Mathew to those spectacles? No; but I will be absent even while 1620 I am present; and so will I conquer both them and you.'

Whereupon yet they were not the less desirous to lead him on, perhaps out of a kind of curiosity to know whether or no he could be as good as his word.

As soon as they were arrived and placed, that whole world was swelling and even boiling again with those most vast and unnatural entertainments. He, shutting the windows of his eyes, forbade his mind to mingle itself with that mischief; and I would to God he had also stopped his ears! For by occasion of a certain fatal blow which was given, and by a strong cry of the whole people, which rung so loud about him (being overcome by curiosity, and, as it were, resolved that whatsoever it were he would overcome that also, and despise it even after he had seen it), he opened his eyes, and was stricken with a deeper wound in his soul than the other was in his body; and he fell more miserably than the man whom he desired to behold. For upon that fall it was that the cry was made, which entered into his ears and opened his eyes, that there might be a way whereby he also should be wounded and defeated at the heart.

He was at that time a man rather of a bold than of a valiant mind; and so much the weaker he was, for that he presumed upon himself, who ought to have confided only in Thee. For as soon as he beheld that blood, he withal drunk down a kind of savageness of mind, and turned not his head aside, but fastened his sight upon it, and swallowed up the very Furies themselves, and knew not of it; and he was enamoured with the wickedness of those combats, and made drunk with a delight in blood. He was now no more the man that came thither, but he grew to be even one of that common people to which he went, and an entire companion of those that led him. What shall I say more? He beheld them, he cried out for company, he was inflamed with the pleasure of it; and he carried home from thence

1620

such a measure of madness as provoked him to return, not Mathew only now with them by whom he was formerly debauched, but more earnestly than they, and so far as to be seducing of others. But yet even from thence Thou drewest him with a most powerful and merciful hand, and Thou taughtest him that he was to confide in Thee and not in himself. But this was done long after.

But this was laid up in his memory for his recovery afterward; as also when he studied at Carthage under me, and walking at noon-day in the market-place (considering that which he was to recite, according to the custom of scholars), thou sufferedst him to be apprehended as a thief by the officers of the place. Nor didst Thou, as I think, permit it for any other reason, O our God, but for that he, who was afterward to prove so great a man, might early begin to learn that one man was not easily to condemn another with temerarious cruelty, of whose cause he was juridically to take knowledge. He was walking then alone before the tribunal, with his tables and style in his hand; when behold, a certain young scholar, who was indeed a thief, carrying secretly a hatchet, did enter, without being observed by him, into certain grates of lead which overlooked Silver Street, and he began to cut the lead. But the noise of the hatchet being heard, the silversmiths who dwelt below began to mutter; and sent forth to apprehend whom they should chance to find. And as soon as he overheard their talk he fled away, leaving the instrument behind him, as fearing lest with it, and by it, he might be taken.

But Alipius, who perceived him not as he went in, heard him as he came out; and saw him speedily depart away. And being desirous to understand the cause, went into the place, and finding the hatchet, he paused a while and wondered at it. When behold! they that were sent found him alone with the instrument in his hand, by the noise whereof they were stirred up. They stay him, they draw

Mathew him along; and having gathered together the next dwellers 1620 of the market-place, they congratulated with themselves for taking such a notorious thief; and from thence they were carrying him towards the justice.

Hitherto he was in need to be instructed; but then, O Lord, Thou didst instantly come to the succour of his innocency, whereof Thou only wert the witness. And when he was to be led either to the prison or place of punishment, there encountered them a certain architect who had the chief care of public buildings. They were particularly glad to meet him, who was often wont to have advertisement of such things as were stolen out of the market-place; as if he perhaps might know by whom this particular offence had been committed. But this man had often seen Alipius in the house of a certain senator whom he used to court, and instantly knowing him, he took him by the hand and separated him from that confusion of people. And inquiring after the cause of that so great mischance, he understood what had been done, and willed all them who were there, in rage and tumult, to go along with him; and so they went to the house of that young man who had committed the fact. Now there was a boy standing at the door, and he was so young as that (being without fear of doing his master any hurt thereby) he disclosed the whole matter freely, for he was a kind of a foot-boy that followed him to the market; whom afterwards, as soon as Alipius remembered, he intimated so much to the architect. And he showed the hatchet to the boy, asking him whose it was, who instantly answered, 'Ours'; then, also, being examined, he confessed the rest. And so was this crime removed from Alipius to that house; and the multitude being confounded for having already begun to triumph over this man (who futurely was to become a dispenser of Thy word, and an examiner of many causes in Thy Church), he departed with increase of experience and knowledge. Sir Tobie Mathew.

THIS

A WONDER FOR WISE MEN

1622

HIS King (to speak of him in terms equal to his de- Bacon serving) was one of the best sort of wonders: a wonder for wise men. He had parts (both in his virtues and his fortune) not so fit for a commonplace as for observation. Certainly he was religious, both in his affection and observance. But as he could see clear (for those times) through superstition; so he would be blinded now and then by human policy. He advanced church-men. He was tender in the privilege of sanctuaries, though they wrought him much mischief. He built and endowed many religious foundations, besides his memorable hospital of the Savoy: and yet was he a great alms-giver in secret; which showed that his works in public were dedicated rather to God's glory than his own. He professed always to love and seek peace; and it was his usual preface in his treaties, that when Christ came into the world peace was sung, and when He went out of the world peace was bequeathed. And this virtue could not proceed out of fear or softness, for he was valiant and active; and therefore no doubt it was truly Christian and moral. Yet he knew the way to peace was not to seem to be desirous to avoid wars. Therefore would he make offers and fames of wars, till he had mended the conditions of peace. It was also much, that one that was so great a lover of peace should be so happy in war. For his arms, either in foreign or civil wars, were never infortunate; neither did he know what a disaster meant. The war of his coming in, and the rebellions of the Earl of Lincoln and the Lord Audley, were ended by victory. The wars of France and Scotland by peaces sought at his hands. That of Brittaine by accident of the Duke's death. The insurrection of the Lord Lovell, and that of Perkin at Exeter and in Kent, by flight of the rebels before they

VOL. I.

S

Bacon came to blows. So that his fortune of arms was still in1622 violate. The rather sure, for that in the quenching of the commotions of his subjects he ever went in person: sometimes reserving himself to back and second his lieutenants, but ever in action. And yet that was not merely forwardness, but partly distrust of others.

He did much maintain and countenance his laws; which (nevertheless) was no impediment to him to work his will. For it was so handled that neither prerogative nor profit went to diminution. And yet as he would sometimes strain up his laws to his prerogative, so would he also let down his prerogative to his Parliament. For mint and wars and martial discipline (things of absolute power) he would nevertheless bring to Parliament. Justice was well administered in his time, save where the King was party; save also that the Council Table intermeddled too much with meum and tuum. For it was a very court of justice during his time; especially in the beginning. But in that part both of justice and policy which is the durable part, and cut as it were in brass or marble, which is the making of good laws, he did excel. And with his justice he was also a merciful prince: as in whose time there were but three of the nobility that suffered; the Earl of Warwick; the Lord Chamberlain ; and the Lord Audley: though the first two were instead of numbers in the dislike and obloquy of the people. But there were never so great rebellions expiated with so little blood drawn by the hand of justice, as the two rebellions of Blackheath and Exeter. As for the severity used upon those which were taken in Kent, it was but upon a scum of people. His pardons went ever both before and after his sword. But then he had withal a strange kind of interchanging of large and inexpected pardons with severe executions: which (his wisdom considered) could not be imputed to any inconstancy or inequality; but either to some reason which we do not now know, or to a principle