punishment to cut out and exterminate the same ;-such persons are perhaps set upon the work by Pallas,—that is, by a certain keenness of discernment and severity of judgment which gives them a thorough insight into the fallacies and falsehoods of such errors, joined with hatred of evil and honest zeal ;-and for a time they commonly acquire great glory, and are by the vulgar (who can never like what is moderate) celebrated and almost worshipped as the only champion of truth and religion; all others appearing lukewarm and timid. And yet this glory and felicity seldom endures to the end; but almost every kind of violence, unless by an early death it escape the vicissitudes of fortune, is in the end unprosperous. And if it so happen that an alteration takes place in the state, whereby that proscribed and depressed sect gathers strength and raises its head, then are the zealous and contentious courses of these men condemned, their very name hated, and all their honours turned into reproach. The murder of Diomedes by the hands of his host alludes to the fact that difference in matter of religion breeds falsehood and treachery even among the nearest and dearest friends. And where it is said that the very grief and lamentations of his comrades were not tolerated, but visited with punishment, the meaning is that whereas almost every crime is open to pity, insomuch that they who hate the offence may yet in humanity commiserate the person and calamity of the offender, -and it is the extremity of evil to have the offices of compassion interdicted, yet where religion and piety are in question, the very expression of pity is noted and disliked. On the other hand, the sorrows and lamentations of the comrades of Diomedes, that is of those who are of the same sect and opinion, are commonly very piercing and musical, like the notes of swans, or birds of Diomedes. And this part of the allegory has a further meaning which is striking and noble ; namely that in the case of persons who suffer for religion the words which they speak at their death, like the song of the dying swan, have a wonderful effect and impression upon men's minds, and dwell long after in their memory and feelings.

XIX.
DÆDALUS ;

OR THE MECHANIC.

UNDER the person of Dædalus, a man of the greatest genius but of very bad character, the ancients drew a picture of mechanical skill and industry, together with its unlawful artifices and depraved applications. Dædalus had been banished for murdering a fellow-pupil and rival; yet found favour in his banishment with kings and states. Many and excellent works, as well in honour of the gods as for the adornment and ennobling of cities and public places, had been built and modelled by him; but it is for unlawful inventions that his name is most famous. For he it was who supplied the machine which enabled Pasiphae to satisfy her passion for the bull; so that the unhappy and infamous birth of the monster Minotaurus, which devoured the ingenuous youth, was owing to the wicked industry and pernicious genius of this man. Then to conceal the first mischief he added another, and for the security of this pest devised and constructed the Labyrinth; a work wicked in its end and destination, but in respect of art and contrivance excellent and admirable. Afterwards again, that his fame might not rest on bad arts only, and that he might be sought to for remedies as well as instruments of evil, he became the author likewise of that ingenious device of the clue, by which the mazes of the labyrinth should be retraced. This Dædalus was persecuted with great severity and diligence and inquisition by Minos; yet he always found both means of escape and places of refuge. Last of all, he taught his son Icarus how to fly ; who being a novice and ostentatious of his art fell from the sky into the water.

The parable may be interpreted thus. In the entrance is noted that envy which is strongly predominant in great artists and never lets them rest; for there is no class of men more troubled with envy, and that of the bitterest and most implacable character.

Then is touched the impolitic and improvident nature of the punishment inflicted; namely banishment. For it is the prerogative of famous workmen to be

acceptable all over the world, insomuch that to an excellent artisan exile is scarcely any punishment at all. For whereas other modes and conditions of life cannot easily flourish out of their own country, the admiration of an artisan spreads wider and grows greater among strangers and foreigners; it being the nature of men to hold their own countrymen, in respect of mechanical arts, in less estimation.

The passages which follow concerning the use of mechanical arts are plain enough. Certainly human life is much indebted to them, for very many things which concern both the furniture of religion and the ornament of state and the culture of life in general, are drawn from their store. And yet out of the same fountain come instruments of lust, and also instruments of death. For (not to speak of the arts of procurers) the most exquisite poisons, also guns, and such like engines of destruction, are the fruits of mechanical invention; and well we know how far in cruelty and destructiveness they exceed the Minotaurus himself.

Very beautiful again is that allegory of the labyrinth; under which the general nature of mechanics is represented. For all the more ingenious and exact mechanical inventions may, for their subtlety, their intricate variety, and the apparent likeness of one part to another, which scarcely any judgment can order and discriminate, but only the clue of experiment, be compared to a labyrinth. Nor is the next point less to the purpose; viz. that the same man who devised the mazes of the labyrinth disclosed likewise the use of the clue. For the mechanical arts may be turned either way, and serve as well for the cure as for the hurt and have power for the most part to dissolve their own spell.

Moreover the unlawful contrivances of art, and indeed the arts themselves, are often persecuted by Minos; that is by the laws; which condemn them and forbid people to use them. Nevertheless they are secretly preserved, and find everywhere both hiding-places and entertainment; as was well observed by Tacitus in his times, in a case not much unlike; where speaking of the mathematicians and fortune-tellers, he calls them a class of men which in our state will always be retained and always prohibited. And yet these unlawful and curious arts do in tract of time, since for the most part they fail to perform their promises, fall out of estimation, as Icarus from the sky, and come into contempt, and through the very excess of ostentation perish. And certainly if the truth must be told, they are not so easily bridled by law as convicted by their proper vanity.

XX.
ERICTHONIUS;

OR IMPOSTURE.

THE poets tell us that Vulcan wooed Minerva, and in the heat of desire attempted to force her; that in the struggle which followed his seed was scattered on the ground; from which was born Ericthonius, a man well made and handsome in the upper parts of the body, but with thighs and legs like an eel, thin and deformed: and that he, from consciousness of this deformity, first invented chariots, whereby he might shew off the fine part of his body and hide the mean.

This strange and prodigious story seems to bear this meaning: that Art (which is represented under the person of Vulcan, because it makes so much use of fire) when it endeavours by much vexing of bodies to force Nature to its will and conquer and subdue her (for Nature is described under the person of Minerva on account of the wisdom of her works) rarely attains the particular end it aims at; and yet in the course of contriving and endeavouring, as in a struggle, there fall out by the way certain imperfect births and lame works, specious to look at but weak and halting in use: yet impostors parade them to the world with a great deal of false shew in setting forth, and carry them about as in triumph. Such things may often be observed among chemical productions, and among mechanical subtleties and novelties; the rather because men being too intent upon their end to recover themselves from the errors of their way, rather struggle with Nature than woo her embraces with due observance and attention,

XXI.

DEUCALION;

OR RESTORATION.

THE poets relate that when the inhabitants of the old world were utterly extinguished by the universal deluge, and none remained except Deucalion and Pyrrha, these two, being inflamed with a pious and noble desire to restore the human race, consulted the oracle and received answer to the following effect: they should have their wish if they took their mother's bones and cast them behind their backs. This struck them at first with great sorrow and despair, for the face of nature being laid level by the deluge, to seek for a sepulchre would be a task altogether endless. But at last they found that the stones of the earth (the earth being regarded as the mother of all things) were what the oracle meant.

This fable seems to disclose a secret of nature, and to correct an error which is familiar to the human mind. For man in his ignorance concludes that the renewal and restoration of things may be effected by means of their own corruption and remains; as the Phoenix rises out of her own ashes; which is not so ; for matters of this kind have already reached the end of their course, and can give no further help towards the first stages of it: so we must go back to more common principles.

XXII.
NEMESIS;

OR THE VICISSITUDE OF THINGS.

NEMESIS, according to the tradition, was a goddess, the object of veneration to all, to the powerful and fortunate of fear also. They say she was the daughter of Night and Ocean. She is represented with wings, and a crown: an ashen spear in her right hand; a phial, with Ethiops in it, in her left; sitting upon a stag.

The parable may be understood thus. The very name Nemesis plainly signifies Revenge or Retribution: for it was the office and function of this goddess to interrupt the felicity of fortunate persons, and let no man be constantly and perpetually happy, but step in like a tribune of the people with her veto; and not to chastise insolence only, but to see also that prosperity however innocent and moderately borne had its turn of adversity: as if no one of human race could be admitted to the banquets of the gods, except in derision. And certainly when I have read that chapter of Caius Plinius in which he has collected the misfortunes and miseries of Augustus Cæsar,-him whom I thought of all men the most fortunate, and who had moreover a certain art of using and enjoying his fortune, and in whose mind were no traces of swelling, of lightness, of softness, of confusion, or of melancholy-(insomuch that he had once determined to die voluntarily),-great and powerful must this goddess be, I have thought, when such a victim was brought to her altar.

The parents of this goddess were Ocean and Night; that is, the vicissitude of things, and the dark and secret judgment of God. For the vicissitude of things is aptly represented by the Ocean, by reason of its perpetual flowing and ebbing; and secret providence is rightly set forth under the image of Night. For this Nemesis of the Darkness (the human not agreeing with the divine judgment) was matter of observation even among the heathen.

Ripheus fell too,

Than whom a juster and a truer man

In all his dealings was not found in Troy.
But the gods judged not so.

Nemesis again is described as winged; because of the sudden and unforeseen revolutions of things. For in all the records of time it has commonly been found that great and wise men have perished by the dangers which they most

despised. So was it with M. Cicero; who when warned by Decimus Brutus to beware of Octavius Cæsar's bad faith and evil mind towards him, only answered, I am duly grateful to you, my dear Brutus, for giving me that information, though it is but folly.

Nemesis is distinguished also with a crown; in allusion to the envious and malignant nature of the vulgar; for when the fortunate and the powerful fall, the people commonly exult and set a crown upon the head of Nemesis.

The spear in her right hand relates to those whom she actually strikes and transfixes. And if there be any whom she does not make victims of calamity and misfortune, to them she nevertheless exhibits that dark and ominous spectre in her left for mortals must needs be visited, even when they stand at the summit of felicity, with images of death, diseases, misfortunes, perfidies of friends, plots of enemies, changes of fortune, and the like; even like those Ethiops in the phial. It is true that Virgil, in describing the battle of Actium, adds elegantly concerning Cleopatra :

Midmost the Queen with sounding timbrel cheers
Her armies to the fight; nor dreams the while
Of those two aspics at her back.

But it was not long before, turn which way she would, whole troops of Ethiops met her eyes.

Lastly, it is wisely added that Nemesis is mounted on a stag: for the stag is a very long lived animal; and it may be that one who is cut off young may give Nemesis the slip; but if his prosperity and greatness endure for any length of time, he is without doubt a subject of Nemesis, and carries her as it were on his back.

XXIII.
ACHELOUS ;

OR THE BATTLE.

THE ancients relate that when Hercules and Achelous disputed which should marry Deianira, they agreed to decide the question by a fight. Now Achelous began by trying a variety of different shapes, which he was at liberty to do, and presented himself before Hercules at last in the shape of a savage and roaring bull, and so prepared for the combat. Hercules on the other hand retaining his wonted human figure, fell upon him. A close fight followed; the end of which was that Hercules broke off one of the bull's horns: whereupon he, greatly hurt and terrified, to redeem his own horn gave Hercules the horn of Amalthea, or Abundance, in exchange.

The fable alludes to military expeditions. The preparations for war on the part defensive (which is represented by Achelous) is various and multiform. For the form assumed by the invader is one and simple, consisting of an army only, or perhaps a fleet. Whereas a country preparing to receive an enemy on its own ground sets to work in an infinity of ways; fortifies one town, dismantles another, gathers the people from the fields and villages into cities and fortified places; builds a bridge here, breaks down a bridge there; raises, and distributes, 'forces and provisions; is busy about rivers, harbours, gorges of hills, woods, and numberless other matters; so that it may be said to try a new shape and put on a new aspect every day; and when at last it is fully fortified and prepared, it represents to the life the form and threatening aspect of a fighting bull. The invader meanwhile is anxious for a battle, and aims chiefly at that; fearing to be 'left without supplies in an enemy's country; and if he win the battle, and so 'break as it were the enemy's horn, then he brings it to this: that the enemy, 'losing heart and reputation, must, in order to recover himself and repair his forces, fall back into his more fortified positions, leaving his cities and lands to the conqueror to be laid waste and pillaged; which is indeed like giving him Amalthea's horn.

XXIV.
DIONYSUS; 6

OR DESIRE.

THEY say that Semele, Jupiter's paramour, made him take an inviolable oath to grant her one wish, whatever it might be, and then prayed that he would come to her in the same shape in which he was used to come to Juno. The consequence was that she was scorched to death in his embrace. The infant in her womb was taken by its father and sewed up in his thigh, until the time of gestation should be accomplished. The burden made him limp, and the infant, because while it was carried in his thigh it caused a pain or pricking, received the name of Dionysus. After he was brought forth he was sent to Proserpina for some years to nurse; but as he grew up his face was so like a woman's, that it seemed doubtful of which sex he was. Moreover he died and was buried for a time, and came to life again not long after. In his early youth he discovered and taught the culture of the vine, and therewithal the composition and use of wine, which had not been known before: whereby becoming famous and illustrious, he subjugated the whole world and advanced to the furthest limits of India. He was borne in a chariot drawn by tigers; about him tripped certain deformed demons called Cobali,-Acratus and others. The Muses also joined his train. He took to wife Ariadne, whom Theseus had abandoned and deserted. His sacred tree was the Ivy. He was accounted likewise the inventor and founder of sacred rites and ceremonies; yet such as were fanatical and full of corruption, and cruel besides. He had power to excite phrensy. At least it was by women excited to phrensy in his orgies that two illustrious persons, Pentheus and Orpheus, are said to have been torn to pieces; the one having climbed a tree to see what they were doing; the other in the act of striking his lyre. Moreover the actions of this god are often confounded with those of Jupiter.

The fable seems to bear upon morals, and indeed there is nothing better to be found in moral philosophy. Under the person of Bacchus is described the nature of Desire, or passion and perturbation. For the mother of all desire, even the most noxious, is nothing else than the appetite and aspiration for apparent good: and the conception of it is always in some unlawful wish, rashly granted before it has been understood and weighed. But as the passion warms, its mother (that is, the nature of good), not able to endure the heat of it, is destroyed and perishes in the flame. Itself while still in embryo remains in the human soul (which is its father and represented by Jupiter), especially in the lower part of the soul, as in the thigh; where it is both nourished and hidden; and where it causes such prickings, pains, and depressions in the mind, that its resolutions and actions labour and limp with it. And even after it has grown strong by indulgence and custom, and breaks forth into acts, it is nevertheless brought up for a time with Proserpina; that is to say, it seeks hiding-places, and keeps itself secret and as it were underground; until casting off all restraints of shame and fear and growing bold, it either assumes the mask of some virtue or sets infamy itself, at defiance. Most true also it is that every passion of the more vehement kind is as it were of doubtful sex, for it has at once the force of the man and the weakness of the woman. It is notably said too that Bacchus came to life again after death. For the passions seem sometimes to be laid asleep and extinguished; but no trust can be placed in them, no not though they be buried; for give them matter and occasion, they rise up again.

It is a wise parable too, that of the invention of the Vine; for every passion is ingenious and sagacious in finding out its own stimulants. And there is nothing we know of so potent and effective as wine, in exciting and inflaming perturbations of every kind; being a kind of common fuel to them all. Very elegantly too is Passion represented as the subjugator of provinces, and the undertaker of an endless course of conquest. For it never rests satisfied with what it has, but goes on and on with infinite insatiable appetite panting after new triumphs.

6 For a slightly enlarged version of this fable, see pp. 450-452.