ultimate efficients, or to matter taken generically, (such as are discussed in the disputations of the schools,) but to proximate efficients and preparations of matter. Lest men should labour in these, however, by a vain repetition and refining of experiments, we shall in this part introduce the doctrine of discovering latent processes. Now, we give the name of latent process to a certain series and gradation of changes, formed by the action of an efficient and the motion of parts in matter subjected to that action. The varying of the inquiry as it respects its subjects is derived from two states of things, either from their elementary or compound character, (for there is one modification of the inquiry adapted to things simple, another to things compound, or decomposed, or ambiguous,) or from the copiousness or poverty of the natural history which may have been collected to advance the inquiry. For when the history is rich in facts, the progress of the inquisition is prompt; when limited, it is labour in shackles, and demands manifold assiduity and skill. So, then, by handling the points we have now recounted, we shall have, as it seems to us, sufficiently discussed the varying of the inquiry.

lyses and divides experience, and by proper limitations and rejections comes to necessary conclusions. Now the popular induction (from which the proofs of principles themselves are attempted) is but a puerile toy, concluding at random, and perpetually in risk of being exploded by contradictory instances: insomuch that the dialecticians seem never once to have thought of the subject in earnest, turning from it in a sort of disdain, and hurrying on to other things. Meantime this is manifest, that the conclusions which are attained by any species of induction are at once both discovered and attested, and do not depend on axioms and middle truths, but stand on their own weight of evidence, and require no extrinsic proof. Much more then is it necessary that those axioms which are raised according to the true form of induction, should be of self-contained proof, surer and more solid than what are termed principles themselves; and this kind of induction is what we have been wont to term the formula of interpretation. Therefore it is, that we desire to be careful and luminous, in exposition, above all other topics, of the construction of the axiom and the formula of interpretation. There remain, however, subservient to this end, three things of paramount importance, without explication of which, the rule of inquisition, though potent in the effect, may be regarded as operose in the application. These are the continuing, vary-gression, which shall go direct through circuitous ing, and contracting of the inquiry, so that nothing may be left in the art either half done, or inconsistent, or too much lengthened out for the shortness of man's life. We shall therefore show in the first place the use of axioms (supposing them discovered by the formula,) for inquiring into and raising others higher and more general, so that by a succession of firm and unbroken steps in the ladder of ascent, we may arrive at the unity of nature. In this part, however, we shall add the mode of examining and attesting these higher axioms by the experimental results first obtained, lest we again fall down to conjectures, probabilities, and idol systems. And this is the method which we term the continuing of the inquiry.

The varying of the inquisition accommodates itself to the different nature, either of the causes to ascertain which the inquiry is set on foot, or of the things or subjects about which the inquiry is occupied. Therefore, discarding final causes, which have hitherto utterly vitiated natural philosophy, we shall commence with an inquiry, on the plan of varying and adaptation, into forms, a branch which has hitherto been abandoned as hopeless, and not unreasonably. For no one can be so privileged either in his powers of mind or in his good fortune, as to detect the form of any thing by means of presumptive conjectures and scholastic logic. Then follow the divers sorts of matter and of efficients. Now, when we use the terms matter and efficients, we do not point to

There remains the contracting of the inquiry, so as not only to demonstrate and make patent a way in places pathless before, but a short cut in that way, and as it were a straight line of pro

and perplexed routes. Now this (like every other kind of abridging) consists mainly in the selection of things. And we shall find that there are in things two prerogatives, so to speak, of sovereign efficacy in abridging investigation, the prerogative of the instance, and the prerogative of that which is inquired into. Wherefore, we shall point out in the first place what those instances or experiments are, which are privileged above the rest to give forth light, so that a few of them afford as much weight as a multitude of others. For this both saves accumulation of the history and the toil of beating about indefinitely. We shall, then, expound what are the subjects of inquisition, from which the investigation ought to borrow its prelibation of omens, as those which being first disposed of, carry, as it were, a torch before their successors, either by reason of their own consummate certainty, or generic quality, or from their being indispensable to mechanical trials. And here we close the ministration to reason regarded in its character of contemplative.

The doctrine of the active part of reason and its ministration, we shall comprehend in three directions, first, premising two admonitions to open an entrance into the minds of men. The first of these is, that in the inquiry, proceeding according to the formula laid down, the active part of reason should have a perpetual intercommunion with the contemplative. For the nature of things constrains that the propositions and

axioms inferred and trained down to particular in upon our mind, that what is now done, from and practical uses, by process of reasoning, the supreme importance of the good it contains to should yield only a sort of guesses, exceedingly man, is manifestly of God. And in His workobscure and imperfect. Whereas an axiom drawn ings, every the most insignificant germ of the from particulars to new and corresponding ones, future is pregnant with results. leads on investigation in a broad and indestructible path. The other premonition is this, that we remember that, in the active branch of the inquiry, the business is to be accomplished by means of the ladder of descent, the use of which we waived in the contemplative. For every operation is occupied about individual experiments whose place is at the bottom of all. We must, therefore, descend the steps that lie between general truths and these. Nor, again, is it practicable to get at these by means of axioms taken unconnectedly; for every practical operation, and the mode of performing it, is at once suggested and effected by applying a combination of isolated axioms. With these preliminaries, then, we come to our threefold exposition of the doctrine of active interpretation. The first part propounds a defined and appropriate method of inquiry, in which not the cause or governing axiom, but the effecting of any operation is the object in view, and is submitted to examination. The second shows the way of making general tables with a special view to practice, in which may be much more easily and readily found all sorts of suggestions and indications of works. The third subjoins a mode of ascertaining and striking out new practical uses, an incomplete mode, no doubt, and yet not without utility, which travels from one experiment to another, without deducing of axioms. For, as from axiom to axiom, so from experiment to experiment, there is presented and opened up a passage to discovery, narrow indeed and slippery, yet not to be wholly passed over in silence. And here we conclude the ministration to practice, being the last in the order of distribution. This, then, is a plain and succinct abstract of the second book.

These things being unfolded, we trust to have well constructed and furnished withal, the marriage chamber of mind and the universe, the divine goodness not disdaining to be bridemaid. Let it then be the votive part of the nuptial hymn, that from their union may rise and descend a progeny of helps to man's life, a line, so to speak, of heroes to conquer and command the wants and the miseries of humanity.

At the conclusion, we shall add some remarks on the combination and the succession of scientific efforts. For then, and not till then, shall men know their own strength, not when multitudes devote themselves as now to the same tasks, but when some shall appropriate what is neglected by the rest. Nor, truly, have we abandoned hope of aftertimes, that there shall rise up men to advance to a nobler state a work commencing from such slender beginnings. For it is borne

Now, in the redargution of the received philosophies which we intend, we scarcely know whither at first to turn ourselves, since the avenue to confutation of the same, which was to others open, is to us inhibited. And, besides, so many and so vast are the troops of error which present themselves, that we must overthrow and dislodge them, not in close detail but in mass: and if we would draw near unto them, and try conclusions, hand to hand, with each of them individually, it were in vain: the rule of all reasoning being set aside, differing as we do from them in our principles, and repudiating as we do the very forms and authority of their proofs and demonstrations. And if (which seems to be the only thing left for us to do) we attempted to infer and derive from experience the truths we maintain, we are only turning back to the starting point. And, forgetting what we have discoursed of the preparing of men's minds, we are found going directly the opposite way: and falling all at once and prematurely on nature; to which we have pronounced it absolutely necessary that we open up and pave a way, because of the obdurate prejudices and impediments of the minds of men. Nevertheless, we shall not be wanting to ourselves, but shall try to confront them, and prove our strength, in manner accommodated to our design, both by producing certain tokens from which an estimate may be formed of these philosophies, and meanwhile noting among the philosophies themselves, so as to shake their authority, certain prodigies of perversion, and laughingstocks to intelligence, which they furnish.

Yet it escapes us not that the mass of such errors is too much consolidated to be at once overthrown; especially as among learned men, it is no unusual or unheard-of arrogance, wilfully to reject opinions which they cannot shake. Nor shall we offer aught too light or low for the grandeur of the interest which is at stake, nor in this sort of redargution attempt to make converts to our creed, hoping only meantime to conciliate patience and candour, and that only in minds of a more commanding and decisive order. For no one can betake himself to us, fresh from the habitual and unceasing companionship of such errors, with such openness and greatness of mind, as not to retain some bias to his impressions and opinions in favour of inveterate and established systems. You cannot inscribe, fresh characters on the writing-tablet without expunging the former ones; but, in the mind, you will scarcely obliterate the first drawn characters, save by inscribing others.

This bias, as we think, ought to be counteracted,

note infinite repetitions of the same thing, diver- | what (I pray you) have the Romans or Arabs, sified in words, arrangement, examples, and illustrations, yet in the sum and weight and real effect of things all anticipated, and manifestly only repetitions, so as there is at once poverty and parade, arrogance and miserable jejuneness. And if I may be allowed a colloquial ease and pleasantry on this subject, this learning of yours very much resembles the well known supper of the host of Chalcis, who being asked whence he had such store of different hunter's fare: answered that all his dishes were of the flesh of a tame boar. For you will not deny that the whole of that seeming copiousness is nothing but fragments of the philosophy of the Greeks, and that not reared, to continue the metaphor, in the woods and wilds of nature, but styed up in the schools and scholastic cells like the domesticated animal. For, if you give up the Greeks, and a few Greeks too,

which doth not emanate from, and fall back into,
the systems of Aristotle, Plato, Hippocrates,
Galen, Euclid, and Ptolemy? Thus you see
your entire hopes and fortunes wrapt up in the
weak brains and limited souls of about half-a-dozen
mortals. Yet it was not for this that God im-
planted in you reasonable souls, that you should
obsequiously give up to human beings that part
of you which he vindicates for himself,-implicit
faith due only to the things of God. Nor hath he
allotted to you the firm and vivid informations of
the senses, to contemplate the works of a few men,
but his own works, his heaven and earth, cele-
brating the while his glory in your hearts, and
while you lift up a hymn to your Great Author,
admitting, if you will, these mortals (and where-
fore should you refuse) to a place besides you in
the worshipping choir."
W. G. G.

THE PHENOMENA OF THE UNIVERSE;

OR,

NATURAL HISTORY.

FOR THE BASIS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.

PREFACE.

and empirics, if they conducted their observations and philosophy with more boldness, being accusUPON my taking into consideration the errors tomed to an accurate nicety in some things, bend that prevail with respect to the true grounds of all others by the most singular methods to them; forming theories and conducting experiments, I and give out opinions the most monstrous and felt it my duty myself to remedy these evils, to unnatural. For the one class, out of many things the best of my ability. There cannot indeed be take but little, the other out of but little take much any thing more meritorious than to lead men to into the body of their philosophy; and, to speak throw off the masks of authorities and their blind the truth, the method of either class is unsound, admiration of experiments, and to enter into a and will not hold. But the knowledge of nature nearer communion with things themselves, and a which has been hitherto collected, however copithorough investigation of them. For so our know- ous it may at first sight appear, is really meagre ledge of them will be at once deep and secure, and unprofitable. Neither is it of that kind for and will be moreover at hand, and the sources of which we are inquiring. Nor is it yet cleared of utility will be multiplied. But the first princi- fable and absurdity, but runs out into antiquity ples of this design must be derived from the and philology, and relations of things unconknowledge of nature. For all the philosophy of nected with it, neglecting and rejecting what is the Greeks, with all their different sects, and, solid, but laboriously curious upon trifles. But indeed, whatever other philosophy may be men- the worst of this kind of copiousness is this, that tioned, appears to have been built upon too narrow it embraces the investigation of natural objects, a basis, and on an insufficient acquaintance with and yet for the most part declines the study of For, taking up some few things from things mechanical. And these are the very things experience, and from tradition, and that sometimes which by far excel the others in the searching out without accurate examination, they placed the the secrets of nature, for, nature being of itself rest in meditation and in the exercise of their vast and diffuse, dissipates the mind and con ingenuity; relying too much upon dialectics: but founds it by its variety. But in mechanical opethe chymists and the whole class of mechanics rations the judgment is collected, and the designs

and workings of nature are discerned, and not the | two admonitions which I would give on this head,
effects only. And, besides, all the subtlety of as at other times, so especially now, in proceed-
mechanics stops short of the object which we ing to this very thing: first, that we should dis-
seek. For the person thus employed being intent miss that motion, which, though so thoroughly
upon his work and object, neither raises his mind false and destructive, easily takes possession of
nor stretches forth his hand to other things, and the mind, that the investigation of particular
which perchance avail more to the investigation objects is an infinite and endless task: when the
of nature. There is need, therefore, of greater truth rather is, that there is no bound to mere
care and choice kinds of examination and even of opinions and disputes, but that those fantasies are
expense, and moreover of the greatest patience. condemned to perpetual error and endless uncer-
For this hath rendered every thing in the depart-tainty: but that those particular objects and the
ment of experiment useless, that men have from informations of sense (taking out individuals and
the beginning sought out experiments for the degrees of things, which suffices for the investi-
sake of gain and not of knowledge, and have gation of truth) certainly admit of comprehension,
been intent upon bringing out something magnifi-and that neither too wide and extensive, nor too
cent, not upon revealing the oracles of nature,
which is the work of works, and comprehends all
power in itself. And this evil hath been occa-
sioned by the fastidious curiosity of men, in
generally turning their attention to the secrets
and rarities of nature, and in expending all their
research upon these, passing over experiments
and ordinary observations with contempt. And
they seem to have been determined to this choice
either from the pursuit of applause, or from having
fallen into this error, that the office of philosophy
is as much to trace the cause of ordinary occur-
rences and the remoter causes of those causes, as
it is to harmonize extraordinary with ordinary
events. But the cause of this universal complaint
respecting natural history is chiefly this, that men
have not merely erred in their mode of proceed-
ing, but in their design. For that natural history
which now exists seems to have been composed
either on account of the profitableness of experi-
ments or the pleasure of details, and to have been
made for its own sake, and not to serve as the
elements, and as it were to be the nurse of phi-
losophy and the sciences. It is therefore my
design, as far as lies in my power, to supply this
deficiency. For I have long since made up my
opinion as to the province of abstract philoso-recommenced, and that, with greater helps, and
phies: it is my intention also to adhere to the
methods of true and good induction, in which are
contained all things; and, as it were, by the help
of instruments, or, by a clue to a labyrinth, to
assist as much as possible the power of the human
understanding, of itself inadequate and very une-
qual to the attainment of the sciences. And I am
at the same time aware that if I would include in
that restoration of the sciences, which I have in
contemplation, any greater scope, I might indeed
reap the greater honour.

But since it has pleased God to give me a mind that can learn to yield to circumstances, and out of a sense of real desert and confidence of success to reject with readiness what is only plausible, I have taken upon myself that part of the work which would probably have been passed over by others altogether, or would not have been treated in accordance with my design. And there are

difficult and adventurous. And, secondly, that
men frequently bear the object in mind, and that
when they fall upon the consideration of very
many of the most ordinary, small, and apparently
trivial and even low subjects, and which, as Aris-
totle says, seem to require a previous apology,
they will not think that I am trifling, or taking
down the dignity of the human mind. For these
things are not sought out or described for their
own sakes, but no other way is open to the human
understanding, nor any other method left of pur-
suing this work; since we are attempting an
object of unrivalled importance, and most worthy
of the human mind, to kindle in this our age,
through means offered and applied by the Deity
himself, the pure light of nature, the name indeed
the boast of men, the thing itself entirely un-
known. Nor do I dissemble my opinion that
that preposterous subtlety of arguments and ima-
ginations in the time of which the subtlety and
truth of the first information or true induction was
either passed over or ill set on foot, can never
effect a restoration, though all the genius of past
ages should unite in the design; but that nature
like fortune has her hair only upon her forehead.
It remains, therefore, that the work be entirely

laying aside the heats of opinion, an entrance be
opened into the kingdom of philosophy and of the
sciences, (in which all the wealth of man is stored,
for nature is overcome only by yielding,) in the
same manner as into the kingdom of heaven, into
which we cannot enter but as little children. But
the profit of this work, that plebeian and promis-
cuous advantage derived from experiments them-
selves, we do not altogether condemn, since it can
doubtless marry desirable suggestions to the ob-
servation and invention of men according to their
various arts and talents. But we deem it ex-
tremely small in comparison of that entrance into
human knowledge and power, which, through
the divine mercy, we look for. And of that
mercy we again desire, that it may see fit to
enrich anew the human family through our hands.

The nature of things is either free, as in species,
or confused, as in monsters, or straightened, as in