CHAPTER VI.

THE SCIENTIFIC METHOD IN POLITICS.

'If any man think philosophy and universality to be idle studies, he

doth not consider that all professions are _from thence_ served and

supplied.'

_Advancement of Learning_.

'We leave room on every subject for the human or optative part; for it

is a part of science to make judicious inquiries and wishes.'

_Novum Organum_.

As to the _method_ of this new kind of philosophical inquiry, which is

brought to bear here so stedfastly upon the most delicate questions,

at a time when the Play-house was expressly forbidden by a Royal

Ordinance, on pain of dissolution, to touch them--in an age, too, when

Parliaments were lectured, and brow-beaten, and rudely sent home, for

contumaciously persisting in meddling with questions of _state_--in an

age in which prelates were shrilly interrupted in the pulpit, in the

midst of their finest and gravest Sunday discourse, and told, in the

presence of their congregations, to hold their tongues and mind their

own business, if they chanced to touch upon 'questions of church,' on

a day when the Head of the Church herself, in her own sacred person,

in her largest ruff, and 'rustling' in her last silk, happened to be

in her pew;--as to the _method_ of the philosophical investigations

which were conducted under such critical conditions, of course there

was no harm in displaying _that_ in the abstract, as a _method_

merely. As a method of _philosophical_ inquiry, there was no harm in

presenting it in a tolerably lucid and brilliant manner, accompanying

the exhibition with careful, and _apparently specific_, directions as

to the application of it to indifferent subjects. There was no harm,

indeed, in blazoning this method a little, and in soliciting the

attention of the public, and the attention of mankind in general, to

it in a somewhat extraordinary manner, not without some considerable

blowing of trumpets. As a method of _philosophical inquiry_, merely,

what earthly harm could it do? Surely there was no more innocent thing

in nature than 'your philosophy,' then, so far as any overt acts were

concerned; it certainly was the last thing in the world that a king or

a queen need trouble their heads about then. Who cared what methods

the philosophers were taking, or whether this was a new one or an old

one, so that the men of letters could understand it? The modern

Solomon was fain to confess that, for his part, he could not--that it

was beyond his depth; whereas the history of _Henry the Seventh_, by

the same author, appeared to him extremely clear and lively, and quite

within his range, and to _that_ he gave his own personal approbation.

The other work, however, as it was making so much noise in the world,

and promising to go down to posterity, would serve to adorn his reign,

and make it illustrious in future ages.

There was no harm in this philosopher's setting forth his _method_

then, and giving very minute and strict directions in regard to its

applications to 'certain subjects.' As to what the Author of it did

with it himself--that, of course, was another thing, and nobody's

business but his own just then, as it happened.

So totally was the world off its guard at the moment of this great and

greatest innovation in its practice--so totally unaccustomed were men

then to look for anything like _power_ in the quarter from which this

seemed to be proceeding--so impossible was it for this single book to

remove that previous impression--that the Author of the Novum Organum

could even venture to intersperse these directions, with regard to its

specific and particular applications, with pointed and not infrequent

allusions to the comprehensive nature--the essentially comprehensive

nature--of '_the Machine_' whose application to these _certain

instances_ he is at such pains to specify; he could, indeed, produce

it with a continuous side-long glance at this so portentous quality of

it.

Nay, he could go farther than that, and venture to assert openly, over

his own name, and leave on record for the benefit of posterity, _the

assertion_ that this new method of inquiry _does apply_, directly and

primarily, to those questions in which the human race are _primarily

concerned_; that it strikes at once to the heart of those questions,

and was invented to that end.

Such a certificate and warranty of the New Machine was put up by the

hands of the Inventor on the face of it, when he dedicated it to the

human use--when he appealed in its behalf from the criticism of the

times that were near, to those that were far off. Nay, he takes pains

to tell us; he tells us in that same moment, what one who studies the

NOVUM ORGANUM with the key of '_Times_' does not need to be told--can

see for himself--that in his _description of the method_ he has

already contrived to _make the application_, the _universal_ practical

_application_.

In his PREROGATIVE INSTANCES, the mind of man is brought out already

from its SPECIFIC narrowness, from its own abstract logical conceits

and arrogant prenotions, into that collision with fact--the broader

fact, the universal fact--and subjected to that discipline from it

which is the intention of this logic. It is a 'machine' which is meant

to serve to Man as a '_New' Mind_--the scientific mind, which is in

harmony with nature--a mind informed and enlarged with the universal

laws, the laws of KINDS, instead of the spontaneous uninstructed mind,

instead of the narrow specific mind of a barbaric race, filled with

its own preposterous prenotions and vain conceits, and at war with

universal nature; boldly pursuing its deadly feud with _that_, priding

itself on it, making a virtue of it. It is a machine in which those

human faculties which are the gifts of God to man, as the instruments

of his welfare, are for the first time scientifically conjoined. It is

a Machine in which _the senses_, those hitherto despised instruments

in _philosophy_, by means of a scientific rule and oversight, and with

the aid of scientific instruments, are made available for philosophic

purposes. It is a Machine in which that organization whereby the

universal nature _impresses_ itself on us--reports itself to

us--striking its incessant telegraphs on us, whether we read them or

not, is for the first time brought to the philosopher's aid; and it is

a Machine, also, by which _speculation_, that hitherto despised

instrument in _practice_, is for the first time, brought to the aid of

the man of practice. It is doubly 'New': it is a Machine in which

speculation becomes practical--it is a Machine in which practice

becomes scientific.

[_Fool_. Canst thou tell why a man's nose stands in the middle of his

face?

_Lear_. No.

_Fool_. Why, to keep his eyes on either side of it, that what he

cannot smell out, he may spy into.]

In 'THE PREROGATIVE INSTANCES,' the universal matter of _fact_ is

already taken up and disposed of in grand masses, under these

headships and chief cases, not in a miscellaneous, but scientific

manner. The Nature of Things is all there; for this is a Logic which

bows the mind of man to the law of the universal nature, and _informs_

and enlarges it with that. It is not a Logic merely in the old sense

of that term. The old Logic, and the cobwebs of metaphysics that grew

out of it, are the things which this Machine is going to puff away,

with the mere whiff and wind of its inroads into nature, and disperse

for ever. It is not a logic merely as logic has hitherto been limited,

but a philosophy. A logic in which the general 'notions of nature'

which are _causes_, powers, simple powers, elemental powers, true

differences, are substituted for those spontaneous, rude, uncorrected,

_specific_ notions,--_pre_-notions of men, which have in that form, as

they stand thus, no correlative in nature, and are therefore

impotent--not true _terms_ and _forms_, but air-words, air-lines,

merely. It is a logic which includes the Mind of NATURE, and her laws;

and not one which is limited to the mind of _Man_, and so fitted to

its _incapacity_ as to nurse him in his natural ignorance, to educate

him in his born foolery and conceit, to teach him to ignore by rule,

and set at nought the infinite mystery of nature.

The universal history, all of it that the mind of man is constituted

to grasp, is here in the general, under these PREROGATIVE INSTANCES,

in the luminous order of the Inventor of this science, blazing

throughout with his genius, and the mind that has abolished its

prenotions, and renounced its rude, instinctive, barbaric tendencies,

and has taken this scientific Organum instead; has armed itself with

the Nature of Things, and is prepared to grapple with all

specifications and particulars.

The author tells us plainly, that those seemingly pedantic

arrangements with which he is compelled to perplex his subject in this

great work of his, the work in which he openly introduces HIS

INNOVATION,--as that--will fall off by and by, when there is no longer

any need of them. They are but the natural guards with which great

Nature, working in the instinct of the philosophic genius, protects

her choicest growth,--the husk of that grain which must have times,

and a time to grow in,--the bark which the sap must stop to build, ere

its delicate works within are safe. They are like the sheaths with

which she hides through frost and wind and shower, until their hour

has come, her vernal patterns, her secret toils, her magic cunning,

her struggling aspirations, her glorious successes, her celestial

triumphs.

In the midst of this studious fog of scholasticism, this complicated

network of superficial divisions, the man of humour, who is always not

far off and ready to assist in the priestly ministrations as he sees

occasion, gently directs our attention to those more simple and

natural divisions of the subject, and those more immediately practical

terms, which it might be possible to use, under certain circumstances,

in speaking of the _same subjects_, into which, however, _these_ are

easily resolvable, as soon as the right point of observation is taken.

Through all this haze, he contrives to show us confidentially, the

outline of those grand natural divisions, which he has already clearly

produced--under their scholastic names, indeed,--in his book of the

Advancement of Learning; but which he cannot so openly continue, in a

work produced professedly, as a practical instrument fit for

application to immediate use, and where the true application is

constantly entering the vitals of subjects too delicate to be openly

glanced at then.

But he gives us to understand, however, that he _has_ made the

application of this method to practice, in a much more _specific,

detailed_ manner, in another place, that he _has_ brought it down from

those more general forms of the Novum Organum, into 'the nobler'

departments, 'the more chosen' departments of that universal field of

human practice, which the Novum Organum takes up in its great outline,

and boldly and clearly claims in the general, though when it comes to

specific applications and particulars, it does so stedfastly strike,

or appear to strike, into that one track of practice, which was the

only one left open to it then,--which it keeps still as rigidly as if

it had no other. He has brought it out, he tells us, from that trunk

of 'universality,' and carried it with his own hand into the minutest

points and fibres of particulars, those points and fibres, those

living articulations in which the grand natural divisions he indicates

here, naturally terminate; the divisions which the philosopher who

'makes the Art and Practic part of life, the _mistress_ to his

Theoric,' must of course follow. He tells us that he _has_ applied it

to PARTICULAR ARTS, to those departments of the human experience and

practice in which the need of a _rule_ is most felt, and where things

have been suffered to go on hitherto, in a specially miscellaneous

manner, and that his axioms of practice in these departments have been

so scientifically constructed from particulars, that he thinks they

will be apt to know their way to particulars again;--that their

specifications are at the same time so comprehensive and so minute,

that he considers them fit for immediate use, or at least so far forth

fitted, as to require but little skill on the part of the

practitioner, to insure them against failure in practice. The process

being, of course, in this application to the exigencies of practice,

necessarily disentangled from those technicalities and relics of the

old wordy scholasticism in which he was compelled to incase and seal

up his meanings, in his _professedly_ scientific works, and especially

in his professedly _practical_ scientific work.

But these so important applications of his philosophy to practice, of

which he issues so fair a prospectus, though he frequently _refers_ to

them, could not then be published. The time had not come, and

personally, he was obliged to leave, before it came. He was careful,

however, to make the best provision which could be made, under such

circumstances, for the carrying out of his intentions; for he left a

will. These works of _practice_ could not then be published; and if

they could have been, there was no public then ready for them. They

could not be _published_; but there was nothing to hinder their being

put under cover. There was no difficulty to a man of skill in packing

them up in a portable form, under lids and covers of one sort and

another, so unexceptionable, that all the world could carry them

about, for a century or two, and not perceive that there was any harm

in them. Very curiously wrought covers they might be too, with some

taste of the wonders of mine art pressing through, a little here and

there. They might be put under a very gorgeous and attractive cover in

one case, and under a very odd and fantastic one in another; but in

such a manner as to command, in both cases, the admiration and wonder

of men, so as to pique perpetually their curiosity and provoke

inquiry, until the time had come and the key was found.

'Some may raise this question,' he says, talking as he does sometimes

in the historical plural of his philosophic chair,--'_this question,

rather than objection_,'--[it was much to be preferred in that form

certainly]--'whether we talk of perfecting NATURAL PHILOSOPHY alone,

according to our method, or _the other sciences such as_--ETHICS,

LOGIC, POLITICS.' A pretty _question_ to raise just then, truly,

though this philosopher sees fit to take it so demurely. 'Whether we

talk of _perfecting politics_ with our method,' Elizabethan

politics,--and not politics only, but whether we talk of _perfecting

'ethics'_ with it also, and 'logic,--common logic,' which last is as

much in need of perfecting as anything, and the beginning of

perfecting of that is the reform in the others. 'We certainly

intend,'--the emphasis here is on the word '_certainly_,' though the

reader who has not the key of the times may not perceive it; 'We

certainly intend to comprehend them ALL.' For this is the author whose

words are most of them emphatic. We must read his sentences more than

once to get all the emphasis. We certainly INTEND to comprehend them

all. 'We are not vain promisers,' he says, emphasizing _that_ word in

another place, and putting this intention into the shape of a

_promise_.

And as _common logic which regulates matters_ by syllogism is applied,

not only to natural, but to every other science, so our inductive

method _likewise_, comprehends them _all_.--Again--[he thinks this

bears repeating, repeating in this connection, for now he is measuring

the claims of this new method, this _new logic_, with the claims of

that which he finds in possession, regulating matters by syllogism,

not producing a very logical result, however:] 'For we form a history,

and tables of invention, for ANGER, FEAR, SHAME, and the like,' [that

is--we _form_ a _history_ and tables of _invention_ for the passions

or affections,] 'and _also_ for EXAMPLES IN CIVIL LIFE, and the MENTAL

OPERATIONS ... as well as for HEAT, COLD, LIGHT, VEGETATION and THE

LIKE,' and he directs us to the Fourth Part of the Instauration, which

he reserves for his noblest and more chosen subjects for the

confirmation of this assertion.

'_But_ since our method of interpretation, after preparing and

arranging a history, does not content itself with examining _the

opinions and desires_ of THE MIND--[hear]--like common logic, but also

inspects THE NATURE of THINGS, we so regulate the mind that it may be

enabled to _apply itself_, in every respect, correctly to _that

nature_.' Our _examples_ in this part of the work, which is but a

small and preparatory part of it, are limited, as you will observe, to

_heat, cold, light, vegetation_, and _the like_; but this is the

explanation of the general intention, which will enable you to

disregard that circumstance in your reading of it.--Those examples

will serve their purpose with the minds that they detain. They are

preparatory, and greatly useful, if you read this new logic from the

height of this explanation, you will have a mind, formed by that

process, able to apply itself, in every respect, correctly to the

subjects omitted here by name, but so clearly claimed, not as the

proper subjects only, but as the _actual_ subjects of the new

investigation. But lest you should not understand this explanation, he

continues--'_On this account_ we deliver _necessary_ and _various_

precepts in _our doctrine of interpretation_, so that we may apply, in

some measure, to the method of discovering _the quality and condition

of the subject matter of investigation_.' And this is the apology for

omitting here, or _seeming_ to omit, _such sciences as_ Ethics,

Politics, and that science which is alluded to under the name of

_Common Logic_.

This is, indeed, a very instructive paragraph, though it is a

gratuitous one for the scholar who has found leisure to read this work

with the aid of that doctrine of _interpretation_ referred to,

especially if he is already familiar with its particular applications

to the noble subjects just specified.

Among the prerogative instances--'suggestive instances' are

included--'such as _suggest or_ point out _that_ which is

_advantageous to mankind_; for _bare power_ and _knowledge_ in

_themselves exalt_, rather than _enrich_, human nature. _We shall have

a better opportunity of discovering these, when we treat of the

application to practice._ BESIDES, in the WORK of INTERPRETATION, we

LEAVE ROOM ON EVERY SUBJECT for the _human or optative_ part; FOR IT

is A PART OF SCIENCE, to make JUDICIOUS INQUIRIES and WISHES.' 'The

_generally_ useful instances. They are such as relate to various

points, and _frequently occur_, sparing by that means _considerable

labour_ and _new trials_. The proper place for speaking of

_instruments_, and _contrivances_, will be that in which we speak of

_application to practice_, and the _method_ of EXPERIMENT. _All that

has hitherto been ascertained and made use of_, WILL BE APPLIED in the

PARTICULAR HISTORY of EACH ART.' [We certainly intend to _include_

them ALL, such as Ethics, Politics, and Common Logic.]

'We have now, therefore, exhibited the species, or _simple elements_

of the _motions_, _tendencies_, and _active powers_, which are most

universal in nature; and no small portion of NATURAL, _that is_,

UNIVERSAL SCIENCE, has been _sketched out_. We do _not_, however, deny

_that_ OTHER INSTANCES can, _perhaps, be added_' (he has confined

himself chiefly to the physical agencies under this head, with a

sidelong glance at others, now and then), 'and our _divisions changed_

to some _more natural order_ of _things_ [hear], and also reduced to a

_less number_ [hear], in which respect we do _not_ allude to any

_abstract_ classification, as if one were to say,'--and he quotes

here, in this apparently disparaging manner, his own grand, new-coined

classification, which he has drawn out with his new method from the

heart of nature, and applied to the human,--which he had to go into

the universal nature to find, that very classification which he has

exhibited _abstractly_ in his Advancement of Learning--_abstractly_,

and, therefore, without coming into any dangerous contact with any

one's preconceptions,--'as if one were to say, that bodies desire the

_preservation, exaltation_, propagation, or fruition of their natures;

or, that motion tends to the preservation and benefit, either of the

UNIVERSE, as in the case of the motions of _resistance_ and

_connection_--those two _universal_ motions and tendencies--or of

EXTENSIVE WHOLES, as in the case of those of the _greater

congregation_.' These are phrases which look innocent enough; there is

no offensive approximation to particulars here, apparently; what harm

can there be in the philosophy of 'extensive wholes,' and 'larger

congregations'? Nobody can call that meddling with 'church and state.'

Surely one may speak of the nature of things in general, under such

general terms as these, without being suspected of an intention to

innovate. 'Have you heard the argument?' says the king to Hamlet. 'Is

there no offence in it?' 'None in the world.' But the philosopher goes

on, and does come occasionally, even here, to words which begin to

sound at little suspicious in such connexions, or would, if one did

not know how _general_ the intention must be in this application of

them. They are _abstract_ terms, and, of course, nobody need see that

they are a different kind of abstraction from the old ones, that the

grappling-hook on all particulars has been abstracted in them. Suppose

one were to say, then, to resume, 'that motion tends to the

preservation and benefit, either of _the universe_, as in the case of

the motions of _resistance_ and _connection_, or of _extensive

wholes_, as in the case of the motions of _the greater congregation_--

[what are these motions, then?]--REVOLUTION and ABHORRENCE of CHANGE,

or of _particular forms_, as in the case of _the others_.' This looks

a little like growing towards a point. We are apt to consider these

motions in certain _specific_ forms, as they appear in those extensive

wholes and larger congregations, which it is not necessary to name

more particularly in this connection, though they are terms of a

'suggestive' character, to borrow the author's own expression, and

belong properly to subjects which this author has just included in

his system.

But this is none other than his own philosophy which he seems to be

criticising, and rating, and rejecting here so scornfully; but if we

go on a little further, we shall find what the criticism amounts to,

and that it is only the limitation of it to _the general

statement_--that it is _the abstract_ form of it, which he complains

of. He wishes to direct our attention to the fact, that he does not

consider it good for anything in that general form in which he has put

it in his Book of Learning. This is the deficiency which he is always

pointing out in that work, because this is the deficiency which it has

been his chief labour to supply. Till that defect, that grand defect

which his philosophy exhibits, as it stands in his books of abstract

science, is supplied--that defect to which, even in these works

themselves, he is always directing our attention--he cannot, without

self-contradiction, propound his philosophy to the world as a

practical one, good for human relief.

In order that it should accomplish the ends to which it is addressed,

it is not enough, he tells us in so many words, to exhibit it in the

abstract, in general terms, for these are but 'the husks and shells of

sciences.' It must be brought down and applied to those artistic

reformations which afflicted, oppressed human nature demands--to those

artistic constructions to which human nature spontaneously,

instinctively tends, and empirically struggles to achieve.

'For _although_,' he continues,'_such remarks_--those last

quoted--_be_ just, _unless they terminate in_ MATTER AND CONSTRUCTION,

_according to the_ TRUE DEFINITIONS, _they are_ SPECULATIVE, and of

LITTLE USE.' But in the Novum Organum, those more natural divisions

are reduced to a form in which it IS _possible to commence practice_

with them at once, in certain departments, where there is no objection

to _innovation_,--where the proposal for the relief of the human

estate is met without opposition,--where the new scientific

achievements in the conquest of nature are met with a universal,

unanimous human plaudit and gratulation.

'_In the meantime_,' he continues, after condemning those abstract

terms, and declaring, that unless they terminate in _matter and

construction, according_ to _true definitions_, they are

_speculative_, and of _little use_--'_In the meantime, our

classification will suffice_, and be of much use in the consideration

of the PREDOMINANCE of POWERS, and examining the WRESTLING INSTANCES,

which constitute our PRESENT SUBJECT.' [The subject that was _present_

then. The question.]

So that the Novum Organum presents itself to us, in these passages,

only as a preparation and arming of the mind for a closer dealing with

the nature of things, in particular instances, which are _not_ there

instanced,--for those more critical 'WRESTLING INSTANCES' which the

scientific re-constructions, according to true definitions, in the

higher departments of human want will constitute,--those _wrestling_

instances, which will naturally arise whenever the philosophy which

concerns itself experimentally with the question of the predominance

of powers--the philosophy which includes in its programme the

practical application of the principles of revolution and abhorrence

of change, in 'greater congregations' and 'extensive wholes,' as well

as the principles of _motion_ in 'particular forms'--shall come to be

applied to its nobler, to its noblest subjects. That is the philosophy

which dismisses its technicalities, which finds such words as these

when the question of the predominance of powers, and the question of

revolution and abhorrence of change in the greater congregations and

extensive wholes, comes to be practically handled. This is the way we

philosophise 'when we come to particulars.'

'In _a rebellion_,

When what's _not meet_, but what must be, was law,

Then were they chosen. In a better hour,

Let what _is meet_ be said it must be _meet_,

And _throw their power in the dust_.'

That is what we should call, in a _general_ way, 'the motion of

revolution' in our book of abstractions; this is the moment in which

it _predominates_ over 'the abhorrence of change,' if not in the

extensive whole--if not in _the whole_ of the greater congregation, in

that part of it for whom this one speaks; and this is the critical

moment which the man of science makes so much of,--brings out so

scientifically, so elaborately in this experiment. But this is a part

of science which he is mainly familiar with. Here is a place, for

instance, where the motion of particular forms is skilfully brought to

the aid of that larger motion. Here we have an experiment in which

these petty motives come in to aid the revolutionary movement in the

minds of the leaders of it, and with their feather's weight turn the

scale, when the abhorrence of change is too nicely balanced with its

antagonistic force for a predominance of powers without it.

'But for my single self,

I had as lief not be, as live to be

In awe of such a thing as _I_ myself.

I was born free as Caesar; so were you.

* * * * *

Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world

_Like a Colossus_; and we, petty men,

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about

To find ourselves _dishonorable graves_.

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

_Brutus_ and _Caesar_. What should be in _that Caesar_?

Why should that name be sounded more than yours?

Conjure with them;

_Brutus_ will start a spirit as soon as _Caesar_.

_Now in the name_ of _all the gods at once_,

_Upon what meat doth this our_ CAESAR _feed,

That he is grown so great_? AGE, _thou_ art shamed:

Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods.

When went there by an AGE, since the great flood,

But it was famed with more than with ONE MAN?

When could they say, till now, that talked of _Rome_,

That _her wide walls_ encompassed _but One Man_?

_Now_ is it _Rome indeed_, and _room enough_,

When there is in it but _One Only Man_.

* * * * *

What you would work me to, I have some aim;

_How I have thought of this_, and of _these times_,

I shall recount hereafter.

Now could _I_, Casca,

_Name_ to thee a man most like this dreadful night;

That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars

As doth the lion in the Capitol,

A man no mightier than thyself, or me,

In PERSONAL ACTION; yet _prodigious_ grown,

And _fearful as these strange eruptions are_.'

''T is Caesar _that you mean_: Is it _not_, Cassius?'

'Let it be--WHO IT is: for Romans now

Have thewes and limbs like to their ancestors.

* * * * *

Poor man, I know he would not be a wolf,

But that he sees the Romans are but sheep.

_He_ were no _lion, were not Romans hinds.

Those that with haste will make a mighty fire,

Begin it_ with--WEAK STRAWS. What _trash_ is--Rome

What rubbish, and what offal, _when it serves

for the base matter to illuminate

So vile a thing as_--Caesar. But--

_I_ perhaps _speak this_

Before a willing bondman.

And here is another case where the question of the predominance of

powers arises. In this instance, it is the question of _British_

freedom that comes up; and the _tribute_--not the tax--that a

Caesar--the first Caesar himself, had exacted, is refused 'in a better

hour,' by a people kindling with ancestral recollections, throwing

themselves upon their ancient rights, and '_the natural bravery of

their isle_,' and ready to re-assert their ancient liberties.

The Ambassador of Augustus makes his master's complaint at the British

Court. The answer of the State runs thus, king, queen and prince

taking part in it, as the Poet's convenience seems to require.

'This tribute,' complains the Roman; 'by thee, lately, is left

untendered.'

_Queen_. And, to kill the marvel,

Shall be so ever.

_Prince Cloten_. _There be many Caesars_,

Ere such another Julius. Britain is

_A world by itself_; and we will nothing pay,

For wearing our own noses. [_General principles_.]

_Queen_. That opportunity

_Which then they had to take from us, to resume

We have again._ Remember, sir, my liege,

[It is the people who are represented here by Cymbeline.]

_The kings your ancestors_; together with

The natural bravery of your isle; which stands

As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in

With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters;

With sands, that will not bear your enemies' boats,

But suck them up to the top-mast.

* * * * *

_Cloten_. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: _Our kingdom

is stronger_ than it was at that time; and, as _I said_, there is

no more _such_ Caesars: _other_ of them _may have crooked noses_;

but, to owe _such straight arms_, none.

_Cymbeline_. Son, let your mother end.

_Cloten. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cassibelan_:

I do not say, I am one; but I have a hand.--Why tribute? Why

should we pay tribute? If Caesar can hide the sun from us with a

blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute

for light; else, Sir, no more tribute, pray you now.

_Cymbeline_. You must know,

Till the _injurious Romans_ did extort

This tribute from us, _we were free: Caesar's ambition_

.... against all colour, here

Did put the yoke upon us; which to _shake off_,

Becomes a warlike people, _whom we reckon_

_Ourselves to be_. We do say then to Caesar,

_Our_ ancestor was that Mulmutius, _which

Ordained_ OUR LAWS, whose use THE SWORD OF CAESAR

_Hath too much mangled_; whose REPAIR and FRANCHISE,

Shall, by the power we hold, be _our good deed_.

Mulmutius _made our laws_,

Who was the first of BRITAIN which did put

His brows within a golden crown, and called

_Himself_ a KING.

That is the tune when the Caesar comes this way, to a people who have

such an ancestor to refer to; no matter what costume he comes in. This

is Caesar in Britain; and though Prince Cloten appears to incline

naturally to prose, as the medium best adapted to the expression of

his views, the blank verse of Cymbeline is as good as that of Brutus

and Cassius, and seems to run in their vein very much.

It is in some such terms as these that we handle those universal

motions on whose balance the welfare of the world depends--'the

motions of _resistance_ and _connection_,' as the Elizabethan

philosopher, with a broader grasp than the Newtonian, calls them--when

we come to the diagrams which represent particulars. This is the kind

of language which this author adopts when he comes to the

modifications of those motions which are incident to extensive wholes

in the case of the greater congregations; that is, '_revolution_' and

'_abhorrence of change_,' and to those which belong to _particular

forms_ also. For it is the science of life; and when the universal

science touches the human life, it will have nothing less vivacious

than this. It will have the _particular of life_ here also. It will

not have abstract revolutionists, any more than it will have abstract

butterflies, or bivalves, or univalves. This is the kind of 'loud'

talk that one is apt to hear in this man's school; and the clash and

clang that this very play now under review is full of, is just the

noise that is sure to come out of his laboratory, whenever he gets

upon one of these experiments in 'extensive wholes,' which he is so

fond of trying. It is the noise that one always hears on his stage,

whenever the question of 'particular forms' and _predominance of

powers comes_ to be put experimentally, at least, _in this class_ of

'wrestling instances.'

For we have here a form of composition in which that more simple and

natural order above referred to is adopted--where those clear

scientific classifications, which this author himself plainly exhibits

in another scientific work, though he disguises them in the Novum

Organum, are again brought out, no longer in the abstract, but

grappling the matter; where, instead of the scientific technicalities

just quoted--instead of those abstract terms, such as 'extensive

wholes,' 'greater congregation,' 'fruition of their natures,' and the

like--we have terms not less scientific, the equivalents of these, but

more living--words ringing with the detail of life in its scientific

condensations--reddening with the glow, or whitening with the calm, of

its ideal intensities--pursuing it everywhere--everywhere, to the last

height of its poetic fervors and exaltations.

And it is because this so vivid popular science has its issue from

this 'source'--it is because it proceeds from this scientific centre,

on the scientific radii, through all the divergencies and

refrangibilities of the universal beam--it is because all this

inexhaustible multiplicity and variety of particulars is threaded with

the fibre of the universal science--it is because all these

thick-flowering imaginations, these 'mellow hangings,' are hung upon

the stems and branches that unite in the trunk of the _prima

philosophia_--it is because of this that men find it so prophetic, so

inclusive, so magical; _this_ is the reason they find _all_ in it. 'I

have either told, or designed to tell, _all_,' says the expositor of

these plays. 'What I cannot speak, I point out with my finger.' For

all the building of this genius is a building on that scientific

ground-plan he has left us; and that is a plan which includes all _the

human_ field. It is the plan of the _Great Instauration_.

The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakspere Unfolded · 第 6 / 13 章