1 FRANCIS BACON, THOMAS HOBBES AND THE CAUSES OF

 1 FRANCIS BACON, THOMAS HOBBES
AND THE CAUSES OF THE ENGLISH CIVIL WAR
Markku Peltonen
i
Shortly before the English Civil War broke out Thomas Hobbes warned his
compatriots of the mortal dangers of classical rhetoric. ‘There can be no author of
rebellion’, he declared in May 1640, ‘that is not an eloquent and powerful speaker’,
and added that the ideas of rebellion ‘have proceeded from private and public
teaching’. In 1642 Hobbes similarly maintained that ‘a powerful eloquence is the true
feature of those who agitate and incite the people to a revolution’. Again he placed the
blame for civil wars at the door of schoolmasters in disposing the citizens’ minds
towards sedition by infecting the young people in the schools. More than 20 years
later in the 1660s, when offering his analysis of the causes of the English Civil war,
Hobbes harked back as well as harped on these same principles. Parliament, he
insisted, had brought about the civil war ‘by the help of seditious Presbyterian
ministers, and of ambitious ignorant Orators’.
For Hobbes, therefore, there was a direct path from the teaching of rhetoric in
humanist grammar schools to the Civil War and Revolution.
My overall aim today is twofold. First, I seek to place Hobbes’s account of
rhetoric in its intellectual and pedagogical contexts and to explore those aspects of the
Renaissance art of rhetoric which might have prompted him to undertake such a
critical assessment of rhetoric and schooling. In the second part of my paper I will
move to Francis Bacon and examine his views of rhetoric. What was Bacon’s take on
rhetoric and its role? Did he, in other words, agree with Hobbes that rhetoric is a
dangerous weapon and a form of sedition which would help to instigate rebellions,
civil wars and revolutions?
What I seek to argue in this second part is that Bacon did not share the critical
assessment of rhetoric that Hobbes would put forward. On the contrary, Bacon’s
interpretation of rhetoric was almost diametrically opposed to that of Hobbes. I will
conclude my paper by pointing out that if Hobbes had paid more attention to Bacon’s
account and had heeded Bacon’s advice, he could have avoided a decade long
intellectual peregrination.
2 ii
If we want to understand what Hobbes was doing in his arguments about the dangers
of the ars rhetorica, it is important to bear in mind that in the early-modern period
there was a deep-rooted tradition which questioned the art of rhetoric above all on
political grounds.
One prominent line of argument was to distinguish between the proper use of
rhetoric in noble hands and its improper use by populist orators. Such an
interpretation of the beneficial nature of aristocratic eloquence and of the mortal
danger of popular rhetoric was expounded throughout the Elizabethan and earlyStuart periods. Since the common people were unruly, it was a principal task of the
noble citizen to use his power of eloquence to govern and suppress them. And the ars
rhetorica was an effective means of doing this. ‘By ‘the force of eloquence’, as one
author put it in the 1570s, the nobility could govern and ‘brydle the raginge and
furyous common people’.i
At the same time it was argued that in popular hands rhetoric was the most
dangerous weapon. One aristocratic treatise (also from the 1570s) explained that the
Roman ‘Empyre’ had initially been ‘maintayned and amplified by the Senate’. Its
destruction had occurred as soon as the common people had been provoked to a
rebellion ‘agaynste their rulers and princes’ by the powers of ‘the seditious orations of
people pleasers’.ii
Perhaps the best-known work which put forward such an argument was Jean
Bodin’s Six Bookes of a Common-weale (translated into English in 1606). In virtuous
hands, Bodin pointed out, eloquence was highly advantageous. Yet he emphasised
much more strongly that it was the popular elements of eloquence that played the
most insidious role in any commonwealth. Most orators, he wrote, had ‘beene … the
stirrers vp of the people to sedition’.iii
A closely related line of argument was to emphasise the links between rhetoric
and republicanism. A schoolmaster claimed in the 1580s that the examples of
continental ‘fré citie’ and especially those of democratic Athens and republican Rome
were irrelevant in Elizabethan England. In popular governments ‘the toungue’ was
‘imperiall bycause it dealt with the people’, but in monarchies it ‘must obey, bycause
it deales with a prince’. No one in England could, therefore, be Cicero or
Demosthenes, the schoolmaster added.iv
3 Intriguingly, a very similar argument was put forward in Horae subsecivae, a
collection of essays, which William Cavendish, the future second early of
Devonshire, wrote in collaboration with Hobbes in 1620. Cavendish argued that
‘anciently, and in popular States, the liberty of euil tongs hath been more tolerated
then now it is’. Although he acknowledged that freedom of speech had been ‘a bridle
to the licentiousnesse of’ great men, Cavendish was highly critical of it. ‘In a
Monarchie’, he declared, ‘the same would but haue beene as a spurre to seditions and
tumults’.v
iii
Clearly, we need to ask what in the teaching of rhetoric in early-modern grammar
schools prompted Hobbes and many others to attack schoolmasters and their teaching
of the ars rhetorica.
The first thing to note is that rhetoric for early-modern rhetoricians and
schoolmasters was not primarily an art of beauty but an art of power. Many humanists
exalted the potency of eloquence and insisted that a powerful orator could direct his
listeners even against their own wills. As Thomas Wilson, a mid-Tudor humanist and
secretary of state, famously wrote, ‘suche force hath the tongue, and such is the power
of eloquence and reason, that most men are forced euen to yelde in that, whiche most
standeth againste their will’.vi
Moreover, this potency was intensely political in character. Of course, it has
been suggested that early-modern rhetoricians avoided civic and political topics,
mainly because in many Anglophone rhetoric manuals the account of deliberative
rhetoric mostly focussed on the private sphere. Nevertheless, Hobbes and others
disagreed and argued that the ars rhetorica was a dangerous political weapon. And as
soon as we turn to those rhetoric manuals intended for the classroom, we meet
vehemently political treatments of deliberative rhetoric.
Training in rhetoric in early-modern grammar schools began with epistlewriting. A striking example of what kinds of letters on public and political topics
early-modern schoolboys were required to study is provided by the collection of
Cicero’s familiar letters which Thomas Cogan, the headmaster of Manchester
grammar school, published for the classroom use in 1602.
Cogan had written a short summary to each letter explaining its context and
contents. Schoolboys were thus expected to study not merely the style but also the
4 content and historical meanings of Cicero’s letters. The collection included numerous
political epistles which dealt with the civil wars, Caesar’s authority and the question
of how to remain steadfast and serve the republic under such difficult circumstances.
In January 43 BC, Cicero pointed out in a letter to Decimus Brutus, a leading
instigator of Caesar’s assassination, that ‘all the citizens hope and believe that you
liberate the republic from monarchy as you have liberated it from the king’. And he
further exhorted Brutus by noting that everyone was ready to defend ‘liberty’ and hate
‘servitude’. ‘All the people’, Cogan summarised this letter to his pupils,
‘spontaneously enrolled for liberty and for relieving the republic from monarchy and
liberating it from the king’.vii
Having learned epistle-writing, schoolboys started to learn how to write
themes. Again the topics could be intensely political. By far the most popular school
textbook for theme-composition was Aphthonius’ Progymnasmata, whose Latin
translation was first published in London around 1520 and which quickly became one
of the most popular school handbooks.
One of the exercises in Aphthonius’ manual examined tyranny, explaining that
tyrant was much worse than murderer. It followed that those who brought the patria to
servitude must be severely punished and those who liberated it should be highly
honoured. Aphthonius maintained not only that ‘it is profitable that the tyrant is
killed, for that allows the laws to stand firm’, but also that this was an ‘easy’ task to
be accomplished.viii
If schoolboys could learn such a message from Aphthonius’ text, they could
learn even more from appended commentary. It cited Cicero’s several vitriolics
against tyranny, where tyrannicides were highly praised. Schoolboys were referred to
the second Phillipic, where Cicero fulminated that ‘to kill a tyrant’ was not only
‘beautiful as an act’ but also ‘grateful in benefit’ and ‘glorious in fame’.
This political education continued in the two highest forms when schoolboys
finally studied rhetoric proper. It is a striking fact that those English schoolmasters
who produced their own rhetoric manuals took a standard list of political topics of
deliberative rhetoric from their classical sources. When Aristotle discussed
deliberative rhetoric, he noted that the orator could speak about five political topics.
As the 1637 English translation put these topics: ‘Of levying of money’, ‘Of peace,
and Warre’, ‘Of the safeguard of the Countrey’, ‘Of Provision’ and ‘of making
Lawes’.
5 Early-modern
English
schoolmasters
followed
suit.
Practically
all
schoolmasters who wrote rhetoric manuals for the classroom included this
Aristotelian account of political topics in deliberative rhetoric. As Charles Butler put
it in Oratoriae, libri duo (1629), whereas in private causes the area of deliberative
rhetoric was limitless, in ‘public causes’ and for ‘perfect orators in the forum’ there
were five distinctive topics. These were, Butler wrote, ‘wealth, war and peace,
guarding of regions, those which are brought in and carried out, proposing laws’.
The second thing to note is that the early-modern ars rhetorica was not only
intensely political; it was also vehemently popular. This meant first of all that the
common people – the multitude, as Cicero repeatedly pointed out, were an important
audience of the orator.ix But, if the people were the orator’s main audience, he had to
gear his speech to that end. In eloquence, Cicero wrote, language should always ‘be
fitted to the vulgar and popular understanding’ [ad vulgarem popularemque sensum
accommodata].x
Early-modern English rhetoricians and schoolmasters exhibited no qualms as
they seized this notion of popular rhetoric. They eagerly embraced the view that
rhetoric was central above all for addressing the people. From Leonard Cox and
Thomas Elyot in the early sixteenth century to Henry Peacham and others in the latter
part of the century and beyond, the early-modern English rhetoricians emphasised that
the multitude – the common people – were the orator’s chief audience. One sixteenthcentury rhetorician pointed out in direct reference to Cicero’s discussion, that
eloquence ‘was made for the people’ and reminded his students that ‘vulgus’ – ‘the
people’ – were the orator’s audience.xi
Little wonder then that many rhetoric manuals described eloquence as a popular
and populist art.xii ‘Rhetoric’, one of them defined in its opening words, ‘is an art of
speaking on whatever material ornately and copiously for popular conception and
persuasion’ It followed that the orator aimed ‘to teach popularly’. His ultimate end
was thus the ‘popular instruction of the mind and stirring up the emotions’.
Nicholas Carr, Regius Professor of Greek in Cambridge in the mid sixteenth
century, depicted eloquence and its role in the commonwealth in overtly populist
terms. Whereas philosophy was ‘intimate and recondite’ and thus ‘far away from the
use of everyday life and the habits of the forum’, eloquence was at their very centre.
‘Eloquence’ brought ‘prudence to all’ and made ‘the governor of commonwealths’; it
promoted ‘the knowledge of communal life’ and familiarity with ‘the minds and the
6 habits of the people’. Eloquence was, Carr wrote, closely linked with ‘the vulgar
understanding’, and he exhorted his readers to learn ‘the popular eloquence of
commonwealths’ [populari ciuitatum eloquentia]. It followed that rhetoric was closely
linked with a republican form of government. In Rome, as earlier in Athens, it had
been, Carr noted, ‘the people’s loss of liberty as a result of Caesar’s weapons’ that
had rendered ‘the orators silent’. They had no longer been ‘permitted to address the
people in an assembly’.
So it seems to be the case that Hobbes and others were deeply concerned with
the teaching of the ars rhetorica because a chief aim of grammar schools was to
instruct schoolboys how to deliver speeches to the popular audience of the multitude
about tyranny and liberty, taxation and foreign policy.
iv
I now move to Francis Bacon. It would be easy to think, especially given that
numerous scholars often portray Bacon as an advocate of a strong monarchy, that he
identified popular eloquence as a serious threat to civil peace and royal power.
Indeed, his father, Nicholas Bacon, had insisted that ‘contemptuous talk’ and
‘unbridled speeches’ could make ‘men’s minds to be at variance with one another,
and diversity of minds maketh seditions, seditions bring in tumults, tumults maketh
insurrection and rebellion’.xiii
Nicholas Bacon’s youngest son seemed to follow suit. In a number of writings
Bacon entertained the idea that the ars rhetorica was exceptionally dangerous for
civil peace. He was, in other words, perfectly aware of the argument Hobbes would
put forward so strongly. In his youth, well when he is roughly 30 years old, Bacon
lamented ‘a corrupt and perverse practise of evill subiectes to sowe abroade libels and
invectiues … to deface their gouvernors, & … to supplante the allegeaunce and
dutyes of the people, & the quyet of their cowntryes’. Such ‘Pamphlettes’, he insisted,
made adroit use of a ‘Countenaunce of liberty of speech’.xiv
Likewise, Bacon opened his essay ‘Of Seditions and Troubles’ by suggesting
that words could play a crucial role in instigating rebellions. ‘Libels and licentious
discourses against the state … and … false news … to the disadvantage of the state …
are amongst the signs of troubles’.xv
In book one of The Advancement of Learning (1605) Bacon wrote that
politcians often claimed that learning perverted ‘mens dispositions for matter of
7 gouernement and policie’. How? Learning prompted ‘a relaxation of discipline, whilst
euerie man is more readie to argue, than to obey and execute’. Bacon’s examples
demonstrate that he had above all rhetoric in mind in this passage. His first example
was Carneades whom Cato had wanted to banish from Rome. Carneades was the
symbolic hero of the powers of eloquence because he had managed to argue
convincingly in favour of both justice and injustice on consecutive days. According to
Bacon, Cato had wanted to banish Carneades because the youth ‘began to flocke
about him, allured with the sweetnesse and Maiestie of his eloquence’. Similarly,
Socrates had been accused, so Bacon wrote, ‘that he did professe a dangerous and
pernitious Science, which was to make the worse matter seeme the better, and to
suppresse truth by force of eloquence and speech’.xvi
So, perhaps it is the case that Bacon identified, just like Hobbes would do, the
ars rhetorica as an extremely dangerous weapon, which would only give rise to
tumults and rebellions. And if this were indeed the case, would it not be tempting to
see Bacon’s attempt to include civil knowledge in the Instauratio Magna along the
lines of Hobbes’s attempt to construct a genuine political science? That for Bacon,
just like for Hobbes, the construction of a political science on the solid foundation of
demonstration would be the best guarantee for peace and harmony.
Nevertheless, in each of the cases cited above, Bacon in fact constructed these
arguments as straw men which he then immediately demolished. When he censured
libels and pamphlets for defacing governors and for undermining allegiance, his
solution was not an overall critique of school education and the teaching of the ars
rhetorica. On the contrary, he suggested that people should be informed about the
rhetorical nature of those libels and pamphlets in order to allow them to decide for
themselves. ‘All good subiectes’ and ‘reasonable person’, Bacon explained, should be
‘fully advertised towching these writings, aswell from what manner of authors they
proceede, as vnto what dryftes and endes they be bent, and directed, and with what
arte they be contrived and framed’, and thereby to reveal ‘the sondry manyfest
vntrewthes which they conteyne’. xvii A thorough knowledge of rhetoric, Bacon
seemed to believe, would enable men to make up their minds about these libels and
pamphlets. So the implication was that suppressing seditions required that the
teaching of the ars rhetorica was as wide as possible.
Although the essay ‘Of Seditions and Troubles’ was opened with the claim
that ‘libels and licentious discourses against the state’ were signs of troubles, the rest
8 of the essay argued that true causes of seditions and rebellions were elsewhere. ‘The
Materials’ of seditions were mainly economic and social in character – especially the
poverty of the common people and ‘discontentment’. Their ‘Motives’ included
‘innovation in religion; taxes; alteration in laws and customs; breaking of privileges;
general oppression.xviii Far from seeing eloquence provoking seditions and rebellion,
Bacon noted that there must be possibilities to voice discontentment so that it would
‘evaporate’. Closely related to this, he also warned about certain speeches. But such
speeches, rather than inciting men to rebellion, were untimely short orations by
princes, where they revealed ‘their secret intentions’ and cut hopes people had
entertained.xix
So, Bacon, whilst being clearly aware of the arguments about the dangers of
the ars rhetorica to civil peace, brushed such arguments aside. For him, the only form
of oratory which might provoke a rebellion was an ill-timed royal speech. In book one
of The Advancement of Learning Bacon distanced himself as clearly as possible from
the notion that learning and education prompted disobedience and rebellion. Such a
claim was nothing but ‘a mere depreuation and calumny without all shadowe of
truth’. ‘Learning’, Bacon wrote, ‘does make the minds of men gentle, generous,
maniable and pliant to gouernment’. It followed, he went on, that ‘the most barbarous,
rude, and vnlearned times haue beene most subiect to tumults, seditions, and
changes’.xx
Rhetoric was not a dangerous weapon for launching a rebellion. But perhaps
Bacon ignored or even belittled the whole art? After all, he famously poked fun at
transalpine humanism and its love of rhetoric. In reference to the rise of humanism in
northern Europe in the 16th century, Bacon wrote: ‘the admiration of ancient Authors,
the hate of the Schoole-men, the exact studie of Languages: and the efficacie of
Preaching’ brought about ‘an affectionate studie of eloquence, and copie of speech,
which then began to flourish’.xxi But ‘this grew speedily to an excesse’, and ‘men
began to hunt more after words, than matter’. Bacon placed the blame for this on such
humanists as Erasmus, Nicholas Carr and Roger Ascham, who all deified Cicero and
Demosthenes and allured ‘all young men that were studious vnto that delicate and
pollished kinde of learning’.xxii
Nevertheless, although Bacon was critical of humanism and its eulogy of
eloquence, he of course did set great store by the ars rhetorica. He declared in 1595
that rhetoric ‘makes yow raigne ouer the wills and affeccions of men, which is the
9 greatest soueraignitye that one man can haue over an other’.xxiii Moreover, his defence
of learning (in The Advancement of Learning) sounds in part very much like a
humanist truism. He noted that ‘of late times’ the ‘excellent part of ancient
discipline’, according to which priority should be given to education even over laws,
had been revived. His example was nothing less than the bastions of humanist
learning, that is to say ‘the Colledges of the Iesuites’, especially (as he put it)
‘concerning human learning, and Morall matters’.xxiv
As a matter of fact, Bacon had a highly positive view of rhetoric and its role in
civic life. More importantly, his account of rhetoric was very close to the political and
populist line I briefly sketched in the first part of my paper.
If we now return to Bacon’s examples of Carneades and Socrates, we can see
that he of course strongly defended them and hence eloquence. Far from being critical
of learning, Cato himself, Bacon wrote, had started ‘to learne the Greeke tongue’ so
that he could read ‘the Greeke Authors’. And Socrates had been accused ‘vnder the
thirtie Tyrants’, but as soon as they had been overthrown, Socrates had become a
hero.xxv When Bacon defended learning, arguing that it made men ‘actiue and busie’,
his example was nothing less than Demosthenes.xxvi By the time he reached rhetoric in
his mapping of learning in book two of The Advancement of Learning, Bacon called it
‘a science excellent, and excellently well laboured’, and recommended Aristotle’s and
Cicero’s rhetoric manuals and Demosthenes’ and Cicero’s speeches.xxvii
Bacon agreed with those who emphasised the centrality of rhetoric in civic
and political life. Of course, in philosophy, Bacon wrote, rhetoric could be of ‘some
hindrance’ but ‘in ciuile occasions’ it played an important role.xxviii It was, as he put it,
‘Eloquence, that preuayleth in an actiue life’.xxix
Completely unlike Hobbes and others, Bacon declared that as long as rhetoric
prevailed, ‘societie and peace’ would be ‘maintained’. And as soon as eloquence
declined, seditions and tumults ensued. This was so, Bacon pointed out, because
eloquence could keep men’s ‘sauage and vnreclaymed desires’ at bay, but when it fell
silent ‘all thinges dissolue into Anarchie and Confusion’.xxx
As well as emphasising the importance of rhetoric in political and civic life,
Bacon embraced the other central element of the ars rhetorica – that eloquence was
closely linked with the common people. We can see this already in Bacon’s depiction
of the rise of humanism. The main reason underlying this rise was the urgent need to
persude the multitude. As Bacon put it in a striking passage: ‘because the great labour
10 then was with the people … for the winning and perswading of them, there grewe out
of necessitie in cheefe price, and request, eloquence and varietie of discourse, as the
fittest and forciblest accesse into the capacitie of the vulgar sort’.xxxi He repeated the
same point in his account of rhetoric., acknowledging that ‘in true value’ rhetoric was
‘inferiour to Wisedome, … yet with people it is more mightie’.xxxii Its arguments had
to be developed accordingly. Rhetoric, Bacon explained, handled reason ‘as it is
planted in popular opinions and Manners’.xxxiii
Bacon’s youthful ‘Certaine Obseruations vppon a Libell’, an answer to an
anonymous Catholic pamphlet in 1593, bears a striking testimony to this. Whereas
many authors linked rhetoric with republics, Bacon boldly drew a comparison
between England and Athens. In the ancient world, Athens had been the only ‘State of
opposicion against’ the ambitions of Macedonia, and similarly ‘the State of England’
was the only serious obstacle to Spain achieving the ‘Monarchie’ of ‘Europe’.
Most significantly, Bacon emphasised that ‘the point for which I cheeflie
make the comparison was, that of the Oratours which were as Councellours to a
populare State’. These orators and counsellors were the most important members of
their respective commonwealths; they were, as Bacon put it in case of Athens, the
‘sharpest sighted and looked deepest into the proiectes and spreddinge of the
Macedonians’. But it was precisely because of this that they were ‘ever charged both
by … the king of Macedon and by … such Athenians as were corrupted to be of his
faction, as the kindlers of troubles and disturbers of the peace & leagues’.xxxiv For
Bacon, in other words, the argument Hobbes was soon to put forward was nothing but
a politically motivated hollow sham. The orators, far from being instigators of
rebellions, were the most valuable members of their state. It was only those who
wanted to undermine a commonwealth that claimed that its orators were dangerous
and disturbers of peace and harmony.
Of course Athens had proved to be no match for Phillip’s Macedonia, but this
did not disprove the value of orators. Athens had lost because the Macedonian faction
in Athens had been ‘too mightie’ and it had ‘discountenanced the true Oratours
Counsellours and so bredd the ruine of that State’. England, on the other hand, still
stood a strong chance to withstand Spain. Why? Because, as Bacon explained, ‘it is to
be hoped that[,] in a Monarchy wher comonlie ther are better intelligences and
resolucions then in a popular State’, enemy’s plots are more easily detected and
11 frustrated.xxxv Bacon claimed, in other words, that the English orators and counsellors
were better than those of ancient Athens.
Bacon had a complete confidence in the powers of the ars rhetorica. He was
cognisant of the claims that rhetoric could be dangerous for the peace and harmony,
but he dismissed them and argued instead that rhetoric was a powerful weapon in
defence of justice, peace and liberty. It is above all as an orator, both of the oral and
written word, that Bacon saw himself, and it was not for nothing that late in his life he
compared himself with both Demosthenes and Cicero.
By way of concluding I would like to suggest that there is a touch of nice
irony in Bacon’s and Hobbes’s contrasting views of the ars rhetorica. Hobbes of
course acted briefly as Bacon’s secretary, helping to translate some of his essays into
Latin. It is highly likely that Hobbes knew The Advancement of Learning: there was a
copy of it in the Hardwick Hall library (the Cavendish’s family library). The essay
‘Of Reading History’ in Horae Subsecivae has a clear resemblance to Bacon’s
account of history in The Advancement of Learning.xxxvi Yet, Hobbes seems to have
ignored Bacon’s account of rhetoric in the same volume to his own serious detriment.
Had he read The Advancement of Learning carefully, he would have come
across the following passage:
If the affections in themselues were plyant and obedient to Reason, it were
true, there should bee no great vse of perswasions and insinuations to the will,
more than of naked proposition and Proofes but in regard of the continuall
Mutinies and Seditions of the Affections, … Reason would become Captiue
and seruile, if Eloquence of Perswasions, did not practise and winne the
Imagination, from the affections part, and contract a Confederacie betweene
the Reason and Imagination, against the Affections.xxxvii
The fundamental message of the passage was that, without the help of the ars
rhetorica, demonstrative proofs did not work in politics. As is well known, when
Hobbes started to develop his notion of demonstrative scientia civilis in the late
1630s, he not only sought to discredit the ars rhetorica; he also wanted to avoid using
it. So in both The Elements of Law and De cive he sought to replace eloquence by
science, and therefore endeavoured to avoid rhetoric as much as possible opting for
12 demonstrative proofs. By the time he wrote Leviathan, a decade later, however, he of
course had changed his mind and made a full use of the ars rhetorica.
So the thought I would like to leave you with is simply this: had Hobbes
studied The Advancement of Learning carefully and embraced Bacon’s argument
about the necessity of rhetoric in civic life, he could have never tried to write The
Elements of Law and De cive the way he did.
i Patrizi 1576, 15r. ii Osório 1576, 17r-­‐19r, 92r-­‐v. iii Bodin 1606, 543-­‐4. iv Mulcaster 1581, 242-­‐3; Mulcaster 1582, Ggivv, Hhiiv-­‐iijr. v [Cavendish] 1620, 56-­‐7. vi Wilson 1553, Aiijr-­‐iiijr. vii Cicero, Epistolarvm familiarivm, p. 22: viii Aphthonius, Praeexercitamenta, b.iiir: ‘Expedit vt cadat Tyrannus. Nam legibus stare permittit. Estq admodum facile in hunc animaduertere; Aphthonius, Progymnasmata, fo. 95r-v. ix Cicero, De oratore, II.lxxxiii.338: ‘maxima quasi oratoris scaena videatur contionis esse’; see also II.lxxxii.333-­‐34, I.x.44. Cicero, De oratore, II.lxxxiii.337; lxxxiii.340. x Cicero, De oratore, I.xxiii.108: ‘ad vulgarem popularemque sensum accommodate omnia genera huius forensis nostrae dictionis’. xi Rainolds 1986, 186: ‘eloquentia populo comparatur’ ; 286. xii Valerius 1580, 7: ‘breuem & subtilem Dialectico, Rhetori copiosam & popularem’ xiii Cressy 2010, 7. See also Peltonen 2013, 227-­‐8. xiv OFB, i, 309. xv Vickers, 366. xvi OFB, iv, 9-­‐10. xvii OFB, i, 312. xviii Vickers, 367-­‐8. xix Vickers, 368-­‐70. xx OFB, iv, 13-­‐14. xxi OFB, iv, 22. xxii OFB, iv, 22-­‐3. xxiii OFB, i, 658-­‐9. xxiv OFB, iv, 17. xxv OFB, iv, 14. xxvi OFB, iv, 13. xxvii OFB, iv, 127. xxviii OFB, iv, 23. xxix OFB, iv, 127. xxx OFB, iv, 39. 13 xxxi OFB, iv, 22. xxxii OFB, iv, 127. xxxiii OFB, iv, 129. xxxiv OFB, i, 384. xxxv OFB, i, 384. xxxvi Levy 2005, 219. xxxvii OFB, iv, 128.