No More Learning

(1) Nevertheless, there remaineth yet another part of natural
philosophy, which is commonly made a principal part, and holdeth rank
with physic special and metaphysic, which is mathematic; but I think it
more agreeable to the nature of things, and to the light of order, to
place it as a branch of metaphysic. For the subject of it being
quantity, not quantity indefinite, which is but a relative, and belongeth
to _philosophia prima_ (as hath been said), but quantity determined or
proportionable, it appeareth to be one of the essential forms of things,
as that that is causative in Nature of a number of effects; insomuch as
we see in the schools both of Democritus and of Pythagoras that the one
did ascribe figure to the first seeds of things, and the other did
suppose numbers to be the principles and originals of things. And it is
true also that of all other forms (as we understand forms) it is the most
abstracted and separable from matter, and therefore most proper to
metaphysic; which hath likewise been the cause why it hath been better
laboured and inquired than any of the other forms, which are more
immersed in matter. For it being the nature of the mind of man (to the
extreme prejudice of knowledge) to delight in the spacious liberty of
generalities, as in a champaign region, and not in the inclosures of
particularity, the mathematics of all other knowledge were the goodliest
fields to satisfy that appetite. But for the placing of this science, it
is not much material: only we have endeavoured in these our partitions to
observe a kind of perspective, that one part may cast light upon another.

(2) The mathematics are either pure or mixed. To the pure mathematics
are those sciences belonging which handle quantity determinate, merely
severed from any axioms of natural philosophy; and these are two,
geometry and arithmetic, the one handling quantity continued, and the
other dissevered. Mixed hath for subject some axioms or parts of natural
philosophy, and considereth quantity determined, as it is auxiliary and
incident unto them. For many parts of Nature can neither be invented
with sufficient subtlety, nor demonstrated with sufficient perspicuity,
nor accommodated unto use with sufficient dexterity, without the aid and
intervening of the mathematics, of which sort are perspective, music,
astronomy, cosmography, architecture, engineery, and divers others. In
the mathematics I can report no deficience, except it be that men do not
sufficiently understand this excellent use of the pure mathematics, in
that they do remedy and cure many defects in the wit and faculties
intellectual. For if the wit be too dull, they sharpen it; if too
wandering, they fix it; if too inherent in the sense, they abstract it.
So that as tennis is a game of no use in itself, but of great use in
respect it maketh a quick eye and a body ready to put itself into all
postures, so in the mathematics that use which is collateral and
intervenient is no less worthy than that which is principal and intended.
And as for the mixed mathematics, I may only make this prediction, that
there cannot fail to be more kinds of them as Nature grows further
disclosed. Thus much of natural science, or the part of Nature
speculative.

(3) For natural prudence, or the part operative of natural philosophy, we
will divide it into three parts—experimental, philosophical, and magical;
which three parts active have a correspondence and analogy with the three
parts speculative, natural history, physic, and metaphysic. For many
operations have been invented, sometimes by a casual incidence and
occurrence, sometimes by a purposed experiment; and of those which have
been found by an intentional experiment, some have been found out by
varying or extending the same experiment, some by transferring and
compounding divers experiments the one into the other, which kind of
invention an empiric may manage. Again, by the knowledge of physical
causes there cannot fail to follow many indications and designations of
new particulars, if men in their speculation will keep one eye upon use
and practice. But these are but coastings along the shore, _premendo
littus iniquum_; for it seemeth to me there can hardly be discovered any
radical or fundamental alterations and innovations in Nature, either by
the fortune and essays of experiments, or by the light and direction of
physical causes. If, therefore, we have reported metaphysic deficient,
it must follow that we do the like of natural magic, which hath relation
thereunto. For as for the natural magic whereof now there is mention in
books, containing certain credulous and superstitious conceits and
observations of sympathies and antipathies, and hidden proprieties, and
some frivolous experiments, strange rather by disguisement than in
themselves, it is as far differing in truth of Nature from such a
knowledge as we require as the story of King Arthur of Britain, or Hugh
of Bourdeaux, differs from Cæsar’s Commentaries in truth of story; for it
is manifest that Cæsar did greater things _de vero_ than those imaginary
heroes were feigned to do. But he did them not in that fabulous manner.
Of this kind of learning the fable of Ixion was a figure, who designed to
enjoy Juno, the goddess of power, and instead of her had copulation with
a cloud, of which mixture were begotten centaurs and chimeras. So
whosoever shall entertain high and vaporous imaginations, instead of a
laborious and sober inquiry of truth, shall beget hopes and beliefs of
strange and impossible shapes. And, therefore, we may note in these
sciences which hold so much of imagination and belief, as this degenerate
natural magic, alchemy, astrology, and the like, that in their
propositions the description of the means is ever more monstrous than the
pretence or end. For it is a thing more probable that he that knoweth
well the natures of weight, of colour, of pliant and fragile in respect
of the hammer, of volatile and fixed in respect of the fire, and the
rest, may superinduce upon some metal the nature and form of gold by such
mechanic as longeth to the production of the natures afore rehearsed,
than that some grains of the medicine projected should in a few moments
of time turn a sea of quicksilver or other material into gold. So it is
more probable that he that knoweth the nature of arefaction, the nature
of assimilation of nourishment to the thing nourished, the manner of
increase and clearing of spirits, the manner of the depredations which
spirits make upon the humours and solid parts, shall by ambages of diets,
bathings, anointings, medicines, motions, and the like, prolong life, or
restore some degree of youth or vivacity, than that it can be done with
the use of a few drops or scruples of a liquor or receipt. To conclude,
therefore, the true natural magic, which is that great liberty and
latitude of operation which dependeth upon the knowledge of forms, I may
report deficient, as the relative thereof is. To which part, if we be
serious and incline not to vanities and plausible discourse, besides the
deriving and deducing the operations themselves from metaphysic, there
are pertinent two points of much purpose, the one by way of preparation,
the other by way of caution. The first is, that there be made a
calendar, resembling an inventory of the estate of man, containing all
the inventions (being the works or fruits of Nature or art) which are now
extant, and whereof man is already possessed; out of which doth naturally
result a note what things are yet held impossible, or not invented, which
calendar will be the more artificial and serviceable if to every reputed
impossibility you add what thing is extant which cometh the nearest in
degree to that impossibility; to the end that by these optatives and
potentials man’s inquiry may be the more awake in deducing direction of
works from the speculation of causes. And secondly, that these
experiments be not only esteemed which have an immediate and present use,
but those principally which are of most universal consequence for
invention of other experiments, and those which give most light to the
invention of causes; for the invention of the mariner’s needle, which
giveth the direction, is of no less benefit for navigation than the
invention of the sails which give the motion.

(4) Thus have I passed through natural philosophy and the deficiences
thereof; wherein if I have differed from the ancient and received
doctrines, and thereby shall move contradiction, for my part, as I affect
not to dissent, so I purpose not to contend. If it be truth,

“Non canimus surdis, respondent omnia sylvæ,”

the voice of Nature will consent, whether the voice of man do or no. And
as Alexander Borgia was wont to say of the expedition of the French for
Naples, that they came with chalk in their hands to mark up their
lodgings, and not with weapons to fight; so I like better that entry of
truth which cometh peaceably with chalk to mark up those minds which are
capable to lodge and harbour it, than that which cometh with pugnacity
and contention.

(5) But there remaineth a division of natural philosophy according to the
report of the inquiry, and nothing concerning the matter or subject: and
that is positive and considerative, when the inquiry reporteth either an
assertion or a doubt. These doubts or _non liquets_ are of two sorts,
particular and total. For the first, we see a good example thereof in
Aristotle’s Problems which deserved to have had a better continuance; but
so nevertheless as there is one point whereof warning is to be given and
taken. The registering of doubts hath two excellent uses: the one, that
it saveth philosophy from errors and falsehoods; when that which is not
fully appearing is not collected into assertion, whereby error might draw
error, but reserved in doubt; the other, that the entry of doubts are as
so many suckers or sponges to draw use of knowledge; insomuch as that
which if doubts had not preceded, a man should never have advised, but
passed it over without note, by the suggestion and solicitation of doubts
is made to be attended and applied. But both these commodities do
scarcely countervail and inconvenience, which will intrude itself if it
be not debarred; which is, that when a doubt is once received, men labour
rather how to keep it a doubt still, than how to solve it, and
accordingly bend their wits. Of this we see the familiar example in
lawyers and scholars, both which, if they have once admitted a doubt, it
goeth ever after authorised for a doubt. But that use of wit and
knowledge is to be allowed, which laboureth to make doubtful things
certain, and not those which labour to make certain things doubtful.
Therefore these calendars of doubts I commend as excellent things; so
that there he this caution used, that when they be thoroughly sifted and
brought to resolution, they be from thenceforth omitted, discarded, and
not continued to cherish and encourage men in doubting. To which
calendar of doubts or problems I advise be annexed another calendar, as
much or more material which is a calendar of popular errors: I mean
chiefly in natural history, such as pass in speech and conceit, and are
nevertheless apparently detected and convicted of untruth, that man’s
knowledge be not weakened nor embased by such dross and vanity. As for
the doubts or _non liquets_ general or in total, I understand those
differences of opinions touching the principles of nature, and the
fundamental points of the same, which have caused the diversity of sects,
schools, and philosophies, as that of Empedocles, Pythagoras, Democritus,
Parmenides, and the rest. For although Aristotle, as though he had been
of the race of the Ottomans, thought he could not reign except the first
thing he did he killed all his brethren; yet to those that seek truth and
not magistrality, it cannot but seem a matter of great profit, to see
before them the several opinions touching the foundations of nature. Not
for any exact truth that can be expected in those theories; for as the
same phenomena in astronomy are satisfied by this received astronomy of
the diurnal motion, and the proper motions of the planets, with their
eccentrics and epicycles, and likewise by the theory of Copernicus, who
supposed the earth to move, and the calculations are indifferently
agreeable to both, so the ordinary face and view of experience is many
times satisfied by several theories and philosophies; whereas to find the
real truth requireth another manner of severity and attention. For as
Aristotle saith, that children at the first will call every woman mother,
but afterward they come to distinguish according to truth, so experience,
if it be in childhood, will call every philosophy mother, but when it
cometh to ripeness it will discern the true mother. So as in the
meantime it is good to see the several glosses and opinions upon Nature,
whereof it may be everyone in some one point hath seen clearer than his
fellows, therefore I wish some collection to be made painfully and
understandingly _de antiquis philosophiis_, out of all the possible light
which remaineth to us of them: which kind of work I find deficient. But
here I must give warning, that it be done distinctly and severedly; the
philosophies of everyone throughout by themselves, and not by titles
packed and faggoted up together, as hath been done by Plutarch. For it
is the harmony of a philosophy in itself, which giveth it light and
credence; whereas if it be singled and broken, it will seem more foreign
and dissonant. For as when I read in Tacitus the actions of Nero or
Claudius, with circumstances of times, inducements, and occasions, I find
them not so strange; but when I read them in Suetonius Tranquillus,
gathered into titles and bundles and not in order of time, they seem more
monstrous and incredible: so is it of any philosophy reported entire, and
dismembered by articles. Neither do I exclude opinions of latter times
to be likewise represented in this calendar of sects of philosophy, as
that of Theophrastus Paracelsus, eloquently reduced into an harmony by
the pen of Severinus the Dane; and that of Tilesius, and his scholar
Donius, being as a pastoral philosophy, full of sense, but of no great
depth; and that of Fracastorius, who, though he pretended not to make any
new philosophy, yet did use the absoluteness of his own sense upon the
old; and that of Gilbertus our countryman, who revived, with some
alterations and demonstrations, the opinions of Xenophanes; and any other
worthy to be admitted.

(6) Thus have we now dealt with two of the three beams of man’s
knowledge; that is _radius directus_, which is referred to nature,
_radius refractus_, which is referred to God, and cannot report truly
because of the inequality of the medium. There resteth _radius
reflexus_, whereby man beholdeth and contemplateth himself.

IX. (1) We come therefore now to that knowledge whereunto the ancient
oracle directeth us, which is the knowledge of ourselves; which deserveth
the more accurate handling, by how much it toucheth us more nearly. This
knowledge, as it is the end and term of natural philosophy in the
intention of man, so notwithstanding it is but a portion of natural
philosophy in the continent of Nature. And generally let this be a rule,
that all partitions of knowledges be accepted rather for lines and veins
than for sections and separations; and that the continuance and
entireness of knowledge be preserved. For the contrary hereof hath made
particular sciences to become barren, shallow, and erroneous, while they
have not been nourished and maintained from the common fountain. So we
see Cicero, the orator, complained of Socrates and his school, that he
was the first that separated philosophy and rhetoric; whereupon rhetoric
became an empty and verbal art. So we may see that the opinion of
Copernicus, touching the rotation of the earth, which astronomy itself
cannot correct, because it is not repugnant to any of the _phenomena_,
yet natural philosophy may correct. So we see also that the science of
medicine if it be destituted and forsaken by natural philosophy, it is
not much better than an empirical practice. With this reservation,
therefore, we proceed to human philosophy or humanity, which hath two
parts: the one considereth man segregate or distributively, the other
congregate or in society; so as human philosophy is either simple and
particular, or conjugate and civil. Humanity particular consisteth of
the same parts whereof man consisteth: that is, of knowledges which
respect the body, and of knowledges that respect the mind. But before we
distribute so far, it is good to constitute. For I do take the
consideration in general, and at large, of human nature to be fit to be
emancipate and made a knowledge by itself, not so much in regard of those
delightful and elegant discourses which have been made of the dignity of
man, of his miseries, of his state and life, and the like adjuncts of his
common and undivided nature; but chiefly in regard of the knowledge
concerning the sympathies and concordances between the mind and body,
which being mixed cannot be properly assigned to the sciences of either.

(2) This knowledge hath two branches: for as all leagues and amities
consist of mutual intelligence and mutual offices, so this league of mind
and body hath these two parts: how the one discloseth the other, and how
the one worketh upon the other; discovery and impression. The former of
these hath begotten two arts, both of prediction or prenotion; whereof
the one is honoured with the inquiry of Aristotle, and the other of
Hippocrates. And although they have of later time been used to be
coupled with superstitions and fantastical arts, yet being purged and
restored to their true state, they have both of them a solid ground in
Nature, and a profitable use in life. The first is physiognomy, which
discovereth the disposition of the mind by the lineaments of the body.
The second is the exposition of natural dreams, which discovereth the
state of the body by the imaginations of the mind. In the former of
these I note a deficience. For Aristotle hath very ingeniously and
diligently handled the factures of the body, but not the gestures of the
body, which are no less comprehensible by art, and of greater use and
advantage. For the lineaments of the body do disclose the disposition
and inclination of the mind in general; but the motions of the
countenance and parts do not only so, but do further disclose the present
humour and state of the mind and will. For as your majesty saith most
aptly and elegantly, “As the tongue speaketh to the ear so the gesture
speaketh to the eye. ” And, therefore, a number of subtle persons, whose
eyes do dwell upon the faces and fashions of men, do well know the
advantage of this observation, as being most part of their ability;
neither can it be denied, but that it is a great discovery of
dissimulations, and a great direction in business.

(3) The latter branch, touching impression, hath not been collected into
art, but hath been handled dispersedly; and it hath the same relation or
_antistrophe_ that the former hath. For the consideration is
double—either how and how far the humours and affects of the body do
alter or work upon the mind, or, again, how and how far the passions or
apprehensions of the mind do alter or work upon the body. The former of
these hath been inquired and considered as a part and appendix of
medicine, but much more as a part of religion or superstition. For the
physician prescribeth cures of the mind in frenzies and melancholy
passions, and pretendeth also to exhibit medicines to exhilarate the
mind, to control the courage, to clarify the wits, to corroborate the
memory, and the like; but the scruples and superstitions of diet and
other regiment of the body in the sect of the Pythagoreans, in the heresy
of the Manichees, and in the law of Mahomet, do exceed. So likewise the
ordinances in the ceremonial law, interdicting the eating of the blood
and the fat, distinguishing between beasts clean and unclean for meat,
are many and strict; nay, the faith itself being clear and serene from
all clouds of ceremony, yet retaineth the use of fastlings, abstinences,
and other macerations and humiliations of the body, as things real, and
not figurative. The root and life of all which prescripts is (besides
the ceremony) the consideration of that dependency which the affections
of the mind are submitted unto upon the state and disposition of the
body. And if any man of weak judgment do conceive that this suffering of
the mind from the body doth either question the immortality, or derogate
from the sovereignty of the soul, he may be taught, in easy instances,
that the infant in the mother’s womb is compatible with the mother, and
yet separable; and the most absolute monarch is sometimes led by his
servants, and yet without subjection. As for the reciprocal knowledge,
which is the operation of the conceits and passions of the mind upon the
body, we see all wise physicians, in the prescriptions of their regiments
to their patients, do ever consider _accidentia animi_, as of great force
to further or hinder remedies or recoveries: and more specially it is an
inquiry of great depth and worth concerning imagination, how and how far
it altereth the body proper of the imaginant; for although it hath a
manifest power to hurt, it followeth not it hath the same degree of power
to help. No more than a man can conclude, that because there be
pestilent airs, able suddenly to kill a man in health, therefore there
should be sovereign airs, able suddenly to cure a man in sickness. But
the inquisition of this part is of great use, though it needeth, as
Socrates said, “a Delian diver,” being difficult and profound. But unto
all this knowledge _de communi vinculo_, of the concordances between the
mind and the body, that part of inquiry is most necessary which
considereth of the seats and domiciles which the several faculties of the
mind do take and occupate in the organs of the body; which knowledge hath
been attempted, and is controverted, and deserveth to be much better
inquired. For the opinion of Plato, who placed the understanding in the
brain, animosity (which he did unfitly call anger, having a greater
mixture with pride) in the heart, and concupiscence or sensuality in the
liver, deserveth not to be despised, but much less to be allowed. So,
then, we have constituted (as in our own wish and advice) the inquiry
touching human nature entire, as a just portion of knowledge to be
handled apart.

X. (1) The knowledge that concerneth man’s body is divided as the good of
man’s body is divided, unto which it referreth. The good of man’s body
is of four kinds—health, beauty, strength, and pleasure: so the
knowledges are medicine, or art of cure; art of decoration, which is
called cosmetic; art of activity, which is called athletic; and art
voluptuary, which Tacitus truly calleth _eruditus luxus_. This subject
of man’s body is, of all other things in nature, most susceptible of
remedy; but then that remedy is most susceptible of error; for the same
subtlety of the subject doth cause large possibility and easy failing,
and therefore the inquiry ought to be the more exact.

(2) To speak, therefore, of medicine, and to resume that we have said,
ascending a little higher: the ancient opinion that man was
_microcosmus_—an abstract or model of the world—hath been fantastically
strained by Paracelsus and the alchemists, as if there were to be found
in man’s body certain correspondences and parallels, which should have
respect to all varieties of things, as stars, planets, minerals, which
are extant in the great world. But thus much is evidently true, that of
all substances which nature hath produced, man’s body is the most
extremely compounded. For we see herbs and plants are nourished by earth
and water; beasts for the most part by herbs and fruits; man by the flesh
of beasts, birds, fishes, herbs, grains, fruits, water, and the manifold
alterations, dressings, and preparations of these several bodies before
they come to be his food and aliment. Add hereunto that beasts have a
more simple order of life, and less change of affections to work upon
their bodies, whereas man in his mansion, sleep, exercise, passions, hath
infinite variations: and it cannot be denied but that the body of man of
all other things is of the most compounded mass. The soul, on the other
side, is the simplest of substances, as is well expressed:

“Purumque reliquit
Æthereum sensum atque auraï simplicis ignem. ”

So that it is no marvel though the soul so placed enjoy no rest, if that
principle be true, that _Motus rerum est rapidus extra locum_, _placidus
in loco_. But to the purpose. This variable composition of man’s body
hath made it as an instrument easy to distemper; and, therefore, the
poets did well to conjoin music and medicine in Apollo, because the
office of medicine is but to tune this curious harp of man’s body and to
reduce it to harmony. So, then, the subject being so variable hath made
the art by consequent more conjectural; and the art being conjectural
hath made so much the more place to be left for imposture. For almost
all other arts and sciences are judged by acts or masterpieces, as I may
term them, and not by the successes and events. The lawyer is judged by
the virtue of his pleading, and not by the issue of the cause; this
master in this ship is judged by the directing his course aright, and not
by the fortune of the voyage; but the physician, and perhaps this
politique, hath no particular acts demonstrative of his ability, but is
judged most by the event, which is ever but as it is taken: for who can
tell, if a patient die or recover, or if a state be preserved or ruined,
whether it be art or accident? And therefore many times the impostor is
prized, and the man of virtue taxed. Nay, we see [the] weakness and
credulity of men is such, as they will often refer a mountebank or witch
before a learned physician. And therefore the poets were clear-sighted
in discerning this extreme folly when they made Æsculapius and Circe,
brother and sister, both children of the sun, as in the verses—

“Ipse repertorem medicinæ talis et artis
Fulmine Phœbigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas. ”

And again—

“Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos,” &c.

For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches and old women
and impostors, have had a competition with physicians. And what
followeth? Even this, that physicians say to themselves, as Solomon
expresseth it upon a higher occasion, “If it befall to me as befalleth to
the fools, why should I labour to be more wise? ” And therefore I cannot
much blame physicians that they use commonly to intend some other art or
practice, which they fancy more than their profession; for you shall have
of them antiquaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, merchants, divines, and
in every of these better seen than in their profession; and no doubt upon
this ground that they find that mediocrity and excellency in their art
maketh no difference in profit or reputation towards their fortune: for
the weakness of patients, and sweetness of life, and nature of hope,
maketh men depend upon physicians with all their defects. But,
nevertheless, these things which we have spoken of are courses begotten
between a little occasion and a great deal of sloth and default; for if
we will excite and awake our observation, we shall see in familiar
instances what a predominant faculty the subtlety of spirit hath over the
variety of matter or form. Nothing more variable than faces and
countenances, yet men can bear in memory the infinite distinctions of
them; nay, a painter, with a few shells of colours, and the benefit of
his eye, and habit of his imagination, can imitate them all that ever
have been, are, or may be, if they were brought before him. Nothing more
variable than voices, yet men can likewise discern them personally: nay,
you shall have a _buffon_ or _pantomimus_ will express as many as he
pleaseth. Nothing more variable than the differing sounds of words; yet
men have found the way to reduce them to a few simple letters. So that
it is not the insufficiency or incapacity of man’s mind, but it is the
remote standing or placing thereof that breedeth these mazes and
incomprehensions; for as the sense afar off is full of mistaking, but is
exact at hand, so is it of the understanding, the remedy whereof is, not
to quicken or strengthen the organ, but to go nearer to the object; and
therefore there is no doubt but if the physicians will learn and use the
true approaches and avenues of nature, they may assume as much as the
poet saith:

“Et quoniam variant morbi, variabimus artes;
Mille mali species, mille salutis erunt. ”

Which that they should do, the nobleness of their art doth deserve: well
shadowed by the poets, in that they made Æsculapius to be the son of
[the] sun, the one being the fountain of life, the other as the
second-stream; but infinitely more honoured by the example of our
Saviour, who made the body of man the object of His miracles, as the soul
was the object of His doctrine. For we read not that ever He vouchsafed
to do any miracle about honour or money (except that one for giving
tribute to Cæsar), but only about the preserving, sustaining, and healing
the body of man.

(3) Medicine is a science which hath been (as we have said) more
professed than laboured, and yet more laboured than advanced; the labour
having been, in my judgment, rather in circle than in progression. For I
find much iteration, but small addition. It considereth causes of
diseases, with the occasions or impulsions; the diseases themselves, with
the accidents; and the cures, with the preservations. The deficiences
which I think good to note, being a few of many, and those such as are of
a more open and manifest nature, I will enumerate and not place.

(4) The first is the discontinuance of the ancient and serious diligence
of Hippocrates, which used to set down a narrative of the special cases
of his patients, and how they proceeded, and how they were judged by
recovery or death. Therefore having an example proper in the father of
the art, I shall not need to allege an example foreign, of the wisdom of
the lawyers, who are careful to report new cases and decisions, for the
direction of future judgments. This continuance of medicinal history I
find deficient; which I understand neither to be so infinite as to extend
to every common case, nor so reserved as to admit none but wonders: for
many things are new in this manner, which are not new in the kind; and if
men will intend to observe, they shall find much worthy to observe.

(5) In the inquiry which is made by anatomy, I find much deficience: for
they inquire of the parts, and their substances, figures, and
collocations; but they inquire not of the diversities of the parts, the
secrecies of the passages, and the seats or nestling of the humours, nor
much of the footsteps and impressions of diseases. The reason of which
omission I suppose to be, because the first inquiry may be satisfied in
the view of one or a few anatomies; but the latter, being comparative and
casual, must arise from the view of many. And as to the diversity of
parts, there is no doubt but the facture or framing of the inward parts
is as full of difference as the outward, and in that is the cause
continent of many diseases; which not being observed, they quarrel many
times with the humours, which are not in fault; the fault being in the
very frame and mechanic of the part, which cannot be removed by medicine
alterative, but must be accommodated and palliated by diets and medicines
familiar. And for the passages and pores, it is true which was anciently
noted, that the more subtle of them appear not in anatomies, because they
are shut and latent in dead bodies, though they be open and manifest in
life: which being supposed, though the inhumanity of _anatomia vivorum_
was by Celsus justly reproved; yet in regard of the great use of this
observation, the inquiry needed not by him so slightly to have been
relinquished altogether, or referred to the casual practices of surgery;
but might have been well diverted upon the dissection of beasts alive,
which notwithstanding the dissimilitude of their parts may sufficiently
satisfy this inquiry. And for the humours, they are commonly passed over
in anatomies as purgaments; whereas it is most necessary to observe, what
cavities, nests, and receptacles the humours do find in the parts, with
the differing kind of the humour so lodged and received. And as for the
footsteps of diseases, and their devastations of the inward parts,
impostumations, exulcerations, discontinuations, putrefactions,
consumptions, contractions, extensions, convulsions, dislocations,
obstructions, repletions, together with all preternatural substances, as
stones, carnosities, excrescences, worms, and the like; they ought to
have been exactly observed by multitude of anatomies, and the
contribution of men’s several experiences, and carefully set down both
historically according to the appearances, and artificially with a
reference to the diseases and symptoms which resulted from them, in case
where the anatomy is of a defunct patient; whereas now upon opening of
bodies they are passed over slightly and in silence.

(6) In the inquiry of diseases, they do abandon the cures of many, some
as in their nature incurable, and others as past the period of cure; so
that Sylla and the Triumvirs never proscribed so many men to die, as they
do by their ignorant edicts: whereof numbers do escape with less
difficulty than they did in the Roman prescriptions. Therefore I will
not doubt to note as a deficience, that they inquire not the perfect
cures of many diseases, or extremities of diseases; but pronouncing them
incurable do enact a law of neglect, and exempt ignorance from discredit.

(7) Nay further, I esteem it the office of a physician not only to
restore health, but to mitigate pain and dolors; and not only when such
mitigation may conduce to recovery, but when it may serve to make a fair
and easy passage. For it is no small felicity which Augustus Cæsar was
wont to wish to himself, that same _Euthanasia_; and which was specially
noted in the death of Antoninus Pius, whose death was after the fashion,
and semblance of a kindly and pleasant sheep. So it is written of
Epicurus, that after his disease was judged desperate, he drowned his
stomach and senses with a large draught and ingurgitation of wine;
whereupon the epigram was made, _Hinc Stygias ebrius hausit aquas_; he
was not sober enough to taste any bitterness of the Stygian water. But
the physicians contrariwise do make a kind of scruple and religion to
stay with the patient after the disease is deplored; whereas in my
judgment they ought both to inquire the skill, and to give the
attendances, for the facilitating and assuaging of the pains and agonies
of death.

(5) In the consideration of the cures of diseases, I find a deficience in
the receipts of propriety, respecting the particular cures of diseases:
for the physicians have frustrated the fruit of tradition and experience
by their magistralities, in adding and taking out and changing _quid pro
qua_ in their receipts, at their pleasures; commanding so over the
medicine, as the medicine cannot command over the disease. For except it
be treacle and _mithridatum_, and of late _diascordium_, and a few more,
they tie themselves to no receipts severely and religiously. For as to
the confections of sale which are in the shops, they are for readiness
and not for propriety. For they are upon general intentions of purging,
opening, comforting, altering, and not much appropriate to particular
diseases. And this is the cause why empirics and old women are more
happy many times in their cures than learned physicians, because they are
more religious in holding their medicines. Therefore here is the
deficience which I find, that physicians have not, partly out of their
own practice, partly out of the constant probations reported in books,
and partly out of the traditions of empirics, set down and delivered over
certain experimental medicines for the cure of particular diseases,
besides their own conjectural and magistral descriptions. For as they
were the men of the best composition in the state of Rome, which either
being consuls inclined to the people, or being tribunes inclined to the
senate; so in the matter we now handle, they be the best physicians,
which being learned incline to the traditions of experience, or being
empirics incline to the methods of learning.

(9) In preparation of medicines I do find strange, specially considering
how mineral medicines have been extolled, and that they are safer for the
outward than inward parts, that no man hath sought to make an imitation
by art of natural baths and medicinable fountains: which nevertheless are
confessed to receive their virtues from minerals; and not so only, but
discerned and distinguished from what particular mineral they receive
tincture, as sulphur, vitriol, steel, or the like; which nature, if it
may be reduced to compositions of art, both the variety of them will be
increased, and the temper of them will be more commanded.

(10) But lest I grow to be more particular than is agreeable either to my
intention or to proportion, I will conclude this part with the note of
one deficience more, which seemeth to me of greatest consequence: which
is, that the prescripts in use are too compendious to attain their end;
for, to my understanding, it is a vain and flattering opinion to think
any medicine can be so sovereign or so happy, as that the receipt or miss
of it can work any great effect upon the body of man. It were a strange
speech which spoken, or spoken oft, should reclaim a man from a vice to
which he were by nature subject. It is order, pursuit, sequence, and
interchange of application, which is mighty in nature; which although it
require more exact knowledge in prescribing, and more precise obedience
in observing, yet is recompensed with the magnitude of effects. And
although a man would think, by the daily visitations of the physicians,
that there were a pursuance in the cure, yet let a man look into their
prescripts and ministrations, and he shall find them but inconstancies
and every day’s devices, without any settled providence or project. Not
that every scrupulous or superstitious prescript is effectual, no more
than every straight way is the way to heaven; but the truth of the
direction must precede severity of observance.

(11) For cosmetic, it hath parts civil, and parts effeminate: for
cleanness of body was ever esteemed to proceed from a due reverence to
God, to society, and to ourselves. As for artificial decoration, it is
well worthy of the deficiences which it hath; being neither fine enough
to deceive, nor handsome to use, nor wholesome to please.

(12) For athletic, I take the subject of it largely, that is to say, for
any point of ability whereunto the body of man may be brought, whether it
be of activity, or of patience; whereof activity hath two parts, strength
and swiftness; and patience likewise hath two parts, hardness against
wants and extremities, and endurance of pain or torment; whereof we see
the practices in tumblers, in savages, and in those that suffer
punishment. Nay, if there be any other faculty which falls not within
any of the former divisions, as in those that dive, that obtain a strange
power of containing respiration, and the like, I refer it to this part.
Of these things the practices are known, but the philosophy that
concerneth them is not much inquired; the rather, I think, because they
are supposed to be obtained, either by an aptness of nature, which cannot
be taught, or only by continual custom, which is soon prescribed which
though it be not true, yet I forbear to note any deficiences; for the
Olympian games are down long since, and the mediocrity of these things is
for use; as for the excellency of them it serveth for the most part but
for mercenary ostentation.

(13) For arts of pleasure sensual, the chief deficience in them is of
laws to repress them. For as it hath been well observed, that the arts
which flourish in times while virtue is in growth, are military; and
while virtue is in state, are liberal; and while virtue is in
declination, are voluptuary: so I doubt that this age of the world is
somewhat upon the descent of the wheel. With arts voluptuary I couple
practices joculary; for the deceiving of the senses is one of the
pleasures of the senses. As for games of recreation, I hold them to
belong to civil life and education. And thus much of that particular
human philosophy which concerns the body, which is but the tabernacle of
the mind.

XI. (1) For human knowledge which concerns the mind, it hath two parts;
the one that inquireth of the substance or nature of the soul or mind,
the other that inquireth of the faculties or functions thereof. Unto
the first of these, the considerations of the original of the soul,
whether it be native or adventive, and how far it is exempted from laws
of matter, and of the immortality thereof, and many other points, do
appertain: which have been not more laboriously inquired than variously
reported; so as the travail therein taken seemeth to have been rather in
a maze than in a way. But although I am of opinion that this knowledge
may be more really and soundly inquired, even in nature, than it hath
been, yet I hold that in the end it must be hounded by religion, or else
it will be subject to deceit and delusion. For as the substance of the
soul in the creation was not extracted out of the mass of heaven and
earth by the benediction of a _producat_, but was immediately inspired
from God, so it is not possible that it should be (otherwise than by
accident) subject to the laws of heaven and earth, which are the subject
of philosophy; and therefore the true knowledge of the nature and state
of the soul must come by the same inspiration that gave the substance.
Unto this part of knowledge touching the soul there be two appendices;
which, as they have been handled, have rather vapoured forth fables than
kindled truth: divination and fascination.

(2) Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided into artificial and
natural: whereof artificial is, when the mind maketh a prediction by
argument, concluding upon signs and tokens; natural is, when the mind
hath a presention by an internal power, without the inducement of a sign.
Artificial is of two sorts: either when the argument is coupled with a
derivation of causes, which is rational; or when it is only grounded upon
a coincidence of the effect, which is experimental: whereof the latter
for the most part is superstitious, such as were the heathen observations
upon the inspection of sacrifices, the flights of birds, the swarming of
bees; and such as was the Chaldean astrology, and the like. For
artificial divination, the several kinds thereof are distributed amongst
particular knowledges. The astronomer hath his predictions, as of
conjunctions, aspects, eclipses, and the like. The physician hath his
predictions, of death, of recovery, of the accidents and issues of
diseases. The politique hath his predictions; _O urbem venalem_, _et
cito perituram_, _si emptorem invenerit_! which stayed not long to be
performed, in Sylla first, and after in Cæsar: so as these predictions
are now impertinent, and to be referred over. But the divination which
springeth from the internal nature of the soul is that which we now speak
of; which hath been made to be of two sorts, primitive and by influxion.
Primitive is grounded upon the supposition that the mind, when it is
withdrawn and collected into itself, and not diffused into the organs of
the body, hath some extent and latitude of prenotion; which therefore
appeareth most in sleep, in ecstasies, and near death, and more rarely in
waking apprehensions; and is induced and furthered by those abstinences
and observances which make the mind most to consist in itself. By
influxion, is grounded upon the conceit that the mind, as a mirror or
glass, should take illumination from the foreknowledge of God and
spirits: unto which the same regiment doth likewise conduce. For the
retiring of the mind within itself is the state which is most susceptible
of divine influxions; save that it is accompanied in this case with a
fervency and elevation (which the ancients noted by fury), and not with a
repose and quiet, as it is in the other.

(3) Fascination is the power and act of imagination intensive upon other
bodies than the body of the imaginant, for of that we spake in the proper
place. Wherein the school of Paracelsus, and the disciples of pretended
natural magic, have been so intemperate, as they have exalted the power
of the imagination to be much one with the power of miracle-working
faith. Others, that draw nearer to probability, calling to their view
the secret passages of things, and specially of the contagion that
passeth from body to body, do conceive it should likewise be agreeable to
nature that there should be some transmissions and operations from spirit
to spirit without the mediation of the senses; whence the conceits have
grown (now almost made civil) of the mastering spirit, and the force of
confidence, and the like. Incident unto this is the inquiry how to raise
and fortify the imagination; for if the imagination fortified have power,
then it is material to know how to fortify and exalt it. And herein
comes in crookedly and dangerously a palliation of a great part of
ceremonial magic. For it may be pretended that ceremonies, characters,
and charms do work, not by any tacit or sacramental contract with evil
spirits, but serve only to strengthen the imagination of him that useth
it; as images are said by the Roman Church to fix the cogitations and
raise the devotions of them that pray before them. But for mine own
judgment, if it be admitted that imagination hath power, and that
ceremonies fortify imagination, and that they be used sincerely and
intentionally for that purpose; yet I should hold them unlawful, as
opposing to that first edict which God gave unto man, _In sudore vultus
comedes panem tuum_. For they propound those noble effects, which God
hath set forth unto man to be bought at the price of labour, to be
attained by a few easy and slothful observances. Deficiences in these
knowledges I will report none, other than the general deficience, that it
is not known how much of them is verity, and how much vanity.

XII. (1) The knowledge which respecteth the faculties of the mind of man
is of two kinds—the one respecting his understanding and reason, and the
other his will, appetite, and affection; whereof the former produceth
position or decree, the latter action or execution. It is true that the
imagination is an agent or _nuncius_ in both provinces, both the judicial
and the ministerial. For sense sendeth over to imagination before reason
have judged, and reason sendeth over to imagination before the decree can
be acted. For imagination ever precedeth voluntary motion. Saving that
this Janus of imagination hath differing faces: for the face towards
reason hath the print of truth, but the face towards action hath the
print of good; which nevertheless are faces,

“Quales decet esse sororum. ”

Neither is the imagination simply and only a messenger; but is invested
with, or at least wise usurpeth no small authority in itself, besides the
duty of the message. For it was well said by Aristotle, “That the mind
hath over the body that commandment, which the lord hath over a bondman;
but that reason hath over the imagination that commandment which a
magistrate hath over a free citizen,” who may come also to rule in his
turn. For we see that, in matters of faith and religion, we raise our
imagination above our reason, which is the cause why religion sought ever
access to the mind by similitudes, types, parables, visions, dreams. And
again, in all persuasions that are wrought by eloquence, and other
impressions of like nature, which do paint and disguise the true
appearance of things, the chief recommendation unto reason is from the
imagination. Nevertheless, because I find not any science that doth
properly or fitly pertain to the imagination, I see no cause to alter the
former division. For as for poesy, it is rather a pleasure or play of
imagination than a work or duty thereof. And if it be a work, we speak
not now of such parts of learning as the imagination produceth, but of
such sciences as handle and consider of the imagination. No more than we
shall speak now of such knowledges as reason produceth (for that
extendeth to all philosophy), but of such knowledges as do handle and
inquire of the faculty of reason: so as poesy had his true place.
As for
the power of the imagination in nature, and the manner of fortifying the
same, we have mentioned it in the doctrine _De Anima_, whereunto most
fitly it belongeth. And lastly, for imaginative or insinuative reason,
which is the subject of rhetoric, we think it best to refer it to the
arts of reason. So therefore we content ourselves with the former
division, that human philosophy, which respecteth the faculties of the
mind of man, hath two parts, rational and moral.

(2) The part of human philosophy which is rational is of all knowledges,
to the most wits, the least delightful, and seemeth but a net of subtlety
and spinosity. For as it was truly said, that knowledge is _pabulum
animi_; so in the nature of men’s appetite to this food most men are of
the taste and stomach of the Israelites in the desert, that would fain
have returned _ad ollas carnium_, and were weary of manna; which, though
it were celestial, yet seemed less nutritive and comfortable. So
generally men taste well knowledges that are drenched in flesh and blood,
civil history, morality, policy, about the which men’s affections,
praises, fortunes do turn and are conversant. But this same _lumen
siccum_ doth parch and offend most men’s watery and soft natures. But to
speak truly of things as they are in worth, rational knowledges are the
keys of all other arts, for as Aristotle saith aptly and elegantly, “That
the hand is the instrument of instruments, and the mind is the form of
forms;” so these be truly said to be the art of arts. Neither do they
only direct, but likewise confirm and strengthen; even as the habit of
shooting doth not only enable to shoot a nearer shoot, but also to draw a
stronger bow.

(3) The arts intellectual are four in number, divided according to the
ends whereunto they are referred—for man’s labour is to invent that which
is sought or propounded; or to judge that which is invented; or to retain
that which is judged; or to deliver over that which is retained. So as
the arts must be four—art of inquiry or invention; art of examination or
judgment; art of custody or memory; and art of elocution or tradition.

XIII. (1) Invention is of two kinds much differing—the one of arts and
sciences, and the other of speech and arguments. The former of these I
do report deficient; which seemeth to me to be such a deficience as if,
in the making of an inventory touching the state of a defunct, it should
be set down that there is no ready money. For as money will fetch all
other commodities, so this knowledge is that which should purchase all
the rest. And like as the West Indies had never been discovered if the
use of the mariner’s needle had not been first discovered, though the one
be vast regions, and the other a small motion; so it cannot be found
strange if sciences be no further discovered, if the art itself of
invention and discovery hath been passed over.

(2) That this part of knowledge is wanting, to my judgment standeth
plainly confessed; for first, logic doth not pretend to invent sciences,
or the axioms of sciences, but passeth it over with a _cuique in sua arte
credendum_. And Celsus acknowledgeth it gravely, speaking of the
empirical and dogmatical sects of physicians, “That medicines and cures
were first found out, and then after the reasons and causes were
discoursed; and not the causes first found out, and by light from them
the medicines and cures discovered. ” And Plato in his “Theætetus” noteth
well, “That particulars are infinite, and the higher generalities give no
sufficient direction; and that the pith of all sciences, which maketh the
artsman differ from the inexpert, is in the middle propositions, which in
every particular knowledge are taken from tradition and experience. ” And
therefore we see, that they which discourse of the inventions and
originals of things refer them rather to chance than to art, and rather
to beasts, birds, fishes, serpents, than to men.

“Dictamnum genetrix Cretæa carpit ab Ida,
Puberibus caulem foliis et flore camantem
Purpureo; non illa feris incognita capris
Gramina, cum tergo volucres hæsere sagittæ. ”

So that it was no marvel (the manner of antiquity being to consecrate
inventors) that the Egyptians had so few human idols in their temples,
but almost all brute:

“Omnigenumque Deum monstra, et latrator Anubis,
Contra Neptunum, et Venerem, contraque Minervam, &c. ”

And if you like better the tradition of the Grecians, and ascribe the
first inventions to men, yet you will rather believe that Prometheus
first stroke the flints, and marvelled at the spark, than that when he
first stroke the flints he expected the spark; and therefore we see the
West Indian Prometheus had no intelligence with the European, because of
the rareness with them of flint, that gave the first occasion. So as it
should seem, that hitherto men are rather beholden to a wild goat for
surgery, or to a nightingale for music, or to the ibis for some part of
physic, or to the pot-lid that flew open for artillery, or generally to
chance or anything else than to logic for the invention of arts and
sciences. Neither is the form of invention which Virgil describeth much
other:

“Ut varias usus meditande extunderet artes
Paulatim. ”

For if you observe the words well, it is no other method than that which
brute beasts are capable of, and do put in ure; which is a perpetual
intending or practising some one thing, urged and imposed by an absolute
necessity of conservation of being. For so Cicero saith very truly,
_Usus uni rei deditus et naturam et artem sæpe vincit_. And therefore if
it be said of men,

“Labor omnia vincit
Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas,”

it is likewise said of beasts, _Quis psittaco docuit suum χαιρε_? Who
taught the raven in a drought to throw pebbles into a hollow tree, where
she spied water, that the water might rise so as she might come to it?
Who taught the bee to sail through such a vast sea or air, and to find
the way from a field in a flower a great way off to her hive? Who taught
the ant to bite every grain of corn that she burieth in her hill, lest it
should take root and grow? Add then the word _extundere_, which
importeth the extreme difficulty, and the word _paulatim_, which
importeth the extreme slowness, and we are where we were, even amongst
the Egyptians’ gods; there being little left to the faculty of reason,
and nothing to the duty or art, for matter of invention.

(3) Secondly, the induction which the logicians speak of, and which
seemeth familiar with Plato, whereby the principles of sciences may be
pretended to be invented, and so the middle propositions by derivation
from the principles; their form of induction, I say, is utterly vicious
and incompetent; wherein their error is the fouler, because it is the
duty of art to perfect and exalt nature; but they contrariwise have
wronged, abused, and traduced nature. For he that shall attentively
observe how the mind doth gather this excellent dew of knowledge, like
unto that which the poet speaketh of, _Aërei mellis cælestia dona_,
distilling and contriving it out of particulars natural and artificial,
as the flowers of the field and garden, shall find that the mind of
herself by nature doth manage and act an induction much better than they
describe it. For to conclude upon an enumeration of particulars, without
instance contradictory, is no conclusion, but a conjecture; for who can
assure (in many subjects) upon those particulars which appear of a side,
that there are not other on the contrary side which appear not? As if
Samuel should have rested upon those sons of Jesse which were brought
before him, and failed of David which was in the field. And this form
(to say truth), is so gross, as it had not been possible for wits so
subtle as have managed these things to have offered it to the world, but
that they hasted to their theories and dogmaticals, and were imperious
and scornful toward particulars; which their manner was to use but as
_lictores_ and _viatores_, for sergeants and whifflers, _ad summovendam
turbam_, to make way and make room for their opinions, rather than in
their true use and service. Certainly it is a thing may touch a man with
a religious wonder, to see how the footsteps of seducement are the very
same in divine and human truth; for, as in divine truth man cannot endure
to become as a child, so in human, they reputed the attending the
inductions (whereof we speak), as if it were a second infancy or
childhood.

(4) Thirdly, allow some principles or axioms were rightly induced, yet,
nevertheless, certain it is that middle propositions cannot be deduced
from them in subject of nature by syllogism—that is, by touch and
reduction of them to principles in a middle term. It is true that in
sciences popular, as moralities, laws, and the like, yea, and divinity
(because it pleaseth God to apply Himself to the capacity of the
simplest), that form may have use; and in natural philosophy likewise, by
way of argument or satisfactory reason, _Quæ assensum parit operis effæta
est_; but the subtlety of nature and operations will not be enchained in
those bonds. For arguments consist of propositions, and propositions of
words, and words are but the current tokens or marks of popular notions
of things; which notions, if they be grossly and variably collected out
of particulars, it is not the laborious examination either of
consequences of arguments, or of the truth of propositions, that can ever
correct that error, being (as the physicians speak) in the first
digestion. And, therefore, it was not without cause, that so many
excellent philosophers became sceptics and academics, and denied any
certainty of knowledge or comprehension; and held opinion that the
knowledge of man extended only to appearances and probabilities. It is
true that in Socrates it was supposed to be but a form of irony,
_Scientiam dissimulando simulavit_; for he used to disable his knowledge,
to the end to enhance his knowledge; like the humour of Tiberius in his
beginnings, that would reign, but would not acknowledge so much. And in
the later academy, which Cicero embraced, this opinion also of
_acatalepsia_ (I doubt) was not held sincerely; for that all those which
excelled in copy of speech seem to have chosen that sect, as that which
was fittest to give glory to their eloquence and variable discourses;
being rather like progresses of pleasure than journeys to an end. But
assuredly many scattered in both academies did hold it in subtlety and
integrity. But here was their chief error: they charged the deceit upon
the senses; which in my judgment (notwithstanding all their cavillations)
are very sufficient to certify and report truth, though not always
immediately, yet by comparison, by help of instrument, and by producing
and urging such things as are too subtle for the sense to some effect
comprehensible by the sense, and other like assistance. But they ought
to have charged the deceit upon the weakness of the intellectual powers,
and upon the manner of collecting and concluding upon the reports of the
senses. This I speak, not to disable the mind of man, but to stir it up
to seek help; for no man, be he never so cunning or practised, can make a
straight line or perfect circle by steadiness of hand, which may be
easily done by help of a ruler or compass.

(5) This part of invention, concerning the invention of sciences, I
purpose (if God give me leave) hereafter to propound, having digested it
into two parts: whereof the one I term _experientia literata_, and the
other _interpretatio naturæ_; the former being but a degree and rudiment
of the latter. But I will not dwell too long, nor speak too great upon a
promise.

(6) The invention of speech or argument is not properly an invention; for
to invent is to discover that we know not, and not to recover or resummon
that which we already know; and the use of this invention is no other
but, out of the knowledge whereof our mind is already possessed to draw
forth or call before us that which may be pertinent to the purpose which
we take into our consideration. So as to speak truly, it is no
invention, but a remembrance or suggestion, with an application; which is
the cause why the schools do place it after judgment, as subsequent and
not precedent. Nevertheless, because we do account it a chase as well of
deer in an enclosed park as in a forest at large, and that it hath
already obtained the name, let it be called invention; so as it be
perceived and discerned, that the scope and end of this invention is
readiness and present use of our knowledge, and not addition or
amplification thereof.

(7) To procure this ready use of knowledge there are two courses,
preparation and suggestion. The former of these seemeth scarcely a part
of knowledge, consisting rather of diligence than of any artificial
erudition. And herein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully, doth deride the
sophists near his time, saying, “They did as if one that professed the
art of shoemaking should not teach how to make up a shoe, but only
exhibit in a readiness a number of shoes of all fashions and sizes. ” But
yet a man might reply, that if a shoemaker should have no shoes in his
shop, but only work as he is bespoken, he should be weakly customed. But
our Saviour, speaking of divine knowledge, saith, “That the kingdom of
heaven is like a good householder, that bringeth forth both new and old
store;” and we see the ancient writers of rhetoric do give it in precept,
that pleaders should have the places, whereof they have most continual
use, ready handled in all the variety that may be; as that, to speak for
the literal interpretation of the law against equity, and contrary; and
to speak for presumptions and inferences against testimony, and contrary.
And Cicero himself, being broken unto it by great experience, delivereth
it plainly, that whatsoever a man shall have occasion to speak of (if he
will take the pains), he may have it in effect premeditate and handled
_in thesi_. So that when he cometh to a particular he shall have nothing
to do, but to put to names, and times, and places, and such other
circumstances of individuals. We see likewise the exact diligence of
Demosthenes; who, in regard of the great force that the entrance and
access into causes hath to make a good impression, had ready framed a
number of prefaces for orations and speeches. All which authorities and
precedents may overweigh Aristotle’s opinion, that would have us change a
rich wardrobe for a pair of shears.

(8) But the nature of the collection of this provision or preparatory
store, though it be common both to logic and rhetoric, yet having made an
entry of it here, where it came first to be spoken of, I think fit to
refer over the further handling of it to rhetoric.

(9) The other part of invention, which I term suggestion, doth assign and
direct us to certain marks, or places, which may excite our mind to
return and produce such knowledge as it hath formerly collected, to the
end we may make use thereof. Neither is this use (truly taken) only to
furnish argument to dispute, probably with others, but likewise to
minister unto our judgment to conclude aright within ourselves. Neither
may these places serve only to apprompt our invention, but also to direct
our inquiry. For a faculty of wise interrogating is half a knowledge.
For as Plato saith, “Whosoever seeketh, knoweth that which he seeketh for
in a general notion; else how shall he know it when he hath found it? ”
And, therefore, the larger your anticipation is, the more direct and
compendious is your search. But the same places which will help us what
to produce of that which we know already, will also help us, if a man of
experience were before us, what questions to ask; or, if we have books
and authors to instruct us, what points to search and revolve; so as I
cannot report that this part of invention, which is that which the
schools call topics, is deficient.

(10) Nevertheless, topics are of two sorts, general and special. The
general we have spoken to; but the particular hath been touched by some,
but rejected generally as inartificial and variable. But leaving the
humour which hath reigned too much in the schools (which is, to be vainly
subtle in a few things which are within their command, and to reject the
rest), I do receive particular topics; that is, places or directions of
invention and inquiry in every particular knowledge, as things of great
use, being mixtures of logic with the matter of sciences. For in these
it holdeth _ars inveniendi adolescit cum inventis_; for as in going of a
way, we do not only gain that part of the way which is passed, but we
gain the better sight of that part of the way which remaineth, so every
degree of proceeding in a science giveth a light to that which followeth;
which light, if we strengthen by drawing it forth into questions or
places of inquiry, we do greatly advance our pursuit.

XIV. (1) Now we pass unto the arts of judgment, which handle the natures
of proofs and demonstrations, which as to induction hath a coincidence
with invention; for all inductions, whether in good or vicious form, the
same action of the mind which inventeth, judgeth—all one as in the sense.
But otherwise it is in proof by syllogism, for the proof being not
immediate, but by mean, the invention of the mean is one thing, and the
judgment of the consequence is another; the one exciting only, the other
examining. Therefore, for the real and exact form of judgment, we refer
ourselves to that which we have spoken of interpretation of Nature.

(2) For the other judgment by syllogism, as it is a thing most agreeable
to the mind of man, so it hath been vehemently end excellently laboured.
For the nature of man doth extremely covet to have somewhat in his
understanding fixed and unmovable, and as a rest and support of the mind.
And, therefore, as Aristotle endeavoureth to prove, that in all motion
there is some point quiescent; and as he elegantly expoundeth the ancient
fable of Atlas (that stood fixed, and bare up the heaven from falling) to
be meant of the poles or axle-tree of heaven, whereupon the conversion is
accomplished, so assuredly men have a desire to have an Atlas or
axle-tree within to keep them from fluctuation, which is like to a
perpetual peril of falling. Therefore men did hasten to set down some
principles about which the variety of their disputatious might turn.

(3) So, then, this art of judgment is but the reduction of propositions
to principles in a middle term. The principles to be agreed by all and
exempted from argument; the middle term to be elected at the liberty of
every man’s invention; the reduction to be of two kinds, direct and
inverted: the one when the proposition is reduced to the principle, which
they term a probation ostensive; the other, when the contradictory of the
proposition is reduced to the contradictory of the principle, which is
that which they call _per incommodum_, or pressing an absurdity; the
number of middle terms to be as the proposition standeth degrees more or
less removed from the principle.

(4) But this art hath two several methods of doctrine, the one by way of
direction, the other by way of caution: the former frameth and setteth
down a true form of consequence, by the variations and deflections from
which errors and inconsequences may be exactly judged. Toward the
composition and structure of which form it is incident to handle the
parts thereof, which are propositions, and the parts of propositions,
which are simple words. And this is that part of logic which is
comprehended in the Analytics.

(5) The second method of doctrine was introduced for expedite use and
assurance sake, discovering the more subtle forms of sophisms and
illaqueations with their redargutions, which is that which is termed
_elenches_. For although in the more gross sorts of fallacies it
happeneth (as Seneca maketh the comparison well) as in juggling feats,
which, though we know not how they are done, yet we know well it is not
as it seemeth to be; yet the more subtle sort of them doth not only put a
man besides his answer, but doth many times abuse his judgment.

(6) This part concerning _elenches_ is excellently handled by Aristotle
in precept, but more excellently by Plato in example; not only in the
persons of the sophists, but even in Socrates himself, who, professing to
affirm nothing, but to infirm that which was affirmed by another, hath
exactly expressed all the forms of objection, fallace, and redargution.
And although we have said that the use of this doctrine is for
redargution, yet it is manifest the degenerate and corrupt use is for
caption and contradiction, which passeth for a great faculty, and no
doubt is of very great advantage, though the difference be good which was
made between orators and sophisters, that the one is as the greyhound,
which hath his advantage in the race, and the other as the hare, which
hath her advantage in the turn, so as it is the advantage of the weaker
creature.

(7) But yet further, this doctrine of elenches hath a more ample latitude
and extent than is perceived; namely, unto divers parts of knowledge,
whereof some are laboured and other omitted. For first, I conceive
(though it may seem at first somewhat strange) that that part which is
variably referred, sometimes to logic, sometimes to metaphysic, touching
the common adjuncts of essences, is but an _elenche_; for the great
sophism of all sophisms being equivocation or ambiguity of words and
phrase, specially of such words as are most general and intervene in
every inquiry, it seemeth to me that the true and fruitful use (leaving
vain subtleties and speculations) of the inquiry of majority, minority,
priority, posteriority, identity, diversity, possibility, act, totality,
parts, existence, privation, and the like, are but wise cautions against
ambiguities of speech. So, again, the distribution of things into
certain tribes, which we call categories or predicaments, are but
cautions against the confusion of definitions and divisions.

(8) Secondly, there is a seducement that worketh by the strength of the
impression, and not by the subtlety of the illaqueation—not so much
perplexing the reason, as overruling it by power of the imagination. But
this part I think more proper to handle when I shall speak of rhetoric.

(9) But lastly, there is yet a much more important and profound kind of
fallacies in the mind of man, which I find not observed or inquired at
all, and think good to place here, as that which of all others
appertaineth most to rectify judgment, the force whereof is such as it
doth not dazzle or snare the understanding in some particulars, but doth
more generally and inwardly infect and corrupt the state thereof. For
the mind of man is far from the nature of a clear and equal glass,
wherein the beams of things should reflect according to their true
incidence; nay, it is rather like an enchanted glass, full of
superstition and imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced. For this
purpose, let us consider the false appearances that are imposed upon us
by the general nature of the mind, beholding them in an example or two;
as first, in that instance which is the root of all superstition, namely,
that to the nature of the mind of all men it is consonant for the
affirmative or active to affect more than the negative or privative. So
that a few times hitting or presence countervails ofttimes failing or
absence, as was well answered by Diagoras to him that showed him in
Neptune’s temple the great number of pictures of such as had escaped
shipwreck, and had paid their vows to Neptune, saying, “Advise now, you
that think it folly to invocate Neptune in tempest. ” “Yea, but,” saith
Diagoras, “where are they painted that are drowned? ” Let us behold it in
another instance, namely, that the spirit of man, being of an equal and
uniform substance, doth usually suppose and feign in nature a greater
equality and uniformity than is in truth. Hence it cometh that the
mathematicians cannot satisfy themselves except they reduce the motions
of the celestial bodies to perfect circles, rejecting spiral lines, and
labouring to be discharged of eccentrics. Hence it cometh that whereas
there are many things in Nature as it were _monodica_, _sui juris_, yet
the cogitations of man do feign unto them relatives, parallels, and
conjugates, whereas no such thing is; as they have feigned an element of
fire to keep square with earth, water, and air, and the like. Nay, it is
not credible, till it be opened, what a number of fictions and fantasies
the similitude of human actions and arts, together with the making of man
_communis mensura_, have brought into natural philosophy; not much better
than the heresy of the Anthropomorphites, bred in the cells of gross and
solitary monks, and the opinion of Epicurus, answerable to the same in
heathenism, who supposed the gods to be of human shape. And, therefore,
Velleius the Epicurean needed not to have asked why God should have
adorned the heavens with stars, as if He had been an _ædilis_, one that
should have set forth some magnificent shows or plays. For if that great
Work-master had been of a human disposition, He would have cast the stars
into some pleasant and beautiful works and orders like the frets in the
roofs of houses; whereas one can scarce find a posture in square, or
triangle, or straight line, amongst such an infinite number, so differing
a harmony there is between the spirit of man and the spirit of Nature.

(10) Let us consider again the false appearances imposed upon us by every
man’s own individual nature and custom in that feigned supposition that
Plato maketh of the cave; for certainly if a child were continued in a
grot or cave under the earth until maturity of age, and came suddenly
abroad, he would have strange and absurd imaginations. So, in like
manner, although our persons live in the view of heaven, yet our spirits
are included in the caves of our own complexions and customs, which
minister unto us infinite errors and vain opinions if they be not
recalled to examination. But hereof we have given many examples in one
of the errors, or peccant humours, which we ran briefly over in our first
book.

(11) And lastly, let us consider the false appearances that are imposed
upon us by words, which are framed and applied according to the conceit
and capacities of the vulgar sort; and although we think we govern our
words, and prescribe it well _loquendum ut vulgus sentiendum ut
sapientes_, yet certain it is that words, as a Tartar’s bow, do shoot
back upon the understanding of the wisest, and mightily entangle and
pervert the judgment. So as it is almost necessary in all controversies
and disputations to imitate the wisdom of the mathematicians, in setting
down in the very beginning the definitions of our words and terms, that
others may know how we accept and understand them, and whether they
concur with us or no. For it cometh to pass, for want of this, that we
are sure to end there where we ought to have begun, which is, in
questions and differences about words. To conclude, therefore, it must
be confessed that it is not possible to divorce ourselves from these
fallacies and false appearances because they are inseparable from our
nature and condition of life; so yet, nevertheless, the caution of them
(for all elenches, as was said, are but cautions) doth extremely import
the true conduct of human judgment. The particular elenches or cautions
against these three false appearances I find altogether deficient.

(12) There remaineth one part of judgment of great excellency which to
mine understanding is so slightly touched, as I may report that also
deficient; which is the application of the differing kinds of proofs to
the differing kinds of subjects. For there being but four kinds of
demonstrations, that is, by the immediate consent of the mind or sense,
by induction, by syllogism, and by congruity, which is that which
Aristotle calleth demonstration in orb or circle, and not _a notioribus_,
every of these hath certain subjects in the matter of sciences, in which
respectively they have chiefest use; and certain others, from which
respectively they ought to be excluded; and the rigour and curiosity in
requiring the more severe proofs in some things, and chiefly the facility
in contenting ourselves with the more remiss proofs in others, hath been
amongst the greatest causes of detriment and hindrance to knowledge. The
distributions and assignations of demonstrations according to the analogy
of sciences I note as deficient.

XV. (1) The custody or retaining of knowledge is either in writing or
memory; whereof writing hath two parts, the nature of the character and
the order of the entry. For the art of characters, or other visible
notes of words or things, it hath nearest conjugation with grammar, and,
therefore, I refer it to the due place; for the disposition and
collocation of that knowledge which we preserve in writing, it consisteth
in a good digest of common-places, wherein I am not ignorant of the
prejudice imputed to the use of common-place books, as causing a
retardation of reading, and some sloth or relaxation of memory. But
because it is but a counterfeit thing in knowledges to be forward and
pregnant, except a man be deep and full, I hold the entry of
common-places to be a matter of great use and essence in studying, as
that which assureth copy of invention, and contracteth judgment to a
strength. But this is true, that of the methods of common-places that I
have seen, there is none of any sufficient worth, all of them carrying
merely the face of a school and not of a world; and referring to vulgar
matters and pedantical divisions, without all life or respect to action.

(2) For the other principal part of the custody of knowledge, which is
memory, I find that faculty in my judgment weakly inquired of. An art
there is extant of it; but it seemeth to me that there are better
precepts than that art, and better practices of that art than those
received. It is certain the art (as it is) may be raised to points of
ostentation prodigious; but in use (as is now managed) it is barren, not
burdensome, nor dangerous to natural memory, as is imagined, but barren,
that is, not dexterous to be applied to the serious use of business and
occasions. And, therefore, I make no more estimation of repeating a
great number of names or words upon once hearing, or the pouring forth of
a number of verses or rhymes _extempore_, or the making of a satirical
simile of everything, or the turning of everything to a jest, or the
falsifying or contradicting of everything by cavil, or the like (whereof
in the faculties of the mind there is great copy, and such as by device
and practice may be exalted to an extreme degree of wonder), than I do of
the tricks of tumblers, funambuloes, baladines; the one being the same in
the mind that the other is in the body, matters of strangeness without
worthiness.

(3) This art of memory is but built upon two intentions; the one
prenotion, the other emblem. Prenotion dischargeth the indefinite
seeking of that we would remember, and directeth us to seek in a narrow
compass, that is, somewhat that hath congruity with our place of memory.
Emblem reduceth conceits intellectual to images sensible, which strike
the memory more; out of which axioms may be drawn much better practice
than that in use; and besides which axioms, there are divers more
touching help of memory not inferior to them. But I did in the beginning
distinguish, not to report those things deficient, which are but only ill
managed.

XVI. (1) There remaineth the fourth kind of rational knowledge, which is
transitive, concerning the expressing or transferring our knowledge to
others, which I will term by the general name of tradition or delivery.
Tradition hath three parts: the first concerning the organ of tradition;
the second concerning the method of tradition; and the third concerning
the illustration of tradition.

(2) For the organ of tradition, it is either speech or writing; for
Aristotle saith well, “Words are the images of cogitations, and letters
are the images of words. ” But yet it is not of necessity that
cogitations be expressed by the medium of words. For whatsoever is
capable of sufficient differences, and those perceptible by the sense, is
in nature competent to express cogitations. And, therefore, we see in
the commerce of barbarous people that understand not one another’s
language, and in the practice of divers that are dumb and deaf, that
men’s minds are expressed in gestures, though not exactly, yet to serve
the turn. And we understand further, that it is the use of China and the
kingdoms of the High Levant to write in characters real, which express
neither letters nor words in gross, but things or notions; insomuch as
countries and provinces which understand not one another’s language can
nevertheless read one another’s writings, because the characters are
accepted more generally than the languages do extend; and, therefore,
they have a vast multitude of characters, as many, I suppose, as radical
words.

(3) These notes of cogitations are of two sorts: the one when the note
hath some similitude or congruity with the notion; the other _ad
placitum_, having force only by contract or acceptation. Of the former
sort are hieroglyphics and gestures. For as to hieroglyphics (things of
ancient use and embraced chiefly by the Egyptians, one of the most
ancient nations), they are but as continued impresses and emblems. And
as for gestures, they are as transitory hieroglyphics, and are to
hieroglyphics as words spoken are to words written, in that they abide
not; but they have evermore, as well as the other, an affinity with the
things signified. As Periander, being consulted with how to preserve a
tyranny newly usurped, bid the messenger attend and report what he saw
him do; and went into his garden and topped all the highest flowers,
signifying that it consisted in the cutting off and keeping low of the
nobility and grandees. _Ad placitum_, are the characters real before
mentioned, and words: although some have been willing by curious inquiry,
or rather by apt feigning, to have derived imposition of names from
reason and intendment; a speculation elegant, and, by reason it searcheth
into antiquity, reverent, but sparingly mixed with truth, and of small
fruit. This portion of knowledge touching the notes of things and
cogitations in general, I find not inquired, but deficient. And although
it may seem of no great use, considering that words and writings by
letters do far excel all the other ways; yet because this part
concerneth, as it were, the mint of knowledge (for words are the tokens
current and accepted for conceits, as moneys are for values, and that it
is fit men be not ignorant that moneys may be of another kind than gold
and silver), I thought good to propound it to better inquiry.

(4) Concerning speech and words, the consideration of them hath produced
the science of grammar. For man still striveth to reintegrate himself in
those benedictions, from which by his fault he hath been deprived; and as
he hath striven against the first general curse by the invention of all
other arts, so hath he sought to come forth of the second general curse
(which was the confusion of tongues) by the art of grammar; whereof the
use in a mother tongue is small, in a foreign tongue more; but most in
such foreign tongues as have ceased to be vulgar tongues, and are turned
only to learned tongues. The duty of it is of two natures: the one
popular, which is for the speedy and perfect attaining languages, as well
for intercourse of speech as for understanding of authors; the other
philosophical, examining the power and nature of words, as they are the
footsteps and prints of reason: which kind of analogy between words and
reason is handled _sparsim_, brokenly though not entirely; and,
therefore, I cannot report it deficient, though I think it very worthy to
be reduced into a science by itself.

(5) Unto grammar also belongeth, as an appendix, the consideration of the
accidents of words; which are measure, sound, and elevation or accent,
and the sweetness and harshness of them: whence hath issued some curious
observations in rhetoric, but chiefly poesy, as we consider it, in
respect of the verse and not of the argument. Wherein though men in
learned tongues do tie themselves to the ancient measures, yet in modern
languages it seemeth to me as free to make new measures of verses as of
dances; for a dance is a measured pace, as a verse is a measured speech.
In these things this sense is better judge than the art:

“Cœnæ fercula nostræ
Mallem convivis quam placuisse cocis. ”

And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike and an unfit
subject, it is well said, “_Quod tempore antiquum videtur_, _id
incongruitate est maxime novum_. ”

(6) For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or alphabets, but may be in
words. The kinds of ciphers (besides the simple ciphers, with changes,
and intermixtures of nulls and non-significants) are many, according to
the nature or rule of the infolding, wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, doubles,
&c. But the virtues of them, whereby they are to be preferred, are
three; that they be not laborious to write and read; that they be
impossible to decipher; and, in some cases, that they be without
suspicion. The highest degree whereof is to write _omnia per omnia_;
which is undoubtedly possible, with a proportion quintuple at most of the
writing infolding to the writing infolded, and no other restraint
whatsoever. This art of ciphering hath for relative an art of
deciphering, by supposition unprofitable, but, as things are, of great
use. For suppose that ciphers were well managed, there be multitudes of
them which exclude the decipherer. But in regard of the rawness and
unskilfulness of the hands through which they pass, the greatest matters
are many times carried in the weakest ciphers.

(7) In the enumeration of these private and retired arts it may be
thought I seek to make a great muster-roll of sciences, naming them for
show and ostentation, and to little other purpose. But let those, which
are skilful in them, judge whether I bring them in only for appearance,
or whether in that which I speak of them (though in few words) there be
not some seed of proficience. And this must be remembered, that as there
be many of great account in their countries and provinces, which, when
they come up to the seat of the estate, are but of mean rank and scarcely
regarded; so these arts, being here placed with the principal and supreme
sciences, seem petty things: yet to such as have chosen them to spend
their labours and studies in them, they seem great matters.

XVII. (1) For the method of tradition, I see it hath moved a controversy
in our time. But as in civil business, if there be a meeting, and men
fall at words, there is commonly an end of the matter for that time, and
no proceeding at all; so in learning, where there is much controversy,
there is many times little inquiry. For this part of knowledge of method
seemeth to me so weakly inquired as I shall report it deficient.

(2) Method hath been placed, and that not amiss, in logic, as a part of
judgment. For as the doctrine of syllogisms comprehendeth the rules of
judgment upon that which is invented, so the doctrine of method
containeth the rules of judgment upon that which is to be delivered; for
judgment precedeth delivery, as it followeth invention. Neither is the
method or the nature of the tradition material only to the use of
knowledge, but likewise to the progression of knowledge: for since the
labour and life of one man cannot attain to perfection of knowledge, the
wisdom of the tradition is that which inspireth the felicity of
continuance and proceeding. And therefore the most real diversity of
method is of method referred to use, and method referred to progression:
whereof the one may be termed magistral, and the other of probation.

(3) The latter whereof seemeth to be _via deserta et interclusa_. For as
knowledges are now delivered, there is a kind of contract of error
between the deliverer and the receiver. For he that delivereth knowledge
desireth to deliver it in such form as may be best believed, and not as
may be best examined; and he that receiveth knowledge desireth rather
present satisfaction than expectant inquiry; and so rather not to doubt,
than not to err: glory making the author not to lay open his weakness,
and sloth making the disciple not to know his strength.

(4) But knowledge that is delivered as a thread to be spun on ought to be
delivered and intimated, if it were possible, in the same method wherein
it was invented: and so is it possible of knowledge induced. But in this
same anticipated and prevented knowledge, no man knoweth how he came to
the knowledge which he hath obtained. But yet, nevertheless, _secundum
majus et minus_, a man may revisit and descend unto the foundations of
his knowledge and consent; and so transplant it into another, as it grew
in his own mind. For it is in knowledges as it is in plants: if you mean
to use the plant, it is no matter for the roots—but if you mean to remove
it to grow, then it is more assured to rest upon roots than slips: so the
delivery of knowledges (as it is now used) is as of fair bodies of trees
without the roots; good for the carpenter, but not for the planter. But
if you will have sciences grow, it is less matter for the shaft or body
of the tree, so you look well to the taking up of the roots. Of which
kind of delivery the method of the mathematics, in that subject, hath
some shadow: but generally I see it neither put in use nor put in
inquisition, and therefore note it for deficient.

(5) Another diversity of method there is, which hath some affinity with
the former, used in some cases by the discretion of the ancients, but
disgraced since by the impostures of many vain persons, who have made it
as a false light for their counterfeit merchandises; and that is
enigmatical and disclosed. The pretence whereof is, to remove the vulgar
capacities from being admitted to the secrets of knowledges, and to
reserve them to selected auditors, or wits of such sharpness as can
pierce the veil.

(6) Another diversity of method, whereof the consequence is great, is the
delivery of knowledge in aphorisms, or in methods; wherein we may observe
that it hath been too much taken into custom, out of a few axioms or
observations upon any subject, to make a solemn and formal art, filling
it with some discourses, and illustrating it with examples, and digesting
it into a sensible method. But the writing in aphorisms hath many
excellent virtues, whereto the writing in method doth not approach.

(7) For first, it trieth the writer, whether he be superficial or solid:
for aphorisms, except they should be ridiculous, cannot be made but of
the pith and heart of sciences; for discourse of illustration is cut off;
recitals of examples are cut off; discourse of connection and order is
cut off; descriptions of practice are cut off. So there remaineth
nothing to fill the aphorisms but some good quantity of observation; and
therefore no man can suffice, nor in reason will attempt, to write
aphorisms, but he that is sound and grounded. But in methods,

“Tantum series juncturaque pollet,
Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris,”

as a man shall make a great show of an art, which, if it were disjointed,
would come to little. Secondly, methods are more fit to win consent or
belief, but less fit to point to action; for they carry a kind of
demonstration in orb or circle, one part illuminating another, and
therefore satisfy. But particulars being dispersed do best agree with
dispersed directions. And lastly, aphorisms, representing a knowledge
broken, do invite men to inquire further; whereas methods, carrying the
show of a total, do secure men, as if they were at furthest.

(8) Another diversity of method, which is likewise of great weight, is
the handling of knowledge by assertions and their proofs, or by questions
and their determinations. The latter kind whereof, if it be immoderately
followed, is as prejudicial to the proceeding of learning as it is to the
proceeding of an army to go about to besiege every little fort or hold.
For if the field be kept, and the sum of the enterprise pursued, those
smaller things will come in of themselves: indeed a man would not leave
some important piece enemy at his back. In like manner, the use of
confutation in the delivery of sciences ought to be very sparing; and to
serve to remove strong preoccupations and prejudgments, and not to
minister and excite disputatious and doubts.

(9) Another diversity of method is, according to the subject or matter
which is handled. For there is a great difference in delivery of the
mathematics, which are the most abstracted of knowledges, and policy,
which is the most immersed. And howsoever contention hath been moved,
touching a uniformity of method in multiformity of matter, yet we see how
that opinion, besides the weakness of it, hath been of ill desert towards
learning, as that which taketh the way to reduce learning to certain
empty and barren generalities; being but the very husks and shells of
sciences, all the kernel being forced out and expulsed with the torture
and press of the method. And, therefore, as I did allow well of
particular topics for invention, so I do allow likewise of particular
methods of tradition.

(10) Another diversity of judgment in the delivery and teaching of
knowledge is, according unto the light and presuppositions of that which
is delivered. For that knowledge which is new, and foreign from opinions
received, is to be delivered in another form than that that is agreeable
and familiar; and therefore Aristotle, when he thinks to tax Democritus,
doth in truth commend him, where he saith “If we shall indeed dispute,
and not follow after similitudes,” &c.