned. As for purchases with the intention not of retaining but of selling again, those grind, as it were, on almost both sides, pressing both the seller and the buyer.
Partnerships enrich abundantly, if a cautious selection be applied of those with whom the partnership is entered. Usury is among the surest kinds of gain, albeit among the most depraved, inasmuch as it makes a man eat his bread in the sweat of another’s brow, and does not cease to work on the Sabbath. Yet though it be sure, it is not without its secret fissures, since notaries and factors, for their own advantage, will sometimes exalt men of doubtful fortunes.
To be first in some new invention, or by privilege, sometimes lavishes a kind of inundation of wealth, as happened to the first sugar-refiner in the Canaries. And so, if someone can show himself a skilled dialectician so as to add judgment to invention, he will without doubt accomplish great things, especially if the times are propitious. He who hunts only sure gains hardly rises to great riches.
On the contrary, he who is wholly in uncertainties will scarcely avoid losses of fortune. It will therefore be good to fortify uncertain profits with certain ones, so that losses may be relieved. Monopolies and coemptions of goods for re-selling, where they are prohibited by no law, pave an easy road to riches, especially if someone can foresee which wares are going to come into estimation, and in that way abundantly equip himself with them.
The acquisition of wealth through the service of kings or magnates has a certain dignity. Yet, if it be procured by flatteries and servile artifices, by bending oneself to every nod, it can be numbered among the most vilest ways. As to the hunting of testaments and legacies (as Tacitus charges Seneca, that wills and the childless are caught as if by a hunting-toil), this affair is still worse, inasmuch as we have to do with men of a more humble condition than in service.
3. Fidem illis nimiam ne adhibeas qui prae se ferunt contemptum divitiarum. Etenim opes despiciunt qui desperant. Neque invenies usquam tenaciores ubi incipient ditescere.
3. Do not lend excessive trust to those who make a show of contempt for riches. For indeed, those who despair despise wealth. Nor will you find anywhere people more tight‑fisted when they begin to grow wealthy.
In both kinds, legacies that are somewhat more moderate turn out better. Great riches left to an heir invite birds of prey to flock to them from every side, unless the heir is more confirmed in age and judgment. Likewise, glorious and splendid foundations for public uses are after the fashion of sacrifices without salt, and nothing other than whitewashed sepulchers of almsdeeds, which from within will quickly be corrupted and putrefy.
1. Ambitio choleram refert, quod genus humoris activos, vehementes, alacres, et promptos reddit, nisi obstructionem patiatur. Quod si obstructione concludatur adeo ut libere permeare non possit, fit adusta, et inde maligna et venenosa. Similiter ambitiosi, si in ambitu et petitione sua repulsas non patiantur sed semper sint in progressu, polypragmones potius sunt quam periculosi.
1. Ambition resembles choler, which kind of humor makes men active, vehement, alacritous, and prompt, unless it suffer obstruction. But if it be shut in by obstruction to such a degree that it cannot freely permeate, it becomes adust, and thence malignant and venomous. Similarly, the ambitious, if in their ambit and petition they do not suffer repulses but are always in progress, are polypragmones rather than perilous.
But if in their cupidities they are reined and again and again frustrated, they foster malevolence and envy in the heart, and with an altogether iniquitous eye they regard both things and men, and only then do they rejoice in their bosom when things go ill. Such an affect of mind fits most badly with servants of kings or of commonwealths. It will therefore be good for princes (if they make use of ambitious men) so to dispose the matter that they be perpetually directed, never retrograde.
Since that cannot be done without prejudice, it would be better to abstain altogether from men of such a character. For if they themselves do not rise with their service, they will take pains that their service collapse along with themselves. But, since we have just said that the ambitious are not to be employed except under urgent necessity, it will be worth the effort now to say in what cases the use of them is necessary.
2. Imperatores et duces in bello boni, utcunque ambitiosi sint, omnino recipiendi. Etenim utilitas ipsorum ut praeficiantur caetera compensat. Militem autem deligere qui ambitione vacet perinde est acsi calcaribus eum spolies.
2. Emperors and commanders good in war, however ambitious they may be, are altogether to be received. For indeed their utility, that they be put in charge, compensates the rest. But to choose a soldier who is void of ambition is just as if you were to strip him of his spurs.
Indeed, there is another use of ambitious men: that they may serve in the place of an umbrella for princes against envy and peril. For no one will take on those parts unless he is like a blinded dove, which therefore flies upward because it cannot look around. There is also another not small use of ambitious men: that they cut off the wings of the over-mighty, and undermine their power.
3. Quandoquidem igitur in casibus memoratis necessarii sint, superest ut ostendamus qua ratione sint froenandi et coercendi ut minus ab illis impendeat periculi. Perniciosi minus sint si natalibus ignobiles quam si nobiles, si ingenio paulo truciores et asperiores quam si gratiosi et populares, denique si nuper honoribus admoti quam si veteratores facti sint et in honoribus suis muniti.
Just as Tiberius employed Macron to cast down Sejanus.
3. Since therefore in the cases already mentioned they are necessary, it remains to show by what method they are to be reined and coerced, so that less danger may impend from them. They are less pernicious if ignoble by birth than if noble; if in temper somewhat more truculent and harsher than if ingratiating and popular; and finally if newly admitted to honors rather than if they have become old hands and are fortified in their offices.
By most it is taken as a sign of a weak mind in princes if they join to themselves favorites and intimates. Yet, if the truth must be spoken, no other remedy is found more excellent against the excessive power of nobles or magistrates. For whenever the power of helping and harming resides with the favorite, it will scarcely come to pass that any other of the nobles swells greatly with power.
Another method of restraining the ambitious is not a bad one, if they are counterbalanced by others equally ambitious and insolent. But then there is need of some more moderate counsellors, who hold the middle ground, lest factions sink everything. For indeed without that ballast the ship will wobble on its own.
At least they will be able to allure princes and to animate some of humbler condition, who may be, as it were, the flagella of the ambitious. As for ingendering that opinion in the ambitious, that they think themselves next to ruin and thus be contained, if they are timorous, perhaps it will succeed well; but if high‑spirited and audacious, it will precipitate their attempts and machinations, nor is it without peril. What if necessity should exact that they be in very truth cast down, and it were not safe to do this all at once and suddenly?
4. Ex ambitionibus minus est nociva cupiditas praevalendi in rebus maioribus quam se immiscendi rebus omnibus. Istud enim confusionem consiliorum parit et negotia destruit.
It will be best to receive them alternately with favors and repulses, so that they stand thunderstruck and confused, not knowing what to expect, and walk, as it were, within a forest.
4. Among ambitions, less noxious is the desire to prevail in greater matters than to meddle in all things. For that begets a confusion of counsels and destroys business.
But he who contrives this, that he may depress men of sound heart and that he himself alone be the one number among ciphers, is the plague and the calamity of any age. Honor is distinguished by three advantages: the power of well-deserving, easy access to leading men, and the elevation of one’s own fortunes for the better. He who, when he aspires, fosters the best intention of these three is an upright man.
A prince too who is able to discern and to distinguish such intentions in his servants is a prudent prince. But, in general, for princes such servants are to be preferred who are led more by duty than by ambition, and who embrace affairs and love them rather out of good conscience than out of ostentation. Finally, let princes distinguish with judgment between talents that thrust themselves into every affair and a prompt or alacritous spirit.
XXXVI. [ = English XXXVIII] DE NATURA ET INDOLE NATURALE IN HOMINIBUS
36. [ = English 38] ON NATURE AND THE NATURAL DISPOSITION IN HUMAN BEINGS
1. Natura occultatur saepenumero, interdum vincitur, raro extinguitur. Vis naturam efficit magis impetuosam cum recurrit. Doctrina et praecepta affectus naturales reddunt minus quidem importunos, sed non tollunt.
1. Nature is very often concealed, sometimes conquered, rarely extinguished. Force makes nature more impetuous when it returns. Teaching and precepts render natural affections indeed less importunate, but do not remove them.
But custom alone is that which plainly changes and subjugates nature. Whoever desires to carry off a victory over his own nature should set for himself tasks neither too great nor too small. For the former will cast down the spirit on account of frequent frustrations; the latter will not lift it much, even if he more often prevails.
Where nature is exceedingly potent, and accordingly victory difficult, it will be needful to proceed by certain grades, which are as follows. First, to arrest nature for some time, in the manner of that man who, when he grew angry, used to recite the letters of the alphabet before he did anything. Second, to moderate nature and reduce it to smaller portions, as when someone exercising abstinence from wine comes down from larger draughts to smaller.
2. Neque antiqua regula reiicenda ut naturam, adinstar bacilli, in contrariam partem flectas, quo recta tandem deveniat. Verum intellige hoc, ubi extremum illud alterum in vitium non ducat. Insuper et hoc advertas, ne habitum superinducere contendas nixu continuo, sed intermisso.
2. Nor is the ancient rule to be rejected: that you bend nature, after the likeness of a rod, into the contrary direction, so that at length it may become straight. But understand this, provided that that other extreme does not lead into vice. Moreover advert also to this, that you should not strive to superinduce a habit by continuous effort, but by an intermitted one.
Moreover, do not too quickly strike up a triumphal song of victory over nature. For nature will lie buried for a long time, and yet, when an occasion is given, will revive—just as befell the girl in Aesop who had been converted from a cat into a woman. She was sitting very civilly at the table until by chance a mouse ran into her sight.
XXXVII. [ = English XXXIX] DE CONSUETUDINE ET EDUCATIONE
37. [ = English 39] ON CUSTOM AND EDUCATION
1. Cogitationes hominum sequuntur plerunque inclinationes suas, sermones autem doctrinas et opiniones quas imbiberunt, at facta eorum ferme antiquum obtinent. Itaque, ut bene notat Macchiavellus (licet in exemplo scelerato) minime fidendum est aut naturae violentiae aut verborum grandiloquentiae nisi corroborentur consuetudine. Instantia eius haec est: in facinore aliquo audaci et crudeli patrando non acquiescendum esse, aut in naturae alicuius ferocia, aut in promissis constantibus, nedum iuramentis, sed commitendum esse scelus esse viris sanguinolentis et iamdudum caedibus assuetis.
1. The thoughts of men for the most part follow their own inclinations, but their speeches the doctrines and opinions which they have imbibed, while their deeds almost always keep their old course. Therefore, as Machiavelli well notes (albeit in a criminal example), one should by no means trust either the violence of a nature or the grandiloquence of words unless they are corroborated by custom. His instance is this: in perpetrating some bold and cruel deed, one must not rely either on anyone’s ferocity of nature, or on steadfast promises, much less on oaths, but the crime must be entrusted to men blood-stained and long accustomed to slaughters.
But nothing was known to Machiavelli of a certain Friar Clement, or Ravaillac, or Jáuregui, or Balthasar Gérard, or Guido Fawkes. Yet his rule holds: that nature, or the pledged faith and ferocity of promises, are by no means equipollent to the forces of custom. Only superstition in our times has advanced so far that assassins of the first class, with their ears made fast with wool, do not yield in the least, and that votive decrees, even in a sanguinary matter, equal the powers of custom.
In any other matters whatsoever the power of custom shines forth clearly; so much so that it is like a miracle to hear how many professions, protestations, promises, grand words the majority vaunt, and yet, with all these set aside, to act according to the wonted manner as if they were images and machines wholly inanimate, driven and propelled by the wheels of custom alone. One may also see the tyranny of custom in many other things.
The Indians (I speak of the Gymnosophists, both ancient and modern) gently compose themselves upon the pyre, and in this way sacrifice themselves by fire. Moreover, women too hasten to be cast onto the pyre with their husbands. The Spartan boys in ancient times endured being scourged upon the altar of Diana, scarcely emitting any ululation or groan.
I remember, in the early days of Queen Elizabeth, a certain Irish rebel petitioning the Deputy that he be hanged by a wooden torc, not by a rope, because that was more in the custom of rebels. Monks are found in Russia who, for the completing of penance, will not refuse to sit through an entire winter night in a vessel filled with water until they are constricted by ice. Finally, very many examples could be adduced, revealing the plainly astounding powers of custom both over the mind and over the body.
Since therefore custom, as though it were the supreme governor and magistrate of human life, let it be our chief concern to adopt good morals. Surely consuetude is most potent, since it begins from childhood; this we call education, which is nothing else than a consuetude imbibed from tender years. Thus it is seen, in learning languages, that the tongue itself more conveniently applies itself to all expressions and sounds, and likewise the limbs are more agile and flexible for all postures and motions in childhood or adolescence than thereafter.
2. Verum si consuetudinis vires, cum simplex solummodo sit et seiuncta, tantae sint, multo magis consuetudo copulata et coniuncta, et in collegium coacta, excellit. Isthic enim exemplum docet, relevat societas, emulatio stimulat, gloria animos extollit, ita ut in huiusmodi locis vires et influxus consuetudinis tanquam in exaltatione sint.
For it is most true that those opsimaths do not well admit a new fold, unless there be in certain persons whose minds are not yet fixed, but who have kept themselves open to all precepts, so that they straightway receive amendment—a thing most rare.
2. But if the powers of consuetude, when it is simple only and disjoined, are so great, much more does consuetude, coupled and conjoined, and gathered into a college, excel. There, in fact, example teaches, society relieves, emulation stimulates, glory lifts up spirits, so that in places of this kind the forces and influx of consuetude are, as it were, in exaltation.
Certainly multiplication and (to use the vocabulary of the chymists) projection over human nature consists in societies well instituted and informed by salubrious discipline. For indeed republics rightly administered, and even good laws, nourish virtue in the blade, but do not much promote its seeds. Yet the misfortune of the world has this: that the means of the greatest powers are sometimes applied to ends least to be desired.
1. Negari non potest quin accidentia et casus externi ad hominum fortunas vel promovendas vel deprimendas plurimum possint. Gratia alicuius ex magnatibus, opportunitas, aliorum obitus, occasio virtuti cuiusque congrua. Veruntamen fortunam suam fingere cuique praecipue in manu propria est.
1. It cannot be denied that accidents and external chances can do very much to promote or to depress the fortunes of men. The favor of some magnate, an opportunity, the death of others, an occasion congruent to each one’s virtue. Nevertheless, to fashion one’s own fortune is chiefly in one’s own hand.
2. Virtutes apertae et conspicuae laudes pariunt. At insunt virtutes quaedam occultae et latentes quae pariunt fortunam, nimirum facultates nonnullae se expediendi quae nomen non habet.
As the adage says, a serpent, unless it has eaten a serpent, does not become a dragon.
2. Open and conspicuous virtues beget lauds. But there are certain occult and latent virtues which beget fortune, namely certain faculties of extricating oneself which have no name.
The Spanish term (desemboltura) hints at these in some measure. Namely, when there are found in a person’s nature no bars or impediments, but the wheels of the mind are versatile to the motion of the wheels of fortune. Thus Livy (after he had described Cato the Elder with these words, “in that man there was such strength of body and mind that, in whatever place he had been born, he would seem about to make fortune for himself”). He expressly notes this: that he had a versatile genius.
Wherefore, if someone should look with sidelong and drawn‑together eyes, he will see Fortune. For although she is blind, she is not, however, altogether invisible. Indeed, the path of Fortune is like the galaxy in the aether, which is a concourse or coacervation of many minute stars, separately invisible but jointly luminous.
In the same way, several virtues are exiguous and scarcely falling into notice, or rather apposite faculties and consuetudes which render men fortunate. The Italians themselves mark some of these such as one would least suppose. When they point out a man to whom they promise prosperous fortune, among his other qualities they add that he has poco di matto.
3. Fortuna praepropera magna molientes et nonnihil turbulentos reddit.
Nor indeed are there found any other two qualities more propitious to this, than if one should have a modest share from the fool, and not overmuch from the honest man. And so those for whom their fatherland or their princes have proven too dear by too much, the same have never been fortunate, nor indeed can they be; for whenever someone has placed his thoughts outside himself, he cannot set his own way well upon its course.
3. Overhasty Fortune renders men undertakers of great things and not a little turbulent.
4. Narratur de Timotheo Atheniensi, postquam in reddendis rationibus praefecturae suae, hanc clausulam ad ravim usque inseruisset, atque in hoc nullae erant fortunae partes, deinceps illi nihil cessisse prospere. Sunt certe quorum fortuna similis carminibus Homeri, quae maiore cum facilitate fluunt quam aliorum poetarum versus, id quod Plutarchus de fortuna Timoleontis ad fortunas Agesilai aut Epaminondae comparata praedicat.
And this has not escaped observation, that those who professedly have ascribed too much to wisdom and to their own arts have in the end turned out unfortunate.
4. It is told about Timotheus the Athenian that, after, in rendering the accounts of his prefecture, he had inserted this clause even to hoarseness—“and in this there were no parts of Fortune”—thereafter nothing succeeded prosperously for him. There are certainly some whose Fortune is similar to the songs of Homer, which flow with greater facility than the verses of other poets; which is what Plutarch proclaims concerning the Fortune of Timoleon, compared when set beside the Fortunes of Agesilaus or Epaminondas.
1. Plurimi invectivas quasdam ingeniosas in foeneratores commenti sunt. Dicunt miserum esse Diabolum in Dei partem involasse, decimas scilicet. Foeneratorem maximum esse Sabbathi violatorem, aratrum siquidem suum non cessare Sabbathis.
1. Very many have contrived certain ingenious invectives against usurers. They say it is pitiable that the Devil has swooped upon God’s share, namely the tithes. They say the usurer is the greatest violator of the Sabbath, since indeed his plough does not cease on the Sabbaths.
Foeneratum legem primitivam post lapsum hominis latam pessundare, quae fuit in sudore vultus tui comedas panem tuum, minime vero in sudore vultus alieni. Foenoratores pileis luteis indui oportere, quia Iudaizant. Rem esse contra naturam ut pecunia generaret pecuniam.
Usury undermines the primitive law promulgated after the fall of man, which was: “in the sweat of your face you shall eat your bread,” by no means, indeed, in the sweat of another’s face. Usurers ought to be clad with yellow caps, because they Judaize. It is a thing against nature that money should beget money.
And other things of this kind. But I for my part say only this: that usury (foenus) is among the concessions on account of hardness of heart, since it is necessary for human beings to give and receive moneys on loan; and, since they are of so hard a heart that they are unwilling to lend them gratis, it remains that usuries be permitted.
Some others have brought into the midst certain clever and suspect propositions about bankers and public exchanges, the detection of the fortunes of individual men, and other artifices of this kind. But few have discoursed about usury in a solid and useful way. It would be best to set before our eyes the advantages and disadvantages of usury, so that the good may either be weighed or separated.
2. Incommoda foenoris haec sunt. Primum, quod mercatorum numerum minuit.
Moreover, take care especially lest, while by usury we are borne toward the better, we be intercepted and fall into the worse.
2. The disadvantages of usury are these. First, that it diminishes the number of merchants.
For if this slothful disbursement of money into usury were taken away from the midst, coins would not lurk because of sluggishness, but for the most part would be expended on commerce, which, like veins, is the gate for introducing wealth into any kingdom. Second, that it renders merchants destitute.
For just as a tenant-farmer cannot cultivate the land so fruitfully if he pays too heavy a rent, so a merchant can scarcely exercise his commerce so commodiously and lucratively if he does business with funds borrowed at interest. Third, an inconvenience, as a kind of appendix to the two former, is the diminution of customs and public revenues, which flow and ebb according to the measure of commerce. Fourth, that it reduces the treasure and monies of the kingdom or commonwealth into the hands of a few.
Since indeed the usurer’s profit is certain, that of the others uncertain, it will come about in the end of the game, just as often in dice-play, that the greatest part of the money yields to the banker. This, however, must be held as inconcussum: the commonwealth flourishes chiefly when monies are dispersed, not hoarded. Fifth, that it depresses the price of land and estates.
3. E contraria, commoda foenoris haec sunt.
In which money would in no way be lacking to itself unless it were hindered by that torpedo. Lastly, that it is the moth and the shipworm of the resources of very many men, which in the course of time begets public poverty.
3. On the contrary, the advantages of usury are these.
First, although usury in some kinds of trade does harm, nevertheless in others it profits. For it is most certain that the greatest part of commerce is carried on by younger merchants with monies taken at interest. Whence, if the moneylender either exacts the monies or does not issue them, a great disaster to trade must necessarily follow.
The second is this: unless this prompt lending of moneys by moneylenders came to the aid of men’s necessities, they would quickly be reduced into extreme straits, since they would be forced to sell their property (whether movable goods or landed estates) at too cheap a price. And so, when interest only gnaws, over-hasty liquidations would utterly swallow everything. For as to pignorations, or those things which the jurisconsults call “dead gages” (mortgages), they will scarcely furnish a remedy for this evil.
For indeed either men will not accept such things at all without usury, or, if they do accept them, should payment on the due day be in no way rendered, they will proceed with the strictest right. I remember a certain moneyed man, a hard man, living in the countryside, who used to say, “Let that usury go to the gallows.” It is a hindrance, by which we are the less able to exact the penalties of pledges and obligations.
Third and last is this: I call it sheer nonsense if anyone supposes that the borrowing of monies could be done easily, with no interest admitted. Nor, again, has one taken to heart the innumerable evils that will follow, if those contracts of loan—of money given and received—be torn up. Accordingly, to make speeches about abolishing usury outright would be inept.
4. Dicamus iam de reformatione et norma usurarum, quibus nimirum modis incommoda earum optime evitentur, commoda retineantur.
All republics have tolerated them, though with differing rationale as regards the principal. So much so that that opinion must straightway be relegated to Utopia.
4. Let us now speak of the reformation and the norm of usury: by what methods, to wit, the disadvantages of it may best be avoided, while its advantages are retained.
It is now evident, by comparing with each other the advantages and disadvantages of usury (which we have just done), that there are two things which ought to be reconciled. First, that the teeth of usury be blunted so that it does not bite too much. Second, that a way be opened for wealthy men by which they may be invited to furnish money to merchants, lest commerce be cut off or grow languid.
However, this cannot be done unless you introduce two proportions in usury, a lesser and a greater. For if you reduce usury to a single proportion only, and that a lesser one, you will somewhat relieve the borrower, but the merchant will not easily find monies. And moreover it must be noted that commerce, since it is of all things the most lucrative, can bear usury at a quite large proportion, other contracts by no means.
5. Ut his duabus intentionibus satisfiat, hac via insistere licet. Duae sunto foenoris proportiones. Prior omnibus permittatur, posterior cum licentia aliquibus tantum hominibus, et in aliquibus reipublicae locis ubi mercatura fervet, concedatur.
5. That these two intentions may be satisfied, it is permitted to proceed by this way. Let there be two proportions of usury. Let the former be permitted to all; let the latter, with license, be granted only to some men, and in certain places of the commonwealth where commerce is fervent.
Since the annual value of estates here with us in England will exceed that of usury reduced to this proportion, as much as the annual value of six pounds exceeds that of five only. This, finally, will sharpen and stir the industries of men toward useful and lucrative inventions, because very many will rather devote themselves to such inventions than acquiesce in so slender a profit, such as we have said, from usuries—especially since they have long been accustomed to a greater profit from the same. Secondly, let license be granted to certain specified persons to lend to known merchants, and not to any other persons whatsoever.
For example, if someone previously used to receive ten or nine pounds per hundred pounds of principal each year, he will rather be content with eight pounds than divest the moneylender, or exchange certainties for uncertainties. Let those to whom a license is, of course, granted be in number by no means defined, yet nevertheless be restricted to certain cities and towns where commerce flourishes. For thus, under the pretext of licenses, we do not have the opportunity of lending other people’s monies for our own advantage, nor will the proportion of nine or eight pounds, fortified by license, absorb that general one of five pounds.
40. [ = English 42] ON YOUTH AND OLD AGE
1. Iuvenis annis poterit esse senix horis, si temporis iacturam non fecerit. Sed hoc raro contigit. Generaliter iuventus similis est primis cogitationibus quae secundis sapientia cedunt.
1. A youth in years can be an old man within hours, if he does not make a loss of time. But this rarely happens. Generally, youth is like first thoughts, which, in wisdom, yield to second thoughts.
For indeed there is a certain youthfulness in cogitations no less than in ages. Yet the invention of the young is more vivacious than that of the old, and imaginations glide down into their minds better and, as it were, more divinely. Hot-blooded natures, and those which are driven hither and thither by violent cupidities and perturbations, do not become mature for conducting affairs until they reach the noon of their age, as is to be seen in Julius Caesar and Septimius Severus, of the latter of whom it has been said that he spent his youth full of errors—nay, of frenzies—who yet, in the entire series of emperors, was almost the most celebrated.
Young men are more apt for discovering than for judging, and strong rather in execution than in counsels, and are better employed on new affairs than on the accustomed. For the experience of old men directs them in those things which fall under their experience, but in new matters it misleads them. The errors of young men very often ruin affairs.
But the errors of old men scarcely proceed further than this: that more could have been done, or sooner. Young men, in conducting and handling affairs, embrace greater things than they are able to comprehend; they set more things in motion than they know how to compose again; they fly to the ends, the steps and the means not well weighed; they absurdly pursue certain precepts into which they have fallen by chance; they try extreme remedies from the very beginning; and finally—which doubles the errors—they refuse to acknowledge or revoke errors, like ill-broken horses who are willing neither to stop nor to turn. Old men put forward more than enough objections; they linger too long in consultations; they dread perils more than is expedient; with over-hasty repentance they vacillate; and they very rarely bring affairs to a just period, thinking it enough to enjoy a certain mediocrity of successes.
Lastly, it better checks external contingencies, because the old are potent by authority, the young by favor and popularity. But in moral matters youth will perhaps hold first place, as old age does in political matters. One of the rabbis, upon that text (“your youths shall see visions, and your elders shall dream dreams”), thus infers that God deigns to youths a nearer access to Himself than to elders, because a vision is a revelation clearer and more manifest than a dream.
And indeed, the more one drinks of the world, by so much the more he is infected with its toxin. Then old age makes progress rather in the faculties of intellect than in the virtues of the will and affections. There are those who in youth are very precocious, but as the years run they quickly wither and prove evanescent.
Such are as follows. First, those who have fragile wits, whose acuity is easily blunted, like Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books are most subtle, yet he himself shortly after turned out stupid. The second kind are those in whom there are certain natural faculties which are more becoming to youth than to old age, such as a flowing and luxurious oration, which is praised in a youth, not so in an old man.
Thus Cicero speaks of Hortensius: he remained the same, yet the same was not becoming. A third type is of those who are carried up too loftily and are endowed with magnanimity beyond what a more advanced age is able to bear, such as Scipio Africanus, about whom Livy thus proclaims: “the last things yielded to the first.”
41. [ = English 43] ON BEAUTY
1. Virtus, instar gemmae pretiosae, optima est sine ornamentis inserta. Atque profecto eadem praestat in corpore decoro, licet non delicato, quodque aspectus dignitatem potius prae se ferat quam pulchritudinem. Neque fere repieries eximie formosas virtutibus pollere, ac si natura in hoc magis incubuisset ut non turpiter erraret quam ut aliquid excellens produceret.
1. Virtue, in the likeness of a precious gem, is best when set without ornaments. And indeed the same is preferable in a decorous body, though not a delicate one, and that its aspect should carry dignity rather than beauty. Nor will you commonly find the exceedingly beautiful to abound in virtues, as though Nature had applied herself more to not erring shamefully than to producing something excellent.
Therefore they are apt for conversations, but they do not bear exalted spirits, and they strive rather for urbanity than for virtue. But this does not hold in all. For indeed Augustus Caesar, Titus Vespasianus, Philip IV “the Fair,” king of France, Edward IV, king of England, Alcibiades the Athenian, and Ismail the Persian were men altogether great and nonetheless very beautiful.
2. In pulchritudine praefertur venustas colori, et decorus ac gratiosus oris et corporis motus ipsi venustati. Ea praecipua pulchritudinis portio quam pictura repraesentare non potest, imo nec effigies ipsa viva primo aspectu. Non reperitur pulchritudo aliqua excellens cui non insit aliquid minus conforme in compagine.
2. In beauty, venusty is preferred to color, and a decorous and gracious motion of face and body to venusty itself. This is the chief portion of beauty which painting cannot represent, nay, not even the very living effigy at the first glance. No excellent beauty is found in which there is not something less conformable in the frame.
Not easily would anyone say whether Apelles or Albrecht Dürer was the greater trifler, of whom the one wished to fashion a man according to geometric proportions, the other, by selecting from several faces the best parts of each, strove to paint a single excellent one. Such effigies (believe it) will scarcely please anyone except the painter himself. Not that I do not think a more elegant face can be painted by a painter than ever existed among the living.
But this ought to come about from a certain felicity and chance (as with musicians in their own song), not, however, from the rules of art. One can see some faces whose individual parts, if subjected to examination, you will scarcely find even one that you approve separately, yet which in concert are quite pleasing. And if it is true that the principal beauty is situated in decorous motion, it is certainly no wonder if those more advanced in age sometimes seem to the younger more amiable.
According to that of Euripides, the autumn of the beautiful is beautiful. For indeed it cannot come to pass that a youth maintains grace in all things, unless perhaps you take youth itself as a supplement of comeliness. Beauty is in the likeness of garden-fruit, which is easily corrupted, nor does it last long, and it often induces youth to dissoluteness, but old age to late repentance.
42. [ = English 44] ON DEFORMITY
1. Deformes naturam fere ulciscuntur. Sicut enim natura minus illis propitia fuit, ita et illi naturae vicissim adversi, cum sint plerique ipsorum (ut loquitur Scriptura) sine affectione naturali. Est proculdubio consensus inter animam at corpus, atque natura ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero.
1. The deformed generally take revenge on nature. For just as nature was less propitious to them, so they in turn are adverse to nature, since most of them (as Scripture speaks) are without natural affection. There is, without doubt, a concord between soul and body, and where nature sins in the one, it is put in peril in the other.
But because in the fabric of the soul choice is granted to man, in the fabric of the body necessity is imposed. The stars of natural inclination are sometimes obscured by the sun of virtue and discipline. It will therefore have been consistent to speak about deformity, not as a sign which sometimes fails, but as a cause which very rarely is deprived of its effect.
Sed in the process of time, from an acquired habit, deformity again sharpens industry—industry of that kind—so that they sedulously scrutinize the defects and infirmities of others, whence they may have something to repay with. Moreover, in the more powerful it extinguishes suspicions and jealousy toward them, as toward men whom one may safely despise. But it lulls competitors and rivals to sleep, since they suspect nothing of their promotion to honors, until they see them themselves in possession of honors.
Nevertheless, they were placing trust in them rather as good pryers and whisperers than either as magistrates or public ministers. A similar rationale applies also to the deformed. The rule we set forth before holds: the deformed, if they be high‑spirited, will strenuously strive to free themselves from derision and ignominy, which cannot be effected except either through virtue or through malice.
43. [ = English 45] ON BUILDINGS
1. Aedes extruuntur ut in iis habitemus, non ut eas spectemus. Pulchritudini igitur praeponatur usus, nisi forte utrunque obtineri possit. Relinquamus fabricas aedium speciosas quae admirationem incutiunt palatiis poetarum incantatis, qui eas extruunt sumptu parvo.
1. Houses are constructed so that we may dwell in them, not so that we may gaze at them. Let utility, therefore, be set before beauty, unless perhaps both can be obtained. Let us leave the showy constructions of houses that inspire admiration to the poets’ enchanted palaces, who erect them at small expense.
He who builds an elegant house, but on a bad site, consigns himself to a prison. By a bad site I understand not only where the air is insalubrious, but also where the air is unequal, such as are houses which are built indeed on a little hillock slightly elevated but encircled on every side, after the manner of a theater, by higher hills, where the ardor of the sun is constricted, and the winds, as if in canals, reciprocate with various ebbings and flows. So much so that in a site of this kind you suddenly feel a diversity no less of heat and cold than if you were dwelling in diverse places.
Nor is a bad site made only by the depraved condition of the air, but also by the inconvenience of roads and approaches, a lack of fora for vendible wares, and (if you consult Momus) bad neighbors. Of many other things I do not speak, such as the absence of waters; a defect of woods, which supply both hearth and shade; barrenness of the soil, or because it is very little mixed from diverse kinds of clods; a constricted prospect; a lack of flat and level ground; a lack of places nearby that are suitable for huntings, fowlings, and courses of horses; the sea either too near or too far; no commodiousness of navigable rivers, or even their inconvenience on account of inundations; a site too remote from great cities, which is harmful to business, or even too near, which absorbs the necessaries of sustenance and makes everything dear; a place where one may possess broad estates or be able to acquire them, and, on the contrary, a place where one cannot spread his wings. We enumerate these several items in no way with the mind as if any house could be free from all these inconveniences, but rather so that we may avoid as many of them as it is granted to avoid.
And again, if anyone were to build several houses, let him so arrange the matter that the conveniences which are lacking in one are present in another. A neat reply of Lucullus to Pompey was this: when he had surveyed in Lucullus’s palace immense and luminous porticoes and chambers, he thus begins, “Doubtless, one lives here most excellently in summer; but how do you tolerate the winter?” To whom Lucullus: “What? do you suppose that I do not attain the prudence of birds, some of whom, as winter presses on, change their seats?”
2. Transeundum iam a situ domus ad domum ipsam. Imitabimur Ciceronem, qui libros conscripsit de Oratore et librum unicum qui inscribitur Orator, quorum priores praecepta artis tradunt, posterior perfectionem. Discribemus igitur palatium regium atque eiusdem modulum quendam conficiemus.
2. We must now pass from the site of the house to the house itself. We shall imitate Cicero, who composed books On the Orator and a single book entitled Orator, of which the former hand down the precepts of the art, the latter its perfection. Therefore we shall delineate the royal palace, and of the same we will also fashion a certain module (model).
3. Primum igitur statuo palatium perfectum neutiquam esse nisi duas habeat portiones diversas, portionem convivii, ut loquitur liber Hesteri, et portionem mansionis sive familiae, alteram ad pompas, magnificentias, et celebritates, alteram ad habititations usum. Intelligo portiones istas duas extrui debere non ut latera domus, sed ut frontis ipsius partes, easque exterius uniformas esse, licet interius longe diversas.
For truly it is a marvelous thing that such vast structures exist today in Europe, such as the Vatican and the Escurial and some others, in which, however, you will hardly find any chamber truly magnificent.
3. First, therefore, I lay down that a perfect palace is by no means complete unless it have two distinct portions, a portion of banquet, as the Book of Esther speaks, and a portion of dwelling or household—the one for pomps, magnificences, and celebrations, the other for the use of habitation. I understand that these two portions ought to be constructed not as the sides of the house, but as parts of the very front, and that they be outwardly uniform, though inwardly far different.
However, we wish these portions to be conjoined by a lofty and splendid tower in the middle of the front. And, as to the portion of banqueting, as the Book of Esther speaks, I would have only a single chamber placed there, and that high above the grade by at least fifty feet; and beneath that chamber another of similar length and breadth, which may conveniently receive the apparatus and preparation for feasts, games, and magnificences of that kind, and the actors also while they adorn and prepare themselves. The other portion, namely that of the dwelling, I would have divided chiefly into a hall and a chapel, both ample and beautiful.
Evidently I would not wish these to be extended through the entire length of the portion, but that at the end two upper chambers be left, the winter and the summer. And beneath all these (the chapel excepted) I wish spacious subterranean cellars to be placed, which may serve private kitchens, store-rooms, pantries, and the like. As for the tower, I wish it to be raised to two stories, each fifteen feet high, over the two wings of the front, covered with even lead, and adorned at the summit with statues upon the brackets of the sides.
I wish that same tower to be partitioned into diverse chambers. Moreover, the stairs of the tower are to be open, and turning back upon themselves, and, successively divided in sixes, bordered on both sides with wooden statues, gilded or at least of a bronze color, with a spacious and broad standing-place at the summit. But care must be taken that the place where the servants eat not be at the very bottom of the stairs or near: for if it is, the reek of foods will ascend as in a kind of tube.
4. Ultra frontem aedificii aream spatiosam designo cuius latera tria sint ipsa aedium fronte haud paulum humiliora, atque in quatuor angulis eiusdem areae turres extruantur, altitudinem laterum praedictorum nonnihil superantes, ad gradus quibus in superiora ascendatur capiendos.
And as to the front of the building, thus far. I only understand that the first steps of ascent ought to be raised to twenty feet, namely the height of the lower story.
4. Beyond the front of the building I designate a spacious area, the three sides of which should be not a little lower than the very front of the house; and in the four corners of the same area let towers be erected, somewhat exceeding the height of the aforesaid sides, to receive the steps by which one ascends to the upper parts.
Let those towers not be taken into the plane of the building, but project outward. But let the entire court by no means be underlaid with broad quadrangular stones; for pavements of this kind admit a troublesome heat in summer and likewise an aspersed chill in winter. But let it have walkways of such stones along the sides only of the building, which are to be clothed with grass, shorn indeed, but not too close to the ground.
Let spacious and splendid porticoes occupy the whole side of the area on the banquet side. In each of these porticoes let there be in the coffered ceilings three or five concave spheres (they call them cupolas), comely, set lengthwise at equal intervals. Let there also be windows of colored glass where columns, images of every kind, flowers, and the like are painted.
But let the side on the household’s part, together with the third side in the region of the front, comprise presence-chambers and others for ordinary use and decor, and, in turn, bedchambers. And let those three sides be so constructed as to present a duplex building, not through-lit, but fenestrated only on one side, so that both at matutinal and at vespertine times there are chambers available into which the sun does not enter.
But let them also be accommodated in such a way that there be there bedchambers and chambers both summer ones for cooling and winter ones for warding off the cold. You will not rarely find handsome houses, yet so filled with glass and windows that they scarcely supply a place where you may withdraw yourself either to the sun or to avoid the cold. As to windows projecting or recessed, I approve them as convenient things (in cities, to be sure, windows flush with the plane of the building and least protruding are more suitable, because of the uniformity of the structure toward the streets). For they are retreats suitable for conversations, and, moreover, they both catch the breeze and the sun.
5. Ultra hanc quam diximus aream, sit alia interior partis et amplitudinis et altudinis horto per exterius circumcincta, interius autem ambulacris pulchris, arcuatis usque ad primum tabulatum circundata.
For that which otherwise would have passed through the whole chamber will scarcely penetrate beyond the window. Yet let arched windows of this kind be rare, not beyond four, namely two on each side of the court.
5. Beyond this area which we have spoken of, let there be another inner one of dimension in length, breadth, and height, girded on the exterior by a garden, but on the interior surrounded by beautiful ambulatories, arched up to the first story.
But let the outer part of the lower solarium, facing the garden, in so far as along two sides, be converted into a specus or cavern (the moderns call it a grotto) for shade and estivating, open, or windowed only, on the garden side. And let that cavern be level with the ground, not wholly sunken, and be laid with an elegant pavement to exclude the vapors of the earth. Moreover, let there be erected in the middle of that court a splendid fountain, or some magnificent work of statues, and let the pavement be similar to that aforesaid court.
Let the buildings of this court be assigned on either side to chambers and more private conclaves, but the transverse side to porticoes yet more secluded. Care must indeed be taken that some portions, both from the chambers and conclaves and from the porticoes, be designated for the use of the infirm, if perchance the prince or one of the grandees should fall ill. And let the several portions destined for the sick (as the moderns speak) have an antechamber, a chamber for the bed, and a re-chamber.
Let these things, however, which we have said above be arranged on the second story. And let the transverse side of the lower story, turned toward the garden, be converted into a beautiful portico, open and supported by columns. Again, on the third story above, along all three sides, let elegant, columnar, and open porticoes be set up, to receive the prospect and the cool refreshment of the garden.
But at the two corners of the transverse side on the second solar let two splendid and delicate chambers be fitted and adorned (the moderns call them cabinets), with shining flooring, furnished with sumptuous hangings, windowed with crystalline glass, with an elegant cupola in the middle. Moreover, let those chambers be filled with curious things of every kind and worthy to behold. In the uppermost porticoes too (if it could be done) I would wish certain little fountains emitting water to be placed next to the walls in various places, which would then pass again through secret pipes.
But let the inner part on the upper solarium, facing the courtyard, be formed into porticoes and ambulatories, well secured and covered, for the use of convalescents. And thus far about the canopy of the palace itself. For I do not speak of baths and pools. It remains, however, that before you come to the front of the buildings, three courts be set: a green court, clothed with grass, with a wall all around, and next to the wall trees set in order; a second planted court of the same size, but in whose wall little turrets be erected, or something similar of that sort of elegance.
Likewise a third court, which together with the very front of the building would constitute a quadrangle, which I do not wish to be surrounded by any building, nor again enclosed by bare walls, but by ambulacra erected upon columns, not arches. At the top, indeed, let them be covered with lead or with quadrate stone, and along the sides secured with elegant small statues of aeneous (bronze-colored) hue, the whole being enclosed. As regards all the buildings that serve domestic uses, let those be removed to some distance from the palace itself, yet in such a way that lower and covered porticoes be interposed, within which one may pass to the palace.
64. [ = English 46] ON GARDENS
1. Deus ipse primus plantavit hortum. Atque revera inter solatia humana illud horti est purissimum. Etenim spritus hominum maxime reficit et oblectat.
1. God himself first planted a garden. And indeed, among human consolations, that of the garden is the purest. For it most greatly refreshes and delights the spirit of men.
2. Statuo in hortus regalibus assignari oportere hortos pro singulis anni mensibus, in quibus separatim plantae quae illo mense florent et vigent producantur.
Without which, edifices and palaces are only works of the hand, nor do they savor of nature. Nay even, you will note that ages, as they make progress in culture and magnificence, more quickly arrive at the beauty of buildings than at the elegance and amenity of gardens, as if that elegance of gardens were a more perfect thing.
2. I lay down that in royal gardens there ought to be assigned gardens for each month of the year, in which, separately, the plants which in that month flower and flourish may be displayed.
For December, January, and the end of November, plants must be chosen which are green through the whole winter, such as holly, ivy, laurel, juniper, cypress, yew, box, pine, fir, rosemary, lavender, periwinkle with white, purple, and blue flower, germander, iris as regards the leaves, oranges, lemons, and myrtle, if it be kept in hot-houses, and marjoram planted next to a wall and along the ground. Next, for the end of January and February, the shrub of the German chamaelea, or mezereon, which at that time flowers; the spring crocus with yellow and blue flower; primroses; anemones; early tulip; Oriental hyacinth; dwarf iris; fritillaria. For March, every kind of violet, especially the purple with a single flower, which are the very earliest; the yellow daffodil; daisies; the almond, which then flowers; the peach and the dogwood, which also then flower; fragrant bramble.
For April: the violet with a white double flower, the yellow wallflower, leucoium, the herb of paralysis, irises and lilies of every kind, the flowers of rosemary, the tulip, the peony with a double flower, the true narcissus, the Savoy honeysuckle, the cherry and the pear of diverse kinds in blossom, acanthus, which then puts forth its leaves, the lilac tree. For May and June: caryophyllus of all kinds, especially the virginal, every kind of roses, the musk-rose wholly excepted, which flowers later, the common honeysuckle, strawberries, bugloss, columbine, the African flower single and double, the cherry, which then bears fruit, currants, the fig in fruit, the berries of the Idaean bramble, the vine-blossoms, flowering lavender, the garden satyrion with a white flower, the muscary herb, lily of the valley, the apple in blossom, the blue cornflower. For July: caryophyllata of all kinds, the musk-rose, the linden in flower, pears and apples and early plums.
For August, plums of many kinds, pears, Armenian apples (apricots), berries of the hawthorn (oxyacantha), hazel-nuts, musk-melons, and delphinium of every color, or royal larkspur. For September, grapes, apples, poppy of various colors, Persian apples (peaches), melocotons, nectarines, cornels (cornel-cherries), winter pears, Cydonian quinces. For October and the beginning of November, sorb-apples (service-fruit), medlars, wild plums, late roses, tree-mallows with rose-colored flower, and the like.
3. Quoniam autem odor florum spirans in aere (ubi undulat more modulationis musicae)’ gratior multo est quam si eos decerpas manu, ideo nihil magis confert ad delectationem illam quae ex odore florum percipitur quam nosse eos flores et plantas quae adhuc crescentes, nec avulsae, maxime emittunt auras suaves et aerem odore perfundunt.
But indeed the plants which we have enumerated suit the London climate. But this I wish: that there be somewhere, as it were, a perpetual spring, as the condition of the place permits.
3. Since, however, the odor of flowers breathing into the air (where it undulates after the manner of musical modulation)’ is much more pleasing than if you pluck them by hand, therefore nothing contributes more to that delight which is perceived from the odor of flowers than to know those flowers and plants which, while still growing and not plucked, most send forth sweet breezes and suffuse the air with scent.
Roses, as well pale as red, while they are growing are tenacious of their own odor, nor do they tinge the air. So much so that, walking next to their hedge, you will perceive no scent, even if you try this at the time of the morning dew. Laurel likewise, while it grows, emits little odor, nor do rosemary or marjoram.
That which before all others, as it grows, imbues the air with a most sweet odor is the violet, especially the white, with a double blossom, which flowers twice each year, in mid-April and toward the end of August. Next to it comes the musk-rose. Then the leaves of the withering strawberry, which emit a breath plainly cordial.
Then the blossoms of the vine which appear in racemes newly thrust out, in the likeness of powder, such as is on the stalk of plantain. Then the fragrant bramble. Then the yellow wallflower, which gives out a most pleasing scent when sown next to the windows of a parlor or of a bedchamber situated on the ground floor.
4. Horti contentum (loquor autem de hortis regiis, sicut feci de aedificiis) haud minus triginta iugerum esse debet, atque illud in tres partes dividi convenit: graminetum in introitu, fruticetum sive eremum in exitu, et hortum praecipuum in medio, praeter ambulacra utrinque ad latera. Mihi quidem placet quatuor iugera gramineto assignari fruticeto, bis quatuor ad ambulacra ad latera, et horto praecipuo duodecim.
Therefore the walks are to be planted solidly with these, so that by treading you press out their odor.
4. The content/compass of the garden (I speak, moreover, of royal gardens, just as I did of edifices) ought to be not less than 30 iugera, and it is fitting that it be divided into three parts: a lawn at the entrance, a shrubbery or wilderness at the exit, and the principal garden in the middle, besides the walks on either side at the flanks. For my part, it pleases me that four iugera be assigned to the lawn, four to the shrubbery, twice four to the walks at the sides, and twelve to the principal garden.
There is a double delectation from the grass-plot: first indeed for the eyes, to which nothing is more pleasant than grass continually shorn and green, the other because in the middle a track is to be cleared by which one may go toward the frontispiece of the magnificent hedge which encloses the principal garden. But since that track will be long, and in the great heats of the year or of the day shade is not to be purchased for the gardens by a walk across the grass-plot with the sun beating down, therefore covered walks, twelve feet high, of woodwork, are to be built on both sides at the flanks of the grass-plot, through which you may enter the garden in continuous shade. As for the patterns and figures, marked out with earth of various colors, which lie beneath the windows of the building, they are sheer trifles.
But let the spaces between the columns be of the same dimension as the width of the arch. Above the arches a continuous fence, four feet high, is made likewise of woodwork, and above this let there be a little turret built on the summit of each arch, whose interior capacity may suffice for accommodating a cage for little birds. And above the interstices of the arches let there be placed some other gilded figures containing lamellae of colored glass, with which the sun’s rays may play in various ways.
This hedge, moreover, I understand is to be erected upon an embankment, not precipitous indeed but moderately sloping, six feet high, entirely planted with flowers. I also understand that this square of the garden should not occupy the whole breadth of the soil, but should leave on both sides enough space for the making of various ambulatories, into which those covered ambulatories of the lawn, of which we have spoken, shall lead down. But at the entrance and exit of the garden, ambulatories of this kind with hedges are altogether to be omitted.
5. Dispositionem soli intra claustrum sepis variandam ad placitum relinquo, hoc interim monens, ut quaecunque ea tandem sit, nimis curiosa et operosa ne sit. Imagines excisas ex iunipero vel alia materia hortensi non probo, puerelia sunt ista.
At the entrance, indeed, lest the view of that charming hedge be impeded by the lawn; at the exit, however, lest the prospect of the shrubbery be intercepted through the arches.
5. I leave the disposition of the soil within the enclosure of the hedge to be varied at pleasure, meanwhile noting this: whatever it finally is, let it not be too over‑elaborate and laborious. I do not approve figures cut from juniper or other horticultural material; such things are puerile.
Walkways narrower and more covered ought to be moved off to the sides, and by no means placed in the pomerium of the principal garden. I would also advise that in the middle of the garden there be a handsome little mound with three orders of ascent and three walkways of such breadth that four can walk together. And moreover I recommend that these walkways be perfectly circular, without the figures of bastions.
6. Fontes quod attinet, magno sunt illi ornamento et refrigero. Sed stagna et piscinae exulent.
But let the altitude of the little mound be thirty feet, and on the summit let an elegant little dwelling be erected, with chimneys gracefully ordered and without much glass.
6. As for fountains, they are a great ornament and a cooling refreshment. But let ponds and pools be banished.
For they render the garden insalubrious and teeming with flies, frogs, and the like. I understand fountains of two kinds: one that turns and disperses leaping water with its basins; the other a shining receptacle of pure water, a square of thirty or forty feet, slime-free, without mud or fish. As to the first, gilded yet marble images—such as are in use—can rightly serve as an ornament.
But in that kind the hinge of the matter is so to govern the water that it flow perpetually, and not stand either in the bowl or in the cistern, so that when at rest it be not discolored, turned either green or red or the like, nor gather moss or putridity. It also must be cleansed by hand daily, that it may remain limpid. Likewise some steps of ascent to the fountain, and an elegant pavement around it, are for ornament.
That other kind of fountain, which can be called a bath or lavacrum, can receive much ornament and curiosity, upon which we do not dwell. For example, that the bottom be adorned with images, and the sides as well, likewise here and there with glass of various colors, and shining with polished and radiant bodies of this sort, also surrounded with an enclosure of low statues. But the greatest point is that which we made mention of in the former kind of fountains.
Assuredly, that the water be in perpetual motion. The water, namely, which, being higher than the bath, is supplied, brought in through graceful channels, and again, through pipes of equal dimension beneath the ground, drawn off, lest the water stand too long. But as for the curious inventions of arching the waters without their effusion, and of shaping them into various forms (plumes, glass goblets, canopies, bells, and the like), also artificial rocks and suchlike.
7. Fruticetum autem, quod tertiam totius horti partem posuimus, velim ut ad similitudinem naturalis deserti prope accedat. Arbores in illo plantari nolo, nisi quod in aliquibus locis erigi praecipio arborum series quae in vertice ambulacra contineant, ramis arborum cooperta, cum fenestris.
Those things indeed are pleasant to look upon, but contribute nothing to healthfulness or pleasantness.
7. As for the shrubbery, which we have set as a third part of the whole garden, I would have it come close to the likeness of a natural wilderness. I do not wish trees to be planted in it, except that in some places I direct that a series of trees be erected which, at the top, shall contain ambulatories, covered with the branches of the trees, with windows.
But I wish the ground everywhere to be planted with violets, strawberries especially, and the primrose of spring. For these plants exhale a pleasant odor and thrive happily in the shade. As for the thickets and the ambulatories upon the arbors, we desire them to be scattered at pleasure, not placed in any order.
I also approve little mounds, after the manner of those which moles raise (such as are wont to be in level heaths), some planted with serpyllum (wild thyme), others with lesser caryophylli (gillyflowers), others with chamaedrys, which offers a beautiful flower, others with pervinca (periwinkle), others with violets, others with strawberries, others with the flowers called paralysis, others with bellides (daisies), others with red roses, others with lilies of the valley, others with red armerias (thrift), others with hellebore of purple flower, and planted with similar flowers that are sweet and fair. A part also of the mounds has shrubs on the summit. Let these be rose, juniper, aquilegia (columbine), oxyacantha (but this more rarely, because of the heaviness of its odor while it blooms), ribes with red berries (red currant), uva crispa (gooseberry), rosemary, laurel, the fragrant bramble (Rubus odoratus), and others of that kind.
8. Iam solum utrinque ad latera in ambulacra privata, pro quavis diei parte umbrosas, distribuendum est. Ex iis etiam quaedam a ventis asperioribus ita munienda sunt ut in iis spatiare possit quis tanquam in porticu.
Shrubs, moreover, are to be cut back with iron so that they do not grow out misshapen.
8. Now the ground on both flanks is to be apportioned into private ambulatories, shady for any part of the day. Of these also certain are to be so fortified against harsher winds that one may promenade in them as if in a portico.
Moreover, for the same cause, namely that the winds be warded off, the exits are to be closed. And these closed walkways are especially to be underlaid with sand, without grass, lest the walking be on wet ground. In most of these walkways fruit-bearing trees of every kind are to be placed, both along the outer walls and in rows within.
9. Rursus, quoad hortum praecipuum, non negarem in eo confici debere ambulacra quaedam, eaque minime angusta, arboribus fructiferis utrinque consita.
And in this kind it must be observed that the raised ground in which fruit-bearing trees are planted be broad, low, and gently ascending, and set with sweet flowers but sparsely, lest they defraud the trees of sap. At the exits of the lateral ground on both sides I approve that little mounds be made, to such a height relative to the exterior wall that, standing on the mound, a prospect over the fields may lie open.
9. Again, as regards the principal garden, I would not deny that certain walks ought to be constructed in it, and these by no means narrow, planted on both sides with fruit-bearing trees.
Moreover, let him also arrange some groves, of fruit-bearing trees planted nearby, and artificial and beautiful shelters with seats in elegant order, yet by no means too crowded. For the principal garden must be left more open, and stable in the air and free. For I would have you seek shade in the lateral walks, where, in the heats of the year or of the day, you may walk.
10. Aviara non probo, nisi tantae sint amplitudinis ut cespites graminei substerni queant.
The principal garden, indeed, is arranged for the more temperate parts of the year, the vernal and the autumnal. In summer, however, for the matutinal and vespertine times, or even for cloudy days.
10. I do not approve of aviaries, unless they are of such spaciousness that grassy sods can be laid beneath.
11. Quantum vero ad ambulacra in clivis et variis ascensibus amoenis conficienda, illa naturae dona sunt, nec ubique extrui possunt. Nos autem ea posuimus quae omni loco conveniunt.
Let it also be planted with fruits and with living saplings, so that the birds may fly more freely and be able to amuse and dispose themselves in different places, and so that no filth be seen in the area of the aviary.
11. As to ambulatories to be made on slopes and in various pleasant ascents, those are gifts of nature, nor can they be constructed everywhere. We, however, have set down those things which are suitable to every place.
12. Horti itaque regii figuram iam delineavimus, partim praeceptis, partim modulo generali, sed minime accurato. Et hac in re sumptibus minime pepercimus. Sed ad principes id nihil est, qui, ut nunc sit, plerunque hortulanos consulunt, atque haud minore sumptu varia parum cum iudicio componunt, addentes etiam quandoque statuas et alia ad magnificentiam et pompam, sed ad genuinam hortorum voluptatem et amoenitatem nihil conducentia.
12. Thus we have already delineated the figure of the royal gardens, partly by precepts, partly by a general model, but by no means accurate. And in this matter we have by no means spared expenses. But to princes that is nothing, who, as things now stand, for the most part consult gardeners, and with no less expense compose various things with little judgment, adding also sometimes statues and other items for magnificence and pomp, but conducing nothing to the genuine pleasure and amenity of gardens.
45. [ = English XLVII] ON TRADE
1. Generaliter melius est per verba negotiari quam per literas, et per intercessionem personae tertiae quam per seipsum. Literae utiles sunt cum quis per literas itidem responsum elicere desiderat, vel ubi sua intersit exemplaria literarum quas scripsit producere et monstrare. Denique, ubi metuere quis merito possit ne sermo interrumpatur aut per portiones audiatur.
1. Generally it is better to negotiate through words than through letters, and through the intercession of a third person than by oneself. Letters are useful when someone likewise desires to elicit a response by letters, or where it is to his interest to produce and show exemplars of the letters which he wrote. Finally, where someone could with good reason fear lest the discourse be interrupted or be heard in portions.
On the contrary, to treat viva voce is preferable, when the face of a man is likely to strike in reverence, as very often happens in a colloquy with an inferior or in matters which it is fitting to touch only with the finger-tips, in which the eye of the speaker, intent upon the countenance and gesture of the other, can warn how far it is permitted to proceed; and generally when one wishes to retain for himself the liberty either of speaking or of interpreting the things he has said. In treating through others it will be safer and better to choose those who are of a simpler ingenium, whom it is probable will execute the things they have in their mandates and will faithfully narrate the success of the matter, rather than those who are crafty to transfer from others’ business something of honor or of utility to themselves, and who will soften what they report with words so that they may please exceedingly. Also employ such as favor the business to which they are set over; for that sharpens industry.
And moreover such as have a certain congruity with the matter they are handling—for instance, audacious men for expostulating, bland for persuading, astute for observing and prying, insolent and somewhat more outrageous for bringing to a conclusion matters that have something unfair in them. Also employ those who have previously been successful in handling your affairs and have prevailed. For this breeds confidence, and they will leave no stone unturned in order thereby to defend, as it were, the precedent.
It would be better to degust lightly, and as it were from a distance, the man with whom you negotiate at first, than to propose the sum of the matter from the beginning, unless perhaps you have in mind shortly to ensnare and oppress him with some little question. It is preferable to negotiate with those who are in ambition, than with those who have attained their desiderata. If you negotiate with another under a condition, the first, as it were, occupation or possession of the wishes is to be counted among the chief points.
But you cannot with reason demand that, unless either the nature of the matter is such as ought to precede, or you can conveniently insinuate to the other that he will make use of your services in other things, or finally you yourself are held as a man above all of integrity and veracity. Every negotiation looks either to disclose something or to effect it. Men disclose themselves either by communicating their mind, or when they are moved with anger and cannot well restrain themselves, or when they are overborne unawares, or when they are driven by a certain necessity, not having anything to allege as a pretext.
If you should desire to fashion someone to your beck so that from it you may accomplish something, either his inclinations and morals are to be well known so that you may lead him by the hand, or his ends are to be clearly seen so that you may persuade, or his infirmities and the things to which he is obnoxious are to be explored so that you may terrify, or finally his friends, who prevail most with him, are to be conciliated so that in that way you may be able to rule him. In dealing with the crafty and the dolose, their words are by no means to be believed, unless you have their ends and intentions as interpreters of the words. Indeed, it will be best to speak little in their presence, and those things which they least expect.
46. [ = English 48] ON CLIENTS, SERVANTS, AND FRIENDS
1. Clientes sumptuosi minime admittendi, ne dum quis caudae pennas adauget alarum pennas praescindat. Eos autem sumptuosos intelligo non solum qui impensis gravant, sed etiam qui petitionibus molesti et importuni sunt. Clientes communes conditiones alias expectare non debent extra favorem, commendationem, si opus sit, et ab iniuria protectionem.
1. Sumptuous clients are by no means to be admitted, lest while one adds feathers to the tail he cut off the feathers of the wings. By “sumptuous” I understand not only those who burden with expenses, but also those who are troublesome and importunate with petitions. Ordinary clients ought not to expect other conditions beyond favor, recommendation, if there is need, and protection from injury.
But factious clients and friends are even more to be avoided, who attach themselves to someone not so much out of love for the very person whom they serve as from hatred conceived toward another, whence very often there follows that alienation of minds which is seen among the more powerful. Likewise, those vainglorious clients who make it their business to be, in place of trumpets, to resound the praises of those whom they serve, do no small harm. For they corrupt affairs by their own futility.
Then indeed they export the honor of their lord (if anyone truly reckon the matter) and import the merchandise of envy. There is also another kind of client entirely perilous, who are nothing else than speculators—spies—prying into the secrets of the household and then whispering them into the ears of others. Yet men of this sort are very often held at the highest price by their masters, since they are officious and, as it were, traffic in whispers.
The clientage of men of some order, if they be of the same order as the patron—like soldiers toward one who has borne a prefecture in wars, and the like—has always been held as something decorous and taken in good part, even in monarchies, provided only that excessive pomp and popularity-seeking be absent. But the most honorable clientage of all is this: that one profess oneself the patron of those who are illustrious for virtue and merits, of whatever order or condition they may be. However, where no notable dissimilarity is discerned in merits, it is better to champion the mediocre rather than the more eminent.
And moreover, if the truth is to be spoken entirely, in ages somewhat more corrupt industrious and sedulous men are of more use than those endowed with true virtue. Certainly, in commanding it is best to treat subjects of the same grade with equal comity. For to pursue a few with immense favor will make those men themselves the more insolent, and will render the rest ill-disposed.
Nor should anyone rightly complain about this, since all things proceed from grace, not from debt. It is rightly guarded against that at the outset you do not pursue someone with favor too immoderately. For the things which will follow in the tract of time can scarcely correspond to those beginnings.
To be fashioned (as they say) and to be ruled by some friend is not safe. For it betrays a certain softness of mind, and then indeed it affords an occasion for revilings and for scandal. For many who would not have lashed us ourselves directly will not hesitate to subject that friend of ours to contumely, and in that way they will wound our honor.
67. [ = English 49] ON SUPPLICATIONS
1. Suscipiuntur complura negotia et inventa mala, et petitiones privatae bonum corrumpunt publicum. Suscipiuntur etiam complura negotia in se bona, sed animo bono. Intelligo non solum corrupto sed etiam callido, absque ulla perficiendi negotii intentione.
1. Many undertakings are taken up and evil inventions, and private petitions corrupt the public good. Many undertakings also are taken up which are in themselves good, but not with a good spirit. I mean, not only with a corrupt but even with a crafty one, without any intention of perfecting the undertaking.
There is no lack of those who take petitions into their own hands and avidly promise their service, yet it is no concern to them that they should proceed with effect. But if they notice that a matter will succeed by another’s effort, they too will angle for favor, or at least will snatch at some secondary emolument, or finally, while the business is being turned, they will convert the suppliant’s hopes to their own use. Others embrace petitions with the sole intention of throwing impediments into other men’s affairs that are being handled at the same time, or in order to report something incidentally and inform against someone—something for which otherwise they could not have prepared a suitable pretext—being in no way solicitous about the petition itself, since in this way they have provided for themselves; or, more generally, so that through other men’s business they may lay a bridge for their own.
2. Certe si quis rem rite perpendat, comitatur omnem petitionem ius quoddam, vel aequitatis, si sit petitio iustitiae, vel meriti, si sit petitio gratiae. Si quem moveat inclinatio propria ut parti iniquiori faveat in caussa iudiciali utatur potius auctoritate sua ut rem componat quam ut obtineat.
Nay rather, even others act so in bad faith that they undertake petitions with the deliberate plan of abandoning them, in order to gratify a competitor or an adversary.
2. Certainly, if anyone properly weighs the matter, a certain right accompanies every petition, either of equity, if it be a petition of justice, or of merit, if it be a petition of favor. If one’s own inclination moves someone to favor the more iniquitous party in a judicial cause, let him rather use his authority to compose the matter than to secure it.
If anyone is moved by his own inclination so as, in a cause of grace, to impart his favor to the less deserving, let him at least abstain from all calumny and malediction against the better deserving. The petitions which you yourself do not sufficiently understand, entrust to some faithful and sagacious friend, who may report whether they are of such a kind as you can promote with your honor intact. But that friend must be chosen with prudent and anxious judgment; otherwise he will impose anything upon you.
Supplicants in these times are so tormented by delay and procrastinations that veracity and candor—whether in at first refusing the business, or in reporting with a simple mind whatever sort of success it had, or in courting favor not beyond what is fitting—has become a thing not only laudable, but even gracious. In petitions for favor, the first oblation of the petition ought to be of no moment.
So far may the supplicant’s good faith avail in making that matter patent that, if knowledge of it could not have been had from any source other than through him, this be not to his prejudice, but rather be remunerated. To be ignorant of the value of what is petitioned is a kind of inexpertness, just as to pass by its equity negligently argues a bad conscience. To conceal petitions diligently is of no small profit toward obtaining them.
For to bandy about the hopes of competitors, though it may be able to deter some, will nevertheless whet and rouse others. But the opportunities of the times prevail above all in petitions. I say the times, not only with respect to those in whose power it lies either to reject or to concede petitions, but even with respect to those by whom it is justly to be feared lest they set themselves against them.
In the choice of him to whom you entrust the care of your petition, look more to aptitude than to amplitude, and rather employ him who involves himself in fewer affairs than him who embraces everything. The iteration of a denied petition is sometimes equipollent to the concession itself, provided one shows oneself neither dejected in spirit nor ill-disposed. The rule is not bad—ask for what is iniquitous so that you may carry off what is equitable—where one flourishes in favor.
Otherwise indeed it would be more prudent to ascend by certain steps to that which you seek, and to obtain at least something. For he who at the beginning would not have hesitated to admit the zeal of the suppliant toward himself, at the end will not endure to lose at once both the suppliant’s zeal and the favor previously conferred. Nothing seems so light as to trouble very powerful men with one’s letters; yet, if those letters flutter in causes less honorable and just, that much perishes from the writer’s estimation.
48. [ = English L] ON STUDIES AND THE READING OF BOOKS
1. Studia et lectiones librorum aut meditationum voluptati, aut orationis ornamento, aut negotiorum subsidio inserviunt. Usus eorum, quatenus ad voluptatem, in secessu et otio imprimis percipitur. Quatenus ad orationis ornamenta, in sermone tam familiari quam solenni locum habet.
1. Studies and readings of books or of meditations serve either for pleasure, or for the ornament of oration, or as a support to affairs. Their use, insofar as it is for pleasure, is perceived especially in seclusion and leisure. Insofar as it is for the ornaments of oration, it has its place in discourse both familiar and solemn.
Insofar, however, as regards the aid of affairs, it looks to this: that with more accurate judgment matters both be undertaken and be arranged. For men skilled in the conduct of things are perhaps fit for executing business, and in particulars they employ no bad judgment. But counsels about the highest matters, and their invention and right administration, more happily emanate from the learned.
To spend too much time in reading and studies is a kind of specious sloth; to abuse the same for ornament, in a softer vein, is a mere affectation that betrays itself. But to judge matters by the rules of art savors wholly of the school, nor does it succeed well. Letters perfect nature, but they themselves are perfected by experience.
For natural endowments are like plants that spring up of their own accord, which desire cultivation and the sickle of art. Letters, on the contrary, prescribe things too general unless they are determined by experience. The clever disdain letters, the simple admire them, the prudent use their work, so far as is fitting.
Nor indeed do letters sufficiently teach the true use of themselves. But this matter is a certain prudence, set outside them and above them, acquired only by observation. Do not read books with a mind of contradicting and of contending in the battles of disputations, nor again of receiving everything as granted or of swearing by the author’s words, nor, finally, of hawking yourself in conversations; but so that you may learn further, weigh things, and use your own judgment to some extent.
That is, certain books are to be inspected only in parts; others indeed to be read through, but not much time is to be spent in going through the same; others, however—though few—are to be diligently gone through, with singular attention applied. You will also find not a few books which it suffices to have read by others and by vicarious labor, and to take only their compendia. But I would not wish this to be done except in humbler topics and with authors of lesser worth.
For otherwise books “distilled” (so to speak), like distilled waters which people commonly purchase, will be utterly insipid. Reading makes one copious and well-instructed; disputations and colloquies make one prompt and facile; but writing and the collection of notes imprint what has been read through upon the mind and fix it more deeply. Therefore, if anyone is slothful or fastidious in note-taking, he will have need of a good memory.
If he does not exercise himself in colloquies, a prompt wit is required of him. But if he be sparing in reading, this alone remains: that he use some artifice whereby he may seem to know the things he does not know. The reading of histories makes men prudent; of poets, ingenious; the mathematical arts bestow subtlety; natural philosophy begets profound judgment; moral philosophy conciliates a certain gravity of manners; dialectic and rhetoric make one pugnacious and eager for contentions. Studies (as that man says) pass into manners.
Indeed, scarcely does any impediment innate or natural occur in the intellect which cannot be amended and polished by some appropriate study, just as diseases of the body can be alleviated by certain proper exercises. The play of little balls is healthful for gravel and the kidneys, archery for the lungs and chest; gentle walking for the stomach; horse-riding for the head, and the like. In the same way, if anyone has a wandering and winged wit, let him apply himself to mathematics.
If anyone be sluggish for the rapid coursings of the wit, and know not deftly how to summon and to seize other things for the probation and illustration of other things, let him unroll the cases of the jurisconsults. So much so that the several diseases of the intellect may procure for themselves from letters their proper medicines.
1. Plurimi opinionem minime sanam foverunt, hanc nimirum, principi in status sui administratione, et viro magno in actionum suarum directionem, ad factiones quae invaluerunt praecipue respiciendum, atque hanc principalem prudentiae partem esse, cum contra facultas haec prudentiae quam maxime vigeat vel in disponendis rebus quae ad omnes sine discrimine pertinent, et in quibus homines diversarum factionum coeunt, vel in palpandis, conciliandis, et tractandis singulis. Neque tamen assero factionum debitam considerationem esse negligendam. Humilioris fortunae viri qui in ambitu sint alicui parti adhaerere debent.
1. Very many have fostered a far from sound opinion, namely this: that a prince, in the administration of his state, and a great man, in the direction of his actions, ought chiefly to have regard to the factions that have grown strong, and that this is the principal part of prudence; whereas on the contrary this faculty of prudence flourishes most either in disposing matters which pertain to all without distinction, and in which men of diverse factions come together, or in sounding out, conciliating, and handling individuals. Nor, however, do I assert that the due consideration of factions is to be neglected. Men of humbler fortune who are engaged in canvassing ought to adhere to some party.
But for the more powerful, and for those who have long since obtained honor, it is more advisable to show themselves equitable, inclining to neither side. Nay, even those who are canvassing should adhere so cautiously that one seems addicted to one of the parties, and yet is by no means odious to the opposing party, paving a certain way to honors through the midst of the factions. The lower and weaker faction, in conjunction, is for the most part firmer and more constant.
And not rarely it may be observed that a few who are obstinate and pertinacious can in the end weary and drive off a more numerous yet nevertheless moderate faction. After one of the factions has been extinguished, the one that remains is burst apart into new factions. For example, the faction of Lucullus and the Optimates for some time sustained itself in quite great vigor against the faction of Pompey and Caesar; but after the authority of the Senate and the Optimates was being pressed down, the faction of Caesar and Pompey itself was soon split into parts.
Similarly, the faction of Antony and Octavian Caesar against Brutus and Cassius lasted for some time, but with the forces of Brutus and Cassius destroyed, Antony and Octavian, with their parties, shortly after split apart. These examples (you will say) pertain to bellicose factions, but it holds also in private factions. And thus in factions, those who previously held the second rank more often hold the first within the faction itself.
On the contrary, however, not rarely they fall out of all power. For many are strong only in opposition; when that ceases, forthwith they become useless. Worthy of observation, which often happens, is this: that very many, after they have obtained their wish and been placed in the dignity which they ambited, straightway apply themselves to the contrary faction, supposing perhaps that they are by now assured of the affection and studies of the one party, and thus prepare themselves to conciliate new friends.
The traitor in factions for the most part carries the day. For after matters have for a longer time, as if on a balance, stuck suspended, then at last the transition of some one person into one party brings victory, and upon him all favors are heaped. That indifferent process between the parties, inclining to neither, does not always proceed from a moderated mind, but from a shrewd counsel, since each man is nearest to himself, and hopes to reap utility from either faction.
Certainly in Italy the Pope falls under suspicion, about whom that phrase flies among the common people, “common father.” Then too it is drawn as a sign that that Pope has in mind to refer everything to the aggrandizement of his own family. Kings especially must beware lest they expressly join themselves to any faction of their subjects.
For leagues of confederation within any state are always deadly to monarchies. For indeed they introduce an obligation more potent than the obligation of the empire itself, and they constitute the king as if one of us—something that could be seen in the League of France. When factions contend with a strong hand and openly, it is a sign of the empire in kings tottering, and it greatly prejudices both their authority and their affairs. The motions of factions under kings ought to be like the motions (as astronomers speak) of the lower orbs, which have their own proper motions, but meanwhile are carried round in obedience by the revolution of the primum mobile.
50. [ = English 51] ON CIVIL CEREMONIES AND DECORUM
1. Qui realis solummodo est, ei multa virtute opus duco, sicut gemma quae sine ornamento omni inseritur e purissimis et nitidissimis esse debet. Verum si quis diligenter animadvertat sit in laude quod sit in lucro, obtinet enim proverbium illud, lucra levia crumenam efficere gravem. Siquidem lucra levia frequenter redeunt, cum maiora rarius se offerant.
1. He who is merely real, I judge has need of much virtue, like a gem which, being set without any ornament, must be of the purest and most shining. But if anyone carefully notes, let there be in praise what there is in profit; for that proverb obtains, that light gains make the purse heavy. Since slight gains return frequently, whereas greater ones offer themselves more rarely.
Likewise it is most true that exiguous virtues conciliate great lauds, because their use is perpetual. Then they fall under the observation of men, whereas, on the contrary, it very rarely befalls that there is occasion to exercise some great virtue. And so, for fame and for a person’s estimation, it helps much and (as Isabella the Castilian queen used to say) it may serve after the manner of letters commendatory, which are never not ready to hand, if one will employ forms that are discreet and decorous.
Who will be able to comprehend great things who submits himself to such very petty matters? To abstain altogether from becoming courtesies toward others is just as if you were teaching them to neglect the same toward you, whereby you will make yourself the cheaper. Especially are they by no means to be omitted toward those with whom you are least joined by familiarity, nor toward men of a fastidious disposition.
But excesses in those things and a plainly hyperbolical locution (such as some use) are not only a troublesome matter, but altogether diminish the credibility and weight of the things that are said. There is, without doubt, a mode of a certain artful insinuation in the very words, amid common formulas, which truly baits men and wondrously affects them—a thing that profits someone exceedingly, if one is versed in its way. Among equals there is no need to be solicitous about familiarity; therefore, restrain yourself a little and safeguard your dignity.
To apply oneself to others is good, provided that this be done with some signification that it proceeds not from mere facility, but from comity and urbanity. A precept not to be contemned is, when you have gone over into another’s opinion, always to add something of your own. For example, do you give your suffrage to his opinion?
For if this is done, however much you may stand out in true virtue, you will nevertheless hear from the envious, to the detriment of your name, that you are only urbane and an affectator. It is also damaging to business, if someone too much affects formulas, or is intensely curious in selecting opportunities and times. Solomon says: he who observes the wind does not sow, and he who considers the clouds will never reap.
51. [ = English 53] ON PRAISE
1. Laus virtutis reflexio est, atque, ut fit in speculis, trahit aliquid e natura corporis quod reflexionem praebet. Si a vulgo proficiscentur, ut plurimum, reflexio illa prava est et falsa, et vanos potius ac tumidos quam vera virtute praeditos comitatur. Sub captum siquidem vulgi, virtutes complures quae excellunt non cadunt.
1. Praise is a reflection of virtue, and, as happens in mirrors, it draws something from the nature of the body that provides the reflection. If it proceeds from the crowd, for the most part that reflection is crooked and false, and it attends rather the vain and the puffed up than those endowed with true virtue. For indeed, within the grasp of the crowd, many virtues that excel do not fall.
They extort from them the lesser virtues; the middle ones infuse in them a certain admiration or stupefaction, but the sublime do not at all come into their sense or perception. But apparitions of virtue and forms similar to virtues affect them most of all. Truly, fame is like a river, which lifts up the light and the inflated, and sinks the weighty and the solid.
If the flatterer be more crafty, he will press the footsteps of the principal flatterer—I mean yourself—and in those things in which you please yourself or think yourself to excel, to those the flatterer will inhere most of all. But if the flatterer be impudent and of a well‑rubbed forehead, then indeed, in those points of which you are conscious to yourself of your deficiency, and at which you blush most, those the flatterer will even especially impute to you and affix by force, conscience being spurned. Some praises proceed from good will conjoined with reverence.
Which indeed formula of praises is owed to princes and to men of whatever higher dignity: to prescribe by praising. When namely, in their presence proclaiming what they are like, you humbly admonish what they ought to be like. There are those who are sometimes burdened with praises by a malicious mind for the kindling of envy and the stirring up of hatreds—the worst kind of enemies, the praisers, as that man says.
To such a degree that among the Greeks it has passed into a proverb, that for him who is praised to his harm a pustule from the sea will straightway swim up to him; just as among us it is commonly said, when someone lies, one must fear lest scabies of his tongue should soon arise. This may be asserted: praises that are moderate, bestowed in due season, and in no way commonplace are most especially for honor. It has been said by Solomon: he who blesses his neighbor with a loud voice, rising in the night, will be like one uttering malediction.
For indeed, to elevate either a man or any matter up to heaven provokes contradiction and exposes to derision. Nevertheless, just as to praise oneself, decorum being preserved, is scarcely conceded save in very rare cases, so one may, with leave, praise his own vocation and the office which he bears, or the studies to which he has devoted himself—nay, with a certain guise of magnanimity. The Roman Cardinals (who are theologians, and brethren, and scholastics) employ a word of extreme contempt and invective toward civil affairs.
for they call civil affairs (as of war, of legations, of judgments, and the like) by the Spanish vocable “sbirrarias,” which sounds the duties of lictors and scribes, and they say that those aforementioned arts would more befit men of that sort than those placed on the height of the cardinalate. And yet (if the matter were duly weighed) the speculative with the civil are not ill mingled. Saint Paul, when he glories about himself, sometimes inserts this: as a fool I speak.
52. [= English LIV] ON VAIN GLORY
1. Eleganter quidem Aesopus, musca sedens super radium rotae currus ita secum: "quantum pulverum moveo!" Similiter existunt quidam futiles et vani qui, cum aliquid vel sponte procedit vel manu potentiore cietur, si modo ipsi vel minimam rei partem attigerint, continuo putant se machinam totam vertere. Gloriosi semper factiosi. Etenim nulla ostentatio sine comparatione sui est.
1. Elegantly indeed Aesop, a fly sitting upon the spoke of the wheel of a chariot, thus to itself: "How much dust I move!" Similarly there exist certain futile and vain people who, when something either proceeds of its own accord or is set in motion by a more powerful hand, if only they themselves have touched even the least part of the matter, immediately think they are turning the whole machine. The vainglorious are always factious. For indeed no ostentation is without a comparison of oneself.
Nay rather, it is necessary that they be violent as well, so that they may make good in reality the things they have vaunted in words. Nor can they be entirely taciturn, and therefore in deed they are for the most part found wanting—thus it has passed into a proverb among the Gauls, beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit, much noise, little fruit. Nevertheless, without controversy, such dispositions can sometimes be employed to advantage in civil affairs.
If reputation must be stirred up or opinion widely spread, whether of virtue or of power, men of this sort are outstanding trumpeters. Again, as Livy prudently notes about the negotiations of Antiochus and the Aetolians, reciprocal lies and from both sides can sometimes be of great use. For example, when someone negotiates between two princes in order to incite them to declare war on a third prince, and, so as to effect this, he by turns extols the forces of the one before the other beyond measure and beyond truth.
Indeed this too sometimes happens: that one who conducts dealings among private individuals augments his estimation with both sides by artfully insinuating that with the other party he can do more than he truly can. And in these and suchlike cases it not rarely happens that something is produced out of nothing. For lies suffice to engender opinion.
Moreover, in great actions which are undertaken at the expense and risk of private persons, vainglorious temperaments impel affairs more briskly. For those who are of a sober and solid temperament have more ballast than sail. Again, in the estimation of someone’s doctrine and letters, his fame will not flit through the mouths of men nor be well-winged without some feathers of ostentation.
Nor does virtue itself owe as much to human nature on account of the celebration of its own name as to itself. For the fame of Cicero, Seneca, and Pliny the Elder up to this very day would scarcely have endured, or at least not so vigorous, unless it had been conjoined with some vanity and ostentation in themselves. For ostentation seems to be like varnish, which makes wood not only shine, but also last.
And yet, while I discourse these things about vain glory, I by no means mean that quality which Tacitus attributed to Mucianus, an ostentator—by a certain art—of everything he had said and done. For this does not proceed from vanity at all, but from art and prudence, conjoined with a certain magnanimity. And it is found in some men who by nature are, as it were, fitted for it.
53. [ = English LV] ON HONOR AND ESTIMATION
1. Honoris et existimationis vera et iure optimo acquisitio ea est, ut quis virtutes et facultates suas dextre et absque detrimento revelet. Nonnulli enim in actionibus suis proci famae sunt, et veluti venatores. Quod genus hominum sermonibus plerunque celebratur, sed interiorem animi reverentiam vix assequitur.
1. The true and by best right acquisition of honor and estimation is this: that one dexterously and without detriment reveal his virtues and faculties. For some in their actions are suitors of fame, and as it were hunters. This kind of men is for the most part celebrated in discourses, but scarcely attains the inner reverence of the mind.
Others, contrariwise, obscure their own virtue in the very act of demonstrating it. From this it comes about that in opinion they are lesser than their merits require. If someone should undertake and at once complete a matter which previously had been intended, indeed attempted but abandoned, or perhaps brought to an outcome but less conveniently and successfully, he will acquire greater honor than if he had perfected something of truly graver difficulty and moment, but in which he merely pressed the footprints of another and did not go beyond.
If someone so matches and counter-tempers his actions among themselves that in some of them he gives satisfaction to the several factions or combinations of the populace, the harmony will be so much the more perfect. He is the dispenser of his own honor least fragile who undertakes even a matter in which there would be more disgrace to fall short of one’s vows than honor to have obtained. Honor, which is comparative and overweights another, has a most vivid reflexion, like an adamant or a carbuncle with many cut angles.
Therefore strive earnestly to do this: that you surpass your competitors, if only you can, even in those things in which they themselves most highly glory. Slaves and familiar friends, provided they be prudent and cautious, are of no small benefit to a person’s reputation. Thus, as Q. Cicero [says], all fame emanates from the household.
2. Gradus honoris imperialis sic vere et optime ordinantur. Primo loco statuendi conditores imperiorum, quales fuerunt Romulus, Cyrus, Iulius Caesar, Ottomannus, Ismael.
Envy, which is as it were the moth and shipworm of honor, is best extinguished if one seem to have set this before oneself: to esteem merit rather than fame, and to attribute one’s prosperous successes more to divine providence and to a certain felicity than to one’s own arts or virtues.
2. The degrees of imperial honor are thus truly and best ordered. In the first place are to be set the founders of empires, such as were Romulus, Cyrus, Julius Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael.
In the second place, law-givers (legislators), who were also called second founders or perpetual princes, since by their laws they administer empires even after death, such as Lycurgus, Solon, Justinian, Edgar, Alfonso the Castilian surnamed the Wise, who issued the Seven Partitions. In the third place, liberators or preservers of their fatherlands, who put an end to long-standing civil wars or freed their fatherlands from the servitude of foreigners or tyrants, as Augustus Caesar, Vespasian, Aurelian, Theodoric, Henry VII king of England, Henry IV king of France. In the fourth place, propagators or champions of empire, who by honorable wars extended the borders of empire, or by strenuous and noble defense withstood invaders.
54. [ = English 56] ON THE DUTY OF THE JUDGE
1. Meminisse debent iudices esse muneris suis ius dicere, non autem ius dare, leges inquam interpretari, non condere. Aliter deveniet eorum auctoritas simile quiddam auctoritati illi quam vendicant ecclesia Romana, quae praetextu interpretationis Scripturarum etiam addit aliquid quandoque et immutat, et pronunciat quod non invenit, atque specie antiquitatis introducit novitatem. Iudicem opportet esse potius eruditum quam ingeniosum, venerabilem quam gratiosum, magis deliberativum quam confidentem.
1. Judges ought to remember that it belongs to their office to declare the law, not, however, to give (make) law—to interpret laws, I say, not to enact them. Otherwise their authority will become something like that authority which the Roman Church claims, which, under the pretext of interpretation of the Scriptures, even sometimes adds something and alters, and pronounces what it has not found, and under the appearance of antiquity introduces novelty. A judge ought to be rather erudite than ingenious, venerable rather than popular, more deliberative than confident.
2. Primo quantum ad caussas et litigantes, sunt (inquit Scriptura) sui iudicium vertunt in absynthium.
Thus says Solomon: a disturbed fountain and a corrupted vein is the just man falling in his own cause before his adversary. The office of the judge may have reference partly to the litigants, partly to the advocates, partly to the scribes and ministers of justice below, partly to the prince or the estate above.
2. First, as regards causes and litigants, there are (says Scripture) those who turn judgment into wormwood.
There are also certainly those who turn it into vinegar. For injustice makes it bitter, delay makes it acid. A strenuous judge does this chiefly: that he restrains force and fraud, of which the force is the more pernicious the more open, and the fraud the more pernicious the more covered and hidden.
Add also the contentious suits which ought to be spewed out like the crapulence of the courts. It befits the judge to prepare the way to a just sentence, such as God prepares by exalting valleys and depressing hills. In the same way, when on one side or the other the judge sees the hand lifted up—such as in importunate prosecution, malicious captiousness, combinations, the patronage of the powerful, disparity of advocates, and the like—then the virtue of the judge shines forth in equalizing those things which are unequal, so that he may found his judgment as it were upon a level plain.
Especially in penal laws it ought to be their care that those which were enacted for terror be not turned into rigor, nor bring upon the people that shower of which Scripture says, he will rain snares upon them. For penal laws, if they are committed to execution with severity, are like a rain of snares falling upon the people. Therefore laws of this sort, if they have either long lain dormant or fit the present times less well, should be restrained by prudent judges in their execution.
In caussis capitalibus decet iudices (quantum lex permittit) in iudicio meminisse misericordiae, et cum severitate exemplum, cum pietate personam intueri.
3. Quantum ad advocatos qui caussas agunt, patientia et gravitas in caussis audiendis iustitiae est pars essentialis, et iudex nimium interloquens minime est cymbalum bene sonans. Non laudi est iudici, si primus aliquid in caussa inveniat et arripiat quod ab advocatis suo tempore melius audiere potuisset, aut acumen ostentet in probationibus vel advocatorum perorationibus nimis cito interrumpendis, aut anticipet informationes quaestionibus, licet ad rem pertinentibus.
In capital cases it befits judges (as far as the law permits) in judgment to remember mercy, and with severity to regard the example, with piety the person.
3. As for the advocates who plead causes, patience and gravitas in hearing cases is an essential part of justice, and a judge who interjects too much is by no means a well-sounding cymbal. It is no credit to a judge if he is the first to find something in the case and snatch at it which he could have heard better from the advocates in its time, or if he flaunts acumen by interrupting the proofs or the advocates’ perorations too quickly, or if he anticipates the informations with questions, although pertaining to the matter.
The judge’s parts in hearing are four: to order the series of proofs; to moderate the prolixity, repetition, or speeches outside the matter of the advocates and witnesses; to recapitulate, select, and compose among themselves the marrow of what has been alleged and the things of greater moment; and finally to render sentence. Whatever beyond these is excessive arises either from a little-glory and an avidity of speaking, or from an impatience of hearing, or from a debility of memory, or from a defect of settled and even attention. Oftentimes it is wonderful to see how much the boldness of advocates prevails with judges, whereas on the contrary judges ought, in imitation of God (in whose tribunal they sit), to compress the proud and to raise up the humble.
But it is yet more a marvel that judges favor certain advocates above the rest immoderately and openly. This of necessity augments and multiplies the advocates’ fee, and at the same time induces suspicion of corruption and of an oblique access to the judges. Some praise and commendation are owed to an advocate by the judge, when causes are well conducted and handled, especially if his own cause should fall.
For this protects, in the client’s eyes, the estimation of his own advocate and at the same time overthrows his opinion about his own cause. A moderate reprehension of advocates is also owed by the commonwealth, where they produce counsels too crafty, or supine negligence appears, or slight information, or unseemly importunity, or an impudent defense. Moreover, let the advocate grant this to the judge: that he not drown him out, nor slyly insinuate himself again into the pleading of the cause after the judge has pronounced on the matter.
4. Quantum ad scribas et ministros, sedes iustitiae veluti locus sacratus est, ubi non tantum sedes ipsa, sed et subsellia et praecinctus sedis scandalo et corruptelis vacare debent. Etenim (ut ait Scriptura) non colliguntur uvae ex spinis, neque iustitia suaves suos fructus edere potest inter vepres et dumeta scribarum et ministorum rapacium et lucris inhiantium.
On the contrary, however, let the judge not intrude himself into a cause that is midway and in no wise fully pleaded, nor afford the client an occasion to complain that his advocates or his proofs were not heard to the full.
4. As for the scribes and ministers, the seat of justice is as it were a consecrated place, where not only the seat itself, but also the benches and the precinct of the seat ought to be free from scandal and corruptions. For indeed (as Scripture says) grapes are not gathered from thorns, nor can justice put forth its own sweet fruits amid the brambles and thickets of rapacious scribes and ministers gaping after lucre.
There are four depraved hangers-on of the courts: first, the sowers of lawsuits, who make the courts swell and the people waste away. Second, those who entangle the courts with contentions around jurisdiction, and are not truly (as they are held) amici curiae, but parasites of the court, inflating the courts beyond their boundaries for the sake of crumbs and their own gains. Third, those who may be reckoned as the left hands of the courts, men who twist the lawful processes of the courts by bypaths and crafty stratagems, and drag justice into oblique lines and labyrinths.
5. Quantum vero ad principem aut statum, iudices ante omnia in memoria fixum tenere debent versiculum ultimum duodecim tabularum Romanorum, salus popula suprema lex, et pro certo ponere leges, nisi sint in ordine and eum finem, res esse captiosas et oracula male inspirata.
Fourth, despoilers and exactors of foul fees, who confirm the worn simile of courts to the bramble, to which, while the sheep, fleeing the storm, takes refuge, it loses a part of its fleece. On the contrary, an ancient scribe, skilled in the prior records of the courts, cautious in composing the acts themselves, and in the business of the court a deft finger, is an outstanding man of the court, and often points out the way to the judge himself.
5. As for the prince or the state, judges before all ought to hold fixed in memory the last little verse of the Twelve Tables of the Romans, “the welfare of the people [is] the supreme law,” and to set down for certain that laws, unless they are in order and to that end, are captious things and oracles ill-inspired.
Therefore it succeeds well when the king or the state more often deliberates with the judges, and in turn when the judges more often consult the prince and the senate. The former, when amid political deliberations a question of law intervenes; the latter, when in a legal subject considerations of state intervene. For it happens not rarely that a matter brought into judgment turns upon “mine and thine,” and nonetheless its consequence penetrates to reasons of state.
I understand, moreover, that matters pertain to reasons of state not only when anything looks to the enforcement of the rule of rights, but also when anything introduces some less safe innovation or a dangerous example, or when it manifestly burdens a larger portion of the people. Nor let anyone of infirm judgment suppose that just laws have any antipathy against true politics. For these two are, as it were, the spirit and the nerves, wherein the one moves within the other.
Let judges remember that Solomon’s throne was supported on either side by lions. Let them indeed be lions, but lions under the throne, taking care lest they make an onset upon or tear away anything from the regal rights. Lastly, let judges not be so ignorant of the law and of their own prerogative as to think that there is not left to them, as the principal part of their office, the sound and prudent use and application of the laws.
55. [ = English 57] ON ANGER
1. Iram penitus extinguere velle ostentatio quaedam Stoicorum est. Meliora nos nacti sumus oracula, irascimini et nolite peccare, sol non occidat super iracundiam vestram. Limites irae apponendi sunt, et quousque et quamdiu.
1. To wish to extinguish anger utterly is a certain ostentation of the Stoics. We have chanced upon better oracles: “be angry and do not sin; let not the sun go down upon your iracundity.” Limits are to be set to anger, both how far and how long.
2. Quantum ad primum, non alia se ostendit via quam ut serio in animo revolvas mala et calamitates irae, et quam vehementer vitam humanam perturbat et infestat. Hoc autem tempestivum fuerit maxime, si pone nos respiciamus quamprimum impetum irae resedent. Eleganter Seneca, iram ruinae similem esse, quae in aliud cadendo seipsam comminuit et frangit.
2. As to the first, no other way shows itself than that you seriously turn over in your mind the evils and calamities of anger, and how vehemently it perturbs and infests human life. This, moreover, will be most timely, if we look back after, as soon as the onset of anger has subsided. Elegantly, Seneca [says] that anger is similar to a ruin, which, in falling upon another thing, crushes and breaks itself.
2. Ira sane, si quis recte attendat, res humilis est, in infra dignitatem hominis. Hoc liquebit si illos intuamur in quibus ira regnat, qui plerunque ex infirmioribus sunt: pueri, mulieres, senes, aegroti. Itaque cum irasci contigerit, caveant homines (si modo dignitatis suae velint esse memores) ne iram suam cum metu eorum quibus irascuntur, sed cum contemptu coniungant, ita ut superiores potius videantur quam inferiores.
2. Anger, indeed, if one attend rightly, is a lowly thing, and beneath the dignity of man. This will be clear if we look at those in whom anger reigns, who for the most part are of the more infirm: boys, women, old men, the sick. And so, when it happens to be angry, let men beware (if only they wish to be mindful of their dignity) not to conjoin their anger with fear of those at whom they are angered, but with contempt, so that they may seem rather superiors than inferiors.
3. Quantum ad secundum, caussae et motiva irae praecipue tres sunt. Primo, si quis pronus sit ad sensum iniuriae.
Which would not be difficult to do, if one would govern and bend his anger a little.
3. As to the second point, the causes and motives of anger are chiefly three. First, if someone is prone to a sense of injury.
Secondly, if someone be curious and perspicacious in the interpretation of the injury inflicted, with regard to its circumstances, as though it breathed contempt. For the opinion of contempt excites and sharpens anger more than the injury itself. And so, if men be ingenious at these things, they will inflame anger in wondrous ways.
Lastly, the opinion of contumely, or that a man’s estimation by consequence is injured and asperse-marked, intensifies and multiplies anger. To which matter there is added a present remedy, that one use (as Consalvus used to say) a thicker fabric of honor. But in all bridlings of anger it is best to gain time and to persuade oneself that the hour of vengeance is not yet come, but that there is impending, as it were at hand, some greater opportunity; and by this pact to restrain the movement of the mind meanwhile, and to reserve oneself for another time.
4. Quantum ad excidandam aut sedandam iram in aliis, fit hoc maxime per temporum electionem prudentem. Cum subtristes homines sunt aut aliquantulum morosi, tempus est iram incendendi. Deinde, ut antea diximus, decerpendo et inculcando quicquid contemptum arguere aut aggravare possit.
4. As regards excising or assuaging anger in others, this is achieved chiefly by a prudent selection of times. When men are somewhat gloomy or a little morose, it is the time for kindling anger. Then, as we said before, by picking out and inculcating whatever can argue or aggravate contempt.
56. [ = English 58] ON THE VICISSITUDE OF THINGS
1. Salomon inquit nihil novum super terram. Itaque, quemadmodum Plato opinatus est, omnem scientiam nihil aliud esse quin reminiscentiam. Sic Salomon pronunciat, omnem novitatem nihil aliud esse quam oblivionem.
1. Solomon says nothing new is upon the earth. Therefore, just as Plato supposed that all science is nothing else than reminiscence, thus Solomon pronounces every novelty to be nothing else than oblivion.
From this you can discern that the river of Lethe runs no less over the earth than under the earth. A certain astrologer, abstruse and little known, asserts that unless there had been two constant things in the cause (one, that the fixed stars preserve an equal distance among themselves perpetually; the other, that the diurnal motion does not vary), not even a moment, any individual instant of time, could have endured. This is certain: matter is in perpetual flux, and never comes to a stand.
However, those great sepulchral shrouds which envelop all things in oblivion are two: deluges and earthquakes. As for conflagrations and great droughts, those do not utterly absorb or destroy the people. The fable of Phaethon represented the brevity of the conflagration as to the span of only one day.
I pass over pestilences as well, because they do not totally absorb either. But in those two calamities already mentioned (of deluges and of earthquakes), moreover, it is to be noted that the remnants of peoples who happen to emerge are for the most part rude men and mountaineers, and who cannot hand down to posterity the memory of times past; so that oblivion involves all things no less than if no survivors at all had remained.
If anyone should attentively look into the condition of the Western Indians, he will find it probable that they are a younger and more recent people than the peoples of the old world. But it is far more likely that that desolation which once invaded them was by no means brought about through earthquakes (contrary to what the Egyptian priest related in a colloquy with Solon about the island Atlantis, namely that it was swallowed by an earthquake), but rather through a particular deluge. For earthquakes in those regions occur rarely.
But on the contrary side, they have rivers so truly immense and vast that the rivers of Asia, Africa, and Europe are, in comparison with them, like rivulets. Nay, even their Andes, that is, mountains, are far higher than ours. Whence it is credible that the relics of the stock of men among them were conserved after such a particular deluge.
2. Vicissitudines sive mutationes in globo superiori fusius in hoc sermone tractandae non sunt.
As to Machiavelli’s observation—namely that the jealousy and emulation of sects has contrived many things to extinguish the memory of events—he brands Gregory the Great with a stigma, as if he had, to the utmost of his powers, endeavored to suppress all the antiquities of the pagans; I certainly do not see zeal of this sort either effect anything notable or endure long, which is clear from the succession of Sabinianus, who at once resuscitated those same antiquities. Then indeed, things prohibited, although shrouded in darkness, nevertheless creep in and obtain their own periods.
2. Vicissitudes or mutations in the superior globe are not to be treated at greater length in this discourse.
3. Leviculum quiddam est quod olim inaudiveram, neque tamen prorsus contemni volo, sed in observationem aliquam venire.
Perhaps the Great Year of Plato, unless the world were destined beforehand for dissolution, might be able to obtain some effect—not in the renewing of the bodies of individuals (for that is the smoke and vanity of those who opine that the heavenly bodies have more accurate influences upon these lower things than they truly have), but only upon the summits and masses of things. But men, as things now stand, are careless or curious about them, and rather gaze at them in wonder and compile their itineraries than prudently and soberly note their effects, especially their comparative effects, that is: a comet of such magnitude, such color and light, of conversion of the rays, position as regards the region of the sky, season of the year, path or course, duration—what sort of effects does it produce.
3. There is a slight trifle which I once heard, nor do I wish it to be utterly contemned, but to come under some observation.
They report that it has been observed by the Belgians that every seven lustrums a similar temperament of the years and of the weather of the sky, as it were, returns in a cycle. For example, great ices, great inundations, great droughts, tepid winters, cooler summers, and the like. Moreover, they call such a circle of years the Prima.
4. Verum transeamus a naturalibus ad humana. Maxima apud homines vicissitudo est illa sectarum et religionum.
I review this for this reason: casting my eyes upon the past, I found a congruence in this matter, not exact to be sure, but not much discrepant.
4. But let us pass from natural things to human things. The greatest vicissitude among men is that of sects and religions.
For these cycles hold supreme dominion over the minds of men. True religion is built upon a rock; the rest are driven to and fro by the waves of the times. Let us, therefore, say something about the causes and counsels of new sects, and sprinkle something around them, in so far as the resourcefulness of human ingenuity may be able to throw delays in the way of, or furnish remedies for, such great revolutions.
5. Quando religio recepta discordiis laceratur, sanctitas item professorum labefacta est et scandalo exposita, simulque tempora stupida, indocta, et barbara sunt, a novae alicuius sectae ortu merito metuendum, praecipue si eo tempore ingenium aliquod intemperans et paradoxa spirans suboriatur. Quae omnia tenuerunt Mahometes cum legem suam promulgavit. Secta nova licet pullulet, duobus si destituatur adminiculis, ab ei non metuas, non enim late se diffundet.
5. When the received religion is torn by discords, and the sanctity likewise of its professors is shaken and exposed to scandal, and at the same time the times are stupid, unlearned, and barbarous, one may justly fear from the rise of some new sect, especially if at that time some intemperate genius, breathing paradoxes, should arise. All these things obtained with Mahomet when he promulgated his law. Although a new sect may sprout, if it be destitute of two supports, you need not fear it, for it will not spread widely.
For speculative heresies (such as was once that of the Arians, and today of the Arminians), although they operate upon the ingenia of men in wondrous ways, yet they will not greatly shake the state of commonwealths, except on the occasion of civil tumults. There are three modes by which new sects are planted: by miracles, by eloquence, and by the sword. For my part, I number martyrdoms among the miracles, since they seem to exceed the powers of human nature.
6. Mutationes et vicissitudines in rebus bellicis haud pauci sunt, sed praecipue in tribus versantur, in sede belli, in genere armorum, et in disciplina militari.
The same also may be done with respect to that lofty and admirable sanctity of life. Surely there is no better way to repel the outbreaks of sects and schisms than the reformation of abuses, the pacification of minor dissensions, to proceed gently from the beginning, and to abstain from sanguinary persecutions; and finally to soften and allure the ringleaders of schisms by favors and dignities rather than to exasperate them by violence and savagery.
6. Mutations and vicissitudes in matters of war are not few, but they turn chiefly on three: on the seat of war, on the kind of arms, and on military discipline.
Wars in ancient times seemed chiefly to move from the East into the West. Indeed, the Persians, Assyrians, Scythians (who were the invaders) were all Easterners. It is true that the Gauls were Westerners, but we read of only two of their incursions, one into Gallo-Greece, the other against the Romans.
Nevertheless, the Orient and the Occident do not determine the climates of the sky. For the movements of war admit no certain observation from the east or from the west. But the south and the north are by nature fixed, and it is rarely found in all memory that southerners have invaded northerners into the interior, but on the contrary.
7. Imperio aliquo magno labascante et viribus fracto pro certo bella expectes.
Whence it is manifest that the northern tract of the world is by nature itself more bellicose, whether this can be ascribed to the stars of this hemisphere, or to the amplitude of the continents toward the northern parts, since the austral parts (so far as has become known hitherto) are almost entirely occupied by seas, or (that which is most manifest) to the colds of the boreal climate. For this very thing, without any other cause whatsoever, hardens bodies, inflames spirits, as is clear in the Auracan people, who, situated toward the farther South, far excel all Peruvians in fortitude.
7. When some great empire is lapsing and its forces are broken, you may for certain expect wars.
For indeed great empires, while they are in vigor, enervate and destroy the native forces of the provinces, trusting in their own cohorts at home. But when those too fail, everything collapses and yields as prey to other nations. This happened in the declination of the Roman Empire and also in the Western Empire after Charlemagne, when each bird was reclaiming its own feathers.
And something similar might also befall the Spanish empire, if ever it should fall in strength. On the other hand, great accessions of dominions and unions of kingdoms likewise arouse wars. For when some state rises into greater power, it is like a swelling river which immediately threatens an inundation, as is seen in the empires of the Romans, the Turks, the Spaniards, and others.
Attend: when the world abounds less in barbarian nations, but they are for the most part more civil—who do not take wives rashly, nor beget children unless they have foreseen the measure for supporting a family, or at least for providing a livelihood (as is the case in almost all nations today, the Tartars excepted)—there does not press in a danger from inundations or migrations of peoples. But when there are great herds of peoples, who perpetually beget progeny, least solicitous for their fortunes and sustenance in the future, it is necessary that in one age or another they disburden themselves of some portion of their multitude and seek new seats, and thus invade other nations.
Which the ancient northern peoples were wont to do by lot, casting lots as to which part should remain at home, and which should migrate elsewhere. When a nation formerly warlike degenerates into softness and luxury, one may be sure about war. For such states, for the most part, while they degenerate, accumulate wealth, to such a degree that the prey allures, and the decline of their forces heartens other nations to invade those same people.
8. Quantum ad armorum et telorum genus, illorum mutationes sub observationem vix cadunt, attamen et haec ipsa periodis et vicissitudines suas sortiuntur. Pro certo enim est tormenta aenea apud urbem Oxydracarum in India tempore Alexandri Magni cognita fuisse, eaque a Macedonibus tonitrua et fulgura et operationes magicas habita et appellata. Similiter indubitatum est usum pulveris pyrii et tormentorum igneorum Chinensibus ante annos bis mille innotuisse.
8. As regards the kind of arms and weapons, their mutations scarcely fall under observation; nevertheless, these also obtain their own periods and vicissitudes. For it is certain that bronze ordnance were known at the city of the Oxydracae in India in the time of Alexander the Great, and that these were held and called by the Macedonians thunders and lightnings and magical operations. Similarly, it is undoubted that the use of pyric powder (gunpowder) and fiery artillery had become known to the Chinese two thousand years ago.
Secondly, that their impetus be stronger and more robust. In which kind the fire-engines surpass likewise all batterings and the ancient machines. Thirdly, that their use be more commodious and easier, which also befits the greater fire-engines, which are suitable for all weathers, light in carriage and mobile, and the like.
9. Quod ad militiam attinet, antiquis temporibus numerum praecipue curabant. Virtuti et animis militum in bellis gerendis fidebant. Dies saepius et loca praeliandi constituebant, et aequo Marte experiebantur.
9. As for the military, in ancient times they chiefly cared about number. They relied on the valor and spirit of the soldiers in conducting wars. They more often appointed the days and the places for fighting, and made trial with Mars on equal terms.
10. In reipublicae alicuius adolescentia arma florent, aetate media literae. Ac dienceps, ad moram aliquam duo illa simul florere solent, devexa autem aetate artes mechanicae et mercatura.
Lastly, in the very arraying of the line of battle they were becoming more expert.
10. In the adolescence of any republic arms flourish, in its middle age letters. And thereafter, for some while those two are wont to flourish together, but in a declining age the mechanical arts and mercantile trade.
Finally, their old age steals upon them, when they are dry and exhausted, garrulity remaining nevertheless. But it would not be well-advised to fix our eyes too long upon these wheels of vicissitudes, lest we be seized by vertigo. As for philology, however, which for the most part busies itself in this subject, it is nothing other than a collection of little narrations and a congeries of futile observations, and therefore does not at all suit this writing.