THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
Preface: Since it seems to me that people
do not keep strictly to the straight and
narrow when forming their opinions or putting
things to the test, I have decided to use
all the means at my disposal to remedy this
misfortune. For in nothing else does the
aspiration to deserve well show itself than
if things are so arranged that people, freed
both from the hobgoblins of belief and blindness
of experiments, may enter into a more reliable
and sound partnership with things by, as
it were, a certain literate experience. For
in this way the intellect is both set up
in safety and in its best state, and it will
besides be at the ready and then come upon
harvests of useful things.
Now the beginnings of this enterprise must
in general be drawn from natural history;
for the whole body of Greek philosophy with
its sects of all kinds, and all the other
philosophy we possess seem to me to be founded
on too narrow a natural-historical basis,
and thus to have delivered its conclusions
on the authority of fewer data than was appropriate.
For having snatched certain things from experience
and tradition, things sometimes not carefully
examined or ideas nor securely established,
they leave the rest to meditation and intellectual
agitation, employing Dialectic inspire greater
confidence in the matter.
But the chemists and the whole pack of mechanics
and empirics, should they have the temerity
to attempt contemplation and philosophy,
being accustomed to meticulous subtlety in
a few things, they twist by extraordinary
means all the rest into conformity with them
and promote opinions more odious and unnatural
than those advanced by the very rationalists.
For the latter take for the matter of philosophy
very little out of many things, the former
a great deal out of a few, but in truth those
courses are weak and past cure. But the Natural
History which has been accumulated hitherto
may seem abundant on casual inspection, while
in reality it is sketchy and useless, and
not even of the kind I am seeking. For it
has not been stripped of fables and ravings,
and it rushes into antiquity, philology and
superfluous narratives, neglectful and high-handed
in matters of weight, overscrupulous and
immoderate in matters of no importance. But
the worst thing about this abundance is that
it has embraced the inquiry into things natural
but largely spurned that into things mechanical.
Now the latter are far better than the former
for examining nature's recesses; for nature
of its own accord, free and shifting, disperses
the intellect and confuses it with its variety,
but in mechanical operations the judgement
is concentrated, and we see nature's modes
and processes, not just its effects. Yet,
on the other hand, all the subtlety of mechanics
stops short of what I am seeking. For the
craftsman, intent on his work and its end,
does not direct his mind or put his hand
to other things, things which perhaps do
more for the inquiry into nature.
Therefore we need more meticulous care and
handpicked trials, not to mention funding
and the utmost patience besides. For it has
ruined everything in the experimental field
that right from the beginning men have continually
aimed at Experiments of Fruit not ones of
Light, and have devoted their energies entirely
to producing some splendid work, not to revealing
nature's oracles, which is the work of works
and encompasses in itself all power. It also
comes about from men's misguided conceit
that they have mostly applied themselves
to things hidden and rare, and put their
efforts and inquiry into those while spurning
common experiments and observations, and
this seems to have come about either because
they sought admiration and fame, or because
they fell for the belief that the function
of philosophy lies in accommodating and reducing
rarer events to those which occur familiarly,
not equally to unearthing the causes of these
common things themselves and deeper causes
of those causes.
But the main point of the whole accusation
against natural history is that men have
gone astray not only in the work, but in
its very plan. For the natural history which
is in existence seems to have been composed
either for the usefulness of the experiments
themselves, or for the agreeableness of their
narratives, and to have been made for their
own sake, not so as to furnish the makings
of philosophy and the sciences and as it
were breast-feed them.
Thus, as far as it is within my power, I
do not wish to fail to do my duty in this
matter. For I have long since decided how
much I should grant to abstract philosophies.
Indeed, I believe that I hold fast to the
ways of true and good induction, in which
all things lie, and which can help the frail
and crippled faculty of human intellect towards
the sciences, as by mechanical aids or by
some thread to guide it through a labyrinth.
Nor am I unaware that if I had been willing
to restrict that instauration of the sciences
which I have in mind to any of the greater
inventions, I could perhaps have harvested
a greater crop of honour. But since God has
given me a mind which knows how to submit
itself to things and which readily rejects
the specious out of a sense of what is right
and from confidence that things will turn
out well, I have also taken upon myself that
part of the work which I think others have
wanted either to avoid entirely, or to treat
in a way different from my idea of it.
But there are two things which I wish to
warn people about in this connection both
for the future and, since I am girding myself
for the very thing itself, for now especially.
The first is to get rid of that idea which,
though it be utterly false and harmful, easily
invades and takes hold of men's minds, namely
that the inquiry into particulars is something
infinite and without end, when it would be
truer to say that the way of opinions and
disputations is the trifling one; but in
fact these vain imaginings are condemned
to perpetual errors and infinite disturbances,
whereas particulars and the informations
of the sense (which, when individuals and
the gradations of things have been left out,
is sufficient for the inquiry into truth)
allow understanding for certain, and that,
to be sure, neither forlorn nor hopeless.
The second is that I would have men never
forget what is involved and, when they have
come across troops of thoroughly vulgar things,
things slight and to all appearances frivolous,
even vile, and which (as the man says) must
be brought in with an apology, they do not
think I am trifling, or reducing the human
mind to things beneath its dignity. For these
things are neither examined nor described
for their own sake, but in fact there is
simply no other alternative open to the human
intellect, and the grounds of the work are
left insecure without them. I am then certainly
undertaking the most serious business of
all and most worthy of the human mind, that
nature's light, pure and quite unclouded
by vain imagination (that light whose name
has sometimes been mentioned thus far, while
people have known nothing about the thing
itself), may be lit in this age of ours by
a torch furnished and brought near by the
Divine Will.
For I do not hide the fact that I believe
that preposterous subtlety of argument and
thought can by no means put things right
again, though all the intellects of all ages
be gathered together, when, at the proper
time, the subtlety and truth of the basic
information or true induction have been overlooked
or incorrectly established, but that nature,
like fortune, is long-haired at the front
and bald at the back. It remains, therefore,
for the matter to be attempted anew, and
that with better help and with the zeal of
opinions laid aside, so that we may enter
into the kingdom of philosophy and the sciences
(in which human power is situated, for nature
is conquered only by obeying it) in the way
that we gain access to the Kingdom of Heaven,
which none may enter save in the likeness
of a little child. Yet I do not wholly despise
the base and indiscriminate custom of working
by experiments themselves (for it may doubtless
suggest very many useful things to men's
knowledge and invention, according to the
variety of their arts and capacities), nevertheless
I think it is something very trivial in comparison
with that entrance into human knowledge and
power which I hope for from the Divine Mercy,
which indeed I again humbly beseech to allow
me to endow the human family with new alms
through my efforts.
The nature of things is either free, as in
species, or disturbed, as in monsters, or
confined, as in experiments of the Arts;
yet its deeds of whatever kind are worthy
of report and history. But the History of
Species currently available, as for example
of plants, animals, and fossils, is puffed
up and full of curiosities; the History of
Marvels empty and based on rumour; the History
of Experiments detective, attempted piecemeal,
dealt with carelessly, and entirely for practical
not philosophical use.
Therefore it is my resolve to curb the History
of Species, to shake our and purify the History
of Marvels, but to our special effort into
Mechanical and Artificial Experiments where
nature gives in to human intervention. For
what are the sports and frivolities of nature
to us? That is, the tiny differences of species
as to shape, which contribute nothing to
works but in which Natural History none the
less abounds. Now knowledge of Marvels certainly
pleases me, if it be purified and sifted;
but why in the final analysis is it pleasing?
Not for the fun of being astonished, but
because it often reminds Art of its duty
to lead nature knowingly where it has itself
sometimes gone before of its own accord.
In general I assign the leading roles in
shedding light on nature to artificial things,
not only because they are most useful in
themselves, but because they are the most
trustworthy interpreters of natural things.
Can it be said that anyone had just happened
to explain the nature of lightning or a rainbow
as clearly before the principles of each
had been demonstrated by artillery or the
artificial simulacra of rainbows on a wall?
But if they are trustworthy interpreters
of causes, they will also be sure and fertile
indicators of effects and of works. However,
I do not think it appropriate to divide my
history in accordance with this threefold
partition, so as to deal with singular instances
separately, but I shall mix the three kinds,
joining things natural with artificial. ordinary
with extraordinary, and paying very close
attention to all the most useful ones.
Now it would be more usual to begin with
the phenomena of the ether. But I, sacrificing
nothing of the seriousness of my undertaking,
shall give priority to things which make
up and answer to a nature more general, in
which both globes share. I shall begin in
fact with a history of bodies according to
the difference which seems the simplest,
that is, the abundance or paucity of the
matter contained and spread out within the
same space or boundaries, seeing indeed that
none of the pronouncements about nature is
truer than that double proposition. Nothing
comes from nothing, nor is anything reduced
to nothing, but the very quantum of nature,
or the whole sum of matter always remains
and stays the same, and is in no way increased
or diminished. Moreover, it is no less certain.
even though not so clearly noted or asserted
(whatever stories people make up about the
impartial potential of matter towards forms)
that more or less of this quantity of matter
is contained in the same volumes of space
according to the diversity of the bodies
which occupy them, bodies some of which we
find to be very obviously more compact, others
more extended or diffuse. For a vessel or
cauldron filled with water and air does not
hold an equal portion of matter, but more
of the one and less of the other. Therefore
if someone claimed that a given amount of
water could be made from the same amount
of air, it would be the same as saying that
something can come from nothing. For what
you deem to be lacking from the quantity
of matter would have to have been made up
from nothing. On the other hand, if someone
claimed that a given amount of water could
be turned into the same amount of air, it
would be the same as saying that something
can be reduced to nothing. For what you deem
to be extra in the quantity of matter would
likewise have to have vanished into nothingness.
There is no doubt in my mind that this business
is capable of being reduced to calculation,
to indefinite proportions perhaps in some
things, but to ones precise and certain in
others, and known to nature. As, for example,
if someone said that the concentration of
matter in a body of gold exceeded than of
a body of spirit of wine by a factor of twenty
to one or thereabouts, he would nor be wrong.
So as I now mean to present the history I
mentioned concerning the abundance and paucity
of matter, and its coming together and expansion,
things from which the notions of Dense and
Rare (if properly understood) take their
origin, I shall so order matters that I shall
draw up the relative figures for different
bodies (as of gold, water, oil, air and flame)
first. Then after examining these, I shall
record with calculations or ratios the retreats
and expatiations of each particular body.
For a given body, even without anything being
added to it or taken away, or at least nor
in proportion to its contraction and extension,
allows itself to be gathered by various impulses
both external and internal into a larger
or smaller sphere. Sometimes the body struggles
and strives to restore itself into its old
sphere, sometimes it clearly goes beyond
that and does not try to revert. Here I shall
first record the courses, differences and
proportions of any natural body (as to its
extent) compared with its openings and closings
up, that is, with its powders, its calces,
its virrifications, its dissolutions, its
distillations, vapours and breaths, its exhalations
and inflammations; then I shall set out the
actions and motions themselves, the progressions
and the limits of contraction and dilatation,
and when bodies restore themselves and when
they go beyond than in respect of their extent;
but I shall especially note the efficient
causes and media by means of which such contractions
and dilatations of bodies come about; and
meanwhile I shall in passing append the virtues
and actions which bodies get and take on
from such compressions and dilatations.
And since I know well how difficult a thing
it is, in the present climate of opinion,
to familiarise oneself with nature right
from the very beginning, I shall add my own
observations to gain men's attention and
arouse them to contemplation. Now as far
as the demonstration or revealing of the
density and rarity of bodies is concerned,
I have no doubt or hesitation that as to
dense and palpable bodies the motion of gravity
(as they call it) may be taken as the best
and most ready test, for the more compact
the body, the heavier it is. But when it
comes to the level of airy and spiritual
things, then scales will for sure be of no
use to me, and I shall need another kind
of industry. I shall begin, however, with
Gold: which of all the things we have (for
philosophy has nor grown up enough for us
to say anything for certain about the bowels
of the Earth) is the heaviest and contains
the most matter in the smallest space, and
I shall relate the ratios of the rest to
the sphere of this body, with the reminder
that I am not dealing here with the history
of weights except in so far as it sheds light
for demonstrating the space or dimensions
of bodies. ...
Natural History for the Building Up of Philosophy,
1609, 19th Century English edition; first
5 pages from the Preface.
|
Evans Experientialism 
THE ESSAYS OF FRANCIS BACON
