but all artificial; yet he covered, and disguising it for five years more; he furnished himself with arms and legions, and the power of a warlike and opulent province; and was formidable to Italy.

ed himself so, that no such vices appeared to the eyes of the world; but he was generally reputed to proceed plainly and uprightly with all men. Howbeit, he did not stoop to any petty and mean artifices, as they do, which are ignorant in state employments; and depend not so much upon the strength of their own wits, as upon the counsels and brains of others, to support their authority; for he was skilled in the turnings of all human affairs; and transacted all matters, especially those of high consequence, by himself, and not by others.

He was singularly skilful to avoid envy; and found it not impertinent to his ends, to decline that, though it were with some diminution of his dignity. For aiming at a real power, he was content to pass by all vain pomp and outward shows of power throughout his whole life; till at the last, whether high-flown with the continual exercise of power, or corrupted with flatteries, he affected the ensigns of power, (the style and diadem of a king,) which was the bait that wrought his overthrow.

Neither was he ignorant, that after he had strengthened himself with arms, and a military power, neither Crassus nor Pompey could ever be able to bear up against him; whereof the one trusted to his great riches; the other to his fame and reputation; the one decayed through age, the other in power and authority: and neither of them were grounded upon true and lasting foundations. And the rather, for that he had obliged all the senators and magistrates: and in a word all those that had any power in the commonwealth, so firmly to himself, with private benefits, that he was fearless of any combination or opposition against his designs, till he had openly invaded the imperial power.

Which thing, though he always bare in his mind, and at the last acted it; yet he did not lay down his former person: but coloured things so, that what with the reasonableness of his demands; what with his pretences of peace; and what with the moderate use of his successes, he turned all the envy of the adverse party; and seemed to take up arms upon necessity for his own preservation and safety. But the falseness of this pretence manifestly appeared, inasmuch as soon after having obtained the regal power, all civil wars being appeased, and all his rivals and opposites, which might put him to any fear, being removed out of the way by the stroke of death; notwithstanding he never thought of resigning the republic; no, nor ever made any show or offer of Which showed plainly, that his ambition of being a king was settled in him, and remained with him unto his last breath. For he did not lay hold upon occasions, as they happened, but moulded and formed the occasions, as himself pleased.

This is true, that he harboured the thoughts of a kingdom from his very youth: and hereunto the example of Sylla, and the kindred of Marius, and his emulation of Pompey, and the corruption and ambition of the times, did prick him forward: but then he paved his way to a kingdom, after a wonderful and strange manner. As first, by a popular and seditious power; afterwards by a military power, and that of a general in war. For there was required to effect his ends; first, that he should break the power and authority of the senate; which, as long as it stood firm, was ad-resigning the same. verse, and a hinderance, that no man could climb to sovereignty and imperial command. Then the power of Crassus and Pompey was to be subdued and quelled, which could not be done otherwise than by arms. And therefore, as the most cunning contriver of his own fortune, he laid his first foundation by bribes; by corrupting the courts of justice; by renewing the memory of Caius Marius, and his party; for most of the senators and nobility were of Sylla's faction: by the laws of distributing the fields, amongst the common people: by the sedition of the tribunes, where he was the author: by the madness and fury of Catiline, and the conspirators, unto which action he secretly blew the coals! By the banishment of Cicero, which was the greatest blow to the authority of the senate, as might be; and several other the like arts; but most of all by the conjunction of Crassus and Pompey, both betwixt themselves, and with him; which was the thing that finished the work.

His chief abilities consisted in martial knowledge; in which he so excelled, that he could not only lead an army, but mould an army to his own liking. For he was not more skilful in managing affairs, than in winning of hearts. Neither did he effect this by any ordinary discipline, as by inuring them to fulfil all his commands; or by striking a shame into them to disobey, or by carrying a severe hand over them: but by such a way as did wonderfully stir up an alacrity and cheerfulness in them; and did in a sort assure him of the victory aforehand, and which did oblige the soldier to him, more than was fit for a free estate. Now whereas he was versed in all kinds of martial knowledge, and joined civil arts, with the arts of war; nothing came so suddenly, or so unlooked for upon him, for which he had not a remedy at hand: and nothing was so adverse, but that he could pick something for his turn and benefit out

Having accomplished this part, he betook himself to the other; which was to make use of, and to enjoy his power. For being made proconsul of France for five years; and afterwards continu- of it.

ness.

He stood sufficiently upon his state and great-mitted none to his cabinet council, but those that For in great battles he would sit at home had their fortunes wholly depending upon him. in the head-quarter, and manage all things by mes- He was moderately furnished with good literasages, which wrought him a double benefit. First, ture, and the arts; but in such sort as he applied that it secured his person more, and exposed him his skill therein to civil policy. For he was well the less to danger. Secondly, that if at any time read in history; and was expert in rhetoric, and his army was worsted, he could put new spirit the art of speaking. And because he attributed into them with his own presence, and the addition much to his good stars, he would pretend more of fresh forces, and turn the fortune of the day. than an ordinary knowledge in astronomy. As In the conducting of his wars, he would not only for eloquence, and a prompt elocution, that was follow former precedents, but he was able to de- natural to him and pure. vise and pursue new stratagems, according as the accidents and occasions required.

He was dissolute, and propense to voluptuousness and pleasures; which served well at first He was constant, and singularly kind, and in- for a cover to his ambition. For no man would dulgent in his friendships contracted. Notwith-imagine, that a man so loosely given could harstanding, he made choice of such friends, as a bour any ambitious and vast thoughts in his heart. man might easily see, that he chose them rather Notwithstanding, he so governed his pleasures, to be instruments to his ends, than for any goodwill towards them. And whereas, by nature, and out of a firm resolution, he adhered to this principle; not to be eminent amongst great and deserving men, but to be chief amongst the infe- | riors and vassals; he chose only mean and active men, and such as to whom himself might be allin all. And hereupon grew that saying, "So let Cæsar live, though I die;" and other speeches of that kind. As for the nobility, and those that were his peers, he contracted friendship with such of them as might be useful to him; and ad- I

that they were no hinderance either to his profit or his business; and they did rather whet than dull the vigour of his mind. He was temperate at his meals; free from niceness and curiosity in his lusts; pleasant and magnificent at public interludes.

Thus being accomplished, the same thing was the means of his downfall at last, which in his beginnings was a step to his rise; I mean, his affection of popularity; for nothing is more popular than to forgive our enemies; through which, either virtue or cunning, he lost his life.

A

CIVIL CHARACTER OF AUGUSTUS CÆSAR.

WRITTEN IN LATIN BY HIS LORDSHIP, AND ENGLISHED BY DR. RAWLEY.

AUGUSTUS CÆSAR, if ever any mortal man, was endued with a greatness of mind, undisturbed with passions, clear and well ordered; which is evidenced by the high achievements which he performed in his early youth. For those persons which are of a turbulent nature or appetite, do commonly pass their youth in many errors; and about their middle, and then and not before, they show forth their perfections: but those that are of a sedate and calm nature may be ripe for great and glorious actions in their youth. And whereas the faculties of the mind, no less than the parts and members of the body, do consist and flourish in a good temper of health, and beauty, and strength; so he was in the strength of the mind inferior to his uncle Julius; but the health and beauty of the mind superior. For Julius being of an unquiet and uncomposed spirit, as those who are troubled with the falling sickness for the most part are. Notwithstanding, he carried on

his own ends with much moderation and discretion; but he did not order his ends well, proposing to himself vast and high designs above the reach of a mortal man. But Augustus, as a man sober and mindful of his mortality, seemed to propound no other ends to himself than such as were orderly and well-weighed and governed by reason. For first he was desirous indeed to have the rule and principality in his hands: then he sought to appear worthy of that power which he should acquire: next, to enjoy a high place he accounted but a transitory thing: lastly, he endeavoured to do such actions as might continue his memory and leave an impression of his good government to after ages. And, therefore, in the beginning of his age, he affected power; in the middle of his age, honour and dignity; in the decline of his years, ease and pleasure; and in the end of his life, he was wholly bent to memory and posterity.

THE PRAISE OF

HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES,

BY FRANCIS BACON.

WRITTEN IN LATIN BY HIS LORDSHIP. AND TRANSLATED BY DR. BIRCH.➜

HENRY, Prince of Wales, eldest son of the King | highly valued by him; and he breathed himself of Great Britain, happy in the hopes conceived of something warlike. He was much devoted to him, and now happy in his memory, died on the the magnificence of buildings and works of all 6th of Nov. 1612, to the extreme concern and re- kinds, though in other respects rather frugal; and gret of the whole kingdom, being a youth who was a lover both of antiquity and arts. He showhad neither offended nor satiated the minds of ed his esteem of learning in general more by the men. He had by the excellence of his disposition countenance which he gave to it, than by the time excited high expectations among great numbers of which he spent in it. His conduct in respect of all ranks; nor had through the shortness of his morals did him the utmost honour; for he was life disappointed them. One capital circumstance thought exact in the knowledge and practice of added to these was, the esteem in which he was every duty. His obedience to the king his father commonly held, of being firm to the cause of re- was wonderfully strict and exemplary: towards ligion and men of the best judgment were fully the queen he behaved with the highest reverence: persuaded, that his life was a great support and to his brother he was indulgent; and had an ensecurity to his father from the danger of conspira- tire affection for his sister, whom he resembled in cies; an evil, against which our age has scarce person as much as that of a young man could the found a remedy; so that the people's love of re- beauty of a virgin. The instructors of his younger ligion and the king overflowed to the prince: and years (which rarely happens) continued high in this consideration deservedly heightened the sense his favour. In conversation he both expected a of the loss of him. His person was strong and proper decorum, and practised it. In the daily erect; his stature of a middle size; his limbs well business of life and the allotment of hours for the made; his gait and deportment majestic; his face several offices of it, he was more constant and relong and inclining to leanness: his habit of body gular than is usual at his age. His affections and full; his look grave, and the motion of his eyes passions were not strong, but rather equal than rather composed than spirited. In his counte- warm. With regard to that of love, there was a nance were some marks of severity, and in his air wonderful silence, considering his age, so that ne some appearance of haughtiness. But whoever passed that dangerous time of his youth, in the looked beyond these outward circumstances, and highest fortune, and in a vigorous state of health, addressed and softened him with a due respect and without any remarkable imputation of gallantry. seasonable discourse, found the prince to be gra- In his court no person was observed to have any cious and easy; so that he seemed wholly differ- ascendant over him, or strong interest with him • ent in conversation from what he was in appear- and even the studies, with which he was most deance, and in fact raised in others an opinion of him-lighted, had rather proper times assigned them, self very unlike what his manner would at first than were indulged to excess, and were rather rehave suggested. He was unquestionably ambi-peated in their turns, than that any one kind of tious of commendation and glory, and was strong- them had the preference of and controlled the ly affected by every appearance of what is good and rest: whether this arose from the moderation of his honourable; which in a young man is to be con- temper, and that in a genius not very forward, but sidered as virtue. Arms and military men were ripening by slow degrees, it did not yet appear *He says, "The following translation is an attempt, for the what would be the prevailing object of his inclisake of the English reader, to give the sense of the original, nation. He had certainly strong parts, and was without pretending to reach the force and conciseness of ex-endued both with curiosity and capacity; but in pression peculiar to the great writer as well as to the Roman language." speech he was slow, and in some measure hesi

tating. But whoever diligently observed what fell | the prince some things obscure, and not to be disfrom him, either by way of question or remark, covered by the sagacity of any person, but by saw it to be full to the purpose, and expressive of time only, which was denied him; but what apno common genius. So that under that slowness peared were excellent, which is sufficient for his and infrequency of discourse, his judgment had fame. more the appearance of suspense and solicitude to determine rightly, than of weakness and want of apprehension. In the mean time he was wonderfully patient in hearing, even in business of the greatest length; and this with unwearied attention, so that his mind seldom wandered from the subject, or seemed fatigued, but he applied him-spect to the deaths of princes, added a suspicion self wholly to what was said or done: which (if his life had been lengthened) promised a very superior degree of prudence. There were indeed in

He died in the 19th year of his age of an obstinate fever, which during the summer, through the excessive heat and dryness of the season, unusual to islands, had been epidemical, though not fatal, but in autumn became more mortal. Fame which, as Tacitus says, is more tragical with re

of poison: but as no signs of this appeared, especially in his stomach, which uses to be chiefly affected by poison, this report soon vanished.

MISCELLANEOUS TRACTS.

[TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN.]

THOUGHTS ON THE NATURE OF THINGS.*

THE theory of Democritus relating to atoms is, if not true, at least applicable with excellent effect to the exposition of nature. For it is not easy, except on the hypothesis of atomic particles, ei-ly. And let none imagine that odours can be ther to grasp in thought, or express in words, the real exility of parts in nature, such as it is discoverable in objects themselves.