Chapter IV: Part 4

LXXXVII. It is much to be lamented, that those who are called professors in the schools, do not know more of the nature of things than the vulgar. But what would you think, if I was to say now, they know even less? It would seem, as if I was advancing an extravagant paradox; but notwithstanding this, I assert that the proposition is a most true one, and may be easily proved; for as experience is the only channel, through which a knowledge of nature can be conveyed; they must have the best experimental knowledge of natural things, who in various mechanical occupations, work up various natural entities; and not those who amuse themselves with speculations, and live retired in schools. A fisherman, knows something of the properties of fish; a pilot, of the winds and the tides; a sportsman, of birds and wild animals; and a husbandman, of the generation and increase of plants. But what does the philosopher know? why, he knows how to raise doubts about every thing, and that is all. Thus the school of physics is a theatre, where people are taught to doubt without end. I say without end, because it is scarce possible the period should ever arrive, when they will be able to pass from doubt to certainty. This may be clearly inferred, by their disputing at this day with the same obstinacy, the same questions they disputed two hundred years ago. If any elucidation, or certain knowledge, has been acquired with respect to here and there a physical theorem, we are not indebted for it to the schools, but owe it to the benefit of experience, which comes from the world at large. We may thank the experiments of Torriceli, Monsieur Pascal, Otho Guerricus, and Boyle, for our knowledge that the air is ponderous. If we are certain, that the blood circulates from the heart through the arteries, and is returned by the veins, we owe the discovery to the anatomical observations of Peter Paul Sarpi and William Harvey. If we are clear, that the chyle is not conveyed to the liver, but to the heart; what ascertained this truth, but the diligent and practical scrutinies of John Paqueto, Thomas Bartolino, and the Englishman Lowther? Experience has been the only arbitrator, which has settled some disputes, and banished certain errors from the schools; and wherever matters have been left to speculation and reasoning, the suit still remains depending and undetermined. One age and another passes away, and the world during the whole time, has been accustomed to hear the same vociferations, the same arguments, and the same distinctions; and has seen the obstinacy of the contending parties, transferred, as if it were by hereditary succession, from professor to professor, without the least prospect, either of victory or reconciliation.

SECT. XXIV.

LXXXVIII. From this known ignorance of ours, we may deduce a very useful reflexion, which is, to be firm and steady in observing a due subjection to the sacred dogmas of faith. The inordinate confidence we place in our own reason, is a great enemy to religion. He who estimates his own understanding at an excessive high rate, rests his faith on the edge of a precipice; for this vanity has shewn itself very glaringly, in all the heresies we ever knew. In their pursuits of other vices, mankind have taken different turns, but in this they have been all uniform; for although they have neither been all lascivious, nor all covetous, nor all ambitious; still in this instance, they have all presumed much on their own understanding. And what can be a more efficacious antidote against this mad presumption, than reflecting upon the little or nothing, we have been able to discover in matters of philosophy? how can he, who knows he cannot penetrate the misteries of nature, dare attempt fathoming those of grace? If he reflects, there will result from that reflexion, a distrust of his own reason, and he will submit himself obediently to authority. The philosopher Anaxagoras, whom on account of the extraordinary subtilty of his ingenuity, they by way of eminence, called the soul or spirit of antiquity, after having laboured with infinite industry in philosophy, said, that nature was all surrounded with clouds and darkness. _Anaxagoras pronuntiat circumfussa esse tenebris omnia._ (Lactant. lib. iii. Divin. Instit. cap. 28.) And I must observe, that this philosopher, who knew nature was impenetrable to his understanding, was the first of all the philosophers, if we believe Aristotle, Laertius, and Plutarch, who declared himself convinced of the indispensable necessity of a supreme intelligence, who must be the author and director of the whole. On the other hand, those who boasted, and flattered themselves that they had discovered all the mysteries and profundities of nature, for the most part, denied either the existence, or the providence of a deity.

LXXXIX. I can with truth say of myself, that next to the divine grace, a conviction of my own ignorance with regard to natural things, is the most powerful weapon I could ever discover, wherewith to overcome all those difficulties or objections, which natural reason suggests, against the mysteries of faith. I often say to myself, good God! how can I understand those wonders, which by using his extraordinary power, are wrought by the omnipotent hand, if I cannot comprehend, the common effects of his ordinary power? It is true, I am ignorant how, or by what means, a divine person can unite himself to human nature; but I am also ignorant, how a spiritual soul can be united to a material body. Notwithstanding which, this is a matter of fact, and happens within myself. Neither do I perceive, how the same water which falls from heaven, should be converted, not only into here and there a particular body, but into all the animal and vegetable substances upon earth. In the most plausible part of theological controversy, I find myself exceedingly embarrassed; for if I take the side of providence, I am assailed with the forcible arguments in favour of liberty; and if I put myself on the side of liberty, they wage powerful war against me with the arguments in favour of providence. But do not I see the same arguments, urged with greater vehemence, in the vulgar philosophical controversy respecting the composition and unity of universal space, in which, whatever sentiment is maintained, they instead of answering their opponents arguments, perplex the dispute with a multiplicity of words? If I defend, with Aristotle, the infinite divisibility of universal space, although to avoid being concluded, I don’t do it with my mouth, I cannot in my mind, help acknowledging the unity of a great number of its parts; and if with Zeno I acquiesce in the indivisibility, the mathematical arguments derived from the diagonal of a square, two concentric wheels united, and many other principles, not only leave me without an answer, but in a manner strike me dumb.

XC. I say again, if in those natural things that are open to our view, and which we touch with our hands every day, there occur a thousand difficulties, that are insuperable to, and beyond the reach of our understandings, have we not the greatest reason to suppose, that the same thing happens with respect to supernatural matters, they being totally superior to the sphere of our senses? If, maugre all my prying, I can’t perceive how God does an infinite number of things, which I see him do every day, would it not be madness in me, to deny or to doubt the existence of revealed things, only because I can’t descry how God executes those things?

If there was a man so short-sighted, that he could not see objects that were very near him, and should pretend that he saw those which were at the distance of a hundred miles from his eyes, or else should take it into his head to insist, that such objects, although they are well known to be _in esse_, do not exist, only because he can’t see them, would not all the world pronounce him a lunatic? This is exactly the same sort of madness as that of those who deny there are divine mysteries, only because they can’t comprehend or pry into them. Little vain stupid man, if the fabric of those material compositions which are ever before your eyes, and are at all times familiar to your touch, is totally impenetrable to your short and limited capacity, how can you expect to comprehend the ineffable manner, in which Omnipotence performs those supernatural wonders? You will tell me, that you can find no solution of the arguments, which the Gentile urges to you against the mystery of the Trinity, or against that of the Incarnation; and I answer, that neither can you find any, to those the philosopher urges against the composition of universal space, take which side of the question you will, and suppose it to be made up, of either divisible, or indivisible matter; but would you conclude from thence, that it is not composed of either one or the other? you certainly would not; and it would be equal, if not greater delirium, to deny the truth of those mysteries, only because you can’t answer, and remove the objections that are made to them. Is it fit, that an Infinite Power should proportion his works, to the limited measure of your understanding? or is it reasonable to suppose that God can do nothing, which you can’t comprehend?

XCI. No north wind, so quickly disperses the clouds which interrupt the rays of the sun, as these reflexions clear up the doubts, which natural reason opposes to the mysteries of faith. Leave then the presumptuous dogmatists to chew their scepticism, and to make the most of the objections it furnishes against religion. But the sort of scepticism, which is precisely limited and confined to physics, is so far from prejudicing faith, that it serves to confirm and rivet it; by removing the obstacles, which the presumption of natural reason throws in the way, to interrupt the effect of that humble docility, which is so necessary, to preserve the understanding in a due state of subjection to the authority of revelation.

XCII. Those men do great injury, not only to philosophy, but to the church also, who rashly endeavour, to interest the doctrine of revelation in the defence of their particular philosophical opinions. This the heretics lay hold of, to calumniate us with converting philosophical sentiments, into articles of faith; and by this artifice, they persuade their followers, that our belief is arduous, and unnecessarily complicated. Upon this presumption, some strangers found their assertions, when they accuse us of countenancing idiotism, and mixing it with religion. It is but a little while ago, that one of them declared in his writings, that the opinions of men in Spain were not more free, than their persons were in Turkey. In order to preserve a due respect for sacred things, it is necessary, not to confound them with profane ones; whoever should begin to erect habitations in temples, would be the author of temples losing that respectful reverence that ought to be preserved in them. There are judges appertaining to the church, whose province it is, to determine what doctrines are useful, what pernicious, and what indifferent. Let us then leave the decision of those matters to them, and don’t let those who sincerely seek the truth, be terrified and disturbed by those scare-crows that are set up by partiality and faction, and sometimes by the pride of those, who have given their names to particular schools, or by the envy of others, who could not arrive at doing so much.

SECT. XXV.

XCIII. We having shewn now, that we possess no physical science or demonstrative knowledge of natural things, we may entertain a reasonable doubt whether we shall ever be able to attain any such. The most learned Valles, is clear that we shall not; because physical knowledge is confined to singular things, and alledges that from singular things, you can’t derive a science. But as we have observed before, this argument is ill founded, and insufficient.

XCIV. We might lay more stress upon two authorities the sceptics alledge in their favour, which are taken from the Ecclesiastes. The first is from Chap. III. in these words. _Cuncta fecit bona in tempore suo, et mundum tradidit disputationi eorum, ut non inveniat homo opus, quod operatus est Deus ab initio usque ad finem._ The second is more formal and precise, and taken from Chap. VIII. _Et intellexi, quod omnium operum Dei nullam possit homo invenire rationem eorum, quæ sunt sub sole: et quantò plus laboraverit ad quærendum, tantò minus inveniat, etiamsi dixerit sapiens se nosse, non poterit reperire._ But in truth, these texts, when they affirm the impossibility of discovering the causes and reason of natural effects, may be understood to allude to the providential, and not to the natural or physical ones. In fact, this is the sense in which some fathers and expositors understand them.

XCV. Others again argue, that the desire of knowing the causes of natural effects, is natural to, and implanted in man by nature itself; and as a natural desire can’t prompt a man to an impossible inquiry, it follows, that attaining the science we are speaking of, is within the compass of possibility. To this argument, Valles replies, it is absolutely possible; and although not in this life, it is in that to come, at which period, the blessed will see with God all things most clearly. This solution is attended with the following difficulty, that a natural desire can’t be directed to an impossible object; neither can it terminate in a supernatural one; and the knowledge the blessed will have of supernatural things, must be entitively supernatural, because it will depend immediately on the light of glory. Upon the whole, we may suppose, that there may belong to the soul in a state of separation from the body, abstracted from the supernatural blessing of the light of glory, a certain knowledge of all material things, in consequence of the species, infused in the course and order of nature; which is the sentiment of Egidius Romanus, Father Saurez, and others; and this knowledge being natural, may possibly be the effect of the thirst we possess for acquiring it in this mortal life.

XCVI. But we can’t help remarking, that the foregoing argument does not stand in need of this solution, because it proceeds upon a false supposition not adverted to by Valles; which is, that the desire of knowing things philosophically, is a principle implanted in man by nature. If this was so, all men would be impressed with this desire, which is not the case; for the greatest part of them seem to have no passion at all for physics; and many despise philosophical speculations, as useless, vain, and by no means entertaining. It is true, that all men are desirous of knowledge, but this desire is not directed in all of them to the same object, or to the same species of objects. Generous souls are naturally lovers of truth; but the majority, are only anxious to understand those things, the knowledge of which, may contribute to the gratification of their passions.

XCVII. We have seen the little force of the arguments urged on both sides, with respect to the doubts we have been canvassing. On which account, I won’t venture to give sentence in the question. Nor do I, nor can any one else without the assistance of Revelation, know the just limits of the human understanding with regard to natural things. And although the various philosophical systems which have hitherto been invented, are exposed to great doubts, or are impeachable of containing manifest nullities in them, who knows but that, in future some one may be discovered so compleat, and so well founded, that the understanding may be convinced of the truth of it. My opinion is, that if this is ever to be accomplished, it must be done by pursuing the plan and method prescribed by my Lord Bacon. It is true, that this is so laborious and prolix, that the execution of it may be apprehended to be morally impossible; for although the monarchs of two very powerful kingdoms, France and England, for the space of more than a hundred years, have caused four hundred able men, at a great expence, and under proper regulations, to be employed in making innumerable experiments, and in reasoning upon, and explaining them, the work is not yet far advanced; when then may we expect to see it accomplished? The Academy of Sciences at Paris, and the Royal Society of London, don’t amount to more than a shred of my Lord Bacon’s extensive project.

On the Shew or Affectation of Learning and Knowledge.

SECT. I.

I. Science, like Virtue, has its imitators and its hypocrites; and the vulgar are as much imposed upon by the one as the other. The numbers of unlearned people who pass for men of literature, is considerable; and the false appearances they put on, becomes a copious source of errors, both particular and common. In this earthly region which we inhabit, apparent learning is as much reverenced, and often-times as much respected, as true. There are those, who are very expert at putting on the semblance of learned men, and of imposing themselves as such upon the world, although the portion of literature they possess is but very small; however, if they have the address to make their copied imitation of it appear an original painting, the copy will often make the same impression on mens minds, as if it actually was an original. When Zeuxis with his pencil imitated grapes, the birds flew with as much eagerness to eat the painted, as if they had been real and natural grapes.

II. In the eleventh century, Arnoldus Brixiens, who was a man of but little literature, did great mischief with his errors, both in his own country, and even in Rome itself; for as Gunterus Ligurinus observes, that besides being an elegant reasoner, he had the address of giving himself the air and appearance of a man of learning; _Assumpta sapientis fronte, disserto fallebat sermone rudes_; or as Otho Frinsingens remarks, a copious verbosity passed in him for knowledge and erudition; _Vir quidem naturæ non hebetis; plus tamen verborum profluvio, quam sententiarum pondere copiosus._ Thus Vigilantius, although he was an ignorant man, by his art in gaining over to him booksellers and publishers, who were the proclaimers of his fame, so far acquired the reputation of a person of literature, that he had the assurance to write against Saint Jerom, and to accuse him of being an Origenist.

III. The vulgar, who are incompetent judges of men of letters, are apt, although it is against their own interest, to countenance and give credit to unlearned persons, whose deceptions in consequence of this encouragement become formidable. The delusion of popular ignorance is apt to magnify a very small light, into the blaze of a flaming torch; and to fancy it is as luminous, as the lanthorn placed on the top of the tower of Pharos, which Pliny says, at a great distance off, appears like a star to those who navigate the sea of Alexandria.

IV. It may not be improperly remarked, that in order for a man to be esteemed a person of learning with the populace, it is not so necessary that he should really be one, as that he should put on the pompous appearance of such a person. Arrogance and verbosity, if they are accompanied with a small degree of discernment, that helps a man to judge, when are the proper times to talk, and when to hold his tongue, and what are the subjects he should discourse, and what be silent upon: I say, if he has a little discretion to know how to conduct himself in these particulars, such management will have a notable effect. A confident magisterial air in his decisions, and an artificial gesture, which when he sprinkles about the little he understands of the subject he is talking upon, and which seems to indicate that he has an infinitely greater stock of knowledge of the matter treasured up in his inside; such affected appearances, I say, will have great weight and efficacy to fascinate the ignorant vulgar.

SECT. II.

V. On the other hand, men of true learning, are modest and candid; but these two virtues, are enemies, and also great obstacles to the advancement of their fame. He who knows most, is sensible, that what he really knows, falls greatly short of what he is ignorant of. His discretion teaches him this, and his sincerity induces him to confess it; but his acting in this manner, greatly obstructs his gaining the applause of the world; for these confessions have the same effect, that the evidence of those have, who bear witness against themselves; that is, they are readily believed; and although it is impossible for any man to know every thing, the vulgar are very unwilling to esteem him learned, who owns himself ignorant of the least matter in his own profession.

VI. Men of learning, are also most commonly timid, because they are apt to be diffident of themselves; so that although all they say should be divine, if it is pronounced with a tremulous tongue, and a faltering voice, it makes no impression on those who listen to them. A man would gain more credit with the world in general, by talking loud, and making extravagant bold assertions, than by reasoning diffidently, and as if he was not quite clear; for the estimation due to discreet doubts has always been suppressed, and in consequence of this suppression, has contributed to countenance errors, and beget false conclusions. How has a presumptuous ignorant fellow, frequently availed himself of his imposing gesture, and the loudness of his voice? and how much by the strength of his lungs has he often concealed the weakness of his argument? But in truth, the noise made by a vociferous person, ought to render his solidity suspected; because men, like other sonorous machines, are loudest the more hollow and empty they are.

VII. If to these imposing appearances, there happens to be joined a moderate portion of literature, it has a most powerful effect to captivate the vulgar, and to gain popular applause. In the instance of Luther, who although he might truly and properly be stiled a man of learning, still the forcible manner in which he delivered himself, added to his address, may be supposed to have contributed more to the success of his preaching, than his literature.

SECT. III.

VIII. There are qualities also, which give people the reputation of able and learned men, when in reality they are quite the reverse. Gravity and circumspection, whether they are natural or artificial, contribute much to produce this effect. Gravity, says Magdalen Scuderi in one of her moral conversations, is a bodily mystery, invented to conceal the defects of the mind; and if it is carried to excess, elevates the person who wears this appearance, to the rank of an oracle. But I can see no reason why a person on this account, should be esteemed more than a man, because that the nearer he resembles a statue, he in reality is by so much less than a man; nor why risibility, being the distinguished mark of rationality, he should be esteemed the most rational, who is the least addicted to laughter. The ingenious French author Montaigne, says pleasantly, that among the whole brute creation, there is no animal so grave as an ass.

IX. Aristotle considered melancholy as a token of ingenuity. But I can’t tell why he did this; for every day’s experience convinces us, that there are melancholy people who are very dull and stupid. If we were to judge of things as they appear to us at first sight, we might be easily induced to confound the stupid with the thoughtful, and to mistake the one for the other. People of dark and gloomy geniuses, have in some measure, the air and appearance of profound thinkers; but if we reflect, we shall be convinced, that insociability is not a characteristic quality appertaining to a rational being. In those who look as if they were always absorbed in thought, the negotiation or operation of the interior part of the soul seems to be inverted. Instead of the understanding surveying and contemplating the species, the species seem to seize upon, and take possession of the understanding; and instead of the mind being master of the object, the object appears as if it was master of the mind; and the species that appear to seize upon it seem as if they bound it down, and kept it confined. A person in this state should not be said to be contemplative, but ought more properly to be compared to a man that is stunned; the immobility of whose thoughts, keeps his reason in a state of suspence. I observe, that there is no brute of a more festive and sociable disposition than a dog; and that there is no one which is endued with a more noble instinct; yet, maugre this experience, I look upon the opposite extreme to excessive gravity to be the worst symptom of the two; for men who are always giggling and bantering, are generally very superficial.

X. But both the silent and the loquacious have their partizans. Some consider men of few words to be the most sagacious, and others give the preference to those who are rather prodigal in their use of them. The talking but little, is occasioned either by excessive caution, or by fear, or else is the effect of modesty, and the want of a ready flow of words; but not, as is commonly thought, does this indicate a want of knowledge. There is no man, who if he was to speak all he thinks, or that occurs to him, would not talk a great deal.

XI. There are some, who observe an artificial medium between talking and holding their tongues, which is very well adapted to attract the veneration of the vulgar; that is, they speak with confidence upon such things as they understand, and take care to be silent upon such as they are ignorant of; but this they do, in a manner as if their silence proceeded from reserve, and an unwillingness to enter upon the subject. By these artifices, men of very moderate capacities, and whose informations are very limited, pass themselves upon the world for persons of deep penetration, and a sort of walking libraries; and although they are possessed of only a very minute or abstracted portion of whatever is the subject of conversation, they engage in the argument in very general terms, always taking care not to advance too far, and to retreat in time; which they do in a manner, as if they were tired of talking further upon the question at present, and therefore would be glad to postpone it, to be discussed more at large another time. In reality, they have said all they know, but behave in this manner, in order to have it thought they have only given a small specimen of their knowledge of the thing; although, like the painter who undertook to paint the eleven thousand virgins, but never finished more than five of them, and declared that all the rest should be supposed coming behind in procession, they would be glad, that what they have already said should conclude the debate; still, if any one, aware of their tricks, should then press them to a further discussion of the point, they either artfully turn the conversation, or affect a scornful dislike to discussing so weighty a matter before so thin an audience; or else get rid of the invitation made to them, with a disdainful smile, and treat both the proposal and the proposer, as if they were beneath their notice. These people are very ready at such sort of expedients, because they study them much, and have a great deal of practice in them.

XII. There are others again, who have recourse to ambiguous and confused expressions; which seem to say a great deal, when in reality they say nothing; and which, like the answers of the oracles of old, are applicable to all kinds of events. In fact, they may be termed the images of those oracles; for although they are listened to with attention, they are little better than mere stocks or stones. The obscurity with which they talk is a dark shade, that conceals what they are ignorant of; and they make use of the stratagem of those who have no other but false money; that is, take care to pass it off under the cover of the night. But notwithstanding all these glaring appearances, there are not wanting weak people, who esteem their embarrassment and confusion as marks of their learning, and who think, that men are like mountains, which the more elevated and sublime they are, the more liable to be covered with clouds, and to cause dark shades which obstruct the fertility, and obscure the chearful appearance of the vallies.

_Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbræ._

XIII. This deception, is commonly kept up and assisted by a persuasive carriage, and by certain mysterious gestures and distortions of the features; such as wrinkling the forehead, knitting the eye-brows, rolling the eyes, swelling out the cheeks, thrusting forth the under-lip, and shaking the head; all which affected tokens of wisdom and importance, are displayed and accompanied, with a kind of disdainful countenance. These are a sort of men, who have more than half the wisdom they seem to possess lodged in their features and muscles, which serve them to exhibit and express these symptoms of profundity. Tully very justly ridiculed this artifice in Pison in the following words: _Respondes, altero ad frontem sublato, altero ad mentem depresso supercilio, crudelitatem tibi non placere._

SECT. IV.

XIV. Men, by affecting to despise others who know more than themselves, make use of the most vile and mean artifices imaginable; but notwithstanding this, it is the most sure method, to make them pass for persons of great knowledge, among people of groveling and plebeian minds. There can be no greater injustice committed, nor a vainer effort made, than that, of an envious man’s attempting to transfer the merit which he has purloined from another person to himself. It is true, that a small cloud may obstruct the splendor of the sun; but this obstruction does not prevent this luminary from being the illustrious torch of heaven, nor can such a circumstance be of more consequence than a speck in the atmosphere; nor does it require any science or learning, to enable a man to cast a thousand reflections and blemishes upon other people’s doctrines and writings. When there is no reason to conclude that such behaviour proceeds from envy or malevolence, we ought to suppose that it springs from pure ignorance. I remember to have read in a Treatise intitled The Man of Letters, written by Father Daniel Bartoli, that an ass once happening to stumble over the Iliad of Homer, he in a passion tore it to pieces with his teeth. Thus, in order to outrage, abuse, and destroy a noble writing, nothing is better qualified than a beast.

XV. Being tenacious, insolent, and overbearing in argument, is also another means, which, although it is equally base and bad with the beforementioned, is sometimes very efficacious to gain a person the reputation of being a learned man.—Foolish people, such as the Megalopolitans, of whom we have an account in Pausanias, pay greater veneration to Boreas the god of the north-wind than to any other deity, and are apt to adore tumultuous geniuses as beings of supreme intelligence; and although it is absolutely irreconcileable and incompatible with it, to look upon barefaced arrogance as the child of superior learning. To this we may add another thing, that may have an effect to make them pass for wise and able persons, which is, that those who are truly learned, avoid as much as possible, all controversy or dispute with people who are of this tenacious overbearing disposition; and this prudent declining to contend with them, is often construed into fear of engaging them; as if it was necessary for men of learning, in order to shew their spirit, to encounter reptiles and venomous snakes. Cato’s lamentation, or repentance, was just and generous, when he regretted having led his troops into the burning deserts of Africa, where they had no other enemies to encounter but asps, horned serpents, vipers, fiery serpents, and basilisks. The horrors of the civil war in the plains of Pharsalia, where they engaged the invincible troops of Cæsar, appeared to him less frightful, than those they experienced among the burning sands of Libya, where the most vile and abominable reptiles fought on Cæsar’s side,

_Pro Cæsare pugnant_
_Dipsades, et peragunt civilia bella Cerastæ._

XVI. He who can reconcile it to himself, to be inflexible in argument, and to dispute without end, and with all his might, never suffering himself to be convinced by reason, has made a large stride towards being reputed an Aristotle among the vulgar; for they, with respect to the wars of Minerva, as well as those of Mars, are apt to declare the victory, in favour of him who remains longest in the field, and, in their opinion, he never fails to come off conqueror, who has the last word. This is the way the vulgar judge; but he who would be thought superior to that class of people, must permit himself to be convinced by reason, for, if he does not, instead of acquiring the reputation of a learned man by such conduct, he lets himself down to the level of a brute.

The ingenious Doctor Luis Rodriguez, being asked what sort of a man a shallow physician was with whom he had been arguing, answered pleasantly, (although we must allow his wit favoured of the arrogance which is rather too common with the Portuguese) _He is so great an ass, that goad him ever so much, it is impossible to make him get on, or be the better for any reasoning that is bestowed on him._

XVII. It is also a very common artifice with those who know but little, to bring the conversation to turn upon that little they are informed of. This is very easy for people of power or authority to do. I knew a person of this sort myself, who, whatever conversation happened to arise in company, was used to train the subject of it insensibly, to fall on the few points relative to it, which he had been reading or studying that day, or the day before, by which piece of management, he generally used to appear more learned than the rest of the company. Even in scholastic disputes, this art is often practised. I have more than twice in my life, seen a good theologian foiled by a novice; who, by artfully sliding some chimerical proposition into the dispute, has drawn the argument from its proper object, and caused it to fall into a sumulistical labyrinth of amplifications, restrictions, alienations, oppositions, conversions, and equipolations; the rules of which were fresh in the young man’s memory, and which the old theologian had forgot. This was adopting the craft of the rogue Cacus, who, having artfully drawn Hercules into his own cave, rendered his arms and superior strength of no use to him, by blinding him with the smoak he continued to eject out of his mouth.

SECT. V.

XVIII. Besides the visionary wise people, or those which are such in appearance only, there are others who have credit given them for being men of profound knowledge, merely from the mistakes and misapprehensions of others. He who studies logic and metaphysics in the schools, together with those other matters, which under the denomination of philosophy are taught there, notwithstanding the sounding names, of these faculties, and his being supposed to know every thing, in reality, knows but little more than nothing. It is commonly said, that such a man is a great philosopher, when in truth he is no philosopher at all, either great or little. All the ten categorical principles, together with the whole contents of the eight books on physics, and their two adjuncts _on generation and corruption_, put into a logical alembic, would not produce a drop of true philosophical spirit, that would assist us to explain the most vulgar phenomenon in the sensible world. The Aristotelic ideas, have no more to do with physics, than the Platonic ones; and the physics of the schools, are pure metaphysics. All that the Peripatetics have hitherto written or disputed concerning motion, has not determined, what is the line of reflection, by which a ball returns back that is struck against a wall, or what is the degree of velocity, with which a heavy body descends by an inclined plane. He who by the ordinary metaphysical reasonings, thinks to attain a true knowledge of nature, is as mad, as he who should fancy himself master of the world, because he is possessed of a map of it.

XIX. The great advantage of these philosophers in name, if in the schools they manage with dexterity the rules of science, consists in this, that in virtue of the four species or rudiments of theology or medicine they acquire there, they are enabled to dazzle the eyes of mankind, and to pass in the world, for great theologians and doctors of physic. With respect to theology, the mistake in this matter is not so great; but with regard to medicine, it cannot be greater. By the rule, _Ubi desinit physicus, incipit medicus_, it seems as if it should follow of course, that a good philosopher is easily made a good doctor of physic. Upon this supposition, when people see a practising physician, who has twenty syllogisms at his fingers ends, ready to explain and demonstrate, whether privation is a principle annexed to a natural entity, or whether the united mass or the whole, can be of a distinct or different texture from the parts, they fancy he is possessed of all the requisites and recommendations, that are necessary to establish and fix him as a most able, or first rate man in his profession.

XX. That most learned commentator upon Discorides, Andrew de Laguna, says, that if it could conveniently be done, it would be good policy to send those flaming young physicians, who are just come from the university, brimful of the bragadocio arrogance of _ergo_ and _probo_, to practise physic in those nations we are at war with, for that it would be attended with a great saving, both of men and money, to our own country.

XXI. I can with confidence affirm, that there is no art or faculty, that can be less conducive to the acquisition of medicinal knowledge, than the physics of the schools. If all the philosophers that are, or ever were in the world, could be convened together, and remain in consultation for a hundred years, they would not in all that time, by the mere help of philosophical speculations, be able to instruct us how we should cure a chilblain; nor from that tumultuous consultation, should we obtain any maxim, that ought not to be prohibited as contraband, and refused admittance into the chamber of a sick person. Good sense joined to experience, either acquired by a man’s own, or the practice of other reputable people, are both the father and mother of medicinal knowledge; nor has physics, that is to say the physics of the schools, the least share in the propagation of this species.

XXII. The reasoning of naturalists upon all kinds of mixtures, consists, in whether they are constituted of matter and substantial forms according to the doctrine of Aristotle, or of atoms according to that of Epicurus, or of salt, sulphur, and mercury, according to that of the chymists, or of the three elements, according to that of the Cartesians: whether these are composed of undivisible points, or of parts dividable _in infinitum_; whether their action or operation is from their texture, or the motion of their particles, or from some accidental virtues which they call qualities; whether these qualities are of the manifest or the occult kind; and whether they are of the first, second, or third class or species. Now what has all this to do with medicine? I will venture to pronounce no more, or rather less, than it has with geometry or jurisprudence. When a physician goes about to cure a tertian ague, all this farrago of questions applied to the operations or effect of the bark, is of no sort of use to him. The only thing that is of any importance for him to know, is, whether his experience has taught him, that in the present state of the disorder, it will be proper to administer this febrifuge; but this he is to infer, not from the maxims, _dici de omni, dici de nullo_; but from conviction, drawn from experiments he has made himself of its efficacy in the like cases, and also from those, which have been made by physicians of eminence who have wrote on the subject.

XXIII. In no art whatever, is it of any use, to have a physical knowledge of the implements, with, or by which, a man does his business. A man may be an excellent pilot, without being able to explain the directive virtue of the load-stone to the pole; and a great soldier, although he is totally ignorant of the physical component parts of gunpowder, and the metal with which military implements are made; and he may be a great painter, without knowing whether colours consist of intrinsic accidents, or whether they are produced by the various reflections of light. Nor does the being able to argue well upon these points, conduce in the least degree, to make a man either a pilot, a soldier, or a painter. But there is no necessity for my enlarging further, in order to extirpate this common error from the world, as the learned Doctor Martinez, has fully and effectually exploded it in his two volumes, intitled Medicina Sceptica.

SECT. VI.

XXIV. There is another common error respecting the subject-matter of this Essay, although the opinion built upon it, is rather better founded than the one we have just been speaking of, and that is, looking upon every man as wise, able, and skilful, who has studied a great deal. The labour of study, seldom makes any great improvements, if it is not bestowed on a clear and penetrating natural understanding; and may be compared to the toils and expences of cultivation, that are employed upon a poor and nearly barren soil, which seldom produce much fruit. Among mankind, are to be found the turtles and the eagles of the human species. The last, with a speedy and easy flight, ascend to the summit of Olympus; the first, after several days labour, shall not be able to reach to the top of a moderate hill.

XXV. Much time employed in reading, furnishes a man with a deal of matter; but the being able to penetrate, or rightly comprehend that matter, is more a gift of nature, than a production from toil. There are some, who may be termed learned from their memories, but who are not so in virtue of their understandings, and who may be compared to marble tablets with inscriptions engraved on them, which display the letters, but do not perceive them. They are a kind of mental books, that are filled with many texts, which they no more comprehend, or have a right idea of the meaning of, than the leaves on which they are written. If you observe the use or application they make of the species they have acquired, you will perceive, they deduce no proper conclusions from what they have read, nor make any observations on the things they have been perusing, that are pertinent or applicable to the subject-matter of those things. Thus we see, that from the same species or set of ideas, may be formed good reasoning and bad; just as with the same sort of materials, you may build elegant palaces, and rustic habitations.

XXVI. Thus it may also happen, that a man shall know all the works of Saint Thomas by heart, and be a very poor theologian; and that he shall in the same manner, know all the statutes of the civil and canon law, and be a very bad lawyer. And although it is commonly said, that law-knowledge depends almost intirely upon memory, or at least, that it depends more upon memory than understanding, yet I consider this as another common error. With a great many law-cases and maxims at his fingers ends, a man may draw a very bad plea; in the same manner as one, although his memory is stored with a vast variety of texts of scripture, may make a very bad sermon. The choice of the most fit to apply to the subject, depends upon the understanding, and not upon the memory. If men were obliged to do law-business by surprize, and without having time to consider and digest what they were about, a happy memory, in which were treasured up pertinent texts and citations, would be a most essential ingredient, and one, that it is almost indispensably necessary they should be possessed of. But as this, in the regular course of practice, is not the case; he who has attended properly to the best books that have been written on the profession, and has a good general idea of them, will seldom be at a loss where to look for apt cases and authorities, wherewith to support his arguments; and as I observed before, the choice of those which are the most conducive to this end, is more the business of understanding, than memory.

XXVII. I have observed, that professional people in all faculties and sciences, have a great propensity to complain of the want of memory, and I have also observed, that they are apt to set a much higher value upon the gift of memory, than the power of reasoning; so that it appears to me, that if there were to be two shops opened, in one of which was sold memory, and in the other understanding, the man who kept the first would soon make a fortune, and he who kept the second, would not take as much money as would buy him salt to his porridge. But my opinion, was always quite different from this common notion, and I can say for myself, that I set more value upon a drachm of understanding, than upon an ounce of memory. I have been told, that I do not estimate memory at a high rate, because I have no occasion for it; but it is possible that those who told me this, may judge of me by themselves, who are not anxious about an increase of talents or ingenuity, because they fancy they are abundantly provided with all they stand in need of. I would not pretend to be endowed with a great share of memory, but I however think, I am rather better furnished in that respect, than I am in point of understanding; but I do not set a greater value on the last of these faculties on that account, nor does it proceed from my being anxious of an increase of it to myself, that I set a higher value upon understanding, than I do upon memory; but I give this preference from a persuasion, that in all the ordinary occurrences of life, understanding will afford a man more assistance, and be of infinitely greater use to him than memory.

SECT. VII.

XXVIII. We have not as yet, said any thing of authors or writers; but this semblance of learning, is the easiest to put on of all others. There is no more difficulty in writing ill, than there is in talking ill; and provided a man writes in the _bon ton_, and can flourish with the king’s licence in the front of his work, the book will go off, and the author will pass with the ideots of the world, for a learned, and an able man.

XXIX. But a person may make sure of gaining applause as an author with the generality of mankind, and this may be done in two ways, either by filling his writing with common-place observations, and just taking care to diversify and scatter them about; or else by stealing from other authors; and where there are great numbers of books to have recourse to, the danger of being detected in the plagiary is not very considerable; for there are very few who read many books, and nobody can read all that are published; so that all the hazard a person runs of being found out, is, that here and there one out of many thousands of readers, may discover from whence he made the theft; and among all the rest, he would pass for an original author, and they would acknowledge and respect him as such.

XXX. The writing from alphabetical compilations is also extremely easy. There is the Theatre of human life, the Polyantheas, and many other books, where erudition is arranged under the initial letters of the several branches of learning, and these books, by having copious indexes annexed to them, become a kind of public fountains, where all the animals of the world may drink, both men and beasts. Whatever subject a man undertakes to write upon, be it politics, morality, humanity, or history, he has only to turn to the index, which will point out to him, where he may be furnished with a copious assortment of texts, and citations, that are amassed together in these books for the use of all the world, and where he may collect whatever he has occasion for. By this management, the new author may gain himself the reputation of a man of great erudition and reading; for there are very few who can distinguish by the connection and regular series of a writing, that kind of copious erudition, which is well arranged and properly separated in the brain, and which flows opportunely from thence to the pen; from that, which a man when he is hard put to it, is obliged to collect from indexes and common-place books, with which he swells his work, and with which he heaps up in it, gross and bulky trifles, that consist of straw and chaff, collected from common-place Latin citations and numbers.

MORAL AND POLITICAL PARADOXES.

PARADOX I.

_The Invention of Gun-powder has been of great Use, and also very beneficial to Mankind._

I. If in the account which Virgil gives of the descent of Æneas into hell, he points out, as one of the most tormented and afflicted he saw there, Salmoneus that king of Elide, who in order to acquire to himself divine honours, attempted to imitate, although it was but in a very poor way, the thunder and lightning of Jupiter;

_Vidi, & crudeles dantem Salmonea pœnas,_
_Dum flammas Jovis, & sonitus imitatur Olympi._

I say, if this was the case of Salmoneus, I believe I may venture to pronounce, that the bulk of mankind, would judge the man deserving a much more severe punishment, who invented gun-powder, and contrived cannon, and would think, that he had imitated much better than the king of Elide, the noise, the flash, and the havoc made by those fiery flying meteors. In truth, the world contemplate the Author of that invention with such horror and indignation, that they detest his name. And Quevedo speaks the sentiment of them all, or they nearly all assent to the opinion he expressed of him, in the following lines:

He was of iron race and heart,
In concave metal vast machine,
Who first combustible with art
Did shut;
And then to raise a horrid scene,
By violence produc’d a flame,
Destructive as his savage mind,
And thus transferr’d his odious name
As infamous to all mankind.

II. This abomination of the inventor, arises from the world’s considering the invention of gun-powder, as a most pernicious thing to the human race, as in consequence of it, the number of violent deaths has been greatly increased; but this is an error, which in the discussion of this Paradox I propose to banish from the world; and do not doubt, that by the help of a little reasoning and reflexion, I shall be able so to explain the matter, as to cause the mistake to vanish.