perseverance in them for ages. These are sufficiently numerous and
powerful to remove all wonder, that what we now offer should have so
long been concealed from, and have escaped the notice of mankind, and
to render it more worthy of astonishment, that it should even now have
entered any one’s mind, or become the subject of his thoughts; and
that it should have done so, we consider rather the gift of fortune
than of any extraordinary talent, and as the offspring of time rather
than wit. But, in the first place, the number of ages is reduced to
very narrow limits, on a proper consideration of the matter. For out
of twenty-five[44] centuries, with which the memory and learning of
man are conversant, scarcely six can be set apart and selected as
fertile in science and favorable to its progress. For there are deserts
and wastes in times as in countries, and we can only reckon up three
revolutions and epochs of philosophy. 1. The Greek. 2. The Roman.
3. Our own, that is the philosophy of the western nations of Europe:
and scarcely two centuries can with justice be assigned to each. The
intermediate ages of the world were unfortunate both in the quantity
and richness of the sciences produced. Nor need we mention the Arabs,
or the scholastic philosophy, which, in those ages, ground down the
sciences by their numerous treatises, more than they increased their
weight. The first cause, then, of such insignificant progress in the
sciences, is rightly referred to the small proportion of time which has
been favorable thereto.
LXXIX. A second cause offers itself, which is certainly of the greatest
importance; namely, that in those very ages in which men’s wit and
literature flourished considerably, or even moderately, but a small
part of their industry was bestowed on natural philosophy, the great
mother of the sciences. For every art and science torn from this root
may, perhaps, be polished, and put into a serviceable shape, but can
admit of little growth. It is well known, that after the Christian
religion had been acknowledged, and arrived at maturity, by far the
best wits were busied upon theology, where the highest rewards offered
themselves, and every species of assistance was abundantly supplied,
and the study of which was the principal occupation of the western
European nations during the third epoch; the rather because literature
flourished about the very time when controversies concerning religion
first began to bud forth. 2. In the preceding ages, during the second
epoch (that of the Romans), philosophical meditation and labor was
chiefly occupied and wasted in moral philosophy (the theology of
the heathens): besides, the greatest minds in these times applied
themselves to civil affairs, on account of the magnitude of the Roman
empire, which required the labor of many. 3. The age during which
natural philosophy appeared principally to flourish among the Greeks,
was but a short period, since in the more ancient times the seven sages
(with the exception of Thales), applied themselves to moral philosophy
and politics, and at a later period, after Socrates had brought
down philosophy from heaven to earth, moral philosophy became more
prevalent, and diverted men’s attention from natural. Nay, the very
period during which physical inquiries flourished, was corrupted and
rendered useless by contradictions, and the ambition of new opinions.
Since, therefore, during these three epochs, natural philosophy has
been materially neglected or impeded, it is not at all surprising
that men should have made but little progress in it, seeing they were
attending to an entirely different matter.
LXXX. Add to this that natural philosophy, especially of late, has
seldom gained exclusive possession of an individual free from all other
pursuits, even among those who have applied themselves to it, unless
there may be an example or two of some monk studying in his cell, or
some nobleman in his villa.[45] She has rather been made a passage and
bridge to other pursuits.
Thus has this great mother of the sciences been degraded most
unworthily to the situation of a handmaid, and made to wait upon
medicine or mathematical operations, and to wash the immature minds
of youth, and imbue them with a first dye, that they may afterward be
more ready to receive and retain another. In the meantime, let no one
expect any great progress in the sciences (especially their operative
part), unless natural philosophy be applied to particular sciences,
and particular sciences again referred back to natural philosophy. For
want of this, astronomy, optics, music, many mechanical arts, medicine
itself, and (what perhaps is more wonderful), moral and political
philosophy, and the logical sciences have no depth, but only glide over
the surface and variety of things; because these sciences, when they
have been once partitioned out and established, are no longer nourished
by natural philosophy, which would have imparted fresh vigor and
growth to them from the sources and genuine contemplation of motion,
rays, sounds, texture, and conformation of bodies, and the affections
and capacity of the understanding. But we can little wonder that the
sciences grow not when separated from their roots.
LXXXI. There is another powerful and great cause of the little
advancement of the sciences, which is this; it is impossible to advance
properly in the course when the goal is not properly fixed. But the
real and legitimate goal of the sciences is the endowment of human
life with new inventions and riches. The great crowd of teachers know
nothing of this, but consist of dictatorial hirelings; unless it so
happen that some artisan of an acute genius, and ambitious of fame,
gives up his time to a new discovery, which is generally attended with
a loss of property. The majority, so far from proposing to themselves
the augmentation of the mass of arts and sciences, make no other use
of an inquiry into the mass already before them, than is afforded by
the conversion of it to some use in their lectures, or to gain, or
to the acquirement of a name, and the like. But if one out of the
multitude be found, who courts science from real zeal, and on his own
account, even he will be seen rather to follow contemplation, and the
variety of theories, than a severe and strict investigation of truth.
Again, if there even be an unusually strict investigator of truth, yet
will he propose to himself, as the test of truth, the satisfaction
of his mind and understanding, as to the causes of things long since
known, and not such a test as to lead to some new earnest of effects,
and a new light in axioms. If, therefore, no one have laid down the
real end of science, we cannot wonder that there should be error in
points subordinate to that end.
LXXXII. But, in like manner, as the end and goal of science is
ill defined, so, even were the case otherwise, men have chosen an
erroneous and impassable direction. For it is sufficient to astonish
any reflecting mind, that nobody should have cared or wished to open
and complete a way for the understanding, setting off from the senses,
and regular, well-conducted experiment; but that everything has been
abandoned either to the mists of tradition, the whirl and confusion of
argument, or the waves and mazes of chance, and desultory, ill-combined
experiment. Now, let any one but consider soberly and diligently
the nature of the path men have been accustomed to pursue in the
investigation and discovery of any matter, and he will doubtless first
observe the rude and inartificial manner of discovery most familiar to
mankind: which is no other than this. When any one prepares himself for
discovery, he first inquires and obtains a full account of all that
has been said on the subject by others, then adds his own reflections,
and stirs up and, as it were, invokes his own spirit, after much
mental labor, to disclose its oracles. All which is a method without
foundation, and merely turns on opinion.
Another, perhaps, calls in logic to assist him in discovery, which
bears only a nominal relation to his purpose. For the discoveries of
logic are not discoveries of principles and leading axioms, but only
of what appears to accord with them.[46] And when men become curious
and importunate, and give trouble, interrupting her about her proofs,
and the discovery of principles or first axioms, she puts them off with
her usual answer, referring them to faith, and ordering them to swear
allegiance to each art in its own department.
There remains but mere experience, which, when it offers itself, is
called chance; when it is sought after, experiment.[47] But this kind
of experience is nothing but a loose fagot; and mere groping in the
dark, as men at night try all means of discovering the right road,
while it would be better and more prudent either to wait for day, or
procure a light, and then proceed. On the contrary, the real order of
experience begins by setting up a light, and then shows the road by it,
commencing with a regulated and digested, not a misplaced and vague
course of experiment, and thence deducing axioms, and from those axioms
new experiments: for not even the Divine Word proceeded to operate on
the general mass of things without due order.
Let men, therefore, cease to wonder if the whole course of science be
not run, when all have wandered from the path; quitting it entirely,
and deserting experience, or involving themselves in its mazes, and
wandering about, while a regularly combined system would lead them in
a sure track through its wilds to the open day of axioms.
LXXXIII. The evil, however, has been wonderfully increased by an
opinion, or inveterate conceit, which is both vainglorious and
prejudicial, namely, that the dignity of the human mind is lowered by
long and frequent intercourse with experiments and particulars, which
are the objects of sense, and confined to matter; especially since such
matters generally require labor in investigation, are mean subjects
for meditation, harsh in discourse, unproductive in practice, infinite
in number, and delicate in their subtilty. Hence we have seen the true
path not only deserted, but intercepted and blocked up, experience
being rejected with disgust, and not merely neglected or improperly
applied.
LXXXIV. Again, the reverence for antiquity,[48] and the authority of
men who have been esteemed great in philosophy, and general unanimity,
have retarded men from advancing in science, and almost enchanted them.
As to unanimity, we have spoken of it above.
The opinion which men cherish of antiquity is altogether idle, and
scarcely accords with the term. For the old age and increasing years
of the world should in reality be considered as antiquity, and this is
rather the character of our own times than of the less advanced age of
the world in those of the ancients; for the latter, with respect to
ourselves, are ancient and elder, with respect to the world modern
and younger. And as we expect a greater knowledge of human affairs,
and more mature judgment from an old man than from a youth, on account
of his experience, and the variety and number of things he has seen,
heard, and meditated upon, so we have reason to expect much greater
things of our own age (if it knew but its strength and would essay and
exert it) than from antiquity, since the world has grown older, and its
stock has been increased and accumulated with an infinite number of
experiments and observations.
We must also take into our consideration that many objects in nature
fit to throw light upon philosophy have been exposed to our view, and
discovered by means of long voyages and travels, in which our times
have abounded. It would, indeed, be dishonorable to mankind, if the
regions of the material globe, the earth, the sea, and stars, should
be so prodigiously developed and illustrated in our age, and yet the
boundaries of the intellectual globe should be confined to the narrow
discoveries of the ancients.
With regard to authority, it is the greatest weakness to attribute
infinite credit to particular authors, and to refuse his own
prerogative to time, the author of all authors, and, therefore, of all
authority. For truth is rightly named the daughter of time, not of
authority. It is not wonderful, therefore, if the bonds of antiquity,
authority, and unanimity, have so enchained the power of man, that he
is unable (as if bewitched) to become familiar with things themselves.
LXXXV. Nor is it only the admiration of antiquity, authority, and
unanimity, that has forced man’s industry to rest satisfied with
present discoveries, but, also, the admiration of the effects already
placed within his power. For whoever passes in review the variety
of subjects, and the beautiful apparatus collected and introduced by
the mechanical arts for the service of mankind, will certainly be
rather inclined to admire our wealth than to perceive our poverty:
not considering that the observations of man and operations of nature
(which are the souls and first movers of that variety) are few, and
not of deep research; the rest must be attributed merely to man’s
patience, and the delicate and well-regulated motion of the hand or of
instruments. To take an instance, the manufacture of clocks is delicate
and accurate, and appears to imitate the heavenly bodies in its wheels,
and the pulse of animals in its regular oscillation, yet it only
depends upon one or two axioms of nature.
Again, if one consider the refinement of the liberal arts, or even that
exhibited in the preparation of natural bodies in mechanical arts and
the like, as the discovery of the heavenly motions in astronomy, of
harmony in music, of the letters of the alphabet[49] (still unadopted
by the Chinese) in grammar; or, again, in mechanical operations, the
productions of Bacchus and Ceres, that is, the preparation of wine
and beer, the making of bread, or even the luxuries of the table,
distillation, and the like; if one reflect also, and consider for how
long a period of ages (for all the above, except distillation, are
ancient) these things have been brought to their present state of
perfection, and (as we instanced in clocks) to how few observations and
axioms of nature they may be referred, and how easily, and as it were,
by obvious chance or contemplation, they might be discovered, one
would soon cease to admire and rather pity the human lot on account of
its vast want and dearth of things and discoveries for so many ages.
Yet even the discoveries we have mentioned were more ancient than
philosophy and the intellectual arts; so that (to say the truth) when
contemplation and doctrinal science began, the discovery of useful
works ceased.
But if any one turn from the manufactories to libraries, and be
inclined to admire the immense variety of books offered to our view,
let him but examine and diligently inspect the matter and contents of
these books, and his astonishment will certainly change its object: for
when he finds no end of repetitions, and how much men do and speak the
same thing over again, he will pass from admiration of this variety to
astonishment at the poverty and scarcity of matter, which has hitherto
possessed and filled men’s minds.
But if any one should condescend to consider such sciences as are
deemed rather curious than sound, and take a full view of the
operations of the alchemists or magii, he will perhaps hesitate whether
he ought rather to laugh or to weep. For the alchemist cherishes
eternal hope, and when his labors succeed not, accuses his own
mistakes, deeming, in his self-accusation, that he has not properly
understood the words of art or of his authors; upon which he listens
to tradition and vague whispers, or imagines there is some slight
unsteadiness in the minute details of his practice, and then has
recourse to an endless repetition of experiments: and in the meantime,
when, in his casual experiments, he falls upon something in appearance
new, or of some degree of utility, he consoles himself with such an
earnest, and ostentatiously publishes them, keeping up his hope of
the final result. Nor can it be denied that the alchemists have made
several discoveries, and presented mankind with useful inventions. But
we may well apply to them the fable of the old man, who bequeathed to
his sons some gold buried in his garden, pretending not to know the
exact spot, whereupon they worked diligently in digging the vineyard,
and though they found no gold, the vintage was rendered more abundant
by their labor.
The followers of natural magic, who explain everything by sympathy
and antipathy, have assigned false powers and marvellous operations
to things by gratuitous and idle conjectures: and if they have ever
produced any effects, they are rather wonderful and novel than of any
real benefit or utility.
In superstitious magic (if we say anything at all about it) we must
chiefly observe, that there are only some peculiar and definite objects
with which the curious and superstitious arts have, in every nation and
age, and even under every religion, been able to exercise and amuse
themselves. Let us, therefore, pass them over. In the meantime we
cannot wonder that the false notion of plenty should have occasioned
want.
LXXXVI. The admiration of mankind with regard to the arts and sciences,
which is of itself sufficiently simple and almost puerile, has been
increased by the craft and artifices of those who have treated the
sciences, and delivered them down to posterity. For they propose and
produce them to our view so fashioned, and as it were masked, as to
make them pass for perfect and complete. For if you consider their
method and divisions, they appear to embrace and comprise everything
which can relate to the subject. And although this frame be badly
filled up and resemble an empty bladder, yet it presents to the vulgar
understanding the form and appearance of a perfect science.
The first and most ancient investigators of truth were wont, on the
contrary, with more honesty and success, to throw all the knowledge
they wished to gather from contemplation, and to lay up for use, into
aphorisms, or short scattered sentences unconnected by any method, and
without pretending or professing to comprehend any entire art. But
according to the present system, we cannot wonder that men seek nothing
beyond that which is handed down to them as perfect, and already
extended to its full complement.
LXXXVII. The ancient theories have received additional support and
credit from the absurdity and levity of those who have promoted the
new, especially in the active and practical part of natural philosophy.
For there have been many silly and fantastical fellows who, from
credulity or imposture, have loaded mankind with promises, announcing
and boasting of the prolongation of life, the retarding of old age,
the alleviation of pains, the remedying of natural defects, the
deception of the senses, the restraint and excitement of the passions,
the illumination and exaltation of the intellectual faculties, the
transmutation of substances, the unlimited intensity and multiplication
of motion, the impressions and changes of the air, the bringing into
our power the management of celestial influences, the divination of
future events, the representation of distant objects, the revelation of
hidden objects, and the like. One would not be very wrong in observing
with regard to such pretenders, that there is as much difference in
philosophy, between their absurdity and real science, as there is in
history between the exploits of Cæsar or Alexander, and those of
Amadis de Gaul and Arthur of Britain. For those illustrious generals
are found to have actually performed greater exploits than such
fictitious heroes are even pretended to have accomplished, by the
means, however, of real action, and not by any fabulous and portentous
power. Yet it is not right to suffer our belief in true history to be
diminished, because it is sometimes injured and violated by fables. In
the meantime we cannot wonder that great prejudice has been excited
against any new propositions (especially when coupled with any mention
of effects to be produced), by the conduct of impostors who have
made a similar attempt; for their extreme absurdity, and the disgust
occasioned by it, has even to this day overpowered every spirited
attempt of the kind.
LXXXVIII. Want of energy, and the littleness and futility of the tasks
that human industry has undertaken, have produced much greater injury
to the sciences: and yet (to make it still worse) that very want of
energy manifests itself in conjunction with arrogance and disdain.
For, in the first place, one excuse, now from its repetition become
familiar, is to be observed in every art, namely, that its promoters
convert the weakness of the art itself into a calumny upon nature:
and whatever it in their hands fails to effect, they pronounce to be
physically impossible. But how can the art ever be condemned while it
acts as judge in its own cause? Even the present system of philosophy
cherishes in its bosom certain positions or dogmas, which (it will be
found on diligent inquiry) are calculated to produce a full conviction
that no difficult, commanding, and powerful operation upon nature ought
to be anticipated through the means of art; we instanced[50] above the
alleged different quality of heat in the sun and fire, and composition
and mixture. Upon an accurate observation the whole tendency of such
positions is wilfully to circumscribe man’s power, and to produce a
despair of the means of invention and contrivance, which would not only
confound the promises of hope, but cut the very springs and sinews of
industry, and throw aside even the chances of experience. The only
object of such philosophers is to acquire the reputation of perfection
for their own art, and they are anxious to obtain the most silly and
abandoned renown, by causing a belief that whatever has not yet been
invented and understood can never be so hereafter. But if any one
attempt to give himself up to things, and to discover something new;
yet he will only propose and destine for his object the investigation
and discovery of some one invention, and nothing more; as the nature
of the magnet, the tides, the heavenly system, and the like, which
appear enveloped in some degree of mystery, and have hitherto been
treated with but little success. Now it is the greatest proof of want
of skill, to investigate the nature of any object in itself alone; for
that same nature, which seems concealed and hidden in some instances,
is manifest and almost palpable in others, and excites wonder in the
former, while it hardly attracts attention in the latter.[51] Thus the
nature of consistency is scarcely observed in wood or stone, but passed
over by the term solid without any further inquiry about the repulsion
of separation or the solution of continuity. But in water-bubbles the
same circumstance appears matter of delicate and ingenious research,
for they form themselves into thin pellicles, curiously shaped into
hemispheres, so as for an instant to avoid the solution of continuity.
In general those very things which are considered as secret are
manifest and common in other objects, but will never be clearly seen
if the experiments and contemplation of man be directed to themselves
only. Yet it commonly happens, that if, in the mechanical arts, any
one bring old discoveries to a finer polish, or more elegant height of
ornament, or unite and compound them, or apply them more readily to
practice, or exhibit them on a less heavy and voluminous scale, and the
like, they will pass off as new.
We cannot, therefore, wonder that no magnificent discoveries, worthy
of mankind, have been brought to light, while men are satisfied and
delighted with such scanty and puerile tasks, nay, even think that they
have pursued or attained some great object in their accomplishment.