CHAPTER XIII.

BAGONIANA.
"His Lordship was a good Poet,^ but conoeal'd, as appears by •Letters.*"— -4iiAr«y.
The parallels between Bacon's writings and Shakespeare's are not only endless, but have been so fully treated by Mrs Henry Pott» and Mr Donnelly in his recent great work, that it seems super- fluous to add anything further. It would be easy to fill another volume of fresh ones, and they will continue to be discovered the deeper both writers are studied. We therefore have endeavoured to avoid repetition, and have only added those which we think are striking as parallels, which we may call (like the following) double as to identical names, and threefold as to these names being found connected with the same strain or line of thought. In Hamlet (graveyard scene) we have the following : —
*' Ham, To what base uses we may return, Horatio ! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till he find it stopping a bung-hole 1
Hot, *T were to consider too curiously, to consider so.
Hajn, No, faith, not a jot ; but to follow him thither with tnodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it. As thus ; Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust ; the dust is earth ; of
1 With regard to the estimation of poets daring Bacon's time, hear his friend Selden : — " Selden, a scholar of profound erudition, has given as his opinion concerning poets. ' It is ridiculous for a lord to print verses ; he may make them to please himself. If a man in a private chamber twirls his band-strings, or plays with a rush to please himself, it is well enough ; but if he should go into Fleet Street, and sit apon a stall and twirl a band-string, or play with a rush, then all the boys in the street would laugh at him.' "— D'IsraeU's " Curiosities of Literature," L 433.
BACONIANA. 241
earth we make loam : And why of that loam, whereto he was con- verted, might they not stop a beer-barrel ?
Imperial Coesar, dead, and tum'd to clay. Might stop a hole to keep the wind away : O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! ''
Note here that Alexandej' and Ccesar (Augustus Ccesar) are brought in both in sequence ; and now read this from (Century viiL, 771) Bacon's "Natural History," where we find Augustus Ccesar (Imperial Caesar) brought in with Alexander as they are in the passage from Hamlet. What are the odds against two different writers thus similarly connoting two Emperors (who lived at different ages), upon the same subject, in the same manner ? " But I find in Plutarch and others, that when Augustus CcBsar visited the Sepulchre of Alexander the Great in Alexandria he found the body to keep his dimension ; but withal that notwithstanding all the embalming (which no doubt was of the best), the body was so tender, as Caesar touching but the nose of it defaced it."
But this is not the end of the parallel. The entire experiment, which is touching " tlie conservation of dead bodies" is just the same subject that Hamlet makes inquiry upon of the first Clown in the scene quoted.
** Ham, How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot ?"
This is the entire subject-matter of inquiry that Bacon makes in this same experiment 771. "It is strange, and well to be noted, how long carcasses have continued uncorrupt, and in their former dimensions, as appeareth in the Mummies of Egypt^ having lasted, as is conceived (some of them) three thousand years."
Then Bacon discusses the three causes of putrefaction. The remedies are first to exclude the air. Lastly, he says : — " There is a fourth Remedy also, which is, that if the body to be pre- served be of bulk, as a Corps is, then the body that incloseth it must have a virtue to draw forth and dry the moisture of the in-
Q
242 B AC ONI ANA.
ward body; for else the puirefadiofi wiU play within, thoagh nothing issue forth."
Now these two last lines form the pith of the Clown's reply to Hamlet's question, as to " How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot 1 "
'* 1 Clo. Taith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we have many pocky corses Dow-a-days, that will scarce hold the laying in), he will last you some eight year, or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.
Ham. Why he more than another?
1 Clo. Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that he will keep out water a great while ; and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a scull now : this scull has lain in the earth three-and-twenty years."
The Clown gives the same reply or explanation as Bacon, i.e., that " moisture" or, in other words, water " is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body." Now do we not see from the very com- mencement of the scene to the end the same inquiry, the same reply f and Alexander and Caesar brought in at the close of both quotations ) It is a miracle if two different men wrote these two passages !
But this is such a curious subject that we must continue it. Bacon writes (from the same experiment, 771): — " I remember Livy doth relate, that there were found at a time, two co£Bns of lead in a tomb, whereof the one contained the body of Ring Numa^ it being some four hundred years after his death ; and the other his Books of Sacred Rites and Ceremonies, and the Dis- cipline of the Pontiffs. And that in the Coffin that had the body, there was nothing at all to be seen but a little light Cinders about the sides ; but in the Coffin that had the Books, they were found as fresh as if they had been but newly written, being written in Parchment, and covered over with Watch- candles of Wax three or four-fold." What a close study Bacon seems to have given this subject, what a subtle, searching, pro- found Mind is this, and we do not know that he had not perhaps a purport in making a study of this solemn subject ! In all this there is a strange resemblance to the history of Christian Eosy-
BACONIANA. 243
cross and his grave, which we now give from the '' Fama Fra- ternitatis" : —
*' The vault was a heptagon. Every side was five feet broad and eight feet high. It was illuminated by an artificial sun. In the centre was placed instead of a grave-stone a circular altar with a little plate of brass, whereon these words were inscribed : This grave, an abstract of the whole world, I made for myself whilst yet living (A. C. R. C. Hoc Universi compendium vivus mihi sepulchrum feci). About the margin was — To me Jesus is all in all (Jesus mihi omnia). In the centre were four figures enclosed in a circle hj this revolving legend : Nequaquam vacuum legis jugum. Libertas Evangelii. Dei gloria intacta. (The empty yoke of the law is made void. The liberty of the gospel. The unsullied glory of God.) Each of the seven sides of the vault had a door opening into a chest; which chest, besides the secret books of the order and the Focabularium of Paracelsus, contained also mirrors — little bells — burning lamps — marvellous mechanisms of music, &c., all so contrived that after the lapse of many centuries, if the whole order should have perished, it might be re-established by means of this vault. Under the altar, upon raising the brazen tablet, the brothers found the body of Itosycross, without taint or corruptioTL The right band held a book written upon vellum with golden letters : this book, which is called T., has since become the most precious jewel of the society next after the Bible."
We see that the body of Christian Rosycross was preserved " without taint or corruption " — ^a subject we have found Bacon writing upon. And we find books buried with him, after the same fashion described by Bacon of Numa.
It seems to us as if we could almost trace the hand of Bacon
even to the curse upon Shakespeare's supposed tombstone at
Stratford : —
'* Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear To dig the dust encloeed here : Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.''
244 BACONIANA,
^' Mr F. C. Heaven, alluding to the same epitaph, writes : * I was struck with the resemhlance of two lines in the quotation from Bacon's " Eetired Courtier " to those on Shakspere's tomb at Stratford. Bacon's lines in his " Retired Courtier " to which I refer are : —
' Blest be the hearts that wiah my Sovereigne weU ! Curst be the soul that thinks her any wrung ! '
While those on Shakspere's tomb read : —
' Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.'
Does not this similarity point to Bacon as the author of the quaint lines in Stratford Church generally attributed to Shak- spere himself 1*"
There is certainly a certain resemblance in the style, because we see that in both Bacon's lines, and Shakespeare's epitaph, the words " Bltsi " and " Cuniy^ begin and follow in the same order, opening each sentence of the two lines in a striking way. Both possess the identical '^ Blest be the" and both the same *^Cursi be" Both again repeat and bring in the word ^*that" at the same turn in the sentence, and for the same reason. At anyrate there are deep grounds for supposing Bacon to have been a Bosi- crucian, and the monument of Shakspeare at Stratford is decidedly Eosicrucian. The two famous pillars flank the bust, and above are the two Cupids of life and death, which are well-known Rosicrucian emblems, as inverse factors. The two Cupids are seated upon the top of the monument One holds an inverted torch, and with closed eyes, rests his hand upon a skull. This is the genius of Death, who with inverted brand typifies the " put out" or quenched brand (or flame) of existence. But he is a Cupid nevertheless, as is also his facsimile, who sits on the other side, with eyes open staring plainly, with his right hand resting upon a spade / The spade is a Rosicrucian emblem of the phallus. It is the instrument of sowing, or placing seed in mother-earth, with the result of new-life, rebirth ! Cupid (as Love) is a seed
BACONIAN A, 245
bearer, for he causes new life to spring out of Death. It is for this reason that he reclaims from Death — gives immortality — the immortality of Nature and of the souL His spade is the emblem of the seed sower, and the seed is the source of the new lifa We find Shakespeare alluding to the spade, aa arm^^ very pro- foundly in Hamlet. The original of Spade is Spada,^ a sword, whence we see the source of its name lies closely connected with arms. The sword and sheath, even to the name of the latter ( Vagina) y have stood for emblems which the reader will readily guess. The spade has no sheath, except it be buried in the earth, when it becomes the means of fertilization.
"Come, my spade. There is no aucieiit gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers : they hold up Adam's profession.
Sec, Clo, Was he a gentleman ?
First Clo. A* was the first that ever bore arm».
Sec. Clo. Why, he had none.
First Clo. What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the Scripture. The Scripture says * Adam digged : ' could he dig withotU arms?''
Which recalls —
" When Adam delved and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman ? *'
There can be no question upon the Kosicrucian character and symbolism of these two Cupids upon the Stratford monument. Love and Death as aivtitlieta, yet holding out to each other pro-
^ " Hargreave Jennings writes {RotsicrudanSf their Rites and Mysteries^ p. 244) ; — *Fig. 175 ia a very curious design from Sylvanus Morgan, an old herald. Above is the spade, signifying here the/>Aa^iM; and below is the distaff, or instrument of woman's work, meaning the answering member, or Yoni ; these are united by the snake. We here perceive the meaning of the rhymed chorus sung by Wat Tyler's mob : *' When Adam delved " (with his spade), " and Eve span " (contributing her (producing) part of the work), "where was then the Gentleman?"— or what, under these ignoble conditions, makes difference or degree? It is supposed that Shakespeare plays upon this truth when he makes his clown in Hamlet observe, "They" {i.e., Adam and Eve) "were the first who ever bore arms." By a reference to the foot of the figure, we shall see what these arms were, and discover male and female resemblances in the shape of the man's " escutcheon " and the woman's diamond-shaped " lozenge." ' "
246 BACONIANA.
mise of rebirth and immortality, are emblems belonging to the Rosicrucians, who give a motto to one of Lord Lytton's chapters in " Zanoni."
'' From the Sarcophagus and the urn I awake the Genius of the extinguished Torch, and so closely does its shape resemble Eros, that at moments I scarcely know which of ye dictate to me, Love 1 Deaih / " (" Zanoni.")
With regard to Bacon's skull, Dr Ingleby writes ("Shake- speare's Bones," p. 27) : —
*' Before addressing myself to the principal matter of this essay, namely the question whether we should not attempt to recover Shakespeare's skull, I may as well note that the remains of the great philosopher, whom so many regard as Shakespeare's very self, or else his aUer ego, were not allowed to remain un- molested in their grave in St Michael's Church, St Albans. Thomas Fuller, in his Worthies, relates as follows : ' Since I have read that his grave being occasionally opened [!] his scull (the rclique of civil veneration) was by one King, a Doctor of Physick, made the object of scorn and contempt; but he who then derided the dead has since become the laughingstock of the living.' This, being quoted by a correspondent in Notes and Queries, elicited from Mr C. Le Poer Kennedy, of St Albans, an account of a search that had been made for Bacon's remains, on the occasion of the interment of the last Lord Verulam. 'A partition wall was pulled down, and the search extended into the part of the vault immediately under the monument, hut no remains were found,* On the other hand, we have the record of his express wish to be buried there. I am afraid the doctor, who is said to have become the laughingstock of the living, has entirely faded out of men's minds and memories."
We have, however, heard this contradicted by the present Earl Verulam's lodge-keeper, Simpson, who assured us he had been in the vault below the chancel of St Michael's Church, and had seen Lord Bacon's coffin, and read the inscription. He related an account of the opening of the vault at the time of the
BACONIANA. 247
restoration of St Michaers Church, when the brother of the late Charles Dickens and others descended and inspected the tomb. He declares he saw an inscription upon a coffin which identified the remains of Lord Bacon. But evidence of this sort must be taken with circumspection, nor does it for a moment prove that the coffin has not been desecrated. However, we are not in- clined to attach any weight to Fuller's words.
We find John Warren, in some dedicatory lines to Shake- speare, vrriting thus (after Shakespeare's death). The original is in the British Museum. (Republished by A. R Smith, 1885, 250 copies only.)
*
" What, lofty Shake^pearef art againe revived ? And Vtrlnus^ like now show'st thyself twice liv'd, Tis love that thus to thee is showne. The labours kisy the glory still thine owne."
This comparison to Virbius is curious, and the last line seems to indicate that *' the labours" were another's (his), though Shake- speare ** still" owns the glory. The third line hints at some indulgence accorded to Shakespeare through " love" : —
** 'Tis love that thus to thee is showne, The labours his, the glory still thine owne."
Surely these strange lines hint that Shakespeare is deriving glory from another's labours, an indulgence that is granted through love ? Or take this epigram, written by Ben Jonson (Number 51), and please note that this "poor poet ape" is evidently Shakespeare, inasmuch as he is called " our chief: " —
" Ok Poet Ape.
" * Poor Poet Ape,'* that would be thought our chief. Whose works are e'en the frippery of wit,
' Virbius, an ancient king of Aricia, and a favourite of Diana, who, when he had died, called him to life again, and entrusted him to the care (if Egeria. The fact of his heing a favourite of Diana's seems to have led the Romans to identify him with Hyppolytus. — " Classical Diet." ' Compare —
'* The fox, the ape, and the humble-bee, Were still at odds, being but three.
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From brokage has become so bold a thief, That we, the robVd, have rage and pity it.
At first he made low shifts, would pick and glean, Buy the reversion of old plays."
This is evidently a dramatist who buys " the reversion of old plays," and though the " frippery of wit" can hardly be applied to the so-called Shakespearian plays, we are not certain Shake- speare did not write something to keep up his false character as playwright.
We all know that Shakespeare was termed the " Sweet swan of Avon." Compare the following deep reference by Bacon to swans as having imperishable immortality : —
*' For Lives ; I do find strange that these times have so little esteemed the virtues of the times, as that the writing of lives should be no more frequent. For although there be not many sovereign princes or absolute commanders, and that states are most collected into monarchies, yet there are many worthy personages that deserve better than dispersed report or barren elegies. For herein the invention of one of the late poets is proper, and doth well enrich the ancient fiction : for he feigneth that at the end of the thread or web of every man's life there was a little medal containing the person's name, and that Time waited upon the shears ; and so soon as the thread was cut, caught the medals, and carried them to the river of Lethe ; and about the bank there were many birds flying up and down, that would get the medals, and carry ihem in their beak a little while, and then let them fall into the river : only there were a few swans,
m 9
" Arm, Until the goose came out of door, Staying the odds by adding four."
" Cost. O marry me to one Frances : — I sn.ell some V envoy ^ some goose in this. " — (Loves Labour's Lost, Act iii. sc. 2. )
Now in Lovers Labour's Lost, there is no character or person of the name of Frances at all. Bacon's Christian name was Francis, flmd we have a shrewd suspicion that the humble- liee (B) may probably be the humble Bacon, who surrendered tlie fruits of his modesty to the Poet Ape — his right of authorship.
BACONIANA. 249
which if they got a name^ would carry it to a temple, where it was consecrated."
Does not Bacon seem to be thinking of the '' Sweet Swan of Avon" 1 But, according to the clever critics, Bacon had never heard of Shakespeare or his works ! Yet both are friends — intimate friends — with Lord Southampton. At any rate, it is curious Bacon avoids — so carefully avoids — alluding to Shakespeare. Why does he do so 1 Examine the above passage. We find at once that " about the bank (of Lethe) there were many birds" fiying up and down, " that would get the medals," which suggest the pick- ing up and seizing of another s fame, for each of these medals carried the " person's name," the titie authors name, which they carried '* in their beak a lUtle while " / Then comes that curious conclusion (which immediately recalls, with its swanlike compari- son, Shakespeare), " only there were a few swans, which if they got a name," would carry it to a temple, where it was conse- crated " ! In these words Bacon seems to be hinting at the difficulty of a right identification of authorship, of the real swan's poetic rights, carried by other birds for a little while, but finally, ** if the name could be got at," rescued from the oblivion and consecrated in a temple. Temple House is the name to this day by which the old ruins of Bacon's house at Gorhambury are known. Shakespeare's arms contain a falcon.
The Induction,
{Taming of the Shrew.)
We have a striking hint given to us in the portrait of Christopher Sly, of somebody outside tlie plays, bearing dignities and honours that in no wise belong to him. It is worthy of par- ticular attention that Sly is outside the play, and in nowise con- tributes to the unity thereof. This Induction has puzzled and must perplex every profound student of the plays. Because it is a violation of the unity of dramatic presentation, and if left out would in no way affect the Taming of the Shrew as a perfect play
2 so BACONIAN A.
in itself. Nor can we believe the author of such art as this to have been ignorant of the incongruity and apparently purposeless addition of this induction. It seems to us rather that Sly is placed outside the play as a false, Lord and master of the players who present it, and holds this false position just as long as the play and its outer action lasts. It has never been remarked how strange it seems that Sly disappears from the play altogether after the first scene. This is curious, because, as we shall pre- sently show, in the original story from which the idea of the induction is borrowed, the joke played upon Sly's original is brought to a conclusion. There is something singularly striking in the way Sly is forgotten, yd left to ike ima^natimi always in the false j>osition of playing Lord, and presiding over plays and players belonging to another ; and mark it, a Lord. We intend to present some pregnant parallels which bring the identity of Shakespeare to Sly suspiciously together. For example, Shake- speare's wife's maiden name was Anne Hathaway, and we find Sly exclaiming, " by Saint Anne I "
" Ist Serv, My lord, you nod ; you do not mind the play. Sly. Yes, by Saint Anne do L A good matter surely.
Comes there any more of it ? Page, My lord, 't is but begun. Sly. 'T is a very excellent piece of work, madam lady.
'Would 't were done ! "
After this droll and humorous interlude, or interruption, no more is heard of Sly, and he disappears from the play as if he had never been introduced at all. Now in the original story, from which the incident of the induction is borrowed, we are presented with the restoration of Sly to his former and real con- dition of common life, as forming no small part of the especial point and humour of the joke played him by the Duke Philip. I speak of The Waking Man's Dream. The dinouemmt of the trick played Sly concludes as follows : —
"Then the right Duke, who had put himselfe among the throng of his Officers to have the pleasure of this mummery.
BACONIAN A. 251
commanded that this sleeping man should be stript oat of his brave cloathes, and cloathed againe in his old ragges, and so sleeping carried and lajd in the same place where he was taken up the night before. This was presently done, and there did he snort all the night long, not taking any hurt either from the hardnesse of the stones or the night ayre, so well was his stomacke filled with good preservatives. Being awakened in the morning by some passenger, or it maye bee by some that the good Duke Philip had thereto appointed, ha I said he, my friends, what have you donel you have rob'd mee of a King- dome, and have taken mee out of the sweetest and happiest dreame that ever man could have fallen into. Then, very well re- membring all the particulars of what had passed the day before, he related unto them, from point to point, all that had happened unto him, still thinking it assuredly to bee a dreama Being re- turned home to his house, hee entertaines his wife, neighbours, and friends, with this his dreame, as hee thought: the truth whereof being at last published by the mouthes of those Cour- tiers who had been present at this pleasant recreation, the good man could not beleeve it, thinking that for sport they had framed this history upon his dreame; but when Duke Philip, who would have the full contentment of this pleasant tricke, had shewed him the bed wherein he lay, the cloathes which he had wome, the persons who had served him, the Hall wherein he had eaten, the gardens and galleries wherein he had walked, hardly could hee be induced to beleeve what hee saw, imagining that all this was meere inchantment and illusion."
Now why, I ask, have we this amusing termination omitted ) Why is Sly left in the play,- as it were, still in his false position of Lo7'd over the players ?
Let us examine some other parallels. In the recent corres- pondence in the newspapers upon the authorship of the plays, much has been made of the reference made by Sly to Wincot or (Wilmecdte), a village in the neighbourhood of Stratford, to show that the author must have been Shakespeare, and
c
I
252 BACONIANA.
acquainted well with Warwickshire. We think this allasion to Wincot proves conclusively thai Sly is a portrait of Shakespeare^ but it suggests powerfully that he did not write the plays, bat was set up in Bacon's place by Bacon, in just such a way as Sly is set up ^ a Lord. Here is another point which seems to as worthy attention.
" Sly, Ye are a baggage : the Slys are no rogues ; look in the chron- icles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore paucas palla- bris ; let the world slide : sessa !''
Is there no hit implied in these words at Shakespeare's applica- tion for arms, and his claims to be by descent a gentleman 1 As Mr Donnelly has well pointed out in his recent work, Shake- speare put forward all sorts of claims to birth and family, to which he had about as much real right as Sly. Then, in the drunkenness of Sly, is there no ironical portrait of the man of Stratford ? We know that he died from the results of a drink- ing bout^ and Mr Donnelly certainly accuses him, with some show of reason, of being a free liver, if no worse. It is hardly fair to infer that because we have his end associated with revelry and this tale of a " drinking bout," that he was another Sly. But the story, which has never been contradicted, leaves a dis- agreeable impression on the mind that he must have been a hard drinker.
There must be some truth about a tradition of this sort, which has handed itself down to us undenied by any contemporary evidence. But to return to Sly's boast of illustrious descent of birth; is it not curious that a ^^ peasant" should be made to lay claim to anything of the sort ?
*' How my men will stay themselves from laughter When they do homage to this simple peasants*
We find that Sly is only a "simple peasant," and it is very strange and singular to find the author of the play, thus placing in his mouth, the sort of speech which a peasant would never make, and which (nobody knew better than the writer) is quite
B A com ANA. 253
beside the mark in Sly's mouth ! Now it may be objected that Shakespeare was no peasant, yet we think anybody who has seen the house he was born in, or the cottage where he lived with his wife, Anne Hathaway, must be forced to the conclusion that they both are only peasants' cottages. It seems to us that before Shakespeare went to London he lived the life of a simple peasant, poaching and drinking 3 and whatever he became afterwards, he was no better at Stratford than a peasant in Home and sur- roundings.
Is there no possible joke of the " Hang, Hog," Bacon style in the following ? —
*^Lord. O Monstrous beast ! how like a 8wine he lies !
Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image !
Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
What think you, if he were conveyed to bed,
Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed.
And brave attendants near him when he wakes.
Would not the beggar then forget himself ? "
" How like a swine lie lies I " Is there no indirect sly hint here to take us to Bacon 1 How like Bacon he lies I We admit the seeming extravagance of the remote parallel, but it is well to note every trifle in this extraordinary art In Shakespeare's age the common name for pigs and swine was '' Bacons."
There is something peculiarly adapted to our argument even in the name Sly. If the dy Shakespeare was guardedly keeping his tongue silent upon a matter which must touch him so nearly as the authorship of the plays, there is something in this name that hits ofif his position as reputed author and false author very admirably indeed. We find in the induction that he takes very quickly to his false honours, and believes himself (in a very brief time) the actual Lord, he is persuaded he is. There is some- thing unnatural in that. No one could thus be persuaded that their entire life was a lie, or a dream, unless they had an element of slyness in them, which we see Sly undoubtedly has. For our- selves, we cannot imagine a picture better painted to pourtray a
254 B AC ONI ANA,
false authorship in relation to plays than this induction of Sly. He is brought in in relationship to plays and players or actors. And that was also Shakespeare's position over actors, ^eho probably were in the pay of others.
Lord Bacon's coat of arms contains a double star. We should like to know the history and origin of these arms 1 Every trifle concerning him is interesting to those who believe that he is Shakespeare's double, and that to the star he already possesses, he promises to add another one of even greater lustre still. Over the house Goethe was bom in at Frankfort^ there was a lyre, a curi- ous coincidence (if only that), to mark as it were the birthplace of one who was to take Apollo's lyre as his own. Everything in connection with Bacon's life is extraordinary. If ever there was a prophet who prophesied truly, it was him. He foretold the revolution which was to follow sixteen years after his death. Spedding writes : —
*^ Another thing in the paper before us, not to be found else- where in Bacon's writings, is the prophecy of civU wars ; which he anticipates propter mores guosdam turn ita pridem introductos : a prediction well worthy of remark, especially as being uttered so early as the beginning of James the First's reign."
What Dr Rawley relates about the influence of the moon at her change (passion) or eclipse is curious, and as Sawley was Bacon's intimate chaplain, we have every reason to believe what he says : —
*' It may seem the moon had some principal place in the figure of his nativity : for the moon was never in her passion, or eclipsed, but he was surprised with a sudden fit of fainting ; and that though he observed not nor took any previous knowledge of the eclipse thereof ; and as soon as the eclipse ceased, he was restored to his former strength again." (" Life.")
It appears that Bacon studied Astronomy, and had an obser- vatory at Gorhambury, the ruins of which were, not many years ago, still visible. The British Association, when at St Albans, were very anxious to excavate, but I was told the proprietor
\
BACONIAN A. 255
would not give the necessary consent. It is evident from some annotations upon the title page of the original MSS. (Harl. MSS. 6463) that Bacon studied or helieved in Astrology. This seems quite incredihle, we admit, from the style and character of his mind and works, which everywhere denounce Alchemistry, Astrology, and every non-positive science. At the bottom of the title page of "Valerius Terminus of the Interpretation by Nature," with the annotations of Hermes Stella,^ we find in Bacon's hand : —
There is, no doubt, some connection between the title and second title, and these astronomical notes. Both are strange titles, and unexplainable, declares Mr Spedding, who quotes Bacon's own words as to his manner of publishing. " Whereby it shall not be to the capacity nor taste of all, but shall as it were single and adopt his reader." Stella was therefore to throw a kind of starlight on the subject, enough to prevent the student's losing his way, but not much more.
Terminus seems to indicate some finality or end connected with Astrology or a star — Stella. Curiously we find, in the twenty- sixth Sonnet, reference to a star in reference to some discovery to be made with regard to the author. We do not adduce these
' Mercury. Called in Assyrian Nabu {Neho\ t.e., ** Proclaimer" (of the coming Sun) ; and in Akkadian Sdkvxsa^ the 2ex^f of Hesychios, a name perhaps meaning **Lord (Uead)-of-the-four-qaarter8'' (of the heaven). The Greeks called it ** the Star sacred to Hermes" (Platon, Timaios)^ be- cause Hermes in their god-system was regarded as the analogue of the Euphrtttean Nabu.
256 B A CO NT ANA.
things to excite cariosity, or to suggest we in any way can assist to solve them, but conscientiously present them to those readers who are not intimate with Bacon, to show that there is a pro- found mystery connected with some of his works, which his editor and lifelong student, Spedding, could not fathom If there is a mystery around Shakespeare's life, there is also a mystery around Bacon's, though of another description. It is believed that Bacon had his works translated into Latin, because he anticipated the decay of English and a possible return to the Latin as a vehicle for philosophical writings. But we are not of that belief. We think that the Latin was of course intended to serve as a common European medium or means of reading him. But we think also that the Latin was a cover for less concealed and more ambiguous language upon subjects which were, in his own words, " to adopt his reader." The translations are of course bound to agree with the seemingly simple subject in hand. It seems to us Bacon's works are often to be found employing a double language, and at random, or strained from that simplicity which he never ceases to commend in connection with words and their meaning. His entire philosophy is written to expose the idols of words and their false connotations, and to plant them deep down in Nature itself, yet he does not conform to the spirit of his teaching. We find Mr Spedding constantly at a loss, and yet unwilling to confess it, in his work of editorship. Bacon everywhere shows that his ideas and words are often very badly mated.
'^ Critics have discovered a multitude of contradictions and antinomies in the Baconian philosophy, because he denies in one place what he has affirmed in another. Among these antinomies, many are certainly so composed that the thesis may be found in the encyclopsedian works, the antithesis in the 'Novum Organum.' " (" Francis Bacon," p. 224, by Kuno Fischer.) Mr Spedding writes (page 2, " Life of Bacon ") : — '' It seemed that towards the end of the sixteenth century men neither knew nor aspired to know more than was to be learned
BACONIANA. ^ 257
from Aristotle ; a strange thing at any time ; more strange than ever just then, when the heavens themselves seemed to be taking up the argument on their own behalf, and by suddenly lighting up within the very region of the Unchangeable and Incorruptible, and presently extinguishing, a new fixed star as bright as Jupiter — (the new star in Cassiopeia shone with full lustre on Bacon's freshmanship) — to be protesting by signs and wonders against the cardinal doctrine of the Aristotelian philosophy."
On this star the author of " Mazzaroth " says : —
'* The new star seen by lycho Brahe, in Cassiopeia, which blazed for a short time and then disappeared, sufficiently authorises us to regard this star as no meteor of our earth or sky, but as one of the heavenly bodies, pre-ordained to the glorious office of heralding, by an increase of its own brightness, the coming in splendour of Him, the true light, by whom and for whom all things were created." (Col. i. 16.)
Upon consulting further " Mazzaroth," we find (on page 3) that Seth or Shoth or Hermes was the reputed inventor of Astronomy. '' The Egyptians held that (Hermes) or Shoth — ^the Twice Great — was the founder of their Astronomy " (page, 3, part iv. " Mazza- roth ''). So that we find a rational explanation in the title Hermes Stella, (as Astronomy,) or the Astronomical, or Astrological Star, an idea which is fully borne out by the notes in ink, (which we have quoted,) found at the foot of the title-page in the original, in Bacon's own hand. With regard to the strange title, " Valerius Terminus," we can suggest no explanation. Terminus needs no comment ; it clearly means what is already an anglicised word — finality, a termination, which the second title mysteriously con- nects with astronomy, as is proved by the additional astro- logical note. Valerius is a proper name, and there are a great quantity of them in the dictionaries. Amongst them we find some artists. One, of Ostia, was the architect of the covered theatre erected at Rome for the games of Libo (Pliny, H. N.| xxxvi. 16 8. 24).
We find in " Valerius Terminus" a great deal upon the anticipa-
R
\'
258 BACONIAN A.
tions of the mind, which immediately recalls how Bacon has anticipated in the '' New Atlantis" the discoveries of the nine- teenth centuiy. In chapter 13 : — '' Of the error in propoonding chiefly the search of causes and productions of things conareU^ which are infinite and transitory, and not of abstrad noltcres, which are few and permanent Thai these naJtures are as ike alphabet or simple letters^ whereof the variety of things con- sisteth \ or as the colours mingled in the painter*s sheUy tcherewiih he is able to make infinite variety of faces or shapes"
This recalls his letter to Sir Tobie Matthew and his works of the alphabet. In chapter 18 he again mysteriously alludes to reserving a part in publication to a private succession, which I think is a pretty good hint to prove that this is what he has himself done : —
dent of many vain persons and deceivers disgraced, of publishing part, and reserving part to a private succession, and of publishing in a manner whereby it shall not be to the capacity nor taste of all, but shall as it were single and adopt his reader, is not to be laid aside, both for the avoiding of abuse in the excluded, and the strengthening of affection in the admitted."
What is the " infinite variety of faces or shapes " which he couples with the painter's art ? Are they the " infinite variety of faces'* of the Shakespeare Theatre which he has reserved "to a private succession (and) of publishing," which are to " single and adopt his reader." We think so, and the world will think so too ere many years go by. It is sheer nonsense for the de- fenders of the Shakespeare myth to stand upon their stilts, or, (like the ostrich,) to hide their heads in the sands of their preju- dice and ignorance, by blanching such passages as these. Let the Americans come and take possession, if we do not take possession ourselves. After all, what are the apologists of Shakespeare defending ? Merely a name, the traditions around which are anything but ennobling. All we know of Shake- speare consists in the knowledge that he was bom in a dirty,
BACONIAN A. 259
squalid house, or cottage with heaps of dirt ('^ sterquinarum" in front of it. That he distinguished his early and classical years, no€ in drinking at the Gastalian fount of the golden Apollo, but by deer stealing, coney catching, drinking bouts, and immorality. His life begins with the story of the cele- brated drinking contests, and ends with the same pitiful tale. His wife presents him with an heir six months after marriage. He is again heard of supplanting his fellow actor Burbage in an amour. He lends money, sues for small debts, oppresses the poor (as to the inclosures of the common land), and dies leaving neither library, nor manuscript, nor record, except that he brew beer, and never taught his eldest daughter to read or write. And this is the man who overreaches three centuries of critics to understand or exhaust his learning 1 The human mind is a strange thing, infested with Bacon's idols, which have been more exemplified in the history of Shakespearian criticism than in aught else. There is nothing but association, that '' monster cus- tom that all sense doth eat," that bars the minds of prejudiced thousands from examining this question of authorship fairly, rationally, without bias, and in a spirit which Bacon everywhere inculcates. The less people have read Bacon or Shakespeare the more positive they are as to the authorship. This is a fact we find true every day. Others waver, and would believe, if it were not for the idol of superstition, the false idol or god who usurps the rightful heir. A curious attitude is momentary conversion and then falling back. The simple truth is, public opinion is stronger than reason. The overwhelming collective voice para- lyses the free judgment But what judge can public opinion be upon a question of this sort, that lies deeper than the average of common education, and which few will give themselves the trouble to study as it requires to be studied 1 Surely the opinion of experts is more valuable than the opinion of a multitude of what Garlyle called '' mostly fools ! " Public opinion is sound, excellent, and invaluable in all questions of common sense. This is a literary question, embracing the profoundest possible learn-
26o BACONIAN A.
ing, and a peculiar faculty of perceiying, comparing, or collating and analysing. No donbt it will or may become a subject open to the judgment of the average common sense. But that point has hardly been reached yet. What people want to know is why Bacon allowed another to enjoy his proper rights f The answer has been given under one head. We will give it under several others. The general explanation is the low position the stage and play-writing occupied in those days, and the serious ambi- tious career of Liw before the real author, Bacon. We think this is only half the answer. We believe it was the peculiar charac- ter of Bacon's mind which was at the bottom of it His whole life was bent upon a revolution of philosophy and the reforma- of society. Here he joins hands with the Bosicrucians. He shows in his works his delight with the reserve and concealment of Nature, and perceives that the education and discipline of man's apprenticeship in life are owing to the mystery of the Creator's works. His subtle intellect conceives the idea of imitating this secrecy, which is also part and parcel of the Bosi- crucian tenets. Self-sacrifice, abnegation, absence of all personal seeking or vanity, and to come down hidden through the ages. Those were their doctrines. The plays commenced early to go to the theatre anon3rmou8ly, and they had to continue to do so. But the character of Bacon's mind, as exemplified in his works, is the subtlest that the World has ever known. It is ubiquitous, it never wearies, by turns lawyer, statesman, natural scientist^ antiquarian, thoroughly classical, despising the philosophy of the Greeks and Romans, calling the former children ; overthrowing Aristotle at sixteen, and going back to the Egyptians, Persians, and Culdees for original authority. Anything is possible of such a god-like intellect, whose whole faculties are bent upon Posterity, and " after Ages," and who lives in thought with the nineteenth and twentieth century in discoveries. He is not satisfied with Europe or the old world. He must have a New Atlantis or America. He won't allow the centuries to outstrip him. For he is their master, and we are yet far behind him 1
BACONIAN A, 261
To those who object that no one man could find time to com- pass the plays, besides his already acknowledged works, we reply thus — How was it he found time to become Lord Keeper, Lord Chancellor, and write what we already have 9 Most men would be satisfied to fill a lifetime with one or the other. He did both. And if he did this, he could do anything.
''He died on the ninth day of April in the year 1626, in the early morning of the day, Easter Sunday, then celebrated for our Saviour's resurrection, in the sixty-sixth year of his age, at the Earl of Arundel's house in Highgate, near London, to which place he casually repaired about a week before."
Those who believe like ourselves that he was more like Christ than man, both in end, aims, and sacrifice, and who further believe that he will come again to us in greater glory, as the Logos of the plays, will find the above coincidence of his death very remarkable.
With regard to Montaigne, with whose works there is so much in Bacon's essays in common, both as to style, solidity, and pro- foundness, we quote the following from E. Arber's prologue to " A Harmony of the Essays " of Bacon : —
'' Bacon knew Montaigne, not only as the great French Essayist, but also as the friend of his only full-brother, Anthony. This elder son of the Lord Keeper, Sir Nicholas Bacon, by his second wife, the Philosopher's mother, was wandering about the con- tinent, chiefly in France, for eleven years, between 1579 and February 1592, during all the time England was rising to her highest efibrt in the struggle with Spain. In November 1582, within two years of the first appearance of Montaigne's ' Essais,' and the year of their second edition, both at Bordeaux ; Anthony Bacon came to that city, and there contracted a friendship with the Sieur de Montaigne. Without doubt this acquaintanceship resulted in these French 'Essais' being early brought under Bacon's notice; and notwithstanding their endless ramblings from the subject, so utterly distasteful to him, the novelty of the style of writing no doubt recommended itself to him : and thus
262 BACONIANA.
he came to note down his own observations, after the method of his own genius. So that on 30 January 1597 h& coidd say thai he published them 'as they passed long ago from my pen.*
'' Yet it is strange that Bacon ignores his gaide. There is no allusion by him to Montaigne in these essays before 1625, under which year he will be found quoted at p. 501. When, in 1612, he was writing his dedication to Prince Henry of his second and revised Text, it pleased him to go back to antiquity for a precedent, and to find in Seneca's 'Epistles to Lucilius' the prototype of the modern Essay, see p. 158.*'
For those who believe, like ourselves, that Bacon was active in promoting a general reformation throughout Europe, either in league with the Bosicrucians, or in favour of Masonry, these eleven years of foreign travel of his devoted brother Anthony, are full of significance. Anthony Bacon (like Antonio in the Merchant of Venice) was ever ready with his purse to help his brother. We find him working and living with him at Gray's Inn, and finally leaving Bacon Gorhambury. It is curious to find Anthony Bacon at Bourdeauz, in communication with Mon- taigne. It is strange to find Anthony at Venice, whence Bocca- lini's " Bagguagli di Pamasso" appeared All this time — ^these eleven years — Anthony is in constant communication with his brother, and is himself studying deeply Foreign Politics and his age.
As to Bacon's moral character, enough has already been written upon it. These are the words of Arber in his introduction to his " Harmony of the Essays " : —
" It is contrary to human nature, that one in whose mind such thoughts as these coursed, year after year, only becoming more excellent as he grew older, could have been a bad man. Do men gather grapes of thorns ) Be all the facts of his legal career what they may, and it is that section of his life mostly includes any discredit to him: (he was also a Philosopher, Historian, Essayist, Politician, and what not 1) the testimony of this one work, agreeing as it does with the tenour of all his other writings
BACONIAN A, 263
is irresistible^ that in the general plan of his purposes and acts, he intended nothing less, nothing else than to be ' Partaker of God's Theater, and so likewise to be partaker of Grod's Best/ p. 183. Can we accuse one who so scathes Hypocrites and Im- posters, Cunning and Self-wisdom, of having a corrupted and depraved nature 1 For strength of Moral Power, there is no greater work in the English language.
''More than this, (it is notable also as a testimony to his character,) there runs right through all an unfeigned reverence for Holy Scripture, not only as a Eevelation of Authority, but as itself the greatest written Wisdom. Not because it was so easy to quote, but because it was so fundamentably and everlastingly true, did this great Intellect search the Bible as a great store- house of Civil and Moral, as well as Eeligious Truths, and so Bacon is another illustration, with Socrates, Plato, Dante, Shake- speare, Milton and others, that a deep religious feeling is a necessity, to the very highest order of human mind. As he argues at p. 339, Man^ when he resteth and assureth himself e vpon diuine Protection and Fauour, gathereth a Force and Faith ; which Human Nature, in it selfCy could not obtaine,
" Here most reluctantly we must leave off, ere we have hardly begun. One parting word. We rise from the study of this work with a higher reverence than ever for its Author; and with the certain conviction that the Name and Fame of Francis Bacon will ever increase and extend through successive ages."
In the " New Atlantis " we find the following prayer printed in capitals : —
" Lord Grod of Heaven and Earth, thou hast vouchsafed of thy grace to those of our Order (sic), to know thy works of Creation and true secrets of them, and to discern (as far as ap- pertaineth to the generation of Men) between Divine Miracles, Works of Nature, Works of Art, and impostures and illusions of all sorts. I do here acknowledge and testify before this people, that the thing we now see before our eyes is thy Finger, and a true Miracle. And forasmuch as we learn in our books, that
264 BACONIANA,
thou never workest Miracles, but to a divine and excellent End, (for the laws of Nature are thine own laws, and thou exceedest them not but upon good cause) we most humbly beseech thee to prosper this great sign, and to give us the Interpretation, and use of it in mercy, which thou dost in some part secretly promise, by sending it unto us."
The word " Order " is printed in large capitals. This shows that ''those of our Order" refers to some secret brotherhood, or society, which we believe was no other than the famous fraternity of the brotherhood of the Eosy Gross — ^in shorty the Bosicrucians ! It behoves the present generation to solve this question satisfactorily.
How is it we find Bacon repeatedly alluding to the " Grardens of the Muses," to the immortality of poetry, in the following remarkable language? "The Gardens of the Muses keep the privilege of the golden age ; they ever flourish aikd are in league with time. The monvments of wit survive the monuments of power: the verses of a poet endure without a syllable lost^ while states and empires pass many periods. Let him not think he shall descend, for he is now upon a hill as a ship is mounted upon the ridge of a wave j but that hill of the Muses is above tempests, always clear and calm; a hill of the goodliest dis- covery that man can have, being a prospect upon all the errors and wanderings of the present and former times. Yea^ in some cliff it leadeth the eye beyond the horizon of time, and giveth no obscure divinations of things to come."
We think that this passage is sufficiently pregnant with im- plied application of all this (with regard to poetry) to Bacon him- self, as to constitute a confession of faith in itself. For example, can we not see in that wide survey, which Bacon associates with the hill of the Muses (Parnassus), the anticipation of Bacon's mind (in his " New Atlantis ") and his wide survey of " former times," with his studies of the Persian, Chaldaaan, and Egyptian antiquity) Do we not see in this hill "above tempests" the God Prospero watching the wanderings and errors of the ship-
BACONIANA. 265
wrecked Eong and his Courtiers 1 If Bacon was no poet, and had nothing (o do with the Moses or Parnassus, how does he know all thisi But compare this, ''The monuments of wit surviye the monuments of power : " —
" Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme.''
Or take the Hermit's speech (Bacon "Device," 1594-95): — *^Ifhe wUl he in the feast and not in the throng, in the light and not in the heat; Ut him embrace the life of study and cmdemplor turn. And if he will accept of no other reason, yet because the gift of the Muses will enworthy him in his love, and where he now looks on his mistress's outside with the eyes of sense, which are dazzled and amazed, he shall 'then behold her high perfec- tions and heavenly mind with the eyes of judgment, which grow stronger by more nearly and more directly viewing such an object."
Nobody but a poet would or could write like this, and cer- tainly no philosopher would think of harping on the Muses in this fashion ! Can we not see in this language ('' in the feast") the author of Lovers Labours Lost, which had appeared a short time before 1588 : —
" The mind shall banquet, though the body pine : Fat paunches have lean pates ; and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits."
Can we not see, even in the language used, a mind familiar and at home with the poetical conceits of the Italian sonneteers, who always identified philosophy and wisdom toiih a mistress, as in the case of Petrarch, Boccaccio, and Dante t
We find one of the peculiarities of Bacon's mind was to look upon the past as the true youth of the world, which seems to us an entirely original conception, and which we find repeated by no one except Shakespeare. But first as to Bacon, who writes : —
" As for antiquity, the opinion touching it which men enter- tain is quite a negligent one, and scarcely consonant with the
266 BACONIANA.
word itself. For the old age of the world is to be accoanted the true antiquity; and this is the tribute of our own iimes^ not of that ea/rlier age of the world in which the ancients lived ; and which^ though in respect of us it was the elder, yet in respect of the world it was the younger. And truly as we look for greater knowledge of human things and a riper judgment in the old man than in the young, because of his experience and of the number and variety of the things which he has seen and heard and thought of; so in like manner from our age, if it but knew its own strength and chose to essay and exert it, much more might fairly be expected than from the ancient times, inasmuch as it is a more advanced age of the world, and stored and stocked with infinite experi- ments and observations."
Now this is so original, and so entirely without any contempo- rary parallels, that to find Shakespeare repeating it is assuredly startling : —
" If that the world and Love were young, And truth in every shepheaxds tODgue, These pretty pleasures might me move, To live with thee and be thy Love."
Mystery about Bacon*s Life.
In his poem of " Underwoods," there is this by Ben Jonson, addressed to Bacon on his birthday : —
" In the midst Thou stand'st as though a mystbrt thou did'st."
Considering Ben Jonson translated Bacon's works for him into Latin, such words coming from an intimate associate who had opportunities for observation, is a most remarkable thing. Then we have that remarkable letter of Bacon to Sir Tobie Matthew, saying (1607-9) :—" Those works of the Alphabet are in my opinion of less use to you where you now are than at Paria" Bawley writes in his life of Bacon :— " Several persons of quality
BACONIANA. 267
daring his Lordship's life crossed the seas on purpose to gain an opportunity of seeing him and discoursing with him ; whereof one carried his Lordship's Picture from Head to Foot over with him into France ; as a thing which he foresaw would be much desired there." (P. 12.)
Many readers will say there is nothing at all extraordinary in thisy but they forget Bacon's works were little appreciated during his Ufe, and of a character little likely to arouse in foreigners this unbounded curiosity and admiration. Mrs Pott says: — " There are times noted by Mr Spedding when Bacon wrote with closed doors, and when the subject of his studies is doubtfuL" Then there is the celebrated letter to Master John Davies, who was a poet, begging him to use his influence with the new king in Bacon's favour, and concluding, ' to all concealed poets," &c.
Bacon writes, in a letter to Sir George Yilliers : — *' Fame hath swift wings, especially that which hath black feathers."
As Mr Donnelly truly remarks, by " black feathers " are meant " slanders," that is, that slander is like a bird with black feathers — a crow I Now compare—
^' That thou art blam'd shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair ; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crotp that flies in heaven's sweeter air."
A parallel of this sort is worth a million of the ordinary parallels of the use of the same words, because the latter are external and might be plagiarisms of style or coincidences, but the above is a discovery of the internal thought arranged in two utterly different ways, and yet plainly at bottom the sama Here is another identical parallel in which the torch is introduced as an emblem of light.
" I shall perhaps, before my death, have rendered the age a ligJU unto posterity, by kindling this new torch amid the darkness of philosophy." (Letter to King James.)
a68 BACONIANA.
Compare —
'' Heaven doth with us as we with iardka do, Not lighJt them for themselTea."
This is the inscription upon Bacon's monument : — FRANOISCUS BACON, BARO DE VERULAM, S*. ALBANI
SBU NOTIOBIBUS TITDLIS
8CISKTIART7M LUMKN FACUKDLS LEX
810 SEDEBAT.
QUI P08TQUAM OMNIA NATQRALIS 8APIEXTL£
BT OIYILIS ABCANA SYOLTISSET
NATUILfi DECRETUIC EXPLEV1T
COMPOSITA SOLVANTITB
AN. DNI M.DCXXYI. .fiTAT** LXVL
TANTI VIRI KBKs
THOMAS MEAXmJS
8UPERSTITIS CULTOR
DEFUNCTI ADMIRATOB
H. P.
This inscription (below the monument) was written by Sir Henry Wotton, and the following translation of it is copied from the " Biographia Britannica " : — ''Francis Bacon, Baron of Yerulam, Viscount St Albans, or by more conspicuous titles— of Science the Light; of Eloquence the Law, sat thus: Who after all natural Wisdom, and Secrets of Civil Life he had unfolded. Nature's law fulfilled — ^Ld Compounds be dissolved/* In the year of our Lord 1626 ; of his age, 66. Of such a man that the memory might remain, Thomas Meautys, living his attendant, dead his admirer, placed this monument."
The italics are not ours, though we are not surprised at them, for these four words, ''Let Compounds be dissolved," must astonish any attentive or thoughtful person. The Latin is '' Com- jposUa Solvantur" and is capable of other renderings besides the
BACONIAN A. 269
obvious one presented to us above. But why should it not have some other meaning than a purely physical one ) There is something very strange about this expression, " Let Compounds be dissolved," which recalls Hamlet's exclamation —
*' Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew/'
Let us examine a little the original Latin. Upon turning to the dictionary, we find '' CamposUa " bearing many meanings be- sides compounds. We do not mean to allow the bias of the fact that we are dealing with a monumental inscription to influence us. There is something sufficiently strange that we find these words following upon Naturas Decretum EoDplevU, because the latter completes the necessities of the case, and to add anything more is to lay the inscription open to the charge of tautology or pleonasm. Now, it is curious that the Latin word ComposUa has many meanings, amongst which may be included eompasiH&ns or works (and in which sense we have the name of a type-setter or compositor), from the verb to compose. It has also the meaning sometimes of false, feigned, contrived (Tac., Ann. L 7) : —
" Falsi, ac f estinantes vultuque composite."
Also (Livy, iii 10) : —
" Composita fabola, Volsci belli"
Solvantur comes from a verb which means to set free, unloose^ melt, — thaw, — resolv^^ — explain, — solve; indeed, the English word solve is directly derived from Solvere (the active verb), mean- ing to explain or answer. We speak and write of solving a riddle, in the sense of setting it free or unloosening it So that Composita Solvantur may be a profound way of saying other things than the rude and strange ''Let Compounds be dissolved ! ''
270 BACONIAN A,
Final Remarks.
Our final belief is, that the same mind that took " all knowledge for its province/' that studied the occult science of Persia^ ^%7P^ and Chaldsea, who was plainly at the head of some secret society (prefigured in the " New Atlantis"), and whose entire life was bent upon bettering the condition of man in after ages, by fireeing him of the impostures and delusions of the schools, composed these "philosophio-play-systems," in order once and for ever, by means of a pattern or exemplar of art, to prove to posterity (by means of a planned revelation) what he considered the true doctrine and spiritual meaning of the universe. This art is the brief summing up, the epitome and extract of all that is true and valuable in the philosophies of antiquity. The plays are the '^ the universal insanity," which he deplores to his son. Their object is to exemplify the subtlety of Nature by a like subtlety of construction, seeing that he says : — " The subtlety of Nature is much deeper that the subtlety of the senses." He saw, we believe, that his inductive philosophy might be applied and exemplified by a counterpart of art, embracing Idealism, as apparently opposed to Bealism and science, his object being to reconcile the two in one grand art scheme, where both should hold out hands to each other. He saw that this dramatic poetry might be applied to purposes of philosophic instruction. Suppose (for the sake of illustration only) that the plays are profoundly symbolical, and constructed upon a plan of entire rationalism for time to reveal. Might he not exemplify in action the four descriptions of his Idols — of the Tribe, Market-place, Theatre, and Den. It is remarkable that the actual term employed by Plato to illustrate the relationship of ideas to signs, is that of images or idols. An idol is a false image, and if we worship the external in place of the signification, we are confounding the false with the real ; and fix>m this confusion of words and of things has arisen the entire errors of which Bacon's inductive
BACONIAN A. 271
philosophy is the protest. It may seem claiming too much of any human being to imagine such a superhuman scheme possible ; but we have to deal with a remarkable age, a more remarkable man, and the most superhuman evidence of Divine Genius in plays that are as profound and as spiritual as the universe 1
We find Bacon perfectly understanding the value of secrecy. He says, '' But if a man be thought semd^ it inviteth discovery." (Essay on Simulation ..and Dissimulation.) Again, ''Therefore set it down : Thai an Habit of Secrecy is both Politic and Morai" This is placed in italics and capitals as we reproduce it. This is a curious confession to come from a writer who a little before in his essay upon Truth had written : " The Eaiowledge of TnUh, which is the presence of it ; and the belief of Truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature." But perhaps he had a method for his contradictions. It is as well also to see that, after approving of secrecy, he shows that Dis- simulation follows it by necessity. ''For the second, which is Dissimulation, it followeth many times upon secrecy by a necessity ; so that he that will be secret must be a dissembler in some degree." Then he goes on to say, "The three great advantages of Simulation and Dissimulation are these. First, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For where a man's intentions are published it is an Alarum to call up all that are against them. The second is to reserve to a Manself a fair Betreat" These passages were written in 1625, when he was sixty-five, and a year before his death. Coming from a man whose passionate love of truth was for truth's sake, and whose philosophy aimed at exposing eveiy sort of imposture or sham (at an age when he had nothing further to hope or fear in this world), these words ought to constitute a hint of the deepest significance.
Identity of Art with Nature,
" And we willingly place the history of arts among the species of natural history, because there have obtained a now inveterate mode of speaking and notion, as if art were something different from
272 BACONIANA.
nature, so that things artificial ought to be discrimiiiated from things natural, as if wholly and generieaUy different . . . and there has insinuated into men's minds a still subtler error — namely thiSf that art is conceived to be a sort of addUian to nature, the proper effect of which is mere words and rhetorical oinament(whiGh is better adapted to disquisition and the talk of literaiy nights than to establish philosophy)/' {" Intellectual Globe," chap iii) Now we see here Art identified hj Bacon with Nature. How is it we find Shakespeare also identifying Art with Nature in like manner
" Per. Sir, the year growing ancient, —
Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter,— the fairest flowers o' the season Are our carnations, and streaVd gillyflowers. Which some call nature's bastards : of that kind Our rustic garden's barren ; and I care not To get slips of them.
FoL Wherefore, gentle maiden,
Do you neglect them ?
Per, For I have heard it said.
There is an art which, in their piedness, shares With great creating nature.
Pol. Say, there be ;
Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say cuids to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we many A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, — change it rather ; but The art itself is nature.
Per. So it is."
Not only are both passages parallels as to bearing, but the same language and correction of Perdita's error by Polizenes is employed by Bacon : —
" And there has insinuated into men's minds a still subtler error — ^namely this, that art is conceived to be ' a sort of addiOcn to nature.^"
BACONIANA. 273
Compare : —
' So over that art Which you say adds to nature is an art That nature makes."
Both these passages were written by the same hand, because this is a parallel that springs from within, from so rare a philoso- phic creed, that it is improbable and unlikely that anybody besides Bacon even held it. See how both speak of addmg to Nature — so that we find the thought that Nature is Art and Art Nature, hehnging to both Bacon and Shakespeare, But this is Plato's philosophy, and we make bold to conceive that this is the philosophy of the "play systems," wherein Nature is identified with art, for philosophic purposes of in- struction, which will some day indeed astonish the world into admiration. It seems, then. Bacon had given profound thought to this question. Does it not seem strange to find this rigid philosopher of the inductive method, evidently deeply ac- quainted with the Platonic philosophy as an Art system — a result which a good many students of Plato hardly arrive at ! Nicetas (Psellus), in his "Commentaries" (Gregor Or. xlii. 1732 D.), says, " Si Orpheo credimus et Platonicis et Lydo phUosopho Natura dei ars qmdam estJ* (960 Aglaophamus Lobeck.) Let us here remark that Plato's philosophy and the Indian creed connected with Brahma and Maya, are the only systems that regard Nature as Oods Art, behind which he has concealed himself, and in which phenomena play the part of illusion, perspective or idols, as images or shadows — or symboliail pictures.
With regard to this our work, the critics, and the public, we have no right to expect a better reception than Bacon himself received. The gods cannot alter Human Nature.
" In 1620 Bacon published his great work, * Instauratio Magna.'
The geniuses laughed at it, and men of talent and acquirement,
whose studies had narrowed their minds into particular channels,
incapable of understanding its reasonings, and appreciating its
originality, turned wits for the purpose of ridiculing the new
s
274 BACONIANA.
publication of the philosophic Lord Chancellor. Dr Andrews, a forgotten wit of those days, perpetrated a vile pun upon the town and title of St Albans, by saying some doggerel verses that it was on the high road to DwnM tabUf i.e., Dunstable, and there- fore appropriate to the author of such a book. Mr Secretary Cuffe said it was " a book which a fool could have written, and a wise man would not." King James declared it was like the peace of God — *'it passeth all understanding." Coke wrote, under a device on the title page, of a ship passing through the pillars of Hercules —
" It deserveth not to be read in schools But to be freighted in the ship of fools."