৯ pations and observations, and so vanished. That like Atalanta's golden ball that hindereth and in if any have had the strength of mind generally to terrupteth the course; and is to be inhibited till you have ascended to a certain stage and degree of generalities; which forbearance will be liberally recompensed in the end; and that chance discovereth new inventions by one and one, but science by knots and clusters. That they have not collected sufficient quantity of particulars, nor them in sufficient certainty and subtilty, nor of all several kinds, nor with those advantages and discretions in the entry and sorting which are requisite; and of the weak manner of collecting natural history, which hath been used. Lastly, that they had no knowledge of the formulary of interpretation, the work whereof is to abridge experience, and to make things as certainly found out by axiom in short time, as by infinite experiences in ages. CHAPTER XVIII. THAT the cautels and devices put in practice in the delivery of knowledge for the covering and palliating of ignorance, and the gracing and overvaluing of that they utter, are without number, but none more bold and more hurtful than two: the one, that men have used of a few observations upon any subject to make a solemn and formal art; by filling it up with discourse, accommodating it with some circumstances and directions to practice, and digesting it into method, whereby men grow satisfied and secure, as if no more inquiry were to be made of that matter; the other, that men have used to discharge ignorance with credit, in defining all those effects which they cannot attain unto, to be out of the compass of art and human endeavour. That the very styles and forms of utterance are so many characters of imposture, some choosing a style of pugnacity and contention, some of satire and reprehension, some of plausible and tempting similitudes and examples, some of great words and high discourse, some of short and dark sentences, some of exactness of method, all of positive affirmation; without disclosing the true motives and proofs of their opinions, or free confessing their ignorance or doubts, except it be now and then for a grace, and in cunning to win the more credit in the rest, and not in good faith. That although men be free from these errors and incumbrances in the will and affection, yet it is not a thing so easy as is conceived to convey the conceit of one man's mind into the mind of another, without loss or mistaking, especially in notions new and differing from those that are received. That never any knowledge was delivered in the same order it was invented, no not in the mathematics, though it should seem otherwise in regard that the propositions placed last do use the propositions or grants placed first for their proof and demonstration. That there are forms and methods of tradition wholly distinct and differing, according to their | with spirits and higher natures. That of those ends whereto they are directed. That there are that have entered into search, some having fallen two ends of tradition of knowledge, the one to teach and instruct for use and practice, the other to impart or intimate for re-examination and progression. That the former of these ends requireth a method not the same whereby it was invented and induced, but such as is most compendious and ready, whereby it may be used and applied. That the latter of the ends, which is where a knowledge is delivered to be continued and spun on by a succession of labours, requireth a method whereby it may be transposed to another in the same manner as it was collected, to the end it may be discerned both where the work is weak, and where it breaketh off. That this latter method is not only unfit for the former end, but also impossible for all knowledge gathered and insinuated by anticipations, because the mind working inwardly of itself, no man can give a just account how he came to that knowledge which he hath received, and that therefore this method is peculiar for knowledge gathered by interpretation. That the discretion anciently observed, though by the precedent of many vain persons and deceivers disgraced, of publishing part and reserving part to a private succession, and of publishing in a manner whereby it shall not be to the capacity nor taste of all, but shall as it were single and adopt his reader, is not to be laid aside, both for the avoiding of abuse in the excluded, and the strengthening of affection in the admitted. That there are other virtues of tradition, as that there be no occasion given to error, and that it carry a vigour to root and spread against the vanity of wits and injuries of time; all which, if they were ever due to any knowledge delivered, or if they were never due to any human knowledge heretofore delivered, yet are now due to the knowledge propounded. CHAPTER XIX. upon some conceits, which they after consider to be the same which they have found in former authors, have suddenly taken a persuasion that a man shall but with much labour incur and light upon the same inventions which he might with ease receive from others, and that it is but a vanity and self-pleasing of the wit to go about again, as one that would rather have a flower of his own gathering, than much better gathered to his hand. That the same humour of sloth and diffidence suggesteth, that a man shall but revive some ancient opinion, which was long ago propounded, examined, and rejected. And that it is easy to err in conceit, that a man's observation or notion is the same with a former opinion, both because new conceits must of necessity be uttered in old words, and because upon true and erroneous grounds men may meet in consequence or conclusion, as several lines or circles that cut in some one point. That the greatest part of those that have descended into search have chosen for the most artificial and compendious course, to induce principles out of particulars, and to reduce all other propositions unto principles: and so, instead of the nearest way, have been led to no way or a mere labyrinth. That the two contemplative ways have some resemblance with the old parable of the two moral ways, the one beginning with incertainty and difficulty, and ending in plainness and certainty; and the other beginning with show of plainness and certainty, and ending in difficulty and incertainty. Of the great and manifest error and untrue conceit or estimation of the infiniteness of particulars, whereas indeed all prolixity is in discourse and derivations; and of the infinite and most laborious expence of wit that hath been employed upon toys and matters of no fruit or value. That although the period of one age cannot advance men to the furthest point of interpretation of nature, except the work should be undertaken with greater helps than can be expected, yet it cannot fail in much less space of time to make return of many singular commodities towards the state and occasions of man's life. That there is less reason of distrust in the course of interpretation now propounded, than in any knowledge formerly delivered, because this course doth in sort equal men's wits, and leaveth no great advantage or pre-eminence to the perfect and excellent motions of the spirit. That to draw a straight line, or to make a circle perfect round by aim of hand only, there must be a great difference between an unsteady and unpractised hand, and a steady and practised; but to do it by rule or compass, it is much alike. Or the impediments which have been in the affections, the principle whereof hath been despair or diffidence, and the strong apprehension of the difficulty, obscurity, and infiniteness which belongeth to the invention of knowledge, and that men have not known their own strength; and that the supposed difficulties and vastness of the work is rather in show and muster, than in state or substance, where the true way is taken. That this diffidence hath moved and caused some never to enter into search, and others, when they have been entered, either to give over, or to seek a more compendious course than can stand with the nature of true search. That of those that have refused and prejudged inquiry, the more sober and grave sort of wits have depended upon authors and traditions, and the more vain and Or the impediments which have been in the credulous resorted to revelation and intelligence | two extreme humours of admiration of antiquity CHAPTER XXI. and love of novelty; and again, of over-servile reverence, or over-light scorn of the opinions of others. CHAPTER XXII. Or the impediments which have been in the affection of pride, specially of one kind, which is the disdain of dwelling and being conversant much in experiences and particulars, especially such as are vulgar in occurrency, and base and ignoble in use. That besides certain higher mysteries of pride, generalities seem to have a dignity and solemnity, in that they do not put men in mind of their familiar actions, in that they have less affinity with arts mechanical and illiberal, in that they are not so subject to be controlled by persons of mean observation, in that they seem to teach men that they know not, and not refer them to that they know. All which conditions directly feeding the humour of pride, parti beliefs, is adverse to knowledge: because men having liberty to inquire and discourse of theology at pleasure, it cometh to pass that all inquisition of nature endeth and limiteth itself in such metaphysical or theological discourse; whereas if men's wits be shut out of that port, it turneth them again to discover, and so to seek reason of reason more deeply. And that such was the religion of the heathen. That a religion that is jealous of the variety of learning, discourse, opinions, and sects, as misdoubting it may shake the foundations, or that cherisheth devotion upon simplicity and ignorance, as ascribing ordinary effects to the immediate working of God, is adverse to knowledge. That such is the religion of the Turk, and such hath been the abuse of Christian religion at some several times, and in some several factions. And of the singular advantage which the Christian religion hath towards the furtherance of true knowledge, in that it excludeth and interdicteth human reason, whether or discussing of the mysteries and principles of faith. culars do want. That the majesty of generalities, by interpretation or anticipation, from examining and the divine nature of the mind in taking them, if they be truly collected, and be indeed the direct reflexions of things, cannot be too much magnified. And that it is true, that interpretation is the very natural and direct intention, action, and progression of the understanding, delivered from impediments. And that all anticipation is but a deflexion or declination by accident. CHAPTER XXV. Or the impediments which have been in the state of heathen religion, and other superstitions and errors of religion. And that in the true religion there hath not, nor is any impediment, except it be by accident or intermixture of humour. That a religion which consisteth in rites and forms of adoration, and not in confessions and CHAPTER XXVI. Or the impediments which have been in the nature of society, and the policies of state. That there is no composition of estate or society, nor order or quality of persons, which have not some point of contrariety towards true knowledge. That monarchies incline wits to profit and pleasure, and commonwealths to glory and vanity That universities incline wits to sophistry and affectation; cloisters to fables and unprofitable subtilty; study at large to variety; and that it is hard to say, whether mixture of contemplations with an active life, or retiring wholly to contem plations, do disable and hinder the mind more. FILUM LABYRINTHI, SIVE FORMULA INQUISITIONIS. AD FILIOS. PARS PRIMA. 1. FRANCIS BACON thought in this manner. | misunderstanding of the words of his authors, The knowledge whereof the world is now pos- which maketh him listen after auricular traditions; sessed, especially that of nature, extendeth not to or else a failing in the true porportions and scru magnitude and certainty of works. The physician pronounceth many diseases incurable, and faileth oft in the rest. The alchemists wax old and die in hopes. The magicians perform nothing that is permanent and profitable. The me ples of practice, which maketh him renew infinitely his trials; and finding also that he lighteth upon some mean experiments and conclusions by the way, feedeth upon them, and magnifieth them to the most, and supplieth the rest in hopes. chanics take small light from natural philosophy, The magician, when he findeth something, as he and do but spin on their own little threads. conceiveth, above nature, effected, thinketh, when Chance sometimes discovereth inventions; but a breach is once made in nature, that it is all one that worketh not in years, but ages. So he saw to perform great things and small; not seeing, well, that the inventions known are very unperfect, and that new are not like to be brought to light but in great length of time; and that those which are, came not to light by philosophy. that they are but subjects of a certain kind, wherein magic and superstition hath played in all times. The mechanical person, if he can refine an invention, or put two or three observations or practices together in one, or couple things better with their use, or make the work in less or greater volume, taketh himself for an inventor. So he saw well, that men either persuade themselves of new inventions as of impossibilities, or else think 2. He thought also this state of knowledge was he worse, because men strive against themselves to save the credit of ignorance, and to satisfy themselves in this poverty. For the physician, besides the cautels of practice, hath this general cautel of art, that he dischargeth the weakness they are already extant, but in secret and in few hands; or that they account of those little indus turneth to the averting of their minds from any just and constant labour, to invent further in any quantity. of his art upon supposed impossibilities: neither can his art be condemned, when itself judgeth. tries and additions, as of inventions: all which That philosophy also, out of which the knowledge of physic which now is in use is hewed, receiveth certain positions and opinions, which, if they be well weighed, induce this persuasion, that no great works are to be expected from art, and the hand of man; as, in particular that opinion, that "the heat of the sun and fire differ in kind;" and that other, "that composition is the work of man, and mixture is the work of nature," and the like; all tending to the circumscription of man's power, and to artificial despair; killing in men not only the comfort of imagination, but the industry of trial; only upon vainglory, to have their art thought perfect, and that all is impossible that is 3. He thought also, when men did set before themselves the variety and perfection of works produced by mechanical arts, they are apt rather to admire the provisions of man, than to apprehend his wants; not considering, that the original inventions and conclusions of nature, which are the life of all that variety, are not many, nor deeply fetched; and that the rest is but the subtile and ruled motion of the instrument and hand; and that the shop therein is not unlike the library, which in such number of books containeth, for the far not already found. The alchemists dischargeth greater part, nothing but iterations, varied somehis art upon his own errors, either supposing a times in form, but not new in substance. So he 96 saw plainly, that opinion of store was a cause of want; and that both works and doctrines appear many, and are few. 4. He thought also, that knowledge is uttered to men in a form, as if every thing were finished; for it is reduced into arts and methods; which in their divisions do seem to include all that may be. And how weakly soever the parts are filled, yet they carry the show and reason of a total; and thereby the writings of some received authors go for the very art: whereas antiquity used to deliver the knowledge which the mind of man hath gathered, in observations, aphorisms, or short and dispersed sentences, or small tractates of some parts that they had diligently meditated and laboured; which did invite men, both to ponder that which was invented, and to add and supply further. But now sciences are delivered to be believed and accepted, and not to be examined and further discovered; and the succession is between master and disciple, and not between inventor and continuer or advancer: and therefore sciences stand at a stay, and have done for many ages, and that which is positive is fixed, and that which is question is kept question, so as the columns of no further proceeding are pitched. And therefore he saw plainly men had cut themselves off from further invention; and that it is no marvel, that that is not obtained which hath not been attempted, but rather shut out and debarred. 5. He thought also, that knowledge is almost generally sought either for delight and satisfaction, or for gain or profession, or for credit and ornament, and that every of these are as Atalanta's balls, which hinder the race of invention. For men are so far in these courses from seeking to increase the mass of knowledge, as of that mass which is they will take no more than will serve their turn: and if any one amongst so many seeketh knowledge for itself, yet he rather seeketh to know the variety of things, than to discern of the truth and causes of them; and if his inquisition be yet more severe, yet it tendeth rather to judgment than to invention; and rather to discover truth in controversy, than new matter; and if his heart be so large as he propoundeth to himself further discovery or invention, yet it is rather of new discourse and speculation of causes, than of effects and operations. And as for those that have so much in their mouths, action and use and practice, and the referring of sciences thereunto; they mean it of application of that which is known, and not of a discovery of that which is unknown. So he saw plainly, that this mark, namely, invention of further means to endow the condition and life of man with new powers or works, was almost never yet set up and resolved in man's intention and inquiry. faith, the greatest number of wits have been employed, and the greatest helps and rewards have been conferred, upon divinity. And before-time likewise, the greatest part of the studies of philosophers was consumed in moral philosophy, which was as the heathen divinity. And in both times a great part of the best wits betook themselves to law, pleadings, and causes of estate; specially in the time of the greatness of the Romans, who by reason of their large empire needed the service of all their able men for civil business. And the time amongst the Grecians, in which natural philosophy seemed most to flourish, was but a short space; and that also rather abused in differing sects and conflicts of opinions than profitably spent. Since which time, natural philosophy was never any profession, nor never possessed any whole man, except perchance some monk in a cloister, or some gentleman in the country, and that very rarely; but became a science of passage, to season a little young and unripe wits, and to serve for an introduction to other arts, especially physic and the practical mathematics. So as he saw plainly, that natural philosophy hath been intended by few persons, and in them hath occupied the least part of their time, and that in the weakest of their age and judgment. 7. He thought also, how great opposition and prejudice natural philosophy had received by superstition, and the immoderate and blind zeal of religion; for he found that some of the Grecians, which first gave the reason of thunder, had been condemned of impiety; and that the cosmographers, which first discovered and described the roundness of the earth, and the consequence thereof touching the antipodes, were not much otherwise censured by the ancient fathers of the Christian church; and that the case is now much worse, in regard of the boldness of the schoolmen and their dependences in the monasteries, who having made divinity into an art, have almost incorporated the contentious philosophy of Aristotle into the body of Christian religion: and generally he perceived in men of devout simplicity this opinion, that the secrets of nature were the secrets of God; and part of that glory whereinto the mind of man, if it seek to press, shall be oppressed; and that the desire in men to attain to so great and hidden knowledge, hath a resemblance with that temptation which caused the original fall; and on the other side, in men of a devout policy, he noted an inclination to have the people depend upon God the more, when they are less acquainted with second causes; and to have no stirring in philosophy, lest it may lead to an innovation in divinity, or else should discover matter of further contradiction to divinity. But in this part, resorting to the authority of the Scriptures, 6. He thought also, that, amongst other know- and holy examples, and to reason, he rested not lodges, natural philosophy hath been the least satisfied alone, but much confirmed. For first, followed and laboured. For since the Christian | he considered that the knowledge of nature, by VOL. I.- 13 I |