Tributes to Sir Francis Bacon

Although much of Bacon’s life and work was deliberately shrouded in secrecy, yet there were many friends, contemporaries of his, who did share in his secret, some of whom publicly proclaimed his greatness, when it became safer to do so, and hinted at his mystery. To them he was their chief, their leader, an Apollo, the day-star and leader of the choir of muses, a great philosopher and secret poet, masked under another name, who renovated Philosophy by means of comedy and tragedy. He was even likened to Pallas Athena as well as Apollo. He was their Solomon. He was their Shakespeare.

A man so rare in knowledge, of so many several kinds endued with the facility and felicity of expressing it in all so elegant, significant, so abundant, and yet so choice and ravishing a way of words, of metaphors and allusions as, perhaps, the world hath not seen, since it was a world.

Tobie Matthew, Preface to his Collection of Letters (published 1660).

Praise is not confined to the qualities of his intellect, but applies as well to those which are matters of the heart, the will and moral virtue; being a man both sweet in his ways and conversation, grave in his judgments, invariable in his fortunes, splendid in his expenses, a friend unalterable to his friends, an enemy to no man, a most indefatigable servant to the King, and a most earnest lover of the Public, having all the thoughts of that large heart of his set upon adorning the age in which he lives, and benefiting, as far as possible, the whole human race…

Sir Tobie Matthew, Dedicatory Letter prefacing an Italian translation of Bacon’s Essays and Wisdom of the Ancients (1617).

So did Philosophy, entangled in the subtleties of Schoolmen seek Bacon as a deliverer.... He renewed her, walking humbly in the socks of Comedy. After that, more elaborately he rises on the loftier buskin of Tragedy....

R.P., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 4

Let expediency consider the better part of counsel, but add, a concealed poet from Ithaca, and you hold all.

E.F., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 17

Finally he…who was in our sphere the brilliant Light-Bearer, and trod great paths of glory, passes, and fixed in his own orb shines refulgent.

Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 25

Alas! what a tongue is mute! what eloquence ceases! Whither have departed the nectar and ambrosia of your genius? How is it happened to us, the disciples of the Muses, that Apollo, the leader of our choir, should die?

John Williams, Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 12

Think you, foolish traveller, that the leader of the choir of the Muses and of Phoebus is interred in cold marble? Away, you are deceived. The Verulamium star now glitters in ruddy Olympus…

Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 23.

No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He commanded where he spoke, and had his judges angry or pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man that heard him was lest he should make an end…

[Bacon]…is he who hath filled up all numbers, and performed that in our tongue which may be compared or preferred either to insolent Greece, or haughty Rome. In short, within his view, and about his times, were all the wits born that could honour a language, or help study. Now things daily fall: wits grow downward, and Eloquence grows backward. So that he may be named and stand as the mark and acme of our language…

My conceit of his Person was never increased toward him by his place or honours. But I have and do reverence him for the greatness that was only proper to himself, in that he seemed to me ever, by his work, one of the greatest men and most worthy of admiration that had been in many ages. In his adversity I ever prayed that God would give him strength: for greatness he could not want. Neither could I condole in a word or syllable for him, as knowing no accident could do harm to virtue, but rather help to make it manifest.

Ben Jonson, Discoveries (1641), p 102.

 

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