The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakspere Unfolded Part 14

'Now, therefore, that we have spoken of this FRUIT of LIFE, it remaineth to speak of the HUSBANDRY that belongeth thereunto, without which part the former seemeth to be no better than a fair image or statue, which is beautiful to contemplate, but is without life and motion.'

But as this author is very far, as he confesses, from wishing to clothe himself with the honors of an Innovator,--such honors as awaited the Innovator in that time,--but prefers always to sustain himself with authority from the past, though at the expense of that l.u.s.tre of novelty and originality, which goes far, as he acknowledges, in establishing new opinions,--adopting in this precisely the practices, and, generally, to save trouble, the quotations of that other philosopher, so largely quoted here, who frankly gives his reasons for _his_ procedure, confessing that he pinches his authors a little, now and then, to make them speak to the purpose; and that he reads them with his pencil in his hand, for the sake of being able to produce respectable authority, grown gray in trust, with the moss of centuries on it, for the views which he has to set forth; culling bits as he wants them, and putting them together in his mosaics as he finds occasion; so now, when we come to this so important part of the subject, where the want is so clearly reported--where the scientific innovation is so unmistakeably propounded--we find ourselves suddenly involved in a storm of Latin quotations, all tending to prove that the thing was perfectly understood among the ancients, and that it is as much as a man's scholarship is worth to call it in question. The author marches up to the point under cover of a perfect cannonade of cla.s.sics, no less than five of the most imposing of the Greek and Latin authors being brought out, for the benefit of the stunned and bewildered reader, in the course of one brief paragraph, the whole concluding with a reference to the Psalms, which n.o.body, of course, will undertake to call in question; whereas, in cases of ordinary difficulty, a proverb or two from Solomon is thought sufficient.

For this last writer, with his practical inspiration--with his aphorisms, or 'dispersed directions,' which the author prefers to a methodical discourse, as they best point to action--with his perpetual application of divinity to matters of common life, and to the special and respective duties, this, of all the sacred writers, is the one which he has most frequent occasion to refer to; and when, in his chapter on Policy, he brings out openly his proposal to invade the every-day practical life of men, in its apparently most unaxiomatical department, with his scientific rule of procedure--a proposal which he might not have been 'so prosperously delivered of,' if it had been made in any less considerate manner--he stops to produce whole pages of solid text from this so unquestionably conservative authority, by way of clearing himself from any suspicion of innovation.

First, then, in setting forth this so novel opinion of his, that the doctrine of the FRUIT of LIFE should include not the scientific platform of good, and its degrees and kinds only,--not the doctrine of the ideal excellence and felicity only, but the doctrine--the scientific doctrine--the scientific art of the Husbandry thereunto;--in setting forth the opinion, that that first _part_ of moral science is _but a part of it_, and that as human nature is const.i.tuted, it is not enough to have a doctrine of good in its perfection, and the divinest exemplars of it; first of all he produces the subscription of no less a person than Aristotle, whose conservative faculties had proved so effectual in the dark ages, that the opinion of Solomon himself could hardly have been considered more to the purpose. 'In such full words,' he says; and seeing that the advancement of Learning has already taken us on to a place where the opinions of Aristotle, at least, are not so binding, we need not trouble ourselves with that long quotation now--'in such full _words_, and with such _iteration_, doth he inculcate this part, so saith _Cicero_ in great commendation of _Cato_ the second, that he had applied himself to philosophy--"_Non ita disputandi causa, sed ita vivendi_." And although the neglect of our times, wherein few men do hold any consultations touching _the reformation of their_ LIFE, as _Seneca_ excellently saith, "De partibus vitae, quisque deliberat, de summa nemo," may make this part seem superfluous, yet I must conclude with that aphorism of _Hippocrates_, "Qui gravi morbo correpti dolores non sentiunt, iis mens aegrotat"; they need medicines not only to a.s.suage the disease, but _to awake the sense_.

'And if it be said _that the cure of men's minds belongeth to sacred divinity_, it is most true; but _yet_ Moral Philosophy'--that is, in _his_ meaning of the term, Moral _Science_, the new science of nature--'may be _preferred unto her, as a wise servant_ and humble handmaid. For, as _the Psalm saith_, that "the eye of the handmaid looketh perpetually towards the mistress," and yet, _no doubt, many things are left to the discretion of the handmaid_, to discern of the _mistress's will_; so ought moral philosophy to give _a constant attention to the doctrines of divinity_, and yet so as it may yield of herself, within due limits, many sound and profitable directions.'

_That_ is the doctrine. _That_ is the position of the New Science in relation to divinity, as defined by the one who was best qualified to place it--that is the mission of the New Science, as announced by the new Interpreter of Nature,--the priest of her ignored and violated laws,--on whose work the seal of that testimony which he challenged to it has already been set--on whose work it has already been written, in the large handwriting of that Providence Divine, whose benediction he invoked, 'accepted'--accepted in the councils from which the effects of life proceed.

'This part, therefore,' having thus defined his position, he continues, 'because of the _excellency thereof_, I cannot but find it EXCEEDING STRANGE that it is not reduced _to written inquiry_; the rather because it consisteth of much matter, wherein _both speech and action is often conversant_, and such wherein the common talk of men, _which is rare_, but yet cometh sometimes to pa.s.s, is _wiser than their books_. It is reasonable, therefore, that we propound it with the more particularity, both for the worthiness, and _because we may acquit ourselves for reporting it deficient_' [with such 'iteration and fulness,' with all his _discrimination_, does he contrive to make _this_ point]; 'which seemeth _almost incredible_, and is otherwise conceived--[note it]--and is otherwise conceived and _presupposed_ by those themselves that have written.' [They do not see that they have missed it.] 'We will, therefore, enumerate some HEADS or POINTS _thereof, that it may appear the better what it is_, and __whether it be extant_.'

A momentous question, truly, for the human race. That was a point, indeed, for this reporter to dare to make, and insist on and demonstrate. Doctrines of THE FRUIT of LIFE--doctrines of its perfection, exemplars of it; but no science--no science of the Culture or the Husbandry thereunto--though it is otherwise conceived and presupposed by those who have written! Yes, that is the position; and not taken in the general only, for he will proceed to propound it with more particularity--he will give us the HEADS of it--he will proceed to the articulation of that which is wanting--he will put down, before our eyes, the points and outlines of the new human science, the science of the husbandry thereto, both for the worthiness thereof, and that it may appear the better WHAT IT IS, and whether--WHETHER IT BE EXTANT. For who knows but it may be? Who knows, after all, but the points and outlines here, may prove but the track of that argument which the new Georgics will be able to hide in the play of their ill.u.s.tration, as Periander hid his? Who knows but the Naturalist in this field was then already on the ground, making his collections? Who knows but this new Virgil, who thought little of that resplendent and l.u.s.trous ma.s.s of matter, that old poets had taken for their glory, who seized the common life of men, and not the ideal life only, for his theme--who made the relief of the human estate, and not glory, his end, but knew that he might promise himself a fame which would make the old heroic poets' crowns grow dim,--who knows but that _he_--he himself--is extant, contemplating his theme, and composing its Index--claiming as yet its INDEX only? Truly, if the propounder of this argument can in any measure supply the _defects_ which he outlines, and opens here,--if he can point out to us any new and worthy collections in that science for which he claims to break the ground--if he can, in any measure, const.i.tute it, he will deserve that name which he aspired to, and for which he was willing to renounce his own, 'Benefactor of men,' and not of an age or nation.

But let us see where this new science, and scientific art of human culture begins,--this science and art which is to differ from those which have preceded it, as the other Baconian arts and sciences which began in the new doctrine of nature, differed from those which preceded them.

'FIRST, therefore, in this, _as in all things which are practical_, we ought to cast up our account, WHAT is IN OUR POWER, AND WHAT NOT? FOR the one may be dealt with by way of ALTERATION, but the other by way of APPLICATION _only_. The husbandman cannot command either the _nature of the earth or the seasons_ of the weather, no more can the physician _the const.i.tution of the patient_, and the _variety of accidents._ So in the CULTURE and CURE of THE MIND of MAN _two things_ are without our command, POINTS OF NATURE, and POINTS of FORTUNE: for to the basis of the one, and the conditions of the other, our work is limited and tied.' That is the first step: that is where the NEW begins. There is no science or art till that step is taken.

'_In these things_, therefore, it is left unto us to proceed by APPLICATION. Vincenda est omnis fortuna ferendo: and so likewise--Vincenda est omnis natura ferendo. But when we speak of suffering, we do not speak of a _dull neglected suffering_, but of _a wise and industrious suffering_, which draweth and contriveth _use and advantage out of that which seemeth adverse and contrary_, which is that properly which we call _accommodating_ or _applying_. ["Sweet are the uses of it," and "blest" indeed are they who can translate the _stubbornness_ of fortune into so quiet and so sweet a style.]

'Now the wisdom of APPLICATION resteth _princ.i.p.ally_ in the _exact and distinct knowledge of the precedent state or disposition, unto which we do apply_.'--[This is the process which the Novum Organum sets forth with so much care], 'for we cannot fit a garment, except we first take the measure of the body.'

So then THE FIRST ARTICLE OF THIS KNOWLEDGE is--what?--'to set down _sound_ and _true distributions_ and _descriptions_ of THE SEVERAL CHARACTERS AND TEMPERS of MEN'S NATURES and DISPOSITIONS, specially having regard to _those differences_ which are most _radical_, in being the fountains and causes of the rest, _or_ most frequent in _concurrence_ or commixture (not _simple_ differences merely, but the most frequent conjunctions), wherein it is not the handling of a few of them, in pa.s.sage, the better to describe the _mediocrities_ of _virtues_, that can satisfy this intention'; and he proceeds to introduce a few points, casually, as it were, and by way of ill.u.s.tration, but the rule of interpretation for this digest of learning, in this press of method is, that such points are _never_ casual, and usually of primal, and not secondary import; 'for if it deserve to be considered that there _are_ minds which are proportioned to great matters, and _others_ to small, which Aristotle handleth, or ought to have handled, by the name of _magnanimity_, doth it not deserve as well to be considered, that there are minds proportioned to intend many matters, and _others to few_?' So that some can _divide themselves_, others can perchance do exactly well, but it must be in few things at once; and so there cometh to be a narrowness of mind, _as well as a_ PUSILLANIMITY. And again, 'that some minds are proportioned to that which may be despatched at once, or within a _short return of time_; others to that _which begins afar off_, and is to be won with length of pursuit.

Jam tum tenditque fovetque.

'So that there may be fitly said to be a _longanimity_, which is commonly also ascribed to G.o.d as a _magnanimity_.' Undoubtedly, he considers this one of those differences in the natures and dispositions of men, that it is most important to note, otherwise it would not be inserted here. 'So farther deserved it to be considered by Aristotle that there is a disposition in conversation, supposing it in things which do in no sort touch or concern a man's self, _to soothe and please_; and a disposition contrary to contradict and cross; and deserveth it not much better to be considered that there is a disposition, not in conversation, or talk, but _in matter of more serious nature_, and supposing it still in things _merely indifferent_, to take pleasure in the good of another, and a disposition contrariwise to take distaste at the good of another, which is that _properly_ which we call _good-nature_, or _ill-nature_, benignity or malignity.' Is not this a field for science, then, with such differences as these lying on the surface of it,--does not it begin to open up with a somewhat inviting aspect? This so remarkable product of nature, with such extraordinary 'differences' in him as these, is he the only thing that is to go without a scientific history, all wild and unbooked, while our philosophers are weeping because 'there are no more worlds to conquer,' because every stone and sh.e.l.l and flower and bird and insect and animal has been dragged into the day and had its portrait taken, and all its history to its secretest points scientifically detected?

'And therefore,' says this organizer of the science of nature, who keeps an eye on practice, in _his_ speculations, and recommends to his followers to observe his lead in that respect, at least, until the affairs of the world get a little straighter than they were in his time, and there is leisure for _mere_ speculation,--'And, therefore,'

he resumes, having noted these remarkable differences in the natural and original dispositions of men,--and certainly there is no more curious thing in science than the points noted, though the careful reader will observe that they are not curious merely, but that they slant in one direction very much, and towards a certain kind of practice. 'And, therefore,' he resumes, noticing that fact, 'I _cannot sufficiently marvel_, that this part of knowledge, touching the _several characters_ of _natures_ and _dispositions_ should be omitted _both_ in MORALITY and POLICY, considering that it is of _so great_ ministry and suppeditation to them BOTH.' ['The _several characters_.'

The range of difference is limited. They are comprehensible within a science, as the differences in other species are. No wonder, then, 'that he cannot sufficiently marvel that this part of knowledge should be omitted.'] But in neither of these two departments, which he here marks out, as the ultimate field of the naturalist, and his arts, in neither of them unfortunately, lies the practice of mankind, as yet so wholly recovered from that 'lameness,' which this critical observer remarked in it in his own time, that these observations have ceased to have a practical interest.

And having thus ventured to express his surprise at this deficiency, he proceeds to note what only indications he observes of any work at all in this field, and the very quarters he goes to for these little accidental hints and beginnings of such a science, show how utterly it was wanting in those grandiloquent schools of philosophic theory, and those magisterial chairs of direction, which the author found in possession of this department in his time.

'A man shall find in the traditions of ASTROLOGY, some pretty and apt _divisions of men's natures_,'--so in the discussions which occur on this same point in Lear, where this part of philosophy comes under a more particular consideration, and the great ministry which it would yield to morality and policy is suggested in a different form, this same reference to the astrological observations repeatedly occurs. The Poet, indeed, discards the astrological _theory _of these natural differences in the dispositions of men, but is evidently in favour of an observation, and inquiry of some sort, into the second causes of these 'sequent effects,' and an anatomy of the living subject is in one case suggested, by a person who is suffering much from the deficiencies of science in this field, as a means of throwing light on it. 'Then let Regan be anatomised.' For in the _Play_,--in the poetic impersonation, which has a scientific purpose for its object, the historical extremes of these natural differences are touched, and brought into the most vivid dramatic oppositions; so as to force from the lips of the by-standers the very inquiries and suggestions which are put down here; so as to wring from the broken hearts of men--tortured and broken on the wheel, which 'blind men' call fortune,--tortured and broken on the rack of an unlearned and barbaric human society,--or, from hearts that do not break with anything that such a world can do, the imperious direction of the new science.

'Then let Regan be anatomised, and _see_ what it is that breeds about her heart.' He has asked already, 'What is the cause of thunder?' But '_his_ philosopher' must not stop there. 'Is there any _cause_--is there any cause _in nature_ that makes these hard hearts?'--

It is _the stars_!

The stars above us govern our conditions, Else one self mate and mate could not beget Such different issues.

'A man shall find in the traditions of astrology some pretty and apt _divisions of men's natures_,' ('let them be _anatomised_,' he, too, says,) 'according to the _predominance_ of the _planets_;' (this is the '_spherical predominance_,' which _Edmund_ does not believe in)--'_lovers_ of quiet, _lovers_ of action, _lovers_ of victory, _lovers_ of honour, _lovers_ of pleasure, _lovers_ of arts, _lovers_ of _change_, and so forth.' And here, also, is another very singular quarter to go to for a science which is so radical in morality; here is a place, where men have empirically hit upon the fact that it has some relation to policy. 'A man shall find in the wisest sorts of these relations which the _Italians_ make touching conclaves, the natures of the several _Cardinals_, handsomely and livelily painted forth';--and what he has already said in the general, of this department, he repeats here under this division of it, that the conversation of men in respect to it, is in advance of their books;--'a man shall meet with, in every day's conference, the denominations of sensitive, dry, formal, real, humorous, "huomo di prima impressione, huomo di ultima impressione, and the like": but this is no subst.i.tute for science in a matter so radical,'--'and yet, nevertheless, _this observation, wandereth in words_, but is not _fixed in inquiry_. For the _distinctions_ are found, many of them, but we conclude _no precepts_ upon them'; it is induction then that we want here, after all--_here_ also--here as elsewhere: 'the distinctions are found, many of them, but we _conclude no precepts_ upon them: wherein our fault is the greater, because both HISTORY, POESY, and DAILY EXPERIENCE, _are as goodly fields where these observations grow_; whereof we make a few poesies to hold in our hands, but no man bringeth them to the confectionery that _receipts_ might be made of them for the use of life.'

How could he say _that_, when there was a man then alive, who was doing in all respects, the very thing which he puts down here, as the thing which is to be done, the thing which is of such radical consequence, which is the beginning of the new philosophy, which is the beginning of the new _reformation_; who is making this very point in that science to which the others are subordinate?--how could he say it, when there was a man then alive, who was ransacking the daily lives of men, and putting all history and poesy under contribution for these very observations, one, too, who was concluding precepts upon them, bringing them to the confectionery, and composing receipts of them for the use of life; a scholar who did not content himself with merely _reporting_ a deficiency so radical as this, in the human life; a man who did not think, apparently, that he had fulfilled _his_ duty to his kind, by composing a paragraph on this subject.

And how comes it--how comes it that he who is the first to discover this so fatal and radical defect in the human science, has himself failed to put upon record any of these so vital observations? How comes it that the one who is at last able to put his finger on the spot where the mischief, where all the boundless mischief, is at work here,--where the cure must begin, should content himself with observations and collections in physical history _only_? How comes it that the man who finds that all the old philosophy has failed to become operative for the lack of this historical basis, who finds it so '_exceeding strange_, so _incredible_,' who 'cannot sufficiently marvel,' that these observations should have been omitted in this science, heretofore,--the man who is so sharp upon Aristotle and others, on account of this incomprehensible oversight in their ethics,--_is himself guilty of this very thing_? And how will this defect in _his_ work, compare with that same defect which he is at so much pains to note and describe in the works of others--others who did not know the value of this history? And how can he answer it to his kind, that with the views he has dared to put on record here, of the relation, the _essential_ relation, of this knowledge to human advancement and relief, _he himself has done nothing at all to const.i.tute it, except to write this paragraph_.

And yet, by his own showing, the discoverer of this field was himself the man to make collections in it; for he tells us that accidental observations are not the kind that are wanted here, and that the truth of direction must precede the severity of observation. Is this so?

Whose note book is it then, that has come into our hands, with the rules and plummet of the new science running through it, where all the observation takes, spontaneously, the direction of this new doctrine of nature, and brings home all its collections, in all the l.u.s.tre of their originality, in all their multiplicity, and variety, and comprehension, in all the novelty and scientific rigour of their exactness, into the channels of these _defects_ of learning? And who was he, who thought there were more things in heaven and earth, than were dreamt of in old philosophies, who kept his tables always by him for open questions? and whose tablets--whose many-leaved tablets, are they then, that are tumbled out upon us here, glowing with 'all saws, all forms, all pressures past, that youth and observation copied there.' And if aphorisms are made out of the pith and heart of sciences, if 'no man can write good aphorisms who is not sound and grounded,' what Wittenberg, what University was he bred in?

Till now there has been no man to claim this new and magnificent collection in natural science: it is a legacy that came to us without a donor;--this new and vast collection in natural history, which is put down here, all along, as _that which is wanting_--as that which is wanting to the science of man, to the science of his advancement to his place in nature, and to the perfection of his form,--as that which is wanting to the science of the larger wholes, and the art of their conservation. There was no _man_ to claim it, for the _boast_, the very boast made on behalf of the thing for whom it was claimed--was-- he _did not know it was worth preserving_!--he _did not know_ that this ma.s.s of new and profoundly scientific observation--this so new and subtle observation, so artistically digested, with all the precepts concluded on it, strewn, crowded everywhere with those aphorisms, those axioms of practice, that are made out of the pith and heart of sciences--he did not know it was of any value! That is his history. That is the sum of it, and surely it is enough. Who, that is himself at all above the condition of an oyster, will undertake to say, deliberately and upon reflection, that it is not? So long as we have that one fact in our possession, it is absurd, it is simply disgraceful, to complain of any deficiency in this person's biography.

There is enough of it and to spare. With that fact in our possession, we ought to have been able to dispense long ago with some, at least, of those details that we have of it. The only fault to be found with the biography of this individual as it stands at present is, that there is too much of it, and the public mind is labouring under a plethora of information.

If that fact be not enough, it is our own fault and not the author's.

He was perfectly willing to lie by, till it was. He would not take the trouble to come out for a time that had not studied his philosophy enough to find it, and to put the books of it together.

Many years afterwards, the author of this work on the Advancement of Learning, saw occasion to recast it, and put it in another language.

But though he has had so long a time to think about it, and though he does not appear to have taken a single step in the interval, towards the supplying of this radical deficiency in human science; we do not find that his views of its importance are at all altered. It is still the first point with him in the scientific culture of human nature,--the first point in that Art of Human Life, which is the end and term of _Natural Philosophy_, as _he_ understands the limits of it. We still find the first Article of the Culture of the Mind put down, 'THE DIFFERENT NATURES OR DISPOSITIONS OF MEN,' _not the vulgar propensities_ to VIRTUES and VICES--note it--'or perturbations and pa.s.sions, but of such as are _more internal and radical_, which are generally neglected.' 'This is a study,' he says, which 'might afford GREAT LIGHT TO THE SCIENCES.' And again he refers us to the existing supply, such as it is, and repeats with some amplification, his previous suggestions. 'In astrological traditions, the natures and dispositions of men, are tolerably _distinguished_ according to the influence of the planets, where _some_ are said to be by nature formed for _contemplation, others_ for _war_, others for _politics_.'

Apparently it _would_ be 'great ministry to policy,' if one could get the occult sources of such differences as these, so as to be able to command them at all, in the culture of men, _or_ in the fitting of men to their places. 'But' he proceeds, 'so likewise among the _poets_ of all kinds, we _everywhere find_ characters of nature, though _commonly_ drawn with excess and _exceeding the limits of nature_.'

Here, too, the philosopher refers us again to the common discourse of men, as containing wiser observations on this subject, than their books. 'But much the best matter of all,' he says, 'for such a treatise, may be _derived from_ the more _prudent_ historians, and not so well from eulogies or panegyrics, which are usually written soon after the death of _an ill.u.s.trious person_, but much rather from a whole body of history, as often as such a person appears, for such an _inwoven_ account gives a better description than _panegyrics_.... But we do not mean that such characters should be received in ethics, as perfect civil images.' They are to be subjected to an artistic process, which will bring out the radical principles in the dispositions and tempers of men in general, as the material of inexhaustible varieties of combination. He will have these historic portraits merely 'for outlines and first draughts of the images themselves, which, being variously compounded and mixed, afford all kinds of portraits, so that an _artificial and accurate dissection_ may be made of MEN'S MINDS AND NATURES, and the _secret disposition of each particular man laid open_, that from the knowledge of the _whole_, the PRECEPTS _concerning the_ ERRORS of THE MIND may be MORE RIGHTLY FORMED.' Who did that very thing? Who was it that stood on the spot and put that design into execution?

But this is not all; this is only the beginning of the observation and study of _differences_. For he would have also included in it, 'those impressions of nature which are otherwise _imposed_ upon by the mind, by the s.e.x, AGE, COUNTRY, STATE OF HEALTH, MAKE OF BODY, as of beauty and deformity, and THE LIKE, which are inherent and not external:' and more, he will have included in it--in these _practical Ethics_ he will have included--'POINTS OF FORTUNE,' and the differences that they make; he will have _all the differences_ that this creature exhibits, under any conditions, put down; he will have his whole nature, so far as his history is able to show it, on his table; and not as it is exhibited accidentally, or spontaneously merely, but under the test of a studious inquiry, and essay; he will apply to it the trials and vexations of Art, and wring out its last confession. This is the practical doctrine of this species; this is what the author we have here in hand, calls the _science_ of it, or the beginning of its science. This is one of the _parts of science_ which he says is wanting. Let us follow his running glimpse of the points here, then, and see whether it is extant here, too, and whether there is anything to justify all this preparation in bringing it in, and all this exceeding marvelling at the want of it.

'And again _those differences_ which proceed from FORTUNE, as SOVEREIGNTY, n.o.bILITY, OBSCURE BIRTH, RICHES, WANT, MAGISTRACY, PRIVATENESS, PROSPERITY, ADVERSITY, constant fortune, variable fortune, rising _per saltum, per gradus_, and the like.' These are articles that he puts down for points in his _table of natural history_, points for the collection of instances; this is the tabular preparation for induction here; for he does not conclude his precepts on the popular, miscellaneous, accidental history. That will do well enough for books. It won't do to get out axioms of practice from such loose material. They have to ring with the proof of another kind of condensation. All _his_ history is artificial, prepared history more _select_ and _subtle_ and _fit_ than the other kind, he says,--prepared on purpose; perhaps we shall come across his tables, some day, with these very points on them, filled in with the observations of one, so qualified by the truth of direction to make them 'severe'. It would not be strange, for he gives us to understand that he is not altogether idle in this part of his Instauration, and that he does not think it enough to lay out work for others, without giving an occasional specimen of his own, of the thing which he notes as deficient, and proposes to have done, so that there may be no mistake about it as to what it really is; for he appears to think there is some danger of that. Even here, he produces a few ill.u.s.trations of his meaning, that it may appear the better what is, and whether it be extant.

'And therefore we see, that _Plautus_ maketh it a wonder to see an OLD man beneficent. _St. Paul_ concludeth that severity of _discipline_ was to be used to the _Cretans_, ("increpa eos dure"), upon _the disposition_ of THEIR COUNTRY. "Cretenses semper mendaces, malae bestize, ventres pigri." _Sall.u.s.t_ noteth that it is usual with KINGS to desire _contradictories_; "Sed plerumque, regiae voluntates, ut vehementes sunt sic mobiles saepeque ipsae sibi adversae." _Tacitus_ observeth how rarely THE RAISING OF THE FORTUNE mendeth the disposition. "Solus Vespasia.n.u.s mutatus in melius." _Pindar_ maketh an observation that great and sudden fortune for the most part defeateth men. So _the Psalm_ showeth it more easy to keep a measure in the enjoying of fortune, than in the increase of fortune; "Divitiae si affluant nolite cor apponere."' '_These observations, and the like_,'--what book is it that has so many of '_the like_'?--'I deny not but are touched a little by Aristotle _as in pa.s.sage_ in his _Rhetorics_, and are handled in some scattered discourses.' One would think it was another philosopher, with pretensions not at all inferior, but professedly very much, and altogether superior to those of Aristotle, whose short-comings were under criticism here; 'but they (_these observations_) were never INCORPORATED _into moral philosophy_, to which they do ESSENTIALLY appertain, as THE KNOWLEDGE of THE DIVERSITY of GROUND and MOULDS doth to _agriculture_, and the knowledge of the DIVERSITY of COMPLEXIONS and CONSt.i.tUTIONS doth to the _physician_; except'--note it--'except we mean to follow the indiscretion of empirics, which minister _the same medicines to all patients_.'

Truly this does appear to give us some vistas of a _science_, and a 'pretty one,' for these particulars and ill.u.s.trations are here, that we may see the better what it is, and whether it be extant. That is the question. And it happens singularly enough, to be a question just as pertinent now, as it was when the philosopher put it on his paper, two hundred and fifty years ago.

_There_ is the first point, then, in the table of this scientific history, with its subdivisions and articulations; and here is the second, not less essential. 'Another article of this knowledge is the inquiry touching THE AFFECTIONS; for, as in medicining the body,'--and it is a practical science we are on here; it is the cure of the mind, and not a word for show,--'as in medicining the body, it is in order, _first_, to know the divers complexions and const.i.tutions; secondly, the _diseases_; and, lastly, the _cures_; so in medicining of the mind,--after knowledge of the _divers characters_ of _men's natures_, it followeth, in order, to know the diseases and infirmities of the mind, which are no other than the perturbations and distempers of the affections.' And we shall find, under the head of the medicining of the body, some things on the subject of medicine in general, which could be better said _there_ than _here_, because the wrath of professional dignitaries,--the eye of the 'basilisk,' was not perhaps quite so terrible in that quarter then, as it was in some others. For though 'the Doctors' in that department, did manage, in the dark ages, to possess themselves of certain weapons of their own, which are said to have proved, on the whole, sufficiently formidable, they were not, as it happened, armed by the State as the others then were; and it was usually discretionary with the patient to avail himself, or not, of their drugs, and receipts, and surgeries; whereas, in the diseased and suffering soul, no such discretion was tolerated. The drugs were indeed compounded by the State in person, and the executive stood by, axe in hand, to see that they were taken, accompanying them with such other remedies as the case might seem to require; the most serious operations being constantly performed without ever taking 'the sense'

of the patient.

So we must not be surprised to find that this author who writes under such liabilities ventures to bring out the pith of his trunk of sciences,--that which sciences have in common,--the doctrine of the nature of things,--what he calls '_prima philosophia_,' when his learned sock is on--a little more strongly and fully in that branch of it, with a glance this way, with a distinct intimation that it is common to the two, and applies here as well. There, too, he complains of the ignorance of anatomy, which is just the complaint he has been making here, and that, for want of it, 'they quarrel many times with the humours which are not in fault, the fault being in the very frame and mechanic of the part, which cannot be removed by medicine _alterative_, but must be _accommodated_ and palliated by diet and medicines _familiar_.' There, too, he reports the lack of medicinal history, and gives directions for supplying it, just such directions as he gives here, but that which makes the astounding difference in the reading of these reports to-day, is, that the one has been accepted, and the other has not; nay, that the one has been _read_, and the other has not: for how else can we account for the fact, that men of learning, in our time, come out and tell us deliberately, not merely that this man's place in history, is the place of one who devoted his genius to the promotion of the personal convenience and bodily welfare of men, but, that it is the place of one who gave up the n.o.bler nature, deliberately, on principle, and after examination and reflection, as a thing past help from science, as a thing lying out of the range of philosophy? How else comes it, that the critic to-day tells us, dares to tell us, that this leader's word to the new ages of advancement is, that there is no scientific advancement to be looked for _here_?--how else could he tell us, with such vivid detail of ill.u.s.tration, that this innovator and proposer of advancement, never intended his Novum Organum to be applied to the _cure_ of the moral diseases, to the subduing of the WILL and the AFFECTIONS,--but thought, because the old philosophy had failed, there was no use in trying the new;--because the philosophy of words, and preconceptions, had failed, the philosophy of observation and application, the philosophy of ideas as they are in nature, and not as they are in the mind of man merely, the philosophy of _laws_, must fail also;--because ARGUMENT had failed, ART was hopeless;--because syllogisms, based on popular, unscientific notions were of no effect, _practical axioms_ based on the scientific knowledge of natural causes, and on their specific developments, were going to be of none effect also? If the pa.s.sages which are now under consideration, had been so much as _read_, how could a learned man, in our time, tell us that the author of the 'Advancement of Learning' had come with any such despairful word as that to us,--to tell us that the new science he was introducing upon this Globe theatre, the science of _laws_ in nature, offered to _Divinity_ and Morality no aid,--no ministry, no service in the _cure of the mind_? And the reason why they have not been read, the reason why this part of the 'Advancement of Learning,' which is the princ.i.p.al part of it in the intention of its author, _has_ been overlooked hitherto is, that the Art of Tradition, which is described, here--the art of the Tradition, and delivery of knowledges which are foreign from opinions received, was in the hand of its inventor, and able to fulfil his pleasure.

After the knowledge of the divers characters of men's natures then, the next article of this inquiry is the DISEASES and INFIRMITIES of the MIND, which are no other than the perturbations and distempers of THE AFFECTIONS. For as the ancient politicians in popular estates were wont to compare the people to the sea, and the _orators_ to the winds, because the sea would of itself be calm and quiet, if the winds did not move and trouble it; _so_ the _people would be peaceable_ and _tractable_, if the _seditious orators did not set them in working and agitation_; so it may be fitly said, that the mind, in the nature thereof, would be _temperate_ and _stayed_, if _the affections_, as winds, did not put it into tumult and perturbation. And _here, again_, I find, _strange as before_, that _Aristotle_ should have written divers volumes of _Ethics_, and never handled THE AFFECTIONS, which is the _princ.i.p.al subject thereof_; and yet, in his _Rhetorics_, where they are considered but _collaterally_, and in a second degree, as they may be moved by speech, he findeth place for them, and handleth them well _for the quant.i.ty_, but where their _true place_ is, he _permitteth_ them. (Very much the method of procedure adopted by the philosopher who composes that criticism; who also finds a place for the affections in pa.s.sing, where they are considered collaterally, and in a second degree, and for the quant.i.ty, he handleth them well, and who knows how to bring his Rhetorics to bear on them, as well as the politicians in popular estates did of old, though for a different end; but where their true place is, he, too, _permitteth_ them; and, in his Novum Organum, he keeps so clear of them, and _permits_ them so fully, that the critics tell us he never meant it should touch them.) 'For it is not his disputations about pleasure and pain that can satisfy this inquiry, no more than he that should _generally_ handle the nature of light can be said to handle the nature of _colours_; for pleasure and pain are to the particular affections as light is to the particular colours.' Is not this a man for particulars, then? And when he comes to the practical doctrine,--to _the art_--to the knowledge, which is _power_,--will he not have particulars here, as well as in those other arts which are based on them? Will he not have particulars here, as well as in chemistry and natural philosophy, and botany and mineralogy; or, when it comes to practice here, will he be content, after all, with the old line of argument, and elegant disquisition, with the old generalities and subtleties of definition, which required no collection of particulars, which were independent of observation, or for which the popular accidental observation sufficed? 'Better travels, I suppose, had the Stoics taken in this argument, as far as I can gather by that which we have at secondhand. _But yet_ it is like it was after their manner, rather in subtlety of definitions, which, in a subject of this nature, are _but curiosities_, than _in_ ACTIVE _and_ AMPLE DESCRIPTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS. So, likewise, I find some particular writings of _an elegant nature_, touching some of the affections; as of anger, of comfort upon adverse accidents, of tenderness of countenance, and others.' And such writings were not confined to the ancients. Some of us have seen elegant writings of this nature, published under the name of the philosopher who composes this criticism, and suggests the possibility of essays of a more lively and _experimental_ kind, and who seems to think that the treatment should be _ample_, as well as _active_.

'_But_ the POETS and WRITERS of HISTORY are the best _Doctors_ of _this knowledge_, where we may find, painted forth with great _life_, _how affections are kindled and incited_, and _how pacified_ and _refrained_;'--certainly, that is the kind of learning we want here:--'and how, again, contained from _act_ and _further degree_'--very useful knowledge, one would say, and it is a pity it should not be 'diffused,' but it is not every poet who can be said to have it;--'_how_ they disclose themselves--_how_ they work--how they vary;'--this is the science of them clearly, _whoever_ has it;--'how they gather and fortify--how they are _enwrapped one within another_;'--yes, there is one Poet, one Doctor of this science, in whom we can find _that_ also;--'and how they do fight and encounter one with another, and other like _particularities_.' We all know what Poet it is, to whose lively and ample descriptions of the affections and pa.s.sions--to whose _particularities_--that description best applies, and in what age of the world he lived; but no one, who has not first studied them as scientific exhibitions, can begin to perceive the force--the exclusive force--of the reference. 'Amongst the which, this last is of special _use_ in MORAL and CIVIL matters: _how_, I say, to _set affection against affection_, and to master one by another, even as we used to hunt beast with beast, and fly bird with bird, which otherwise, percase, we could not so easily recover.'

The Poet has not only exhibited this with very voluminous and lively details, but he, too, has concluded his precept;--

'One fire burns out another's burning'-- 'One desperate grief cures with another's languish'-- 'Take thou some new infection to thine eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.'

_Romeo and Juliet_.

'As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity; And pity to the _general wrong of Rome_ Hath, done this deed _on Caesar.'

_Julius Caesar_.

for it is the _larger_ form, which is the worthier, in that new department of mixed mathematics which this philosopher was cultivating.

'One fire drives out one fire, one nail one nail: Rights by rights fouler, strength by strengths do fail.'

_Coriola.n.u.s_.

And for history of _cases_, see the same author in Hamlet and other plays. [This philosopher's prose not unfrequently contains the key of the poetic paraphrase; and the true reading of the line, which has occasioned so much perplexity to the critics, may, perhaps, be suggested by this connection--'to set affection against affection, and to master one by another, even as we hunt beast with beast, and fly bird with bird.']

CHAPTER V.

THE SCIENCE OF MORALITY.--ALTERATION.