"For so he (King Solomon) saith expressly, The Glory of God is to conceale a thing, but the Glory of a King is to find it out. As if according to that innocent and affectionate play of children, the Divine Majesty took delight to hide his works, to the end to have them found out, and as if Kings could not obtain a greater Honour, then to be God's play-fellowes in that game, especially considering the great command they have of wits and means, whereby the investigation of all things may be perfected."
Another phase of the same idea is to be found on page 136.
In the author's preface to the "Novum Organum" the following passage occurs:—
"Whereas of the sciences which regard nature the Holy Philosopher declares that 'it is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but it is the glory of the King to find it out.' Even as though the Divine Nature took pleasure in the innocent and kindly sport of children playing at hide and seek, and vouched-safe of his kindness and goodness to admit the human spirit for his play fellow in that game."
In almost identical words Bacon suggests the same conception in "In Valerius Terminus" and in "Filum Labyrinthi."
In the Epistle Dedicatorie of "The French Academie" and elsewhere the author is insisting on the same idea that "He (God) cannot be seene of any mortal creature but is notwithstanding known by his works."
The close connection of Francis Bacon with the works (now seldom studied) of the Emblem writers is vouched for by J. Baudoin.
Oliver Lector in "Letters from the Dead to the Dead" has given examples of his association with the Dutch and French emblem writers. Three Englishmen appear to have indulged in this fascinating pursuit—George Whitney (1589), Henry Peacham (1612), and George Withers (1634). From the Baconian point of view Peacham's "Minerva Britannia" is by far the most interesting. The Emblem on page 34 is addressed "To the most judicious and learned, Sir Francis Bacon Knight." On the opposite leaf, paged thus, ·33,[37] the design represents a hand holding a spear as in the act of shaking it. But it is the frontispiece which bears specially on the present contention. The design is now reproduced (Fig. IV). A curtain is drawn to hide a figure, the hand only of which is protruding. It has just written the words "Mente Videbor"—"By the mind I shall be seen." Around the scroll are the words "Vivitur ingenio cetera mortis erunt"—one lives in one's genius, other things shall be (or pass away) in death.
That emblem represents the secret of Francis Bacon's life. At a very early age, probably before he was twelve, he had conceived the idea that he would imitate God, that he would hide his works in order that they might be found out—that he would be seen only by his mind and that his image should be concealed. There was no haphazard work about it. It was not simply that having written poems or plays, and desiring not to be known as the author on publishing them, he put someone else's name on the title-page. There was first the conception of the idea, and then the carefully-elaborated scheme for carrying it out.
There are numerous allusions in Elizabethan and early Jacobean literature to someone who was active in literary matters but preferred to remain unrecognised. Amongst these there are some which directly refer to Francis Bacon, others which occur in books or under circumstances which suggest association with him. It is not contended that they amount to direct testimony, but the cumulative force of this evidence must not be ignored. In some of the emblem books of the period these allusions are frequent.