Page:The Works of Francis Bacon (1884) Volume 1.djvu/122

cxiv As to temporary inability, his golden rules were, "1st, Fix good, obliterate bad times. 2dly, In studies, whatsoever a man commandeth upon himself, let him set hours for it; but whatever is agreeable to his nature, let him take no care for any set hours, for his thoughts will fly to it of themselves."—He so mastered and subdued his mind as to counteract disinclination to study; and he prevented fatigue by stopping in due time: by a judicious intermission of studies, and by never plodding upon books; for, although he read incessantly, he winnowed quickly. Interruption was only a diversion of study; and if necessary, he sought retirement.

Of inability to acquire particular sorts of knowledge he was scarcely conscious. He was interested in all truths, and, by investigations in his youth upon subjects from which he was averse, he wore out the knots and stonds of his mind, and made it pliant to all inquiry. He contemplated nature in detail and in mass: he contracted the sight of his mind and dilated it.—He saw differences in apparent resemblances, and resemblances in apparent differences.—He had not any attachment either to antiquity or novelty.—He prevented mental aberration by studies which produced fixedness, and fixedness by keeping his mind alive and open to perpetual improvement.

The theory of memory he understood and explained: and in its practice he was perfect. He knew much, and what he once knew he seldom forgot.

In his compositions his first object was clearness: to reduce marvels to plain things, not to inflate plain things into marvels. He was not attached either to method or to ornament, although he adopted both to insure a favourable reception for abstruse truths.

Such is a faint outline of his mind, which, "like the sun, had both light and agility; it knew no rest but in motion, no quiet but in activity: it did not so properly apprehend, as irradiate the object; not so much find, as make things intelligible. There was no poring, no struggling with memory, no straining for invention; his faculties were quick and expedite: they were ready upon the first summons, there was freedom and firmness in all their operations; his understanding could almost pierce into future contingents; his conjectures improving even to prophecy; he saw consequents yet dormant in their principles, and effects yet unborn, in the womb of their causes." How much is it to be lamented that such a mind, with such a temperament, was not altogether devoted to contemplation, to the tranquil pursuit of knowledge, and the calm delights of piety.

That in his youth he should quit these pleasant paths for the troubels and trappings of public life would be a cause for wonder, if it were not remembered that man amongst men is a social being; and, however he may abstract hims-eif in his study, or climb the hill above him, he must daily mingle with their hopes and fears, their wishes and affections. He was cradled in politics: to be lord keeper was the boundary of the horizon drawn by his parents. He lived in an age when a young mind would be dazzled, and a young heart engaged by the gorgeous and chivalric style which pervaded all things, and which a romantic queen loved and encouraged: life seemed a succession of splendid dramatic scenes, and the gravest business a well acted court masque; the mercenary place-hunter knelt to beg a favour with the devoted air of a knight errant; and even sober citizens put on a clumsy disguise of gallantry, and compared their royal mistress to Venus and Diana. There was nothing to revolt a young and ingenuous mind: the road to power was, no doubt, then as it is now; but, covered with tapes try and strewed with flowers, it could not be suspected that it was either dirty or crooked. He had also that common failing of genius and ardent youth, which led him to be confident of his strength rather than suspicious of his weakness; and it was his favourite doctrine, that the perfection of human conduct consists in the union of contemplation and action, a conjunction of the two highest planets, Saturn, the planet of rest and contemplation, and Jupiter, the planet of civil society and action; but he should have recollected that Jupiter dethroned Saturn, and that civil affairs seldom fail to usurp and take captive the whole man. He soon saw his error: how futile the end, how unworthy the means! but he was fettered by narrow circumstances, and his endeavours to extricate himself were vain.

Into active life he entered, and carried into it his powerful mind and the principles of his philosophy. As a philosopher he was sincere in his love of science, intrepid and indefatigable in the pursuit and improvement of it: his philosophy is, "discover—improve." He was patientissimus veri. He was a reformer, not an innovator. His desire was to proceed, not "in aliud," but "in melius." His motive was not the love of excelling, but the love of excellence. He stood on such a height that popular praise or dispraise could not reach him.

He was a cautious reformer; quick to hear, slow to speak. "Use Argus's hundred eyes before you raise one of Briareus's hundred hands," was his maxim.

He was a gradual reformer. He thought that reform ought to be, like the advances of nature, scarce discernible in its motion, but only visible in its issue. His admonition was, "Let a living spring constantly flow into the stagnant waters."

He was confident reformer. "I have held up a light in the obscurity of philosophy which will be seen centuries after I am dead. It will be seen amidst the erection of temples, tombs,