MEN'S thoughts, are much according to their inclination; their discourse and speeches, according to their learning and infused opinions; but their deeds, are after as they have been accustomed. And therefore, as Machiavel well noteth (though in an evil-favored instance), there is no trusting to the force of nature, nor to the bravery of words, except it be corroborate by custom. His instance is, that for the achieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man should not rest upon the fierceness of any man's nature, or his resolute undertakings; but take such an one, as hath had his hands formerly in blood. But Machiavel knew not of a Friar Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguy, nor a Baltazar Gerard; yet his rule holdeth still, that nature, nor the engagement of words, are not so forcible, as custom. Only superstition is now so well advanced, that men of the first blood, are as firm as butchers by occupation; and votary resolution, is made equipollent to custom, even in matter of blood. In other things, the predominancy of custom is everywhere visible; insomuch as a man would wonder, to hear men profess, protest, engage, give great words, and then do, just as they have done before; as if they were dead images, and engines moved only by the wheels of custom. We see also the reign or tyranny of custom, what it is. The Indians (I mean the sect of their wise men) lay themselves quietly upon a stock of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire. Nay, the wives strive to be burned, with the corpses of their husbands. The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were wont to be scourged upon the altar of Diana, without so much as queching. I remember, in the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's time of England, an Irish rebel condemned, put up a petition to the deputy, that he might be hanged in a withe, and not in an halter; because it had been so used, with former rebels. There be monks in Russia, for penance, that will sit a whole night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged with hard ice. Many examples may be put of the force of custom, both upon mind and body. Therefore, since custom is the principal magistrate of man's life, let men by all means endeavor, to obtain good customs. Certainly custom is most perfect, when it beginneth in young years: this we call education; which is, in effect, but an early custom. So we see, in languages, the tongue is more pliant to all expressions and sounds, the joints are more supple, to all feats of activity and motions, in youth than afterwards. For it is true, that late learners cannot so well take the ply; except it be in some minds, that have not suffered themselves to fix, but have kept themselves open, and prepared to receive continual amendment, which is exceeding rare. But if the force of custom simple and separate, be great, the force of custom copulate and conjoined and collegiate, is far greater. For there example teacheth, company comforteth, emulation quickeneth, glory raiseth: so as in such places the force of custom is in his exaltation. Certainly the great multiplication of virtues upon human nature, resteth upon societies well ordained and disciplined. For commonwealths, and good governments, do nourish virtue grown but do not much mend the deeds. But the misery is, that the most effectual means, are now applied to the ends, least to be desired.
People’s thoughts largely follow their natural inclinations. Their talk reflects their learning and the opinions instilled in them. But their actions follow their habits. As Machiavelli rightly observes, neither natural character nor bold words can be trusted unless habit supports them. His example, however, is an ugly one. He says that anyone planning a desperate conspiracy should not rely on another person’s fierce nature or determined promises. Instead, he should choose someone who has already had blood on his hands. But Machiavelli knew nothing of Friar Clement, Ravaillac, Jaureguy, or Balthasar Gerard. Still, his rule holds true. Neither natural character nor binding promises are as powerful as habit. Yet superstition has now grown so strong that first-time killers are as steady as professional butchers. Determination strengthened by religious vows has become as powerful as habit, even in bloodshed. In other matters, the power of habit is visible everywhere. It is astonishing to hear people declare, protest, promise, and speak grandly, then act exactly as they did before. They seem like lifeless statues or machines driven only by the wheels of habit. We also see how habit rules, even tyrannizes. Among the Indians, members of a sect of wise men lie calmly on a pile of wood. There they sacrifice themselves by fire. Their wives even compete to be burned with their husbands’ bodies. In ancient Sparta, boys were regularly whipped at Diana’s altar without so much as flinching. I remember a condemned Irish rebel petitioning the governor early in Queen Elizabeth’s reign in England. He asked to be hanged with a twisted twig rather than a rope, as earlier rebels had been. Some Russian monks, as penance, sit all night in a container of water until hard ice traps them. Many examples could show the power of habit over both mind and body. Since habit is the chief ruler of human life, people should make every effort to develop good habits. Certainly, habit reaches its fullest strength when it begins in youth. We call this education, which is really nothing more than early habit. In learning languages, the young tongue adapts more easily to every expression and sound. Young joints are also more flexible for every kind of physical skill and movement. Those who learn late cannot adapt so well. Exceptions exist among minds that have avoided becoming fixed and remained open and ready for continual improvement. But such minds are exceedingly rare. If habit is powerful in an individual alone, it is far more powerful when shared and reinforced within organized groups. There, example teaches, companionship encourages, rivalry spurs effort, and the prospect of glory inspires. In such places, habit reaches the height of its power. Certainly, well-organized and disciplined societies are the chief means of greatly increasing virtue in human beings. States and good governments nurture virtue once it has grown, but do little to improve people’s actions. The tragedy is that the most effective means are now used for the least desirable ends.