A Discourse by way of Introduction, In which the Publisher endeavoureth an Account of the Philosophy, Mechanic Inventions, and Writings, of Sir Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam, and Viscount St. Albans; And particularly of these Remains now set forth by him under the Title of Baconiana. ... 1679.
An Account of all the Lord Bacon's Works
It is my purpose to give a true and plain Account, of the Designs and Labours of a very great Philosopher amongst us; and to offer to the World, in some tollerable Method, those Remains of his, which to that end, were put into my Hands. [pp. 1-3] ...
Thus far I have travell'd in an Account, (such as it is) of those Genuine Writings of the Lord Bacon, which are already publish'd; and which, being (like Medals of Gold) both rich in their Matter, and Beautiful in their Form, have met with a very great, and well nigh, equal number of Purchasers and Admirers.
This general Acceptance of his Works, has expos'd him to that ill and unjust usage which is common to Eminent Writers. For on such are fathered, sometimes Spurious Treatises; sometimes most Corrupt Copies of good Originals; sometimes their Essays and first Thoughts upon good Subjects, though laid aside by them Unprosecuted and Uncorrected; and sometimes the very Toys of their Youth, written by them in trivial or loose Arguments, before they had arriv'd either at ripeness of Judgment, or sobriety of Temper.
The veriest Straws (like that of Father Garnet) are shewn to the World as admiral Reliques, if the least stroaks of the Image of a celebrated Author, does but seem to be upon them. ...
Neither hath the Lord Bacon gone without his share in this Injustice from the Press. He hath been ill dealt with in the Letters printed in the Cabala, and Scrinia, under his Name: For Dr. Rawley professed, that though they were not wholly False, yet they were very corrupt and embased Copies. This I believe the rather, having lately compar'd some Original Letters with the Copies in that Collection, and found them imperfect. ...
Our Author hath been still worse dealt with, in a Pamphlet in Octavo, concerning the Trial of the Earl and Countess of Somerset: And likewise in one in Quarto, which beareth the Title of Bacon's Remains, though there cannot be spied in it, so much as the Ruines of his beautiful Genius.
His Lordship, and other such memorable Writers, having formerly been subject to such Abuses; it is probable that many will, at first, suspect the faithfulness of this Collection; and look upon that as adulterate Ware, which is of such a sudden here brought forth to them, out of the Dark. . . .
For the Reader, who has been less versed in his Books, he may understand, that nothing is here offered to him as the Labour of that Lord, which was not written either by his own Hand, or in Copies transcrib'd by the most faithful Pen of his Domestic Chaplain, Dr. William Rawley....
I refer him, who doubteth of my Veracity in this Matter, to my worthy Friend Mr. John Rawley, (the Executor of the said Reverend Doctor) by whose care most of these Papers have been preserved for the public Good; and who can bear me witness, (if occasion serveth) that I have not herein impos'd upon the World.
It is true, that Dr. Rawley, in his preface to the Opuscula of his Lordship, hath forbidden us to expect any more of his Remains in Latine, or English: He addeth in express Terms, that nothing further remained in his Hands. He meant, when he said this, that such Writings of his Lordship, were to be esteemed as not in being, which were not worthy to appear. This meaning of his he more plainly deliver'd in his Preface to the Collection, called Resuscitatio.
There he saith, "That he had left nothing to a future hand, which he found to be of moment, or communicable to the public, save only some few Latine Works soon after to be publish'd." He deliver'd himself from the Obligation of that Promise in the Year fifty eight; publishing then, with all due care, those Latine works. Soon after, he as accus'd by an obsucre Prefacer, to a new Edition of the Essays, in Octavo, as one that had still concealed some of his Lordship's Philosophical Treasures. In vindication of himself from this Censure, I find him using these words in one of his papers, wherein he animadverteth on that preface. "I have publish'd all I thought fit, or a well advised Man would have thought fit to be publish'd by me." He judged some papers, touching Matters of Estate, to tread too near to the heels of Truth, and to the times of the Persons concerned, from which now they are further remov'd, by the destance of Twenty Years. He thought his Lord's Letters concerning his Fall, might be injurious to his Honour, and cause the old Wounds of it to bleed anew; whereas if the remembrance of them had not been fresh in the Minds of many, and in the Books of some, the Collection of the Cabala, had revived part of it in a corrupt Copy; and the matter of those Letters is of such a nature, (as afterwards I shall shew) that it rather cleareth his Lordship's Fame, than throws more dirt upon it. For the Philosophical Remains, he judged them unfit to be committed to the Press, because they were but Fragments; and such too, as his Lordship's last Hand had not rendred Correct. The excess of Veneration which he had for his Lordship, inclin'd him to think nothing worthy to bear his Name, which was not a Masterpiece. And for this Reason, If Surreptitious Copies had not moved him to do his Lordship right by printing the true ones, we had wanted divers Papers which the World now enjoys, and receives with thankfulness. And where the substance is Gold, Men will readily accept it, though in the Ore and unrefined: Nor is it any disparagement to the Inventory of his Lordship's philosophical Goods, if there are numbred amongst them certain broken uncoined pieces of valuable Metal.
Some few imperfect Papers, about his Lordship's private Affairs, or of very little moment in Philosophy, are still kept where they ought to be, in private Hands. But those which have been judged worthy the Light, by those Learned and Prudent Men whom I have consulted, are now, with no small Labour, communicated to the World. For so blotted were some of the Papers, so torn, so disjoynted, so intermixed in Contents of a different Nature; that the Sense, as it now stands, may seem like Mercury reduced to its proper Form, after its divers Shapes and Transmutations.
Now these Remains which I have been moved to publish, I have digested according to the nature of their Contents.... [pp.75-82]
![[Baconiana ]](GIFS/TENISON.GIF)
Most of Bacon's miscellaneous writings had been collected and published by Dr. William Rawley in "Resuscitatio," 1658. However Tenison found enough of those overlooked to publish a book of 269 pages. Rawley had stated, "I have publish'd all I thought fit, or a well advised Man would have thought fit to be publish'd by me." Tenison said, "He judged some papers touching Matters of Estate, to tread too near to the heels of Truth. . ."
But from the above quotation from Tenison, we know that there were other works of Francis Bacon, "Though his Name be not to it." Those works he did not identify but, if we are of "those who have the true skill in the Works of the Lord Verulam," we can recognize them, even though the true author was able, "without suspicion, to pass for them."
In the above quotation, why has Tenison dragged in, out of context, the name of one of Shakespeare's classic poems, The Phoenix? And why has he brought up "artificial Counterfeits?"
This word has a history of quite unnecessary repetition in Shakespeare's "First Part of King Henry the Fourth," (v, 4, 115). It is duplicated nine times in twelve lines. In "As you like it," (iv, 3, 166) it is needlessly repeated six times in seventeen lines. This word, Counterfeit, translates in Bacon's 21 letter alphabet, 4th letter forward cipher as BIYKIN, and in "As you like it" the enciphered word CIFIIR immediately follows.
So now we should be able to tell the name of the author of these plays by "the Design, the Strength, the way of Colouring, whether he was the Author of this or the other Piece, though his Name be not to it."
Penn Leary
