| John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919. |
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| Page 166 |
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| | | Francis Bacon. (1561–1626) (continued) |
| | | 1948 | | I had rather believe all the fables in the legends and the Talmud and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind. |
| Of Atheism. |
| 1949 | | A little philosophy inclineth man’s mind to atheism, but depth in philosophy bringeth men’s minds about to religion. 1 |
| Of Atheism. |
| 1950 | | Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience. He that travelleth into a country before he hath some entrance into the language, goeth to school, and not to travel. |
| Of Travel. |
| 1951 | | Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause good or evil times, and which have much veneration but no rest. 2 |
| Of Empire. |
| 1952 | | In things that a man would not be seen in himself, it is a point of cunning to borrow the name of the world; as to say, “The world says,” or “There is a speech abroad.” |
| Of Cunning. |
| 1953 | | There is a cunning which we in England call “the turning of the cat in the pan;” which is, when that which a man says to another, he lays it as if another had said it to him. |
| Of Cunning. |
| 1954 | | It is a good point of cunning for a man to shape the answer he would have in his own words and propositions, for it makes the other party stick the less. |
| Of Cunning. |
| 1955 | | It hath been an opinion that the French are wiser than they seem, and the Spaniards seem wiser than they are; but howsoever it be between nations, certainly it is so between man and man. |
| Of Seeming Wise. |
| | Note 1.
Who are a little wise the best fools be.—Dr. John Donne: Triple Fool.
A little skill in antiquity inclines a man to Popery; but depth in that study brings him about again to our religion.—Thomas Fuller: The Holy State. The True Church Antiquary.
A little learning is a dangerous thing.—Alexander Pope: Essay on Criticism, part ii. line 15. [back] | Note 2.
Kings are like stars: they rise and set; they have
The worship of the world, but no repose.
Percy Bysshe Shelley: Hellas. [back] |
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