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Of
Truth
by Francis Bacon
What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would
not stay for an answer. Certainly there be, that
delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix
a belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as well
as in acting. And though the sects of philosophers
of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain
discoursing wits, which are of the same veins,
though there be not so much blood in them, as was
in those of the ancients. But it is not only the
difficulty and labor, which men take in finding out
of truth, nor again, that when it is found, it
imposeth upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies
in favor; but a natural though corrupt love, of the
lie itself. One of the later school of the
Grecians, examineth the matter, and is at a stand,
to think what should be in it, that men should love
lies; where neither they make for pleasure, as with
poets, nor for advantage, as with the merchant; but
for the lie's sake. But I cannot tell; this same
truth, is a naked, and open day-light, that doth
not show the masks, and mummeries, and triumphs, of
the world, half so stately and daintily as
candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price
of a pearl, that showeth best by day; but it will
not rise to the price of a diamond, or carbuncle,
that showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a
lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt,
that if there were taken out of men's minds, vain
opinions, flattering hopes, false valuations,
imaginations as one would, and the like, but it
would leave the minds, of a number of men, poor
shrunken things, full of melancholy and
indisposition, and unpleasing to themselves?
One of the fathers, in great severity, called
poesy vinum doemonum, because it filleth the
imagination; and yet, it is but with the shadow of
a lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through
the mind, but the lie that sinketh in, and settleth
in it, that doth the hurt; such as we spake of
before. But, howsoever these things are thus in
men's depraved judgments, and affections, yet
truth, which only doth judge itself, teacheth that
the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making, or
wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the
presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is
the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human
nature. The first creature of God, in the works of
the days, was the light of the sense; the last, was
the light of reason; and his sabbath work ever
since, is the illumination of his Spirit. First he
breathed light, upon the face of the matter or
chaos; then he breathed light, into the face of
man; and still he breatheth and inspireth light,
into the face of his chosen. The poet, that
beautified the sect, that was otherwise inferior to
the rest, saith yet excellently well: It is a
pleasure, to stand upon the shore, and to see ships
tossed upon the sea; a pleasure, to stand in the
window of a castle, and to see a battle, and the
adventures thereof below: but no pleasure is
comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground
of truth (a hill not to be commanded, and where the
air is always clear and serene), and to see the
errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in
the vale below; so always that this prospect be
with pity, and not with swelling, or pride.
Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's
mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn
upon the poles of truth.
To pass from theological, and philosophical
truth, to the truth of civil business; it will be
acknowledged, even by those that practise it not,
that clear, and round dealing, is the honor of
man's nature; and that mixture of falsehoods, is
like alloy in coin of gold and silver, which may
make the metal work the better, but it embaseth it.
For these winding, and crooked courses, are the
goings of the serpent; which goeth basely upon the
belly, and not upon the feet. There is no vice,
that doth so cover a man with shame, as to be found
false and perfidious. And therefore Montaigne saith
prettily, when he inquired the reason, why the word
of the lie should be such a disgrace, and such an
odious charge? Saith he, If it be well weighed, to
say that a man lieth, is as much to say, as that he
is brave towards God, and a coward towards men. For
a lie faces God, and shrinks from man. Surely the
wickedness of falsehood, and breach of faith,
cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in that
it shall be the last peal, to call the judgments of
God upon the generations of men; it being foretold,
that when Christ cometh, he shall not find faith
upon the earth.
Excerpted from The Essays of
Francis Bacon, by Francis Bacon
Biography
in The Radical Academy: Francis Bacon
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The
Essays, by Francis Bacon
The
Cambridge Companion to Bacon
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