part of it, as in the thigh; where it causes such prickings, pains, and depressions, that the actions and resolutions of the mind labour and limp with it. And even when it has grown strong with indulgence and custom, and breaks forth into acts (as if it had now accomplished its time and were fairly born and delivered), yet at first it is brought up for a time by Proserpine ; that is, it seeks hiding-places and keeps itself secret, and as it were underground; until throwing off all restraints of shame and fear, and growing bolder and bolder, it either assumes the mask of some virtue, or sets infamy itself at defiance. And it is most true that every passion of the more violent kind is as it were of doubtful sex; for it has at once the force of a man and the weakness of a woman. It is well said likewise that Bacchus died and came to life again; for the passions seem sometimes lulled to sleep, and as it were dead; yet can they never be trusted, no not though they be buried. For give them matter and opportunity and they will rise again.

It is a wise allegory too, that of the invention of the vine. For every passion is very ingenious and sagacious in discovering the things which nourish and foster itself. Now of all things known to man wine is the most powerful and efficacious in stimulating and inflaming every kind of excitement; serving as a common fuel to desires in general. Very elegantly too is passion or desire described as the subduer of provinces and the undertaker of an endless course of conquests. For it is never content with what it has got, but with infinite and insatiable appetite tries for something more, and ever craves for new triumphs. Tigers likewise are kept in the stables of the passions, and at times yoked

to their chariot; for when passion ceases to go on foot and comes to ride in its chariot, as in celebration of its victory and triumph over reason, then is it cruel, savage, and pitiless towards all that withstand or oppose it. Again there is humour in making those ridiculous demons dance about the chariot of Bacchus. For every passion of the more vehement kind produces motions in the eyes, and indeed in the whole countenance and gesture, which are uncomely, unsettled, skipping, and deformed; insomuch that when a man under the influence of any passion (as anger, scorn, love, or the like) seems most grand and imposing in his own eyes, to the lookers on he appears unseemly and ridiculous. It is true also that the Muses are seen in the train of passion; there being scarce any passion which has not some branch of learning to flatter it. For herein the majesty of the Muses suffers immensely from the license and wantonness of men's wits, turning those that should be the guides and standard-bearers of man's life into mere followers in the train and ministers to the pleasures of the passions.

Especially noble again is that part of the allegory which represents Bacchus as lavishing his love upon one whom another man had cast off. For most certain it is that passion ever seeks and aspires after that which experience has long since repudiated. And let all men who in pursuit and indulgence of their passions care not what price they pay for the enjoyment of them, know this: that whatever be the object of their pursuit be it honour or fortune or love or glory or knowledge, or what it may they are paying court to things cast off, things which many men in all times have tried, and upon trial rejected with disgust.

Nor is the consecration of Ivy to Bacchus without its mystery. For this has a double propriety. First, because ivy flourishes in the winter; next because it has the property of creeping and spreading about so many things, as trees, walls, buildings, &c. For as to the first, every passion flourishes and acquires vigour by being resisted and forbidden, as by reaction or antiperistasis; like the ivy by the cold of winter. As to the second, any predominant passion in the human spirit spreads itself like ivy round all its actions and resolves, so that you cannot find anything free from the embrace of its tendrils. Neither is it to be wondered at if superstitious rites are attributed to Bacchus ; for almost every insane passion grows rank in depraved religions, insomuch that the pollutions of heretics are worse than the Bacchanalian orgies of the heathen; whose superstitions likewise have been no less bloody than foul. Neither again is it wonderful that phrensies are thought to be inspired by Bacchus; since every passion, in the excess thereof, is like a short madness, and if it continue vehement and obstinate, commonly ends in insanity. And that circumstance of the tearing to pieces of Pentheus and Orpheus amid the orgies of Bacchus, has an evident allegorical meaning; for every ruling passion is extremely hostile and inveterate. against two things; whereof the one is curious inquisition; the other, free and wholesome advice. Nor does it make any difference if that inquisition be merely for the sake of looking on, as from a tree, without any illfeeling; nor again if the advice be tendered ever so sweetly and skilfully; for the orgies cannot upon any conditions endure either Pentheus or Orpheus. Lastly, the confusion of the persons of Jupiter and Bacchus

may well be taken in an allegorical sense. For noble and illustrious actions and glorious and distinguished services proceed sometimes from virtue, right reason, and magnanimity; and sometimes (however they are extolled and applauded without distinction) only from lurking passion and hidden desire; and thus the deeds of Bacchus are not easily distinguished from the deeds of Jupiter.

But we stay too long in the theatre; let us now pass to the palace of the mind, which we are to approach and enter with more reverence and attention.

OF

THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.

BOOK III.

CHAPTER I.

Division of Science into Theology and Philosophy. Division of Philosophy into three doctrines; concerning the Deity, concerning Nature, and concerning Man. Constitution of Primary Philosophy, as the common mother of all.

ALL History, excellent King, walks upon the earth, and performs the office rather of a guide than of a light; whereas Poesy is as a dream of learning; a thing sweet and varied, and that would be thought to have in it something divine; a character which dreams likewise affect. But now it is time for me to awake, and rising above the earth, to wing my way through the clear air of Philosophy and the Sciences.

The knowledge of man is as the waters. Some waters descend from above, and some spring from beneath; and in like manner the primary division of sciences is to be drawn from their sources; of which some are above in the heavens, and some here below. For all knowledge admits of two kinds of information; the one inspired by divine revelation, the other arising