No More Learning

LXXXI. There is another powerful and great cause of the little
advancement of the sciences, which is this; it is impossible to advance
properly in the course when the goal is not properly fixed. But the
real and legitimate goal of the sciences is the endowment of human
life with new inventions and riches. The great crowd of teachers know
nothing of this, but consist of dictatorial hirelings; unless it so
happen that some artisan of an acute genius, and ambitious of fame,
gives up his time to a new discovery, which is generally attended with
a loss of property. The majority, so far from proposing to themselves
the augmentation of the mass of arts and sciences, make no other use
of an inquiry into the mass already before them, than is afforded by
the conversion of it to some use in their lectures, or to gain, or
to the acquirement of a name, and the like. But if one out of the
multitude be found, who courts science from real zeal, and on his own
account, even he will be seen rather to follow contemplation, and the
variety of theories, than a severe and strict investigation of truth.
Again, if there even be an unusually strict investigator of truth, yet
will he propose to himself, as the test of truth, the satisfaction
of his mind and understanding, as to the causes of things long since
known, and not such a test as to lead to some new earnest of effects,
and a new light in axioms. If, therefore, no one have laid down the
real end of science, we cannot wonder that there should be error in
points subordinate to that end.

LXXXII. But, in like manner, as the end and goal of science is
ill defined, so, even were the case otherwise, men have chosen an
erroneous and impassable direction. For it is sufficient to astonish
any reflecting mind, that nobody should have cared or wished to open
and complete a way for the understanding, setting off from the senses,
and regular, well-conducted experiment; but that everything has been
abandoned either to the mists of tradition, the whirl and confusion of
argument, or the waves and mazes of chance, and desultory, ill-combined
experiment. Now, let any one but consider soberly and diligently
the nature of the path men have been accustomed to pursue in the
investigation and discovery of any matter, and he will doubtless first
observe the rude and inartificial manner of discovery most familiar to
mankind: which is no other than this. When any one prepares himself for
discovery, he first inquires and obtains a full account of all that
has been said on the subject by others, then adds his own reflections,
and stirs up and, as it were, invokes his own spirit, after much
mental labor, to disclose its oracles. All which is a method without
foundation, and merely turns on opinion.

Another, perhaps, calls in logic to assist him in discovery, which
bears only a nominal relation to his purpose. For the discoveries of
logic are not discoveries of principles and leading axioms, but only
of what appears to accord with them. [46] And when men become curious
and importunate, and give trouble, interrupting her about her proofs,
and the discovery of principles or first axioms, she puts them off with
her usual answer, referring them to faith, and ordering them to swear
allegiance to each art in its own department.

There remains but mere experience, which, when it offers itself, is
called chance; when it is sought after, experiment. [47] But this kind
of experience is nothing but a loose fagot; and mere groping in the
dark, as men at night try all means of discovering the right road,
while it would be better and more prudent either to wait for day, or
procure a light, and then proceed. On the contrary, the real order of
experience begins by setting up a light, and then shows the road by it,
commencing with a regulated and digested, not a misplaced and vague
course of experiment, and thence deducing axioms, and from those axioms
new experiments: for not even the Divine Word proceeded to operate on
the general mass of things without due order.

Let men, therefore, cease to wonder if the whole course of science be
not run, when all have wandered from the path; quitting it entirely,
and deserting experience, or involving themselves in its mazes, and
wandering about, while a regularly combined system would lead them in
a sure track through its wilds to the open day of axioms.

LXXXIII. The evil, however, has been wonderfully increased by an
opinion, or inveterate conceit, which is both vainglorious and
prejudicial, namely, that the dignity of the human mind is lowered by
long and frequent intercourse with experiments and particulars, which
are the objects of sense, and confined to matter; especially since such
matters generally require labor in investigation, are mean subjects
for meditation, harsh in discourse, unproductive in practice, infinite
in number, and delicate in their subtilty. Hence we have seen the true
path not only deserted, but intercepted and blocked up, experience
being rejected with disgust, and not merely neglected or improperly
applied.

LXXXIV. Again, the reverence for antiquity,[48] and the authority of
men who have been esteemed great in philosophy, and general unanimity,
have retarded men from advancing in science, and almost enchanted them.
As to unanimity, we have spoken of it above.

The opinion which men cherish of antiquity is altogether idle, and
scarcely accords with the term. For the old age and increasing years
of the world should in reality be considered as antiquity, and this is
rather the character of our own times than of the less advanced age of
the world in those of the ancients; for the latter, with respect to
ourselves, are ancient and elder, with respect to the world modern
and younger. And as we expect a greater knowledge of human affairs,
and more mature judgment from an old man than from a youth, on account
of his experience, and the variety and number of things he has seen,
heard, and meditated upon, so we have reason to expect much greater
things of our own age (if it knew but its strength and would essay and
exert it) than from antiquity, since the world has grown older, and its
stock has been increased and accumulated with an infinite number of
experiments and observations.

We must also take into our consideration that many objects in nature
fit to throw light upon philosophy have been exposed to our view, and
discovered by means of long voyages and travels, in which our times
have abounded. It would, indeed, be dishonorable to mankind, if the
regions of the material globe, the earth, the sea, and stars, should
be so prodigiously developed and illustrated in our age, and yet the
boundaries of the intellectual globe should be confined to the narrow
discoveries of the ancients.

With regard to authority, it is the greatest weakness to attribute
infinite credit to particular authors, and to refuse his own
prerogative to time, the author of all authors, and, therefore, of all
authority. For truth is rightly named the daughter of time, not of
authority. It is not wonderful, therefore, if the bonds of antiquity,
authority, and unanimity, have so enchained the power of man, that he
is unable (as if bewitched) to become familiar with things themselves.

LXXXV. Nor is it only the admiration of antiquity, authority, and
unanimity, that has forced man’s industry to rest satisfied with
present discoveries, but, also, the admiration of the effects already
placed within his power. For whoever passes in review the variety
of subjects, and the beautiful apparatus collected and introduced by
the mechanical arts for the service of mankind, will certainly be
rather inclined to admire our wealth than to perceive our poverty:
not considering that the observations of man and operations of nature
(which are the souls and first movers of that variety) are few, and
not of deep research; the rest must be attributed merely to man’s
patience, and the delicate and well-regulated motion of the hand or of
instruments. To take an instance, the manufacture of clocks is delicate
and accurate, and appears to imitate the heavenly bodies in its wheels,
and the pulse of animals in its regular oscillation, yet it only
depends upon one or two axioms of nature.

Again, if one consider the refinement of the liberal arts, or even that
exhibited in the preparation of natural bodies in mechanical arts and
the like, as the discovery of the heavenly motions in astronomy, of
harmony in music, of the letters of the alphabet[49] (still unadopted
by the Chinese) in grammar; or, again, in mechanical operations, the
productions of Bacchus and Ceres, that is, the preparation of wine
and beer, the making of bread, or even the luxuries of the table,
distillation, and the like; if one reflect also, and consider for how
long a period of ages (for all the above, except distillation, are
ancient) these things have been brought to their present state of
perfection, and (as we instanced in clocks) to how few observations and
axioms of nature they may be referred, and how easily, and as it were,
by obvious chance or contemplation, they might be discovered, one
would soon cease to admire and rather pity the human lot on account of
its vast want and dearth of things and discoveries for so many ages.
Yet even the discoveries we have mentioned were more ancient than
philosophy and the intellectual arts; so that (to say the truth) when
contemplation and doctrinal science began, the discovery of useful
works ceased.

But if any one turn from the manufactories to libraries, and be
inclined to admire the immense variety of books offered to our view,
let him but examine and diligently inspect the matter and contents of
these books, and his astonishment will certainly change its object: for
when he finds no end of repetitions, and how much men do and speak the
same thing over again, he will pass from admiration of this variety to
astonishment at the poverty and scarcity of matter, which has hitherto
possessed and filled men’s minds.

But if any one should condescend to consider such sciences as are
deemed rather curious than sound, and take a full view of the
operations of the alchemists or magii, he will perhaps hesitate whether
he ought rather to laugh or to weep. For the alchemist cherishes
eternal hope, and when his labors succeed not, accuses his own
mistakes, deeming, in his self-accusation, that he has not properly
understood the words of art or of his authors; upon which he listens
to tradition and vague whispers, or imagines there is some slight
unsteadiness in the minute details of his practice, and then has
recourse to an endless repetition of experiments: and in the meantime,
when, in his casual experiments, he falls upon something in appearance
new, or of some degree of utility, he consoles himself with such an
earnest, and ostentatiously publishes them, keeping up his hope of
the final result. Nor can it be denied that the alchemists have made
several discoveries, and presented mankind with useful inventions. But
we may well apply to them the fable of the old man, who bequeathed to
his sons some gold buried in his garden, pretending not to know the
exact spot, whereupon they worked diligently in digging the vineyard,
and though they found no gold, the vintage was rendered more abundant
by their labor.

The followers of natural magic, who explain everything by sympathy
and antipathy, have assigned false powers and marvellous operations
to things by gratuitous and idle conjectures: and if they have ever
produced any effects, they are rather wonderful and novel than of any
real benefit or utility.

In superstitious magic (if we say anything at all about it) we must
chiefly observe, that there are only some peculiar and definite objects
with which the curious and superstitious arts have, in every nation and
age, and even under every religion, been able to exercise and amuse
themselves. Let us, therefore, pass them over. In the meantime we
cannot wonder that the false notion of plenty should have occasioned
want.

LXXXVI. The admiration of mankind with regard to the arts and sciences,
which is of itself sufficiently simple and almost puerile, has been
increased by the craft and artifices of those who have treated the
sciences, and delivered them down to posterity. For they propose and
produce them to our view so fashioned, and as it were masked, as to
make them pass for perfect and complete. For if you consider their
method and divisions, they appear to embrace and comprise everything
which can relate to the subject. And although this frame be badly
filled up and resemble an empty bladder, yet it presents to the vulgar
understanding the form and appearance of a perfect science.

The first and most ancient investigators of truth were wont, on the
contrary, with more honesty and success, to throw all the knowledge
they wished to gather from contemplation, and to lay up for use, into
aphorisms, or short scattered sentences unconnected by any method, and
without pretending or professing to comprehend any entire art. But
according to the present system, we cannot wonder that men seek nothing
beyond that which is handed down to them as perfect, and already
extended to its full complement.

LXXXVII. The ancient theories have received additional support and
credit from the absurdity and levity of those who have promoted the
new, especially in the active and practical part of natural philosophy.
For there have been many silly and fantastical fellows who, from
credulity or imposture, have loaded mankind with promises, announcing
and boasting of the prolongation of life, the retarding of old age,
the alleviation of pains, the remedying of natural defects, the
deception of the senses, the restraint and excitement of the passions,
the illumination and exaltation of the intellectual faculties, the
transmutation of substances, the unlimited intensity and multiplication
of motion, the impressions and changes of the air, the bringing into
our power the management of celestial influences, the divination of
future events, the representation of distant objects, the revelation of
hidden objects, and the like. One would not be very wrong in observing
with regard to such pretenders, that there is as much difference in
philosophy, between their absurdity and real science, as there is in
history between the exploits of Cæsar or Alexander, and those of
Amadis de Gaul and Arthur of Britain. For those illustrious generals
are found to have actually performed greater exploits than such
fictitious heroes are even pretended to have accomplished, by the
means, however, of real action, and not by any fabulous and portentous
power. Yet it is not right to suffer our belief in true history to be
diminished, because it is sometimes injured and violated by fables. In
the meantime we cannot wonder that great prejudice has been excited
against any new propositions (especially when coupled with any mention
of effects to be produced), by the conduct of impostors who have
made a similar attempt; for their extreme absurdity, and the disgust
occasioned by it, has even to this day overpowered every spirited
attempt of the kind.

LXXXVIII. Want of energy, and the littleness and futility of the tasks
that human industry has undertaken, have produced much greater injury
to the sciences: and yet (to make it still worse) that very want of
energy manifests itself in conjunction with arrogance and disdain.

For, in the first place, one excuse, now from its repetition become
familiar, is to be observed in every art, namely, that its promoters
convert the weakness of the art itself into a calumny upon nature:
and whatever it in their hands fails to effect, they pronounce to be
physically impossible. But how can the art ever be condemned while it
acts as judge in its own cause? Even the present system of philosophy
cherishes in its bosom certain positions or dogmas, which (it will be
found on diligent inquiry) are calculated to produce a full conviction
that no difficult, commanding, and powerful operation upon nature ought
to be anticipated through the means of art; we instanced[50] above the
alleged different quality of heat in the sun and fire, and composition
and mixture. Upon an accurate observation the whole tendency of such
positions is wilfully to circumscribe man’s power, and to produce a
despair of the means of invention and contrivance, which would not only
confound the promises of hope, but cut the very springs and sinews of
industry, and throw aside even the chances of experience. The only
object of such philosophers is to acquire the reputation of perfection
for their own art, and they are anxious to obtain the most silly and
abandoned renown, by causing a belief that whatever has not yet been
invented and understood can never be so hereafter. But if any one
attempt to give himself up to things, and to discover something new;
yet he will only propose and destine for his object the investigation
and discovery of some one invention, and nothing more; as the nature
of the magnet, the tides, the heavenly system, and the like, which
appear enveloped in some degree of mystery, and have hitherto been
treated with but little success. Now it is the greatest proof of want
of skill, to investigate the nature of any object in itself alone; for
that same nature, which seems concealed and hidden in some instances,
is manifest and almost palpable in others, and excites wonder in the
former, while it hardly attracts attention in the latter. [51] Thus the
nature of consistency is scarcely observed in wood or stone, but passed
over by the term solid without any further inquiry about the repulsion
of separation or the solution of continuity. But in water-bubbles the
same circumstance appears matter of delicate and ingenious research,
for they form themselves into thin pellicles, curiously shaped into
hemispheres, so as for an instant to avoid the solution of continuity.

In general those very things which are considered as secret are
manifest and common in other objects, but will never be clearly seen
if the experiments and contemplation of man be directed to themselves
only. Yet it commonly happens, that if, in the mechanical arts, any
one bring old discoveries to a finer polish, or more elegant height of
ornament, or unite and compound them, or apply them more readily to
practice, or exhibit them on a less heavy and voluminous scale, and the
like, they will pass off as new.

We cannot, therefore, wonder that no magnificent discoveries, worthy
of mankind, have been brought to light, while men are satisfied and
delighted with such scanty and puerile tasks, nay, even think that they
have pursued or attained some great object in their accomplishment.

LXXXIX. Nor should we neglect to observe that natural philosophy has,
in every age, met with a troublesome and difficult opponent: I mean
superstition, and a blind and immoderate zeal for religion. For we see
that, among the Greeks, those who first disclosed the natural causes of
thunder and storms to the yet untrained ears of man were condemned as
guilty of impiety toward the gods. [52] Nor did some of the old fathers
of Christianity treat those much better who showed by the most positive
proofs (such as no one now disputes) that the earth is spherical, and
thence asserted that there were antipodes. [53]

Even in the present state of things the condition of discussions on
natural philosophy is rendered more difficult and dangerous by the
summaries and methods of divines, who, after reducing divinity into
such order as they could, and brought it into a scientific form, have
proceeded to mingle an undue proportion of the contentious and thorny
philosophy of Aristotle with the substance of religion. [54]

The fictions of those who have not feared to deduce and confirm the
truth of the Christian religion by the principles and authority of
philosophers, tend to the same end, though in a different manner. [55]
They celebrate the union of faith and the senses as though it were
legitimate, with great pomp and solemnity, and gratify men’s pleasing
minds with a variety, but in the meantime confound most improperly
things divine and human. Moreover, in these mixtures of divinity and
philosophy the received doctrines of the latter are alone included,
and any novelty, even though it be an improvement, scarcely escapes
banishment and extermination.

In short, you may find all access to any species of philosophy, however
pure, intercepted by the ignorance of divines. Some in their simplicity
are apprehensive that a too deep inquiry into nature may penetrate
beyond the proper bounds of decorum, transferring and absurdly applying
what is said of sacred mysteries in Holy Writ against those who
pry into divine secrets, to the mysteries of nature, which are not
forbidden by any prohibition. Others with more cunning imagine and
consider, that if secondary causes be unknown, everything may more
easily be referred to the Divine hand and wand, a matter, as they
think, of the greatest consequence to religion, but which can only
really mean that God wishes to be gratified by means of falsehood.
Others fear, from past example, lest motion and change in philosophy
should terminate in an attack upon religion. Lastly, there are others
who appear anxious lest there should be something discovered in the
investigation of nature to overthrow, or at least shake, religion,
particularly among the unlearned. The last two apprehensions appear
to resemble animal instinct, as if men were diffident, in the bottom
of their minds and secret meditations, of the strength of religion
and the empire of faith over the senses, and therefore feared that
some danger awaited them from an inquiry into nature. But any one who
properly considers the subject will find natural philosophy to be,
after the Word of God, the surest remedy against superstition, and the
most approved support of faith. She is, therefore, rightly bestowed
upon religion as a most faithful attendant, for the one exhibits the
will and the other the power of God. Nor was he wrong who observed,
“Ye err, not knowing the Scriptures and the power of God,” thus uniting
in one bond the revelation of his will and the contemplation of his
power. In the meanwhile, it is not wonderful that the progress of
natural philosophy has been restrained, since religion, which has so
much influence on men’s minds, has been led and hurried to oppose her
through the ignorance of some and the imprudent zeal of others.

XC. Again, in the habits and regulations of schools, universities,
and the like assemblies, destined for the abode of learned men and
the improvement of learning, everything is found to be opposed to
the progress of the sciences; for the lectures and exercises are so
ordered, that anything out of the common track can scarcely enter the
thoughts and contemplations of the mind. If, however, one or two have
perhaps dared to use their liberty, they can only impose the labor on
themselves, without deriving any advantage from the association of
others; and if they put up with this, they will find their industry and
spirit of no slight disadvantage to them in making their fortune; for
the pursuits of men in such situations are, as it were, chained down
to the writings of particular authors, and if any one dare to dissent
from them he is immediately attacked as a turbulent and revolutionary
spirit. Yet how great is the difference between civil matters and
the arts, for there is not the same danger from new activity and new
light. In civil matters even a change for the better is suspected
on account of the commotion it occasions, for civil government is
supported by authority, unanimity, fame, and public opinion, and not
by demonstration. In the arts and sciences, on the contrary, every
department should resound, as in mines, with new works and advances.
And this is the rational, though not the actual view of the case, for
that administration and government of science we have spoken of is
wont too rigorously to repress its growth.

XCI. And even should the odium I have alluded to be avoided, yet it is
sufficient to repress the increase of science that such attempts and
industry pass unrewarded; for the cultivation of science and its reward
belong not to the same individual. The advancement of science is the
work of a powerful genius, the prize and reward belong to the vulgar or
to princes, who (with a few exceptions) are scarcely moderately well
informed. Nay, such progress is not only deprived of the rewards and
beneficence of individuals, but even of popular praise; for it is above
the reach of the generality, and easily overwhelmed and extinguished
by the winds of common opinions. It is not wonderful, therefore, that
little success has attended that which has been little honored.

XCII. But by far the greatest obstacle to the advancement of the
sciences, and the undertaking of any new attempt or department, is to
be found in men’s despair and the idea of impossibility; for men of a
prudent and exact turn of thought are altogether diffident in matters
of this nature, considering the obscurity of nature, the shortness of
life, the deception of the senses, and weakness of the judgment. They
think, therefore, that in the revolutions of ages and of the world
there are certain floods and ebbs of the sciences, and that they grow
and flourish at one time, and wither and fall off at another, that when
they have attained a certain degree and condition they can proceed no
further.

If, therefore, any one believe or promise greater things, they impute
it to an uncurbed and immature mind, and imagine that such efforts
begin pleasantly, then become laborious, and end in confusion.
And since such thoughts easily enter the minds of men of dignity
and excellent judgment, we must really take heed lest we should be
captivated by our affection for an excellent and most beautiful
object, and relax or diminish the severity of our judgment; and we
must diligently examine what gleam of hope shines upon us, and in what
direction it manifests itself, so that, banishing her lighter dreams,
we may discuss and weigh whatever appears of more sound importance. We
must consult the prudence of ordinary life, too, which is diffident
upon principle, and in all human matters augurs the worst. Let us,
then, speak of hope, especially as we are not vain promisers, nor
are willing to enforce or insnare men’s judgment, but would rather
lead them willingly forward. And although we shall employ the most
cogent means of enforcing hope when we bring them to particulars,
and especially those which are digested and arranged in our Tables
of Invention (the subject partly of the second, but principally of
the fourth part of the Instauration), which are, indeed, rather
the very object of our hopes than hope itself; yet to proceed more
leniently we must treat of the preparation of men’s minds, of which
the manifestation of hope forms no slight part; for without it all
that we have said tends rather to produce a gloom than to encourage
activity or quicken the industry of experiment, by causing them to
have a worse and more contemptuous opinion of things as they are than
they now entertain, and to perceive and feel more thoroughly their
unfortunate condition. We must, therefore, disclose and prefix our
reasons for not thinking the hope of success improbable, as Columbus,
before his wonderful voyage over the Atlantic, gave the reasons of his
conviction that new lands and continents might be discovered besides
those already known; and these reasons, though at first rejected, were
yet proved by subsequent experience, and were the causes and beginnings
of the greatest events.

XCIII. Let us begin from God, and show that our pursuit from its
exceeding goodness clearly proceeds from him, the author of good and
father of light. Now, in all divine works the smallest beginnings lead
assuredly to some result, and the remark in spiritual matters that
“the kingdom of God cometh without observation,” is also found to be
true in every great work of Divine Providence, so that everything
glides quietly on without confusion or noise, and the matter is
achieved before men either think or perceive that it is commenced.
Nor should we neglect to mention the prophecy of Daniel, of the last
days of the world, “Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be
increased,”[56] thus plainly hinting and suggesting that fate (which
is Providence) would cause the complete circuit of the globe (now
accomplished, or at least going forward by means of so many distant
voyages), and the increase of learning to happen at the same epoch.

XCIV. We will next give a most potent reason for hope deduced from
the errors of the past, and the ways still unattempted; for well
was an ill-governed state thus reproved, “That which is worst with
regard to the past should appear most consolatory for the future;
for if you had done all that your duty commanded, and your affairs
proceeded no better, you could not even hope for their improvement;
but since their present unhappy situation is not owing to the force of
circumstances, but to your own errors, you have reason to hope that by
banishing or correcting the latter you can produce a great change for
the better in the former. ” So if men had, during the many years that
have elapsed, adhered to the right way of discovering and cultivating
the sciences without being able to advance, it would be assuredly bold
and presumptuous to imagine it possible to improve; but if they have
mistaken the way and wasted their labor on improper objects, it follows
that the difficulty does not arise from things themselves, which are
not in our power, but from the human understanding, its practice and
application, which is susceptible of remedy and correction. Our best
plan, therefore, is to expose these errors; for in proportion as they
impeded the past, so do they afford reason to hope for the future. And
although we have touched upon them above, yet we think it right to give
a brief, bare, and simple enumeration of them in this place.

XCV. Those who have treated of the sciences have been either empirics
or dogmatical. [57] The former like ants only heap up and use their
store, the latter like spiders spin out their own webs. The bee, a
mean between both, extracts matter from the flowers of the garden and
the field, but works and fashions it by its own efforts. The true
labor of philosophy resembles hers, for it neither relies entirely or
principally on the powers of the mind, nor yet lays up in the memory
the matter afforded by the experiments of natural history and mechanics
in its raw state, but changes and works it in the understanding. We
have good reason, therefore, to derive hope from a closer and purer
alliance of these faculties (the experimental and rational) than has
yet been attempted.

XCVI. Natural philosophy is not yet to be found unadulterated, but is
impure and corrupted--by logic in the school of Aristotle, by natural
theology in that of Plato,[58] by mathematics in the second school of
Plato (that of Proclus and others)[59] which ought rather to terminate
natural philosophy than to generate or create it. We may, therefore,
hope for better results from pure and unmixed natural philosophy.

XCVII. No one has yet been found possessed of sufficient firmness
and severity to resolve upon and undertake the task of entirely
abolishing common theories and notions, and applying the mind afresh,
when thus cleared and levelled, to particular researches; hence our
human reasoning is a mere farrago and crude mass made up of a great
deal of credulity and accident, and the puerile notions it originally
contracted.

But if a man of mature age, unprejudiced senses, and clear mind, would
betake himself anew to experience and particulars, we might hope much
more from such a one; in which respect we promise ourselves the fortune
of Alexander the Great, and let none accuse us of vanity till they have
heard the tale, which is intended to check vanity.

For Æschines spoke thus of Alexander and his exploits: “We live not
the life of mortals, but are born at such a period that posterity will
relate and declare our prodigies”; as if he considered the exploits of
Alexander to be miraculous.

But in succeeding ages[60] Livy took a better view of the fact, and
has made some such observation as this upon Alexander: “That he did no
more than dare to despise insignificance. ” So in our opinion posterity
will judge of us, that we have achieved no great matters, but only set
less account upon what is considered important; for the meantime (as
we have before observed) our only hope is in the regeneration of the
sciences, by regularly raising them on the foundation of experience and
building them anew, which I think none can venture to affirm to have
been already done or even thought of.

XCVIII. The foundations of experience (our sole resource) have
hitherto failed completely or have been very weak; nor has a store
and collection of particular facts, capable of informing the mind or
in any way satisfactory, been either sought after or amassed. On the
contrary, learned, but idle and indolent, men have received some mere
reports of experience, traditions as it were of dreams, as establishing
or confirming their philosophy, and have not hesitated to allow them
the weight of legitimate evidence. So that a system has been pursued
in philosophy with regard to experience resembling that of a kingdom
or state which would direct its councils and affairs according to the
gossip of city and street politicians, instead of the letters and
reports of ambassadors and messengers worthy of credit. Nothing is
rightly inquired into, or verified, noted, weighed, or measured, in
natural history; indefinite and vague observation produces fallacious
and uncertain information. If this appear strange, or our complaint
somewhat too unjust (because Aristotle himself, so distinguished a
man and supported by the wealth of so great a king, has completed an
accurate history of animals, to which others with greater diligence
but less noise have made considerable additions, and others again
have composed copious histories and notices of plants, metals, and
fossils), it will arise from a want of sufficiently attending to and
comprehending our present observations; for a natural history compiled
on its own account, and one collected for the mind’s information as a
foundation for philosophy, are two different things. They differ in
several respects, but principally in this--the former contains only
the varieties of natural species without the experiments of mechanical
arts; for as in ordinary life every person’s disposition, and the
concealed feelings of the mind and passions are most drawn out when
they are disturbed--so the secrets of nature betray themselves more
readily when tormented by art than when left to their own course. We
must begin, therefore, to entertain hopes of natural philosophy then
only, when we have a better compilation of natural history, its real
basis and support.

XCIX. Again, even in the abundance of mechanical experiments, there
is a very great scarcity of those which best inform and assist
the understanding. For the mechanic, little solicitous about the
investigation of truth, neither directs his attention, nor applies his
hand to anything that is not of service to his business. But our hope
of further progress in the sciences will then only be well founded,
when numerous experiments shall be received and collected into natural
history, which, though of no use in themselves, assist materially in
the discovery of causes and axioms; which experiments we have termed
enlightening, to distinguish them from those which are profitable. They
possess this wonderful property and nature, that they never deceive
or fail you; for being used only to discover the natural cause of
some object, whatever be the result, they equally satisfy your aim by
deciding the question.

C. We must not only search for, and procure a greater number of
experiments, but also introduce a completely different method, order,
and progress of continuing and promoting experience. For vague and
arbitrary experience is (as we have observed), mere groping in the
dark, and rather astonishes than instructs. But when experience shall
proceed regularly and uninterruptedly by a determined rule, we may
entertain better hopes of the sciences.

CI. But after having collected and prepared an abundance and store of
natural history, and of the experience required for the operations
of the understanding or philosophy, still the understanding is as
incapable of acting on such materials of itself, with the aid of memory
alone, as any person would be of retaining and achieving, by memory,
the computation of an almanac. Yet meditation has hitherto done more
for discovery than writing, and no experiments have been committed to
paper. We cannot, however, approve of any mode of discovery without
writing, and when that comes into more general use, we may have further
hopes.

CII. Besides this, there is such a multitude and host, as it were, of
particular objects, and lying so widely dispersed, as to distract and
confuse the understanding; and we can, therefore, hope for no advantage
from its skirmishing, and quick movements and incursions, unless we
put its forces in due order and array, by means of proper and well
arranged, and, as it were, living tables of discovery of these matters,
which are the subject of investigation, and the mind then apply itself
to the ready prepared and digested aid which such tables afford.

CIII. When we have thus properly and regularly placed before the eyes
a collection of particulars, we must not immediately proceed to the
investigation and discovery of new particulars or effects, or, at
least, if we do so, must not rest satisfied therewith. For, though
we do not deny that by transferring the experiments from one art to
another (when all the experiments of each have been collected and
arranged, and have been acquired by the knowledge, and subjected to
the judgment of a single individual), many new experiments may be
discovered tending to benefit society and mankind, by what we term
literate experience; yet comparatively insignificant results are to be
expected thence, while the more important are to be derived from the
new light of axioms, deduced by certain method and rule from the above
particulars, and pointing out and defining new particulars in their
turn. Our road is not a long plain, but rises and falls, ascending to
axioms, and descending to effects.

CIV. Nor can we suffer the understanding to jump and fly from
particulars to remote and most general axioms (such as are termed the
principles of arts and things), and thus prove and make out their
intermediate axioms according to the supposed unshaken truth of the
former. This, however, has always been done to the present time from
the natural bent of the understanding, educated too, and accustomed to
this very method, by the syllogistic mode of demonstration. But we can
then only augur well for the sciences, when the assent shall proceed by
a true scale and successive steps, without interruption or breach, from
particulars to the lesser axioms, thence to the intermediate (rising
one above the other), and lastly, to the most general. For the lowest
axioms differ but little from bare experiment;[61] the highest and most
general (as they are esteemed at present), are notional, abstract, and
of no real weight. The intermediate are true, solid, full of life, and
upon them depend the business and fortune of mankind; beyond these are
the really general, but not abstract, axioms, which are truly limited
by the intermediate.

We must not then add wings, but rather lead and ballast to the
understanding, to prevent its jumping or flying, which has not yet been
done; but whenever this takes place, we may entertain greater hopes of
the sciences.

CV. In forming axioms, we must invent a different form of induction
from that hitherto in use; not only for the proof and discovery of
principles (as they are called), but also of minor, intermediate, and,
in short, every kind of axioms. The induction which proceeds by simple
enumeration is puerile, leads to uncertain conclusions, and is exposed
to danger from one contradictory instance, deciding generally from too
small a number of facts, and those only the most obvious. But a really
useful induction for the discovery and demonstration of the arts and
sciences, should separate nature by proper rejections and exclusions,
and then conclude for the affirmative, after collecting a sufficient
number of negatives. Now this has not been done, nor even attempted,
except perhaps by Plato, who certainly uses this form of induction in
some measure, to sift definitions and ideas. But much of what has never
yet entered the thoughts of man must necessarily be employed, in order
to exhibit a good and legitimate mode of induction or demonstration,
so as even to render it essential for us to bestow more pains upon
it than have hitherto been bestowed on syllogisms. The assistance of
induction is to serve us not only in the discovery of axioms, but
also in defining our notions. Much indeed is to be hoped from such an
induction as has been described.

CVI. In forming our axioms from induction, we must examine and try
whether the axiom we derive be only fitted and calculated for the
particular instances from which it is deduced, or whether it be more
extensive and general. If it be the latter, we must observe, whether
it confirm its own extent and generality by giving surety, as it were,
in pointing out new particulars, so that we may neither stop at actual
discoveries, nor with a careless grasp catch at shadows and abstract
forms, instead of substances of a determinate nature: and as soon as we
act thus, well authorized hope may with reason be said to beam upon us.

CVII. Here, too, we may again repeat what we have said above,
concerning the extending of natural philosophy and reducing particular
sciences to that one, so as to prevent any schism or dismembering of
the sciences; without which we cannot hope to advance.

CVIII. Such are the observations we would make in order to remove
despair and excite hope, by bidding farewell to the errors of past
ages, or by their correction. Let us examine whether there be other
grounds for hope. And, first, if many useful discoveries have occurred
to mankind by chance or opportunity, without investigation or attention
on their part, it must necessarily be acknowledged that much more may
be brought to light by investigation and attention, if it be regular
and orderly, not hasty and interrupted. For although it may now and
then happen that one falls by chance upon something that had before
escaped considerable efforts and laborious inquiries, yet undoubtedly
the reverse is generally the case. We may, therefore, hope for further,
better, and more frequent results from man’s reason, industry, method,
and application, than from chance and mere animal instinct, and the
like, which have hitherto been the sources of invention.

CIX. We may also derive some reason for hope from the circumstance
of several actual inventions being of such a nature, that scarcely
any one could have formed a conjecture about them previously to their
discovery, but would rather have ridiculed them as impossible. For
men are wont to guess about new subjects from those they are already
acquainted with, and the hasty and vitiated fancies they have thence
formed: than which there cannot be a more fallacious mode of reasoning,
because much of that which is derived from the sources of things does
not flow in their usual channel.

If, for instance, before the discovery of cannon, one had described
its effects in the following manner: There is a new invention by which
walls and the greatest bulwarks can be shaken and overthrown from a
considerable distance; men would have begun to contrive various means
of multiplying the force of projectiles and machines by means of
weights and wheels, and other modes of battering and projecting. But
it is improbable that any imagination or fancy would have hit upon a
fiery blast, expanding and developing itself so suddenly and violently,
because none would have seen an instance at all resembling it, except
perhaps in earthquakes or thunder, which they would have immediately
rejected as the great operations of nature, not to be imitated by man.

So, if before the discovery of silk thread, any one had observed, that
a species of thread had been discovered, fit for dresses and furniture,
far surpassing the thread of worsted or flax in fineness, and at the
same time in tenacity, beauty, and softness; men would have begun
to imagine something about Chinese plants, or the fine hair of some
animals, or the feathers or down of birds, but certainly would never
have had an idea of its being spun by a small worm, in so copious a
manner, and renewed annually.
But if any one had ventured to suggest
the silkworm, he would have been laughed at as if dreaming of some new
manufacture from spiders.

So again, if before the discovery of the compass, any one had said,
that an instrument had been invented, by which the quarters and points
of the heavens could be exactly taken and distinguished, men would
have entered into disquisitions on the refinement of astronomical
instruments, and the like, from the excitement of their imaginations;
but the thought of anything being discovered, which, not being a
celestial body, but a mere mineral or metallic substance, should yet
in its motion agree with that of such bodies, would have appeared
absolutely incredible. Yet were these facts, and the like (unknown for
so many ages) not discovered at last either by philosophy or reasoning,
but by chance and opportunity; and (as we have observed), they are of a
nature most heterogeneous, and remote from what was hitherto known, so
that no previous knowledge could lead to them.

We may, therefore, well hope[62] that many excellent and useful matters
are yet treasured up in the bosom of nature, bearing no relation or
analogy to our actual discoveries, but out of the common track of
our imagination, and still undiscovered, and which will doubtless be
brought to light in the course and lapse of years, as the others have
been before them; but in the way we now point out, they may rapidly and
at once be both represented and anticipated.

CX. There are, moreover, some inventions which render it probable
that men may pass and hurry over the most noble discoveries which
lie immediately before them. For however the discovery of gunpowder,
silk, the compass, sugar, paper, or the like, may appear to depend on
peculiar properties of things and nature, printing at least involves
no contrivance which is not clear and almost obvious. But from want
of observing that although the arrangement of the types of letters
required more trouble than writing with the hand, yet these types once
arranged serve for innumerable impressions, while manuscript only
affords one copy; and again, from want of observing that ink might be
thickened so as to stain without running (which was necessary, seeing
the letters face upward, and the impression is made from above), this
most beautiful invention (which assists so materially the propagation
of learning) remained unknown for so many ages.

The human mind is often so awkward and ill-regulated in the career of
invention that it is at first diffident, and then despises itself. For
it appears at first incredible that any such discovery should be made,
and when it has been made, it appears incredible that it should so long
have escaped men’s research. All which affords good reason for the
hope that a vast mass of inventions yet remains, which may be deduced
not only from the investigation of new modes of operation, but also
from transferring, comparing, and applying these already known, by the
method of what we have termed literate experience.

CXI. Nor should we omit another ground of hope. Let men only consider
(if they will) their infinite expenditure of talent, time, and
fortune, in matters and studies of far inferior importance and value;
a small portion of which applied to sound and solid learning would be
sufficient to overcome every difficulty. And we have thought right to
add this observation, because we candidly own that such a collection of
natural and experimental history as we have traced in our own mind, and
as is really necessary, is a great and as it were royal work, requiring
much labor and expense.

CXII. In the meantime let no one be alarmed at the multitude of
particulars, but rather inclined to hope on that very account. For the
particular phenomena of the arts and nature are in reality but as a
handful, when compared with the fictions of the imagination removed and
separated from the evidence of facts. The termination of our method
is clear, and I had almost said near at hand; the other admits of no
termination, but only of infinite confusion. For men have hitherto
dwelt but little, or rather only slightly touched upon experience,
while they have wasted much time on theories and the fictions of the
imagination. If we had but any one who could actually answer our
interrogations of nature, the invention of all causes and sciences
would be the labor of but a few years.

CXIII. We think some ground of hope is afforded by our own example,
which is not mentioned for the sake of boasting, but as a useful
remark. Let those who distrust their own powers observe myself, one who
have among my contemporaries been the most engaged in public business,
who am not very strong in health (which causes a great loss of time),
and am the first explorer of this course, following the guidance of
none, nor even communicating my thoughts to a single individual; yet
having once firmly entered in the right way, and submitting the powers
of my mind to things, I have somewhat advanced (as I make bold to
think) the matter I now treat of. Then let others consider what may
be hoped from men who enjoy abundant leisure, from united labors, and
the succession of ages, after these suggestions on our part, especially
in a course which is not confined, like theories, to individuals,
but admits of the best distribution and union of labor and effect,
particularly in collecting experiments. For men will then only begin to
know their own power, when each performs a separate part, instead of
undertaking in crowds the same work.

CXIV. Lastly, though a much more faint and uncertain breeze of hope
were to spring up from our new continent, yet we consider it necessary
to make the experiment, if we would not show a dastard spirit. For
the risk attending want of success is not to be compared with that
of neglecting the attempt; the former is attended with the loss of
a little human labor, the latter with that of an immense benefit.
For these and other reasons it appears to us that there is abundant
ground to hope, and to induce not only those who are sanguine to make
experiment, but even those who are cautious and sober to give their
assent.

CXV. Such are the grounds for banishing despair, hitherto one of the
most powerful causes of the delay and restraint to which the sciences
have been subjected; in treating of which we have at the same time
discussed the signs and causes of the errors, idleness, and ignorance
that have prevailed; seeing especially that the more refined causes,
which are not open to popular judgment and observation, may be referred
to our remarks on the idols of the human mind.

Here, too, we should close the demolishing branch of our Instauration,
which is comprised in three confutations: 1, the confutation of natural
human reason left to itself; 2, the confutation of demonstration; 3,
the confutation of theories, or received systems of philosophy and
doctrines. Our confutation has followed such a course as was open to
it, namely, the exposing of the signs of error, and the producing
evidence of the causes of it: for we could adopt no other, differing as
we do both in first principles and demonstrations from others.

It is time for us therefore to come to the art itself, and the rule for
the interpretation of nature: there is, however, still something which
must not be passed over. For the intent of this first book of aphorisms
being to prepare the mind for understanding, as well as admitting, what
follows, we must now, after having cleansed, polished, and levelled
its surface, place it in a good position, and as it were a benevolent
aspect toward our propositions; seeing that prejudice in new matters
may be produced not only by the strength of preconceived notions, but
also by a false anticipation or expectation of the matter proposed. We
shall therefore endeavor to induce good and correct opinions of what we
offer, although this be only necessary for the moment, and as it were
laid out at interest, until the matter itself be well understood.

CXVI. First, then, we must desire men not to suppose that we are
ambitious of founding any philosophical sect, like the ancient Greeks,
or some moderns, as Telesius, Patricius, and Severinus. [63] For neither
is this our intention, nor do we think that peculiar abstract opinions
on nature and the principles of things are of much importance to men’s
fortunes, since it were easy to revive many ancient theories, and
to introduce many new ones; as, for instance, many hypotheses with
regard to the heavens can be formed, differing in themselves, and yet
sufficiently according with the phenomena.

We bestow not our labor on such theoretical and, at the same time,
useless topics. On the contrary, our determination is that of trying,
whether we can lay a firmer foundation, and extend to a greater
distance the boundaries of human power and dignity. And although here
and there, upon some particular points, we hold (in our own opinion)
more true and certain, and I might even say, more advantageous tenets
than those in general repute (which we have collected in the fifth part
of our Instauration), yet we offer no universal or complete theory.
The time does not yet appear to us to be arrived, and we entertain no
hope of our life being prolonged to the completion of the sixth part of
the Instauration (which is destined for philosophy discovered by the
interpretation of nature), but are content if we proceed quietly and
usefully in our intermediate pursuit, scattering, in the meantime, the
seeds of less adulterated truth for posterity, and, at least, commence
the great work.

CXVII. And, as we pretend not to found a sect, so do we neither offer
nor promise particular effects; which may occasion some to object to
us, that since we so often speak of effects, and consider everything
in its relation to that end, we ought also to give some earnest of
producing them. Our course and method, however (as we have often said,
and again repeat), is such as not to deduce effects from effects, nor
experiments from experiments (as the empirics do), but in our capacity
of legitimate interpreters of nature, to deduce causes and axioms from
effects and experiments; and new effects and experiments from those
causes and axioms.

And although any one of moderate intelligence and ability will observe
the indications and sketches of many noble effects in our tables of
inventions (which form the fourth part of the Instauration), and also
in the examples of particular instances cited in the second part, as
well as in our observations on history (which is the subject of the
third part); yet we candidly confess that our present natural history,
whether compiled from books or our own inquiries, is not sufficiently
copious and well ascertained to satisfy, or even assist, a proper
interpretation.

If, therefore, there be any one who is more disposed and prepared for
mechanical art, and ingenious in discovering effects, than in the mere
management of experiment, we allow him to employ his industry in
gathering many of the fruits of our history and tables in this way,
and applying them to effects, receiving them as interest till he can
obtain the principal. For our own part, having a greater object in
view, we condemn all hasty and premature rest in such pursuits as we
would Atalanta’s apple (to use a common allusion of ours); for we are
not childishly ambitious of golden fruit, but use all our efforts to
make the course of art outstrip nature, and we hasten not to reap moss
or the green blade, but wait for a ripe harvest.

CXVIII. There will be some, without doubt, who, on a perusal of our
history and tables of invention, will meet with some uncertainty,
or perhaps fallacy, in the experiments themselves, and will thence
perhaps imagine that our discoveries are built on false foundations and
principles. There is, however, really nothing in this, since it must
needs happen in beginnings. [64] For it is the same as if in writing
or printing one or two letters were wrongly turned or misplaced,
which is no great inconvenience to the reader, who can easily by his
own eye correct the error; let men in the same way conclude, that
many experiments in natural history may be erroneously believed and
admitted, which are easily expunged and rejected afterward, by the
discovery of causes and axioms. It is, however, true, that if these
errors in natural history and experiments become great, frequent, and
continued, they cannot be corrected and amended by any dexterity of
wit or art. If then, even in our natural history, well examined and
compiled with such diligence, strictness, and (I might say) reverential
scruples, there be now and then something false and erroneous in
the details, what must we say of the common natural history, which
is so negligent and careless when compared with ours? or of systems
of philosophy and the sciences, based on such loose soil (or rather
quicksand)? Let none then be alarmed by such observations.

CXIX. Again, our history and experiments will contain much that
is light and common, mean and illiberal, too refined and merely
speculative, and, as it were, of no use, and this perhaps may divert
and alienate the attention of mankind.

With regard to what is common; let men reflect, that they have hitherto
been used to do nothing but refer and adapt the causes of things of
rare occurrence to those of things which more frequently happen,
without any investigation of the causes of the latter, taking them for
granted and admitted.

Hence, they do not inquire into the causes of gravity, the rotation of
the heavenly bodies, heat, cold, light, hardness, softness, rarity,
density, liquidity, solidity, animation, inanimation, similitude,
difference, organic formation, but taking them to be self-evident,
manifest, and admitted, they dispute and decide upon other matters of
less frequent and familiar occurrence.

But we (who know that no judgment can be formed of that which is rare
or remarkable, and much less anything new brought to light, without
a previous regular examination and discovery of the causes of that
which is common, and the causes again of those causes) are necessarily
compelled to admit the most common objects into our history. Besides,
we have observed that nothing has been so injurious to philosophy as
this circumstance, namely, that familiar and frequent objects do not
arrest and detain men’s contemplation, but are carelessly admitted,
and their causes never inquired after; so that information on unknown
subjects is not more often wanted than attention to those which are
known.

CXX. With regard to the meanness, or even the filthiness of
particulars, for which (as Pliny observes), an apology is requisite,
such subjects are no less worthy of admission into natural history
than the most magnificent and costly; nor do they at all pollute
natural history, for the sun enters alike the palace and the privy,
and is not thereby polluted. We neither dedicate nor raise a capitol
or pyramid to the pride of man, but rear a holy temple in his mind,
on the model of the universe, which model therefore we imitate. For
that which is deserving of existence is deserving of knowledge, the
image of existence. Now the mean and splendid alike exist. Nay, as
the finest odors are sometimes produced from putrid matter (such as
musk and civet), so does valuable light and information emanate from
mean and sordid instances. But we have already said too much, for such
fastidious feelings are childish and effeminate.

CXXI. The next point requires a more accurate consideration, namely,
that many parts of our history will appear to the vulgar, or even any
mind accustomed to the present state of things, fantastically and
uselessly refined. Hence, we have in regard to this matter said from
the first, and must again repeat, that we look for experiments that
shall afford light rather than profit, imitating the divine creation,
which, as we have often observed, only produced light on the first
day, and assigned that whole day to its creation, without adding any
material work.

If any one, then, imagine such matters to be of no use, he might
equally suppose light to be of no use, because it is neither solid
nor material. For, in fact, the knowledge of simple natures, when
sufficiently investigated and defined, resembles light, which, though
of no great use in itself, affords access to the general mysteries
of effects, and with a peculiar power comprehends and draws with
it whole bands and troops of effects, and the sources of the most
valuable axioms. So also the elements of letters have of themselves
separately no meaning, and are of no use, yet are they, as it were,
the original matter in the composition and preparation of speech. The
seeds of substances, whose effect is powerful, are of no use except in
their growth, and the scattered rays of light itself avail not unless
collected.

But if speculative subtilties give offence, what must we say of the
scholastic philosophers who indulged in them to such excess? And those
subtilties were wasted on words, or, at least, common notions (which
is the same thing), not on things or nature, and alike unproductive of
benefit in their origin and their consequences: in no way resembling
ours, which are at present useless, but in their consequences of
infinite benefit. Let men be assured that all subtile disputes and
discursive efforts of the mind are late and preposterous, when they
are introduced subsequently to the discovery of axioms, and that their
true, or, at any rate, chief opportunity is, when experiment is to be
weighed and axioms to be derived from it. They otherwise catch and
grasp at nature, but never seize or detain her: and we may well apply
to nature that which has been said of opportunity or fortune, that she
wears a lock in front, but is bald behind.

In short, we may reply decisively to those who despise any part of
natural history as being vulgar, mean, or subtile, and useless in its
origin, in the words of a poor woman to a haughty prince,[65] who had
rejected her petition as unworthy, and beneath the dignity of his
majesty: “Then cease to reign”; for it is quite certain that the empire
of nature can neither be obtained nor administered by one who refuses
to pay attention to such matters as being poor and too minute.

CXXII. Again, it may be objected to us as being singular and harsh,
that we should with one stroke and assault, as it were, banish all
authorities and sciences, and that too by our own efforts, without
requiring the assistance and support of any of the ancients.

Now we are aware, that had we been ready to act otherwise than
sincerely, it was not difficult to refer our present method to
remote ages, prior to those of the Greeks (since the sciences in all
probability flourished more in their natural state, though silently,
than when they were paraded with the fifes and trumpets of the Greeks);
or even (in parts, at least) to some of the Greeks themselves, and to
derive authority and honor from thence; as men of no family labor to
raise and form nobility for themselves in some ancient line, by the
help of genealogies. Trusting, however, to the evidence of facts, we
reject every kind of fiction and imposture; and think it of no more
consequence to our subject, whether future discoveries were known to
the ancients, and set or rose according to the vicissitudes of events
and lapse of ages, than it would be of importance to mankind to know
whether the new world be the island of Atlantis,[66] and known to the
ancients, or be now discovered for the first time.

With regard to the universal censure we have bestowed, it is quite
clear, to any one who properly considers the matter, that it is both
more probable and more modest than any partial one could have been. For
if the errors had not been rooted in the primary notions, some well
conducted discoveries must have corrected others that were deficient.
But since the errors were fundamental, and of such a nature, that
men may be said rather to have neglected or passed over things, than
to have formed a wrong or false judgment of them, it is little to be
wondered at, that they did not obtain what they never aimed at, nor
arrive at a goal which they had not determined, nor perform a course
which they had neither entered upon nor adhered to.

With regard to our presumption, we allow that if we were to assume a
power of drawing a more perfect straight line or circle than any one
else, by superior steadiness of hand or acuteness of eye, it would lead
to a comparison of talent; but if one merely assert that he can draw
a more perfect line or circle with a ruler or compasses, than another
can by his unassisted hand or eye, he surely cannot be said to boast
of much. Now this applies not only to our first original attempt, but
also to those who shall hereafter apply themselves to the pursuit. For
our method of discovering the sciences merely levels men’s wits, and
leaves but little to their superiority, since it achieves everything by
the most certain rules and demonstrations. Whence (as we have often
observed), our attempt is to be attributed to fortune rather than
talent, and is the offspring of time rather than of wit. For a certain
sort of chance has no less effect upon our thoughts than on our acts
and deeds.

CXXIII. We may, therefore, apply to ourselves the joke of him who said,
that water and wine drinkers could not think alike,[67] especially as
it hits the matter so well. For others, both ancients and moderns,
have in the sciences drank a crude liquor like water, either flowing
of itself from the understanding, or drawn up by logic as the wheel
draws up the bucket. But we drink and pledge others with a liquor made
of many well-ripened grapes, collected and plucked from particular
branches, squeezed in the press, and at last clarified and fermented in
a vessel. It is not, therefore, wonderful that we should not agree with
others.

CXXIV. Another objection will without doubt be made, namely, that we
have not ourselves established a correct, or the best goal or aim
of the sciences (the very defect we blame in others). For they will
say that the contemplation of truth is more dignified and exalted
than any utility or extent of effects; but that our dwelling so long
and anxiously on experience and matter, and the fluctuating state of
particulars, fastens the mind to earth, or rather casts it down into an
abyss of confusion and disturbance, and separates and removes it from a
much more divine state, the quiet and tranquillity of abstract wisdom.
We willingly assent to their reasoning, and are most anxious to effect
the very point they hint at and require. For we are founding a real
model of the world in the understanding, such as it is found to be, not
such as man’s reason has distorted. Now this cannot be done without
dissecting and anatomizing the world most diligently; but we declare it
necessary to destroy completely the vain, little and, as it were, apish
imitations of the world, which have been formed in various systems of
philosophy by men’s fancies. Let men learn (as we have said above) the
difference that exists between the idols of the human mind and the
ideas of the divine mind. The former are mere arbitrary abstractions;
the latter the true marks of the Creator on his creatures, as they are
imprinted on, and defined in matter, by true and exquisite touches.
Truth, therefore, and utility, are here perfectly identical, and the
effects are of more value as pledges of truth than from the benefit
they confer on men.

CXXV. Others may object that we are only doing that which has already
been done, and that the ancients followed the same course as ourselves.
They may imagine, therefore, that, after all this stir and exertion,
we shall at last arrive at some of those systems that prevailed among
the ancients: for that they, too, when commencing their meditations,
laid up a great store of instances and particulars, and digested them
under topics and titles in their commonplace books, and so worked out
their systems and arts, and then decided upon what they discovered,
and related now and then some examples to confirm and throw light upon
their doctrine; but thought it superfluous and troublesome to publish
their notes, minutes, and commonplaces, and therefore followed the
example of builders who remove the scaffolding and ladders when the
building is finished. Nor can we indeed believe the case to have been
otherwise. But to any one, not entirely forgetful of our previous
observations, it will be easy to answer this objection or rather
scruple; for we allow that the ancients had a particular form of
investigation and discovery, and their writings show it. But it was
of such a nature, that they immediately flew from a few instances and
particulars (after adding some common notions, and a few generally
received opinions most in vogue) to the most general conclusions or the
principles of the sciences, and then by their intermediate propositions
deduced their inferior conclusions, and tried them by the test of the
immovable and settled truth of the first, and so constructed their art.
Lastly, if some new particulars and instances were brought forward,
which contradicted their dogmas, they either with great subtilty
reduced them to one system, by distinctions or explanations of their
own rules, or got rid of them clumsily as exceptions, laboring most
pertinaciously in the meantime to accommodate the causes of such as
were not contradictory to their own principles. Their natural history
and their experience were both far from being what they ought to have
been, and their flying off to generalities ruined everything.

CXXVI. Another objection will be made against us, that we prohibit
decisions and the laying down of certain principles, till we arrive
regularly at generalities by the intermediate steps, and thus keep the
judgment in suspense and lead to uncertainty. But our object is not
uncertainty but fitting certainty, for we derogate not from the senses
but assist them, and despise not the understanding but direct it. It is
better to know what is necessary, and not to imagine we are fully in
possession of it, than to imagine that we are fully in possession of
it, and yet in reality to know nothing which we ought.

CXXVII. Again, some may raise this question rather than objection,
whether we talk of perfecting natural philosophy alone according
to our method, or the other sciences also, such as logic, ethics,
politics. We certainly intend to comprehend them all. And as common
logic, which regulates matters by syllogisms, is applied not only to
natural, but also to every other science, so our inductive method
likewise comprehends them all. [68] For we form a history and tables of
invention for anger, fear, shame, and the like, and also for examples
in civil life, and the mental operations of memory, composition,
division, judgment, and the rest, as well as for heat and cold, light,
vegetation, and the like. But since our method of interpretation,
after preparing and arranging a history, does not content itself with
examining the operations and disquisitions of the mind like common
logic, but also inspects the nature of things, we so regulate the mind
that it may be enabled to apply itself in every respect correctly to
that nature. On that account we deliver numerous and various precepts
in our doctrine of interpretation, so that they may apply in some
measure to the method of discovering the quality and condition of the
subject matter of investigation.

CXXVIII. Let none even doubt whether we are anxious to destroy and
demolish the philosophy, arts, and sciences, which are now in use.
On the contrary, we readily cherish their practice, cultivation,
and honor; for we by no means interfere to prevent the prevalent
system from encouraging discussion, adorning discourses, or being
employed serviceably in the chair of the professor or the practice
of common life, and being taken, in short, by general consent as
current coin. Nay, we plainly declare, that the system we offer will
not be very suitable for such purposes, not being easily adapted
to vulgar apprehensions, except by effects and works. To show our
sincerity in professing our regard and friendly disposition toward
the received sciences, we can refer to the evidence of our published
writings (especially our books on the Advancement of Learning). We
will not, therefore, endeavor to evince it any further by words; but
content ourselves with steadily and professedly premising, that no
great progress can be made by the present methods in the theory or
contemplation of science, and that they cannot be made to produce any
very abundant effects.

CXXIX. It remains for us to say a few words on the excellence of our
proposed end. If we had done so before, we might have appeared merely
to express our wishes, but now that we have excited hope and removed
prejudices, it will perhaps have greater weight. Had we performed and
completely accomplished the whole, without frequently calling in others
to assist in our labors, we should then have refrained from saying
any more, lest we should be thought to extol our own deserts. Since,
however, the industry of others must be quickened, and their courage
roused and inflamed, it is right to recall some points to their memory.

First, then, the introduction of great inventions appears one of the
most distinguished of human actions, and the ancients so considered it;
for they assigned divine honors to the authors of inventions, but only
heroic honors to those who displayed civil merit (such as the founders
of cities and empire legislators, the deliverers of their country from
lasting misfortunes, the quellers of tyrants, and the like). And if any
one rightly compare them, he will find the judgment of antiquity to be
correct; for the benefits derived from inventions may extend to mankind
in general, but civil benefits to particular spots alone; the latter,
moreover, last but for a time, the former forever. Civil reformation
seldom is carried on without violence and confusion, while inventions
are a blessing and a benefit without injuring or afflicting any.

Inventions are also, as it were, new creations and imitations of divine
works, as was expressed by the poet:[69]

“Primum frugiferos fœtus mortalibus ægris
Dididerant quondam præstanti nomine Athenæ
Et _recreaverunt_ vitam legesque rogarunt. ”

And it is worthy of remark in Solomon, that while he flourished in the
possession of his empire, in wealth, in the magnificence of his works,
in his court, his household, his fleet, the splendor of his name, and
the most unbounded admiration of mankind, he still placed his glory in
none of these, but declared[70] that it is the glory of God to conceal
a thing, but the glory of a king to search it out.

Again, let any one but consider the immense difference between men’s
lives in the most polished countries of Europe, and in any wild and
barbarous region of the new Indies, he will think it so great, that man
may be said to be a god unto man, not only on account of mutual aid and
benefits, but from their comparative states--the result of the arts,
and not of the soil or climate.

Again, we should notice the force, effect, and consequences of
inventions, which are nowhere more conspicuous than in those three
which were unknown to the ancients; namely, printing, gunpowder, and
the compass. For these three have changed the appearance and state of
the whole world: first in literature, then in warfare, and lastly in
navigation; and innumerable changes have been thence derived, so that
no empire, sect, or star, appears to have exercised a greater power and
influence on human affairs than these mechanical discoveries.

It will, perhaps, be as well to distinguish three species and degrees
of ambition. First, that of men who are anxious to enlarge their own
power in their country, which is a vulgar and degenerate kind; next,
that of men who strive to enlarge the power and empire of their country
over mankind, which is more dignified but not less covetous; but if one
were to endeavor to renew and enlarge the power and empire of mankind
in general over the universe, such ambition (if it may be so termed)
is both more sound and more noble than the other two. Now the empire of
man over things is founded on the arts and sciences alone, for nature
is only to be commanded by obeying her.

Besides this, if the benefit of any particular invention has had such
an effect as to induce men to consider him greater than a man, who has
thus obliged the whole race, how much more exalted will that discovery
be, which leads to the easy discovery of everything else! Yet (to
speak the truth) in the same manner as we are very thankful for light
which enables us to enter on our way, to practice arts, to read, to
distinguish each other, and yet sight is more excellent and beautiful
than the various uses of light; so is the contemplation of things as
they are, free from superstition or imposture, error or confusion, much
more dignified in itself than all the advantage to be derived from
discoveries.

Lastly, let none be alarmed at the objection of the arts and sciences
becoming depraved to malevolent or luxurious purposes and the like, for
the same can be said of every worldly good; talent, courage, strength,
beauty, riches, light itself, and the rest. Only let mankind regain
their rights over nature, assigned to them by the gift of God, and
obtain that power, whose exercise will be governed by right reason and
true religion.

CXXX. But it is time for us to lay down the art of interpreting nature,
to which we attribute no absolute necessity (as if nothing could be
done without it) nor perfection, although we think that our precepts
are most useful and correct. For we are of opinion, that if men had
at their command a proper history of nature and experience, and would
apply themselves steadily to it, and could bind themselves to two
things: 1, to lay aside received opinions and notions; 2, to restrain
themselves, till the proper season, from generalization, they might,
by the proper and genuine exertion of their minds, fall into our way
of interpretation without the aid of any art. For interpretation is
the true and natural act of the mind, when all obstacles are removed:
certainly, however, everything will be more ready and better fixed by
our precepts.

Yet do we not affirm that no addition can be made to them; on the
contrary, considering the mind in its connection with things, and not
merely relatively to its own powers, we ought to be persuaded that the
art of invention can be made to grow with the inventions themselves.


FOOTNOTES

[2] Bacon uses the term in its ancient sense, and means one who,
knowing the occult properties of bodies, is able to startle the
ignorant by drawing out of them wonderful and unforeseen changes. See
the 85th aphorism of this book, and the 5th cap. book iii. of the De
Augmentis Scientiarum, where he speaks more clearly. --_Ed. _

[3] By this term axiomata, Bacon here speaks of general principles, or
universal laws. In the 19th aphorism he employs the term to express
any proposition collected from facts by induction, and thus fitted to
become the starting-point of deductive reasoning. In the last and more
rigorous sense of the term, Bacon held they arose from experience. See
Whewell’s “Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences,” vol. i. p. 74; and
Mill’s “Logic,” vol. i. p. 311; and the June “Quarterly,” 1841, for the
modern phase of the discussion. --_Ed. _

[4] Bacon here attributes to the Aristotelian logic the erroneous
consequences which sprung out of its abuse. The demonstrative forms it
exhibits, whether verbally or mathematically expressed, are necessary
to the support, verification, and extension of induction, and when
the propositions they embrace are founded on an accurate and close
observation of facts, the conclusions to which they lead, even in moral
science, may be regarded as certain as the facts wrested out of nature
by direct experiment. In physics such forms are absolutely required
to generalize the results of experience, and to connect intermediate
axioms with laws still more general, as is sufficiently attested by the
fact, that no science since Bacon’s day has ceased to be experimental
by the mere method of induction, and that all become exact only so far
as they rise above experience, and connect their isolated phenomena
with general laws by the principles of deductive reasoning. So far,
then, are these forms from being useless, that they are absolutely
essential to the advancement of the sciences, and in no case can be
looked on as detrimental, except when obtruded in the place of direct
experiment, or employed as a means of deducing conclusions about nature
from imaginary hypotheses and abstract conceptions. This had been
unfortunately the practice of the Greeks. From the rapid development
geometry received in their hands, they imagined the same method would
lead to results equally brilliant in natural science, and snatching up
some abstract principle, which they carefully removed from the test of
experiment, imagined they could reason out from it all the laws and
external appearances of the universe. The scholastics were impelled
along the same path, not only by precedent, but by profession. Theology
was the only science which received from them a consistent development,
and the _à priori_ grounds on which it rested prevented them from
employing any other method in the pursuit of natural phenomena. Thus,
forms of demonstration, in themselves accurate, and of momentous value
in their proper sphere, became confounded with fable, and led men into
the idea they were exploring truth when they were only accurately
deducing error from error. One principle ever so slightly deflected,
like a false quantity in an equation, could be sufficient to infect the
whole series of conclusions of which it was the base; and though the
philosopher might subsequently deduce a thousand consecutive inferences
with the utmost accuracy or precision, he would only succeed in drawing
out very methodically nine hundred and ninety-nine errors. --_Ed. _

[5] It would appear from this and the two preceding aphorisms, that
Bacon fell into the error of denying the utility of the syllogism in
the very part of inductive science where it is essentially required.
Logic, like mathematics, is purely a formal process, and must, as
the scaffolding to the building, be employed to arrange facts in the
structure of a science, and not to form any portion of its groundwork,
or to supply the materials of which the system is to be composed. The
word syllogism, like most other psychological terms, has no fixed or
original signification, but is sometimes employed, as it was by the
Greeks, to denote general reasoning, and at others to point out the
formal method of deducing a particular inference from two or more
general propositions. Bacon does not confine the term within the
boundaries of express definition, but leaves us to infer that he took
it in the latter sense, from his custom of associating the term with
the wranglings of the schools. The scholastics, it is true, abused the
deductive syllogism, by employing it in its naked, skeleton-like form,
and confounding it with the whole breadth of logical theory; but their
errors are not to be visited on Aristotle, who never dreamed of playing
with formal syllogisms, and, least of all, mistook the descending for
the ascending series of inference. In our mind we are of accord with
the Stagyrite, who propounds, as far as we can interpret him, two modes
of investigating truth--the one by which we ascend from particular and
singular facts to general laws and axioms, and the other by which we
descend from universal propositions to the individual cases which they
virtually include. Logic, therefore, must equally vindicate the formal
purity of the synthetic illation by which it ascends to the whole, as
the analytic process by which it descends to the parts. The deductive
and inductive syllogism are of equal significance in building up any
body of truth, and whoever restricts logic to either process, mistakes
one-half of its province for the whole; and if he acts upon his error,
will paralyze his methods, and strike the noblest part of science with
sterility. --_Ed. _

[6] The Latin is, _ad ea quæ revera sunt naturæ notiora_. This
expression, _naturæ notiora_, _naturæ notior_, is so frequently
employed by Bacon, that we may conclude it to point to some
distinguishing feature in the Baconian physics. It properly refers
to the most evident principles and laws of nature, and springs from
that system which regards the material universe as endowed with
intelligence, and acting according to rules either fashioned or clearly
understood by itself. --_Ed. _

[7] This Borgia was Alexander VI. , and the expedition alluded to that
in which Charles VIII.