For example: paper, a very common substance, is a singular instance

of art; for if you consider the subject attentively, you will find

that artificial substances are either woven by straight and transverse

lines, as silk, woollen, or linen cloth, and the like; or coagulated

from concrete juices, such as brick, earthenware, glass, enamel,

porcelain and the like, which admit of a polish if they be compact, but

if not, become hard without being polished; all which latter substances

are brittle, and not adherent or tenacious. On the contrary, paper is

a tenacious substance, which can be cut and torn, so as to resemble

and almost rival the skin of any animal, or the leaf of vegetables,

and the like works of nature; being neither brittle like glass, nor

woven like cloth, but having fibres and not distinct threads, just as

natural substances, so that scarcely anything similar can be found

among artificial substances, and it is absolutely singular. And in

artificial works we should certainly prefer those which approach the

nearest to an imitation of nature, or, on the other hand, powerfully

govern and change her course.

Again, in these instances which we term the wit and hands of man,

charms and conjuring should not be altogether despised, for although

mere amusements, and of little use, yet they may afford considerable

information.

Lastly, superstition and magic (in its common acceptation) are not to

be entirely omitted; for although they be overwhelmed by a mass of lies

and fables, yet some investigation should be made, to see if there be

really any latent natural operation in them; as in fascination, and the

fortifying of the imagination, the sympathy of distant objects, the

transmission of impressions from spirit to spirit no less than from

body to body, and the like.

XXXII. From the foregoing remarks, it is clear that the last five

species of instances (the similar, singular, deviating and bordering

instances, and those of power) should not be reserved for the

investigation of any given nature, as the preceding and many of the

succeeding instances must, but a collection of them should be made at

once, in the style of a particular history, so that they may arrange

the matter which enters the understanding, and correct its depraved

habit, for it is necessarily imbued, corrupted, perverted and distorted

by daily and habitual impressions.

They are to be used, therefore, as a preparative, for the purpose of

rectifying and purifying the understanding; for whatever withdraws it

from habit, levels and planes down its surface for the reception of the

dry and pure light of true notions.

These instances, moreover, level and prepare the way for the operative

branch, as we will mention in its proper place when speaking of the

practical deductions.

XXXIII. In the eleventh rank of prerogative instances we will place

accompanying and hostile instances. These are such as exhibit any body

or concrete, where the required nature is constantly found, as an

inseparable companion, or, on the contrary, where the required nature

is constantly avoided, and excluded from attendance, as an enemy. From

these instances may be formed certain and universal propositions,

either affirmative or negative; the subject of which will be the

concrete body, and the predicate the required nature. For particular

propositions are by no means fixed, when the required nature is found

to fluctuate and change in the concrete, either approaching and

acquired, or receding and laid aside. Hence particular propositions

have no great prerogative, except in the case of migration, of which we

have spoken above. Yet such particular propositions are of great use,

when compared with the universal, as will be mentioned in its proper

place. Nor do we require absolute affirmation or negation, even in

universal propositions, for if the exceptions be singular or rare, it

is sufficient for our purpose.

The use of accompanying instances is to narrow the affirmative of

form; for as it is narrowed by the migrating instances, where the form

must necessarily be something communicated or destroyed by the act of

migration, so it is narrowed by accompanying instances, where the form

must necessarily be something which enters into the concretion of the

body, or, on the contrary, is repugnant to it; and one who is well

acquainted with the constitution or formation of the body, will not be

far from bringing to light the form of the required nature.

For example: let the required nature be heat. Flame is an accompanying

instance; for in water, air, stone, metal, and many other substances,

heat is variable, and can approach or retire; but all flame is hot,

so that heat always accompanies the concretion of flame. We have no

hostile instance of heat; for the senses are unacquainted with the

interior of the earth, and there is no concretion of any known body

which is not susceptible of heat.

Again, let solidity be the required nature. Air is a hostile instance;

for metals may be liquid or solid, so may glass; even water may become

solid by congelation, but air cannot become solid or lose its fluidity.

With regard to these instances of fixed propositions, there are

two points to be observed, which are of importance. First, that

if there be no universal affirmative or negative, it be carefully

noted as not existing. Thus, in heat, we have observed that there

exists no universal negative, in such substances, at least, as have

come to our knowledge. Again, if the required nature be eternity or

incorruptibility, we have no universal affirmative within our sphere,

for these qualities cannot be predicated of any bodies below the

heavens, or above the interior of the earth. Secondly, to our general

propositions as to any concrete, whether affirmative or negative, we

should subjoin the concretes which appear to approach nearest to the

non-existing substances; such as the most gentle or least-burning

flames in heat, or gold in incorruptibility, since it approaches

nearest to it. For they all serve to show the limit of existence and

non-existence, and circumscribe forms, so that they cannot wander

beyond the conditions of matter.

XXXIV. In the twelfth rank of prerogative instances, we will class

those subjunctive instances, of which we spoke in the last aphorism,

and which we are also wont to call instances of extremity or limits;

for they are not only serviceable when subjoined to fixed propositions,

but also of themselves and from their own nature. They indicate with

sufficient precision the real divisions of nature, and measures of

things, and the “how far” nature effects or allows of anything, and

her passage thence to something else. Such are gold in weight, iron in

hardness, the whale in the size of animals, the dog in smell, the flame

of gunpowder in rapid expansion, and others of a like nature. Nor are

we to pass over the extremes in defect, as well as in abundance, as

spirits of wine in weight, the touchstone in softness, the worms upon

the skin in the size of animals, and the like.

XXXV. In the thirteenth rank of prerogative instances we will place

those of alliance or union. They are such as mingle and unite natures

held to be heterogeneous, and observed and marked as such in received

classifications.

These instances show that the operation and effect, which is considered

peculiar to some one of such heterogeneous natures, may also be

attributed to another nature styled heterogeneous, so as to prove that

the difference of the natures is not real nor essential, but a mere

modification of a common nature. They are very serviceable, therefore,

in elevating and carrying on the mind, from differences to genera,

and in removing those phantoms and images of things, which meet it in

disguise in concrete substances.

For example: let the required nature be heat. The classification

of heat into three kinds, that of the celestial bodies, that of

animals, and that of fire, appears to be settled and admitted; and

these kinds of heat, especially one of them compared with the other

two, are supposed to be different, and clearly heterogeneous in

their essence and species, or specific nature, since the heat of the

heavenly bodies and of animals generates and cherishes, while that of

fire corrupts and destroys. We have an instance of alliance, then,

in a very common experiment, that of a vine branch admitted into a

building where there is a constant fire, by which the grapes ripen a

whole month sooner than in the air; so that fruit upon the tree can

be ripened by fire, although this appear the peculiar effect of the

sun. From this beginning, therefore, the understanding rejects all

essential difference, and easily ascends to the investigation of the

real differences between the heat of the sun and that of fire, by which

their operation is rendered dissimilar, although they partake of a

common nature.

These differences will be found to be four in number. 1. The heat of

the sun is much milder and gentler in degree than that of fire. 2. It

is much more moist in quality, especially as it is transmitted to us

through the air. 3. Which is the chief point, it is very unequal,

advancing and increased at one time, retiring and diminished at

another, which mainly contributes to the generation of bodies. For

Aristotle rightly asserted, that the principal cause of generation and

corruption on the surface of the earth was the oblique path of the sun

in the zodiac, whence its heat becomes very unequal, partly from the

alternation of night and day, partly from the succession of summer and

winter. Yet must he immediately corrupt and pervert his discovery,

by dictating to nature according to his habit, and dogmatically

assigning the cause of generation to the approach of the sun, and

that of corruption to its retreat; while, in fact, each circumstance

indifferently and not respectively contributes both to generation and

corruption; for unequal heat tends to generate and corrupt, as equable

heat does to preserve. 4. The fourth difference between the heat of the

sun and fire is of great consequence; namely, that the sun, gradually,

and for a length of time, insinuates its effects, while those of fire

(urged by the impatience of man) are brought to a termination in a

shorter space of time. But if any one were to pay attention to the

tempering of fire, and reducing it to a more moderate and gentle degree

(which may be done in various ways), and then were to sprinkle and mix

a degree of humidity with it; and, above all, were to imitate the sun

in its inequality; and, lastly, were patiently to suffer some delay

(not such, however, as is proportioned to the effects of the sun,

but more than men usually admit of in those of fire), he would soon

banish the notion of any difference, and would attempt, or equal, or

perhaps sometimes surpass the effect of the sun, by the heat of fire.

A like instance of alliance is that of reviving butterflies, benumbed

and nearly dead from cold, by the gentle warmth of fire; so that fire

is no less able to revive animals than to ripen vegetables. We may

also mention the celebrated invention of Fracastorius, of applying a

pan considerably heated to the head in desperate cases of apoplexy,

which clearly expands the animal spirits, when compressed and almost

extinguished by the humors and obstructions of the brain, and excites

them to action, as the fire would operate on water or air, and in the

result produces life. Eggs are sometimes hatched by the heat of fire,

an exact imitation of animal heat; and there are many instances of the

like nature, so that no one can doubt that the heat of fire, in many

cases, can be modified till it resemble that of the heavenly bodies and

of animals.

Again, let the required natures be motion and rest. There appears to

be a settled classification, grounded on the deepest philosophy, that

natural bodies either revolve, move in a straight line, or stand still

and rest. For there is either motion without limit, or continuance

within a certain limit, or a translation toward a certain limit. The

eternal motion of revolution appears peculiar to the heavenly bodies,

rest to this our globe, and the other bodies (heavy and light, as they

are termed, that is to say, placed out of their natural position) are

borne in a straight line to masses or aggregates which resemble them,

the light toward the heaven, the heavy toward the earth; and all this

is very fine language.

But we have an instance of alliance in low comets, which revolve,

though far below the heavens; and the fiction of Aristotle, of the

comet being fixed to, or necessarily following some star, has been

long since exploded; not only because it is improbable in itself, but

from the evident fact of the discursive and irregular motion of comets

through various parts of the heavens.[125]

Another instance of alliance is that of the motion of air, which

appears to revolve from east to west within the tropics, where the

circles of revolution are the greatest.

The flow and ebb of the sea would perhaps be another instance, if the

water were once found to have a motion of revolution, though slow and

hardly perceptible, from east to west, subject, however, to a reaction

twice a day. If this be so, it is clear that the motion of revolution

is not confined to the celestial bodies, but is shared, also, by air

and water.

Again--the supposed peculiar disposition of light bodies to rise is

rather shaken; and here we may find an instance of alliance in a water

bubble. For if air be placed under water, it rises rapidly toward

the surface by that striking motion (as Democritus terms it) with

which the descending water strikes the air and raises it, not by any

struggle or effort of the air itself; and when it has reached the

surface of the water, it is prevented from ascending any further, by

the slight resistance it meets with in the water, which does not allow

an immediate separation of its parts, so that the tendency of the air

to rise must be very slight.

Again, let the required nature be weight. It is certainly a received

classification, that dense and solid bodies are borne toward the centre

of the earth, and rare and light bodies to the circumference of the

heavens, as their appropriate places. As far as relates to places

(though these things have much weight in the schools), the notion of

there being any determinate place is absurd and puerile. Philosophers

trifle, therefore, when they tell you, that if the earth were

perforated, heavy bodies would stop on their arrival at the centre.

This centre would indeed be an efficacious nothing, or mathematical

point, could it affect bodies or be sought by them, for a body is not

acted upon except by a body.[126] In fact, this tendency to ascend

and descend is either in the conformation of the moving body, or in

its harmony and sympathy with another body. But if any dense and solid

body be found, which does not, however, tend toward the earth, the

classification is at an end. Now, if we allow of Gilbert’s opinion,

that the magnetic power of the earth, in attracting heavy bodies, is

not extended beyond the limit of its peculiar virtue (which operates

always at a fixed distance and no further),[127] and this be proved by

some instance, such an instance will be one of alliance in our present

subject. The nearest approach to it is that of waterspouts, frequently

seen by persons navigating the Atlantic toward either of the Indies.

For the force and mass of the water suddenly effused by waterspouts,

appears to be so considerable, that the water must have been collected

previously, and have remained fixed where it was formed, until it was

afterward forced down by some violent cause, rather than made to fall

by the natural motion of gravity: so that it may be conjectured that

a dense and compact mass, at a great distance from the earth, may be

suspended as the earth itself is, and would not fall, unless forced

down. We do not, however, affirm this as certain. In the meanwhile,

both in this respect and many others, it will readily be seen how

deficient we are in natural history, since we are forced to have

recourse to suppositions for examples, instead of ascertained instances.

Again, let the required nature be the discursive power of the mind.

The classification of human reason and animal instinct appears to be

perfectly correct. Yet there are some instances of the actions of

brutes which seem to show that they, too, can syllogize. Thus it is

related, that a crow, which had nearly perished from thirst in a great

drought, saw some water in the hollow trunk of a tree, but as it was

too narrow for him to get into it, he continued to throw in pebbles,

which made the water rise till he could drink; and it afterward became

a proverb.

Again, let the required nature be vision. The classification

appears real and certain, which considers light as that which is

originally visible, and confers the power of seeing; and color, as

being secondarily visible, and not capable of being seen without

light, so as to appear a mere image or modification of light. Yet

there are instances of alliance in each respect; as in snow when in

great quantities, and in the flame of sulphur; the one being a color

originally and in itself light, the other a light verging toward

color.[128]

XXXVI. In the fourteenth rank of prerogative instances, we will place

the instances of the cross, borrowing our metaphor from the crosses

erected where two roads meet, to point out the different directions.

We are wont also to call them decisive and judicial instances, and in

some cases instances of the oracle and of command. Their nature is as

follows: When in investigating any nature the understanding is, as it

were, balanced, and uncertain to which of two or more natures the cause

of the required nature should be assigned, on account of the frequent

and usual concurrence of several natures, the instances of the cross

show that the union of one nature with the required nature is firm

and indissoluble, while that of the other is unsteady and separable;

by which means the question is decided, and the first is received as

the cause, while the other is dismissed and rejected. Such instances,

therefore, afford great light, and are of great weight, so that the

course of interpretation sometimes terminates, and is completed in

them. Sometimes, however, they are found among the instances already

observed, but they are generally new, being expressly and purposely

sought for and applied, and brought to light only by attentive and

active diligence.

For example: let the required nature be the flow and ebb of the sea,

which is repeated twice a day, at intervals of six hours between each

advance and retreat, with some little difference, agreeing with the

motion of the moon. We have here the following crossways:

This motion must be occasioned either by the advancing and the retiring

of the sea, like water shaken in a basin, which leaves one side while

it washes the other; or by the rising of the sea from the bottom,

and its again subsiding, like boiling water. But a doubt arises, to

which of these causes we should assign the flow and ebb. If the first

assertion be admitted, it follows, that when there is a flood on

one side, there must at the same time be an ebb on another, and the

question therefore is reduced to this. Now Acosta, and some others,

after a diligent inquiry, have observed that the flood tide takes place

on the coast of Florida, and the opposite coasts of Spain and Africa,

at the same time, as does also the ebb; and that there is not, on the

contrary, a flood tide at Florida when there is an ebb on the coasts

of Spain and Africa. Yet if one consider the subject attentively,

this does not prove the necessity of a rising motion, nor refute the

notion of a progressive motion. For the motion may be progressive, and

yet inundate the opposite shores of a channel at the same time; as if

the waters be forced and driven together from some other quarter, for

instance, which takes place in rivers, for they flow and ebb toward

each bank at the same time, yet their motion is clearly progressive,

being that of the waters from the sea entering their mouths. So it may

happen, that the waters coming in a vast body from the eastern Indian

Ocean are driven together, and forced into the channel of the Atlantic,

and therefore inundate both coasts at once. We must inquire, therefore,

if there be any other channel by which the waters can at the same time

sink and ebb; and the Southern Ocean at once suggests itself, which is

not less than the Atlantic, but rather broader and more extensive than

is requisite for this effect.

We at length arrive, then, at an instance of the cross, which is this.

If it be positively discovered, that when the flood sets in toward

the opposite coasts of Florida and Spain in the Atlantic, there is at

the same time a flood tide on the coasts of Peru and the back part

of China, in the Southern Ocean, then assuredly, from this decisive

instance, we must reject the assertion, that the flood and ebb of the

sea, about which we inquire, takes place by progressive motion; for

no other sea or place is left where there can be an ebb. But this may

most easily be learned, by inquiring of the inhabitants of Panama and

Lima (where the two oceans are separated by a narrow isthmus), whether

the flood and ebb takes place on the opposite sides of the isthmus

at the same time, or the reverse. This decision or rejection appears

certain, if it be granted that the earth is fixed; but if the earth

revolves, it may perhaps happen, that from the unequal revolution (as

regards velocity) of the earth and the waters of the sea, there may

be a violent forcing of the waters into a mass, forming the flood,

and a subsequent relaxation of them (when they can no longer bear the

accumulation), forming the ebb. A separate inquiry must be made into

this. Even with this hypothesis, however, it remains equally true, that

there must be an ebb somewhere, at the same time that there is a flood

in another quarter.

Again, let the required nature be the latter of the two motions we

have supposed; namely, that of a rising and subsiding motion, if it

should happen that upon diligent examination the progressive motion

be rejected. We have, then, three ways before us, with regard to this

nature. The motion, by which the waters raise themselves, and again

fall back, in the floods and ebbs, without the addition of any other

water rolled toward them, must take place in one of the three following

ways: Either the supply of water emanates from the interior of the

earth, and returns back again; or there is really no greater quantity

of water, but the same water (without any augmentation of its quantity)

is extended or rarefied, so as to occupy a greater space and dimension,

and again contracts itself; or there is neither an additional supply

nor any extension, but the same waters (with regard to quantity,

density, or rarity) raise themselves and fall from sympathy, by some

magnetic power attracting and calling them up, as it were, from

above. Let us then (passing over the first two motions) reduce the

investigation to the last, and inquire if there be any such elevation

of the water by sympathy or a magnetic force; and it is evident, in the

first place, that the whole mass of water being placed in the trench

or cavity of the sea, cannot be raised at once, because there would

not be enough to cover the bottom, so that if there be any tendency of

this kind in the water to raise itself, yet it would be interrupted

and checked by the cohesion of things, or (as the common expression

is) that there may be no vacuum. The water, therefore, must rise on

one side, and for that reason be diminished and ebb on another. But it

will again necessarily follow that the magnetic power not being able to

operate on the whole, operates most intensely on the centre, so as to

raise the waters there, which, when thus raised successively, desert

and abandon the sides.[129]

We at length arrive, then, at an instance of the cross, which is this:

if it be found that during the ebb the surface of the waters at sea

is more curved and round, from the waters rising in the middle, and

sinking at the sides or coast, and if, during a flood, it be more even

and level, from the waters returning to their former position, then

assuredly, by this decisive instance, the raising of them by a magnetic

force can be admitted; if otherwise, it must be entirely rejected.

It is not difficult to make the experiment (by sounding in straits),

whether the sea be deeper toward the middle in ebbs, than in floods.

But it must be observed, if this be the case, that (contrary to common

opinion) the waters rise in ebbs, and only return to their former

position in floods, so as to bathe and inundate the coast.

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