Page:The Works of Francis Bacon (1884) Volume 1.djvu/554

 426 INTERPRETATION OF NATURE. and, as it were, attacks it; for words are like coins which represent the image and authority of the people ; for they always compound and claS mfy according to popular notions and acceptation which are for the most part erroneous and very confused ; so that even infants in learning to speak, are compelled to suck in and swallow a pernicious system of error. And though the wise and learned endeavour by various contrivances to deliver themselves from this bondage, by making new words, which is harsh, and by inserting definitions, which is troublesome, they cannot, with all their strength, throw off the yoke; so that innumerable controversies, even in the most acute discussions, are raised about words, and, what is much worse, that depraved coinage ol words reflects its rays and impressions into the mind itself, and is thus not only a hindrance in discourse, but injurious also to the judgment and understanding. So he saw well, that, among the internal causes of error, he must place this as one serious and pernicious import. He thought also that, besides the usual difficul ties of the sciences and knowledge, natural phi losophy, particularly the active and operative, had its peculiar drawbacks and impediments. For it has been notably hurt and discredited by some of its professors, light and vain men, who, partly from credulity, partly from craft, have loaded the human race with promises, offering promulgation of life, delay of infirmity, relief from pain, supply of natural defects, deceptions of the senses, the binding or inciting of the affections, illuminations of the mental powers, ecstasies, transmuting of substances, unlimited multiplication of motions, impressions on the air and changes of it, divina tion of future events, representations of distant occurrences, revelations of mysteries, and many other things. Now, in considering these liberal givers, we shall not be far wrong if we pass a judgment like this : that there is as much differ ence in philosophy, between their triflings and the true arts, as there is in history between the wars of Julius Caesar or Alexander, and those of Amadis de Gaul or Arthur of Britain. For it is evident that those renowned generals achieved more in reality than the other shadowy heroes are pretended to have done, but by means and ways of action not at all fabulous or supernatural. So that it is not just to deny credit to true history, oecause it is sometimes wounded and injured by fabulous stories. For Ixion of a cloud begat the Centaurs, yet still, of the real Juno, Jove begat Hebe and Vulcan, that is, the lovely and divine virtues of nature and art. But though this is true, and it shows great ignorance to be incredulous without distinction; yet, he saw well that the access to truth was formerly shut up, or at least narrowed by fables of this kind, and that the ignominy of vanity even now abates all greatness | of mind. He thought also that there is found in the rnind of man a certain affection, naturally bred and for tified by some men s opinion and doctrine, which has checked and prevented the true proceeding of natural philosophy, that is, the active and opera tive kind. This is a rotten and pernicious idea or estimation, that the majesty of man s mind suffers diminution, if it be long and deeply con versant with experiences and particulars subject to sense, and bound in matter : especially as such things usually appear laborious to search, ignoble to meditate, harsh to deliver, illiberal to practise, infinite in number, and contemptible in their mi nuteness; and, though such qualities as these no ways accommodate to the glory of the arts. And this opinion or state of mind received much strength from another wild and unfounded opi nion, which held that truth is innate in the mind of man, and not introduced from without, and that the senses rather excite than inform the understanding. Neither has this error, and (to describe it truly) delusion of mind, been any ways corrected by those who have given to sense the due, that is, the first place. Nay, more, even these, by their example and practice, deserting altogether natural history and actual experience, rested only upon agitation of wit, and grovelled without ceasing among the darkest idols of the understanding, under the suspicious name of con templation and reason. So he saw well that thia rejection and divorce of particulars has thrown the human family into total disorder. He thought, also, that we should not make our onjecture from the hindrances we meet with; only, since it is possible that the fortune of man- iind may overcome these difficulties and burst the jarriers. Hence, we must consider and examine closely the nature of that philosophy which is received, and whatever other, from ancient times, las been cast upon our shores, like the spars of sunken vessel. And he found that the natural )hilosophy which we have from the Greeks is to )e accounted a kind of childhood of science ; md that its properties are those which belong to &amp;gt;oys, that is, it is forward to chatter, but immature md unqualified for generation. Aristotle, by common consent the chief of that )hilosophy, without ever meddling with the ob servation of nature, has been unprofitably em- loyed on stale opinions, and on their comparison, pposition, and reduction. Nor is it reasonable 3 hope for any thing solid from one who has made up the world itself of categories. For, it s of little concern whether we lay down th#t matter, form, and privation, or substance, quality, nd relation, are the real principles : but we had est pass by those controversies ; for it would be nconsistent to set about a formal confutation, when we neither agree about the principles, nor the modes of demonstration; and, again, to lash with ridicule one who has obtained an authority almost