The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakspere Unfolded

'So that we are much beholden' he continues, 'to Machiavel and others that write what men do, and not what they ought to do, [perhaps he refers here to that writer before quoted, who writes, "others form men, —I report him"]; for it is not possible,' continues the proposer of the science of special duties of place, and vocation, and profession, 'the critic of this department, too, – it is not possible to join the serpentine wisdom with the columbine innocency, except men know exactly all the conditions of the serpent, – that is, all forms and natures of evil, for without this, virtue lieth open and un-fenced. Nay, an honest man can do no good upon those that are wicked, to reclaim them, without the help of the knowledge of evil: for men of corrupted minds pre-suppose that honesty groweth out of simplicity of manners, and believing of preachers, schoolmasters, and men's exterior language; so as, except you can make them perceive that you know the utmost reaches of their own corrupt opinions, they despise all morality.' A book composed for the express purpose of meeting the difficulty here alluded to, has been already noticed in the preceding pages, on account of its being one of the most striking samples of that peculiar style of tradition, which the advancement of Learning prescribes, and here is another, in which the same invention and discovery appears to be indicated: – 'Why I can teach you' – says a somewhat doubtful claimant to supernatural gifts:

'Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command
The devil.'
'And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil;
By telling truth;
If thou hast power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence:
Oh, while you live, TELL TRUTH.'

But this is the style, in which the one before referred to, falls in with the humour of this Advancer of Learning. 'As to the rest, I have enjoined myself to dare to say, all that I dare to do, and even thoughts that are not to be published, displease me. The worst of my actions and qualities do not appear to me so foul, as I find it foul and base not to dare to own them. Every one is wary and discreet in confession, but men ought to be so in action. I wish that this excessive license of mine, may draw men to freedom above these timorous and mincing pretended virtues, sprung from our imperfections, and that at the expense of my immoderation, I may reduce them to reason. A man must see and study his vice to correct it, they who conceal it from others, commonly conceal it from themselves and do not think it covered enough, if they themselves see it… the diseases of the soul, the greater they are, keep themselves the more obscure; the most sick are the least sensible of them: for these reasons they must often be dragged into light, by an unrelenting and pitiless hand; they must be opened and torn from the caverns and secret recesses of the heart.' 'To meet the Huguenots, who condemn our auricular and private confession, I confess myself in public, religiously and purely, – others have published the errors of their opinions, I of my manners. I am greedy of making myself known, and I care not to how many, provided it be truly; or rather, I hunger for nothing, but I mortally hate to be mistaken by those who happen to come across my name. He that does all things for honor and glory [as some great men in that time were supposed to], what can he think to gain by showing himself to the world in a mask, and by concealing his true being from the people? Commend a hunchback for his fine shape, he has a right to take it for an affront: if you are a coward, and men commend you for your valor, is it of you that they speak? They take you for another. Archelaus, king of Macedon, walking along the street, somebody threw water on his head; which they who were with him said he ought to punish, "Ay, but," said the other, "he did not throw the water upon me, but upon him whom he took me to be." Socrates being told that people spoke ill of him, "Not at all," said he, "there is nothing in me of what they say!" I am content to be less commended provided I am better known. I may be reputed a wise man, in such a sort of wisdom as I take to be folly.' Truly the Advancement of Learning would seem to be not all in the hands of one person in this time. It appears, indeed, to have been in the hands of some persons who were not content with simply propounding it, and noting deficiencies, but who busied themselves with actively carrying out, the precise plan propounded. Here is one who does not content himself with merely criticising 'professions and vocations' and suggesting improvements, but one who appears to have an inward call himself to the cure of diseases. Whoever he may be, and since he seems to care so very little for his name himself, and looks at it from such a philosophical point of view, we ought not, perhaps, to be too particular about it; whoever he may be, he is unquestionably a Doctor of the New School, the scientific school, and will be able to produce his diploma when properly challenged; whoever he may be, he belongs to 'the Globe' for the manager of that theatre is incessantly quoting him, and dramatizing his philosophy, and he says himself, 'I look on all men as my compatriots, and prefer the universal and common tie to the national.'

But in marking out and indicating the plan and method of the new operation, which has for its end to substitute a scientific, in the place of an empirical procedure, in the main pursuits of human life, the philosopher does not limit himself in this survey of the special social duties to the special duties of professions and vocations. 'Unto this part,' he says, 'touching respective duty, doth also appertain the duties between husband and wife, parent and child, master and servant: so likewise the laws of friendship and gratitude, the civil bond of companies, colleges, and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, and all other proportionate duties; not as they are parts of a government and society, but as to the framing of the mind of particular persons.'

The reader will observe, that that portion of moral philosophy which is here indicated, contains, according to this index, some extremely important points, points which require learned treatment; and in our further pursuit of this inquiry, we shall find, that the new light which the science of nature in general throws upon the doctrine of the special duties and upon these points here emphasized, has been most ably and elaborately exhibited by a contemporary of this philosopher, and in the form which he has so specially recommended, – with all that rhetorical power which he conceives to be the natural and fitting accompaniment of this part of learning. And the same is true also throughout of that which follows.

'The knowledge concerning good respecting society, doth handle it also not simply alone, but comparatively, whereunto belongeth the weighing of duties between person and person, case and case, particular and public: as we see in the proceeding of Lucius Brutus against his own sons, which was so much extolled, yet what was said?

Infelix utcunque ferent ea fata minores.

'So the case was doubtful, and had opinion on both sides. [So the philosopher on the mountain tells us, too, for his common-place book and this author's happen to be the same.] Again we see when M. Brutus and Cassius invited to a supper certain whose opinions they meant to feel, whether they were fit to be made their associates, and cast forth the question touching the killing of a tyrant, – being an usurper, —they were divided in opinion;' [this of itself is a very good specimen of the style in which points are sometimes introduced casually in passing, and by way of illustration merely] some holding that servitude was the extreme of evils, and others that tyranny was better than a civil war; and this question also our philosopher of the mountain has considered very carefully from his retreat, weighing all the pros and cons of it. And it is a question which was treated also, as we all happen to know, in that other form of writing for which this author expresses so decided a preference, in which the art of the poet is brought in to enforce and impress the conclusion of the philosopher. Indeed, as we proceed further with the plan of this so radical part of the subject, we shall find, that the ground indicated has everywhere been taken up on the spot by somebody, and to purpose.

CHAPTER IV

THE SCIENCE OF MORALITY

Section II. – THE HUSBANDRY THEREUNTO; OR, THE CURE AND CULTURE OF THE MIND

'Tis an unweeded garden

That grows to seed – '

    Hamlet.

But we have finished now with what he has to say here of the EXEMPLAR or science of GOOD, and its kinds, and degrees, and the comparison of them, the good that is proper to the individual, and the good that includes society. He has found much fine work on that platform of virtue, and felicity, – excellent exemplars, the purest doctrine, the loftiest virtue, tried by the scientific standard. And though he has gone behind those popular names of vice and virtue, pain and pleasure, and the like, in which these doctrines begin, to the more simple and original forms, which the doctrine of nature in general and its laws supplies, for a platform of moral science, his doctrine is large enough to include all these works, in all their excellence, and give them their true place. A reviewer so discriminating, then, so far from that disposition to scorn and censure, which he reprehends, so careful to conserve that which is good in his scientific constructions and reformations, so pure in judgment in discovering and severing that which is corrupt, a reporter so clearly scientific, who is able to maintain through all this astounding report of the deficiences in human learning, a tone so quiet, so undemonstrative, such a one deserves the more attention when he comes now to 'the art and practic part' of this great science, to which all other sciences are subordinate, and declares to us that he finds it, as a part of science, 'WANTING!' not defective, but wanting.

'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 lustre 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 classics, 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 nobody, 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 constituted, 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 assuage 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 pass, 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 illustration, 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 lustrous mass 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, constitute 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 constitution 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 principally 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 passage, 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 illustration, 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 God 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 shell 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 substitute 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 constitute 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 lustre 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 mass 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 passions, 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 illustrious 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 SEX, 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, NOBILITY, 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 illustrations 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, malæ bestize, ventres pigri." Sallust noteth that it is usual with KINGS to desire contradictories; "Sed plerumque, regiæ voluntates, ut vehementes sunt sic mobiles saepeque ipsæ sibi adversæ." Tacitus observeth how rarely THE RAISING OF THE FORTUNE mendeth the disposition. "Solus Vespasianus 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; "Divitiæ 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 passage 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 CONSTITUTIONS 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 illustrations 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.