that are just, and of the family of virtue; the opposite whereof, is a fury to man, and makes even

life unsweet.

Therefore, what is more heavy than evil fame deserved? Or likewise, who can see worse days, than he that yet living doth follow at the funerals of his own reputation ?

I have laid up many hopes, that I am privileged from that kind of mourning, and could wish that like peace to all those with whom I wage love.

12. I might say much of the commodities that death can sell a man; but briefly, death is a friend of ours, and he that is not ready to entertain him, is not at home. Whilst I am, my ambition is not to fore-flow the tide; I have but so to make my interest of it as I may account for it; I would wish nothing but what might better my days, nor desire any greater place than the front of good opinion. I make not love to the continuance of days, but to the goodness of them; nor wish to die, but refer myself to my hour, which the great dispenser of all things hath appointed me; yet as I am frail, and suffered for the first fault, were it given me to chuse, I should not be earnest to see the evening of my age; that extremity of itself being a disease, and a mere return into infancy: so that if perpetuity of life might be given me, I should think what the Greek poet said, such an age is a mortal

evil. And since I must needs be dead, I require it may not be done before mine enemies, that I be not stript before I be cold; but before my friends. The night was even now: but that name is lost; it is not now too late, but early. Mine eyes begin to discharge their watch, and compound with this fleshly weakness for a time of perpetual rest; and I shall presently be as happy for a few hours, as I had died the first hour I was born.

LETTER

TO THE MARQUIS FIAT, RELATING TO

THE ESSAYS.

Monsieur l'Ambassadeur mon File,

VOYANT que vostre Excellence faict & traite mariages, non seulement entre les Princes d'Angleterre & de France, mais aussi entre les langues (puis que faictes traduire non livre de l'advancement des sciences en Francois) j'ai bien voulu vous envoyer mon livre dernierement imprimé, que j' avois pour veu pour vous, mais j'estois en doubte, de le vous envoyer, pour ce qu'il estoit escrit en Anglois. Mais a'cest'heure pour la raison susdicte je le vous envoye. C'est un Recompilement de mes Essayes Morales & Civiles, mais telement enlargiés & enrichiés, tant de nombre que de poix, que c'est de fait un œuvre nouveau. Je vous baise les mains, & reste

Vostre tres affectionée ami,

& tres humble serviteur.

R

TO THЕ

EARL OF ARUNDEL AND SURREY.

Just before his death, being the last letter he ever wrote.

MY VERY GOOD LORD,

I WAS likely to have had the fortune of Caius Plinius the elder, who lost his life by trying an experiment about the burning of the mountain Vesuvius: for I was also desirous to try an experiment or two touching the conservation and induration of bodies. As for the experiment itself it succeeded excellently well but in the journey (between London and Highgate) I was taken with such a fit of casting, as I knew not whether it were the stone, or some surfeit, or cold, or indeed a touch of them all three. But when I came to your lordship's house, I was not able to go back, and therefore was forced to take up my lodging here, where your house-keeper is very careful and diligent about me; which I assure myself your lordship will not only pardon towards him, but think. the better of him for it. For indeed your lordship's house was happy to me; and I kiss your noble hands for the welcome which I am sure you give me to it, &c.

I know how unfit it is for me to write to your lordship with any other hand than my own; but by my troth my fingers are so disjointed with this fit of sickness that I cannot steadily hold a pen.

E. Regr. Curiæ Prærogat. Cantura. Extract.

THE LAST WILL

OF

FRANCIS BACON VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN.

FIRST, I bequeath my soul and body into the

hands of God by the blessed oblation of my Saviour; the one at the time of my dissolution, the other at the time of my resurrection. For my burial I desire it may be in St. Michael's Church near St. Albans there was my mother buried, and it is the parish church of my mansion-house of Gorhambury, and it is the only christian church within the walls of Old Verulam. I would have the charge of my funeral not to exceed three hundred pounds at the

most.

For my name and memory I leave it to mens charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and the next ages. But as to that durable part of my memory, which consisteth in my works and writings, I desire my executors, and especially sir John Constable and my very good friend Mr. Bosvile, to take care that of all my writings, both of English and of Latin, there may be books fair bound and placed in the king's library, and in the