Found. They affirm that that close following | has prescribed, in the planets both of the greater and cosmical rolling in fluids is their whirling and lesser orbit. They affirm the following after tendency to become consistent, till at length they the sun, from the defective nature of weaker reach a state of perfect rest. They deny that the flames, of Venus and Mercury; since even the stars are fixed like knots in a board. They deny moving stars, the attendants of Jupiter, have been that eccentric circles, epicycles, and such like discovered by Galilæus. But these are matters crafty devices are realities. They affirm that a of which we, standing as it were in the threshold magnetic motion, or one having a power to collect of natural history, and of philosophy, take a matter together, is in full vigour in the stars, by prospective view-subjects which, probably, the which fire elicits fire, and elevates it. They inquirer will be better qualified to prove, in proaffirm that, in the firmament of the planets, the portion to the depth of his researches into natural bodies of the planets move and revolve quicker history. But, again, however, do we enter our than the rest of the heavens in which they are protest against this fetter of intellect. In these, placed, which certainly revolves, but slower. as in other matters, we are sure of the correctness They affirm from that inequality the waves, the of our career, though we be not so persuaded as undulations, the flowings and ebbings of the to the station we are entitled to hold in it. But ethereal atmosphere of the planets; and from we have mentioned these topics during our intelthem that various motions are drawn forth. They lectual journey, lest any one should suppose, that affirm a necessity in the planets of revolving from a wavering judgment, or a destitution of quicker or slower, according as they may be talent to maintain the position, we had a preference placed higher or lower in the heavens, and that for advocating negative questions. from the consent of the universe. But at the Wherefore, we will retain, as the heavenly nasame time they affirm the languor, resulting from tures are wont to do, (since our treatise is of them,) an incitement in their course beyond what naturela dignified constancy. THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS OF FRANCIS BACON, OF VERULAM, CONCERNING THE INTERPRETATION OF NATURE, OR THE INVENTION OF THINGS AND OF WORKS. FRANCIS BACON thought in this manner. The knowledge whereof mankind is now possessed doth not extend to certainty and magnitude of works. Physicians pronounce many diseases incurable, and often make mistakes, and fail in the treatment of the rest. Alchymists wax old and die in the embraces of hope. The works of magicians are transitory and barren. The mechanical arts take but little light from philosophy, and do but spin on slowly the little threads of their own experience. Chance is, without doubt, a beneficial discoverer of inventions; but one that scatters her favours among men in distant ages and periods. So he saw well, that the inventions of man, which we possess, must be counted very imperfect and immature; and that, in the present state of the sciences, are not now to be expected, except in a great length of time; and that those which human industry has hitherto produced cannot be ascribed to philosophy. He thought also, that in this narrowness of man's power, that is most deplorable at present, and ominous for the future; that men, contrary to their real interest, strive to rescue ignorance from shame, and to satisfy themselves in this poverty. For, the physician, besides the cautels of practice, (in which there are no small means of defending the credit of his art,) calls in what is, as it were, a general cautel of art, by turning into a reproach upon nature the weakness of his art; and, what art doth not reach, that he discharges from art upon nature, as an impossibility; neither can art be condemned, when itself judges. That philosophy also, out of which the knowledge of physic, which now is in use, is hewn, itself receives and cherishes certain positions and opinions, which, if they be well weighed, induce this persuasion, that nothing arduous or powerful in nature is to be expected from art, and the hand of man. Hence that opinion, that "the heat of the sun or star, and the heat of a fire differ in kind ;" and that other, that "composition is the work of man, but mixture is the work of nature alone," and the like; which, if they be carefully examined, all tend to an envious circumscription of human power, and a voluntary and artificial despair, which rejects not only the auguries of hope, but the chances of experiment, and cuts away all the incitements and nerves of industry; while they are solicitous, only, that their art be thought perfect, and labour for a most worthless vainglory; namely, to have it believed that all is impossible that is not already found. But the alchymist, to relieve his art, throws the blame on his own errors, accusing himself, either of not fully understanding the terms of the art and its authors, which makes him attend to the whispers of tradition and oral evidence; or else of failing in the true proportions, and scruples, and moments of practice; which makes him renew infinitely his trials, under what he supposes more favourable prospects. And, meantime, when, in the mazy labyrinth of experiment, he lights upon certain inventions, either new in appearance or of some utility, he feeds his mind with such foretastes, and displays and magnifies them above their value, and supplies the rest in hopes. The magician, when he finds something, as he conceives, above nature effected, and is convinced that a breach is once made in nature, gives his imagination wings, and scarcely allows that the matter admits of degrees of greater or less; wherefore, he assures himself of arriving at the highest power; not seeing that they are but subjects of a certain and almost definite kind, wherein magic and superstition, in all ages and countries, have had power and played. The mechanical person, if he chances to add a higher finish or more elegant ornament to previous inventions, or to compound, and bring together into one, separate observations; or to couple things more commodiously and naturally with their use; or to produce the work in greater or less mass and volume than has usually been the case; ranks himself at length among inventors. So he saw well, that men came to sneer at the invention of new things and arts as a vain attempt, and not to be relied on; or to believe that important inventions are indeed extant, but confined among a few, in the strictest silence and mystery; or else that they descend to account those little industries and additions, inventions. All which turns to the averting of men's minds from just and constant labour, and from the working of inventions, noble and worthy of the human race. He thought also, when men did set before themselves the variety and exquisite perfection of works supplied for human life by the mechanical arts; they are apt rather to admire the provisions of man, than to apprehend his want; not considering that the original observations of man and operations of nature, which are, as it were, the breath and life of all that variety, are not many nor deeply fetched; and that the rest belongs to man's patience, and the subtile and ruled motion of his hand or instruments; and that in this the shop is very like the library, which exhibits such a variety of books, in which, if one carefully examine, he will find nothing but infinite iterations of the same thing, varied in the form and mode of treatment, but preoccupied in invention. So he saw plainly, that opinion of abundance was one of the causes of want; and that both works and doctrines appear many, but are, when examined, few. He thought also that those doctrines which we have, are presented with a kind of ambition and pretension, and come before us dressed up and in form, as if each art were in every branch perfect and finished. For it is reduced into such methods and divisions, as seem to embrace and include all treatises that can possibly bear on that subject. And however weakly the parts are filled, and destitute of any living seeds of things: yet they carry the show and reason of a total; and it is brought to this, that a few writings of some received authors, yet not the best chosen, go for the very art in its perfection. Whereas the earliest searches for truth in better faith, and with more fortunate event, used to throw into aphorisms or sentences short, scattered, and unconfined by method, the knowledge which it was their object to gather from the consideration of things, and to store up for use; which, as they showed simple representations of things discovered, and evident spaces and vacancies for things not discovered, were less fallacious; and invited men's talents and thoughts alike to criticism and invention. But now sciences are exhibited in such forms, as to claim belief, not solicit judgment, and check with a sullen authority the generous springings of invention: so that every succession and devolution of philosophy bears the character of master and disciple, not of inventor and continuer; whence it necessarily follows that sciences continue in their own steps, and never stir from their ground. This has been done for many ages, so that what is positive is fixed, and that which is question is kept question, and remains wholly in the same state. And, therefore, he saw plainly, that columns against proceeding further are firmly and, as it were, fatally pitched; and that it is no marvel, that that is not obtained, for which men feel neither hope nor desire. He thought also, that what is said of men's despondency or self-conceit, as far as concerns most of the pursuers of science, is too deeply fetched, for far the greater part is otherwise occupied. They seek knowledge either for delight and satisfaction, or for profit and professional emo- | a kind of priming, that they may take a second lument, or for support and ornament of the reputation and if these are proposed as the ends of sciences, so far will men be from wishing that the mass of knowledge receive an increase, that, in that stock which is at hand, they will seek no more than what they can turn to use in the matter before them. And if any one among so many seeks knowledge with an honest zeal and for its own sake, yet he will be found to hunt rather after variety than truth. And if he be a severer inquisitor of truth, yet that very truth will be such as will rather explain more subtly things already uttered, than kindle any new light. And if his heart is so large, that he propounds to himself further discovery, he will doubtless be most taken with that light which displays in the distance specious contemplations, not that which shows important works and inventions close at hand. So he saw plainly that we return to this point, that it is by no means wonderful that the course is not finished, when men turn aside to these lesser matters and much more when, as far as he can see, the mark itself has never been set up and fixed for any man. But the mark is no other, than that mankind be continually enriched with new works and powers. wash in a kindlier and better manner. So he saw plainly, that, from the small number, and hurry, and rawness of its followers, natural philosophy is left destitute. And soon after, he saw also that this had a very great influence on the general state of knowledge: for all the arts and sciences, when torn up from this root, may perhaps be polished and moulded to use, but will grow no further. He thought also, how prejudicial and every way hard an adversary natural philosophy has in superstition and the immoderate and blind zeal of religion. For he found that some of the Grecians who first propounded the natural causes of thunder and storm, to men unused to such speculations, were condemned, on that ground, for impiety: and that the cosmographers, who, by most certain proofs, which no man in his senses would now dispute, asserted the spherical figure of the earth, and consequently the existence of antipodes; were not much better treated, but included in the same sentence, not indeed affecting life, but character, on the accusation of some of the ancient fathers of the Christian church. And the case of natural history is now much worse, in regard of the boldness of the schoolmen and their dependencies, who having, as far as they can, reduced divinity into method, and given it the form of an art; having attempted moreover to incorporate the contentions and turbulent philosophy of Aristotle He thought also, that among these difficulties of the sciences, the case of natural philosophy has been the hardest of all: inasmuch as it has had but a trifling share of men's labour, has been read-into the body of their religion. And it has the ily deserted, and never cultivated and matured in any high degree. For since the Christian faith has grown up and been received, the greatest number of wits have been employed upon divinity, and in this subject the highest rewards have been offered to men's studies, and aids of every kind most plentifully supplied. And before-time, likewise, the greatest of the labours of philosophers was consumed in moral philosophy, which was almost in the place of divinity to the heathens. And in both times great part of the best wits betook themselves to public business, especially in the time of the greatness of the Romans, who by reason of their large empire needed the service of the most. But the time among the Grecians, in which natural philosophy seemed most to flourish, was but a short space, and that also abused and thrown away in disputing, and affecting new opinions. But from that time to this, no one can be named, who has made it his business to cultivate natural philosophy, and consumed his life in its pursuit; so that this science has not for ages possessed any whole man, unless perchance one may instance some monk studying in a cloister, or some gentleman in the country, and that will be found very rare. But it has become a kind of passage and bridge to other arts, and this venerable mother of the sciences is turned into their handmaid, and made to serve physic and practical mathematics, or to season a little, young and unripe wits, like same tendency that, in our time, no opinions or arguments are found to have more success, than those which celebrate with great pomp and solemnity the union, as if it were a lawful one, between divinity and philosophy, that is, faith and sense; and while they tickle men's minds with an agreeable variety, are meantime making an unhallowed conjunction of divine and human matters. And, truly, if one observes carefully, as great danger threatens natural philosophy from this kind of hollow and ill assorted league, as from avowed hostility. For, in a treaty and confederation of this nature, only the received maxims of philosophy are included; but every thing of advancement or improvement is most rigorously and obstinately shut out. In fine, with respect to augmentations, and what may be called the new shores and tracts of philosophy, all from the side of religion is full of grovelling suspicion, and impotent disdain. Thus, some in their simplicity fear that my deeper inquisition into nature may penetrate perchance beyond the allowed and sanctioned limit of sobriety, improperly applying what is said of the secrets of God, many of which remain closed under the divine signet, to the secrets of nature which are guarded by no interdict. Others, with greater cunning, conceive that if men are ignorant of second causes, each particular may be more easily referred to the wand of the deity which they think is of the highest interest to religion; though this is no other than seeking to flatter God with a lie. Others tremble for the precedent, lest the shifting and changes of philosophy end with attacking religion. Others, lastly, seem in fear that, in the inquisition of nature, something may be found to shake religion. Both which opinions savour of a sort of incredulity and worldly policy, but the last cannot even be brought into doubt or question without impiety! From which it was sufficiently clear, that in opinions of this kind there is much weakness, and not a little envy and bitterness. For natural philosophy is, next to the divine word, the most certain remedy of superstition, and the most wholesome food of faith; and is, therefore, rightly considered the truest and loveliest handmaid of religion; the one displaying the will of God, the other his power. So that he was not wrong who said: "Ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of God," joining in an intimate union, information of his will, and meditation on his power. But, though this is most certain, it still remains among the most effectual hindrances to natural philosophy, that all which is pronounced by blind zeal and superstition is considered out of the reach of dispute. sides that denies a fair opening to the increase of knowledge. For most men, unjust to the present times, hang upon antiquity, and believe that if we, who now live, had had the office of first attempting what was sought for and discovered by the ancients, we should not have come up to their works by a great space. And in like manner they believe that if a man even now, relying upon his own powers, attempt to begin anew an inquisition, the end will be, that he will either come to the very conclusion that was approved of by antiquity; or else to some one, which, having been long ago decided upon and rejected by antiquity, deservedly fell into oblivion. Others, altogether slighting the powers of human nature at both periods, ancient and modern, fall into a fanciful and superstitious belief that the elements of the sciences emanated from spiritual beings, and that new inventions in the same manner may receive assistance from their authority and concurrence. Others, of more sober and chastened imagination, but greater diffidence, openly despair of any increase of knowledge, from reflecting on the obscurity of nature, the shortness of life, the uncertainty of the senses, the weakness of the judgment, and the difficulties and unbounded variety of experiments. So that such swelling hopes, as promise more than we now have, are the offspring of a weak and unripened mind, and will no doubt have their beginning in exultation, their middle course in difficulty, and their end in confusion; and there is as little hope of the reward as of the accomplishment; for knowledges evidently breed and expand in great and excellent wits, but the estimation and price of them is in the multitude, or in the inclinations of princes and great persons meanly learned. So that the projection of sciences and the judgment upon them are not in the same; whence it comes that those inventions only succeed which are accommodated to popular reason and common sense; as happened in the case of Democritus' theory of atoms, which being a little too remote, was treated with ridicule. He thought also, that, in the orders and customs of schools, colleges, and such conventual bodies, all is found to be adverse to the further progress of the sciences. For much the greater part are professors, and in the receipt of emoluments. And the lectures and exercises are so arranged that nothing out of the common routine can easily arise in any one's mind. But if a man chance to use the liberty of inquiry and judgment, he will soon find himself left in a great solitude. And if ever he can bear this, he will yet find that, in achieving his fortune, this industry and magnanimity will be much hindrance to him. For in places of this kind men's studies are almost confined to the writings of certain authors; from which, if any one disagrees, or propounds matter of argument, he is immediately set down as a turbulent person and an innovator. Though, if one judge fairly, there is a great difference between | Hence, sublime views of nature, which, almost the government of civil affairs and the arts; for the danger is not alike of new light, and of new motion. It is true that in civil affairs change, though for the better, is suspected from fear of disorder; since governments rest on authority, consent, credit, opinion, not on demonstration and truth in abstract. But in the arts and sciences, as in mines, all sides should resound with new works and further progress. And it is so in right reason. But in real life, he saw that the government and administration of the knowledge, which is in use, presses cruelly, and checks the increase and growth of science. He thought also, that, even in the opinion and common feeling of men, much appears on all VOL. I.-54 like religion, must enter the senses of men with difficulty, may be now and then conceived, but (unless proved and recommended by evident and exceeding utility, which hitherto has not. been the case) are generally in a short time blown and extinguished by the winds of common opinions; so that time, like a river, is wont to bring down to us what is light and blown up, while it sinks and drowns that which is solid and grave. So he saw well that the hindrances of an improved state of the sciences were not only external and adventitious, but innate also, and drawn from our very senses. Moreover, he thought that the vagueness and irregular form of words mocks the understanding 2N2 and, as it were, attacks it; for words are like | coins which represent the image and authority of he people; for they always compound and classify according to popular notions and accepta on, which are for the most part erroneous and very confused; so that even infants in learning to speak, are compelled to suck in and swallow a pernicious system of error. And though the wise and learned endeavour by various contrivances to deliver themselves from this bondage, by making new words, which is harsh, and by inserting definitions, which is troublesome, they cannot, with all their strength, throw off the yoke; so that innumerable controversies, even in the most acute discussions, are raised about words, and, what is much worse, that depraved coinage of words reflects its rays and impressions into the mind itself, and is thus not only a hindrance in discourse, but injurious also to the judgment and understanding. So he saw well, that, among the internal causes of error, he must place this as one serious and pernicious import. He thought also that there is found in the mind of man a certain affection, naturally bred and fortified by some men's opinion and doctrine, which has checked and prevented the true proceeding of natural philosophy, that is, the active and operative kind. This is a rotten and pernicious idea or estimation, that the majesty of man's mind suffers diminution, if it be long and deeply conversant with experiences and particulars subject to sense, and bound in matter: especially as such things usually appear laborious to search, ignoble to meditate, harsh to deliver, illiberal to practise, infinite in number, and contemptible in their minuteness; and, though such qualities as these no ways accommodate to the glory of the arts. And this opinion or state of mind received much strength from another wild and unfounded opinion, which held that truth is innate in the mind of man, and not introduced from without, and that the senses rather excite than inform the understanding. Neither has this error, and (to describe it truly) delusion of mind, been any ways corrected by those who have given to sense these, by their example and practice, deserting altogether natural history and actual experience, rested only upon agitation of wit, and grovelled without ceasing among the darkest idols of the understanding, under the suspicious name of contemplation and reason. So he saw well that this rejection and divorce of particulars has thrown the human family into total disorder. He thought, also, that we should not make our conjecture from the hindrances we meet with; only, since it is possible that the fortune of man barriers. Hence, we must consider and examine closely the nature of that philosophy which is received, and whatever other, from ancient times, has been cast upon our shores, like the spars of a sunken vessel. And he found that the natural philosophy which we have from the Greeks is to be accounted a kind of childhood of science; and that its properties are those which belong to boys, that is, it is forward to chatter, but immature and unqualified for generation. He thought also that, besides the usual difficulties of the sciences and knowledge, natural phi-the due, that is, the first place. Nay, more, even losophy, particularly the active and operative, had its peculiar drawbacks and impediments. For it has been notably hurt and discredited by some of its professors, light and vain men, who, partly from credulity, partly from craft, have loaded the human race with promises, offering promulgation of life, delay of infirmity, relief from pain, supply of natural defects, deceptions of the senses, the binding or inciting of the affections, illuminations of the mental powers, ecstasies, transmuting of substances, unlimited multiplication of motions, impressions on the air and changes of it, divina-kind may overcome these difficulties and burst the tion of future events, representations of distant occurrences, revelations of mysteries, and many other things. Now, in considering these liberal givers, we shall not be far wrong if we pass a judgment like this: that there is as much difference in philosophy, between their triflings and the true arts, as there is in history between the wars of Julius Cæsar or Alexander, and those of Amadis de Gaul or Arthur of Britain. For it is evident that those renowned generals achieved more in reality than the other shadowy heroes are pretended to have done, but by means and ways of action not at all fabulous or supernatural. So that it is not just to deny credit to true history, because it is sometimes wounded and injured by fabulous stories. For Ixion of a cloud begat the Centaurs, yet still, of the real Juno, Jove begat Hebe and Vulcan, that is, the lovely and divine virtues of nature and art. But though this is true, and it shows, great ignorance to be incredulous without distinction; yet, he saw well that the access to truth was formerly shut up, or at least narrowed by fables of this kind, and that the ignominy of vanity even now abates all greatness of mind. Aristotle, by common consent the chief of that philosophy, without ever meddling with the observation of nature, has been unprofitably employed on stale opinions, and on their comparison, opposition, and reduction. Nor is it reasonable to hope for any thing solid from one who has made up the world itself of categories. For, it is of little concern whether we lay down that matter, form, and privation, or substance, quality, and relation, are the real principles: but we had best pass by those controversies; for it would be inconsistent to set about a formal confutation, when we neither agree about the principles, nor the modes of demonstration; and, again, to lash with ridicule one who has obtained an authority almost |