Chapter VII: Part 7

XCII. That mankind should be desirous of seeing themselves applauded, and their names honoured while living, seems very natural, because they may find a gratification in it; but that they should be anxious for posthumous honours, which they can neither taste or enjoy, seems to bespeak a disordered imagination, and a distempered brain. Ovid paints Sappho, as feeling great satisfaction, at seeing her muse celebrated by all the world.

_At mihi Pegasides blandissima carmina dictant;_
_Jam canitur toto nomen in orbe meum._

Thus far he expressed himself very properly, because he spoke in the name of Sappho while she was living, and might be supposed to be gratified by, and pleased with the aromatic fumes of those acclamations. But he reasoned very ill, when speaking of Hercules and Theseus, he reckoned as a balance for the loss of those heroes, the applauses the world would bestow on their memories:

_Occidit et Theseus, et qui tumulavit Orestem;_
_Sed tamen in laudes vivit uterque suas._

XCIII. The eulogiums of the dead, can only be enjoyed by the living. The relations, the friends, and the country of the deceased, divide among themselves the whole fragrancy of this grateful gale, nor can the least breath of it reach the region, which is inhabited by those who depart hence. There remains to the dead but one happy lot, and that is derived from, and depends on their having died well. _Beati mortui, qui in Domino moriuntur._

PARADOX XI.

_There is no man of a clear and good understanding who is not a good-intentioned one._

XCIV. I believe that all the mortals in every quarter of the Globe, will be struck with surprize, at hearing me broach this paradox, and will look upon it as one of the greatest chimeras in ethics, that ever entered the head of man; for there is scarce any one of the least observation, who cannot affirm and attest, he has seen and known people of very good capacities, who were very perverse and ill-disposed. But I, in opposition to all this, assert that I never met with such a one; and I not only make this declaration, but declare further, that I think it next to impossible that there should be such a man, and that if by chance such a one should be found, he ought to be considered as a monster.

XCV. But in order that we should not misunderstand or confound things, I think it necessary for me to explain, what I understand by an evil-intentioned man. By an evil-intentioned man, then, I mean such a one in whom those vices reign, which are most pernicious to society, that is to say, malignity of heart, unforgivingness, turbulence or restlessness, and a desire of usurping other peoples property; and in general, all sly and crafty persons should be enumerated in the catalogue of evil-intentioned men, such for example, as are attentive to nothing but their own gratifications and emoluments, and who have not the least concern for, or who are totally indifferent about the good of their neighbour, or the welfare of the public.

XCVI. The deformity, the baseness, and the dissonance from natural reason, there is in a person’s doing a voluntary injury to another, is so strikingly represented to a man of a clear and a sound understanding, that except in here and there an instance, where some violent passion intervenes to disturb and disorder the reason, it seems impossible, that a person should voluntarily commit acts that are directly injurious and offensive to his neighbour. And it may be from this principle, that we have seen some who have been reputed as atheists, who, notwithstanding their erroneous belief that there is no such thing as future rewards and punishments, and that they expect no recompence for their good actions, or chastisement for their bad ones hereafter; as members of human society, have behaved well, or at least have done no civil mischief to it; I mean that they have conducted themselves like quiet peaceable people, and have lived contentedly upon their own patrimonies, or on what they have lawfully acquired, and have shewn themselves averse to all violence and injustice. Such among the antients, was Pliny the elder; and such among those of more modern date, was the Englishman Thomas Hobbes.

XCVII. The genuine and true reason of this is, that the existence of a Supreme Being, although it is most plain and clear, is not with respect to the human understanding, self-evident, or, as the Theologians explain the thing, is not _per se nota quo ad nos_; but is made infallibly evident, by deductions drawn from other principles; and where a deduction of this sort is absolutely necessary, a person may suspect, that it is very possible now and then some fallacy may creep in. But the deformity of such vicious actions as we have been speaking of, is evident of itself; and whenever such actions are represented to the understanding, it clearly comprehends their baseness, and the operation of them is odious and apparent in the eyes of every man, unless as we observed before, some circumstance intervenes to disturb his reason.

XCVIII. To this it may be urged by way of objection, in the first place, that in order to perceive and be convinced of the turpitude of those actions, there is no necessity for a man to be possessed of a bright understanding, as a middling one, or even one below the middle class, would be sufficient for this purpose; so that this reasoning will prove the turpitude to be plain to every understanding, high, middling, and low, or else that it is evident to neither of them.

XCIX. To this I answer, that although the thing may be known with intire certainty to every one of them, there is a great difference between the knowledge and comprehension of one man, and that of another. Two understandings that are unequal, notwithstanding they may both know, and be thoroughly persuaded of the same truth, may be struck with it very differently; and in proportion as one of these understandings is the most clear, that one will know it more distinctly, more strikingly, and with a more refined degree of penetration; and in proportion as the other is less clear, that other will perceive it less distinctly, and more confusedly. In consequence of this inequality of understandings, objects make a more strong or a more weak impression on the soul, and have more or less influence to excite in it, these, or those affections. The same infinite goodness of God which is known to the blessed, is known with infallible certainty by the worldly also. How then comes it to pass, that the first love him necessarily and intensely, and that we worldly mortals are so luke-warm in our love of him? This is occasioned by no other cause than the following, that although our knowledge of him is evident, that of the blessed is the most clear, and ours the most obscure; and in proportion as the understanding knows a good or an evil with greater clearness, the will is moved with a greater impetus, to love the first, and abhor the last.

C. This may be very opportunely and aptly explained, by the operation of any corporeal sense; for he whose olfactory nerves are very quick, will be more offended with an ill smell, than one in whom that sensation is more languid and remiss; and although this last may be able clearly to distinguish the ill smell, he will be less disgusted at it; nor will it appear so hateful to him; and this happens from no other reason, than that the olfactory perception of the first is very clear, and that of the second rather obstructed or more dull; and although not only the man who has a very quick and delicate ear, but also he who has one that is more obtuse, may evidently perceive the dissonance of three or four voices which are totally discordant; the last will bear it without being much affected, and the other will be almost distracted by it; and this is all derived from the cause above-mentioned.

CI. And it happens just so with regard to intellectual perception. The deformity of vicious actions, which are self-evident, is apparent and clear, not only to men of perspicuous understandings, but to those of the most inferior capacities, provided they are not quite stupid; but by the first perceiving them with a lively clearness, and the others somewhat confusedly, they produce a kind of horror in those who have that clearness of perception, which does not permit their wills to embrace such objects; while those to whom they do not appear so disgusting and unpleasant, may be betrayed into grasping turpitudes, under the disguise of delights and pleasures. But I would not have it understood that I mean to insinuate by what I have said here, that there ever is a suspension, or obstruction of the operation, of every, or any man’s free will.

CII. It may be objected in the second place, that there are entire nations, among whom it cannot be denied, that there are to be found many men of excellent understandings, who hold robbery, deceit, and even cruelty to be lawful, and that consequently, they cannot consider these things as turpitudes, or have a just sense of their baseness. To this I answer, that our assertion with respect to a good understanding, does not allude to one placed in such a situation. The general error of a nation in any matter whatever, is like a dark fog which bewilders people, causes them to mistake their way, and perplexes the clearest understandings. If in early infancy, when the rational faculties are weak, children are familiarized to, and brought up under the influence of deceitful prejudices; and when they come to years of maturity, they are accustomed to reverence a common error as irrefragable authority; if it should happen afterwards, that a ray of light breaks in upon them, which discovers to them the truth, they timidly fly from the elucidation, distrust their own reason and reflexion, and are apt to suspect such elucidation to be a delusion, and to suppose that it would be criminal in them to regard it.

CIII. I answer secondly, that it is not known with any degree of certainty, that men of excellent understandings, who are educated and brought up in those nations we call barbarous, are infected with all the errors that prevail in those nations; and with respect to myself, I am fully persuaded they are not. We know that various eminent men among the Gentiles, in matters of religion, thought very differently from the populace. It is true however, that there were but few of them who had sufficient resolution to speak out, as they for the most part disguised their opinions, from motives of fear or policy. We ought also to admit, that among the barbarous nations of these times, there are still to be found men of this character. Nor is there any necessity for limiting such an opinion within the bounds of mere conjecture; for there are various historical relations, which bear testimony to actions of heroic virtue, that have been lately done by some of the individuals of those very nations, where maxims of inhumanity are prevalent at this day; of which if it was necessary, a long catalogue might be adduced.

CIV. In the third place, it may be objected, that experience teaches us, there is scarce a country or populous city, where you may not find some people of perspicuous understandings, and who, although they are of wayward dispositions and depraved inclinations, are subtil and penetrating. To this I answer resolutely and determinedly, that I defy any man to produce such an instance. I have known and conversed with many of those people, who have been esteemed men of good understanding, and perverse dispositions, but have always found the common opinion of those persons to be extremely erroneous. The vulgar frequently look upon persons of very superficial talents, as men of great understanding; and upon hearing them talk off hand, although there is nothing solid in what they say, and observing in them a readiness at expressing themselves, and more especially if they deliver themselves with confidence, and a magisterial air, most people are apt to give them credit for being men of admirable understandings; when in truth, there is hardly one out of a hundred of them, who can penetrate more than skin-deep into the objects he converses upon. There is another very common deception in this matter, and that is, looking upon cunning people as men of depth or penetration, when they are as palpably different from one another, as light is from darkness. I call those cunning people, who are solely attentive to nothing but their own concerns, and who by all sorts of under-hand ways and means, and by all kinds of little arts and deceits, are endeavouring to promote their own particular interest. Can these be called men of sublime understandings? To do this, requires but little depth or penetration, as all that is necessary to accomplish such ends, is low craft and roguery; and there is hardly any capacity, be it ever so mean, which cannot comprehend and apply such trivial artifices: every one may arrive at doing this; but a noble understanding, discerning the baseness of them, abominates such practices; although the vulgar, to whose bastard dispositions they are better suited, embrace them with eagerness. Dissimulation, so far from requiring an exalted understanding to support and carry it on, requires none at all, for we see some irrational animals who exercise it with great address. The foxes are very expert at it, but that does not in any wise render their nature superior to that of brutes; and I repeat again, that I never knew an understanding that had any thing of the elevated or sublime in its composition, that did not abhor all duplicity and fraud.

CV. If we see this matter in the other extreme point of view, we shall find it liable to great equivocation. It frequently happens, that a man of very pure virtue, who has somewhat of native dryness or bluntness in his composition, appears to those of rude and uncultivated capacities, as a person of a depraved disposition. Those who are zealous lovers of truth and justice, are accustomed, not always to accommodate themselves to those courteous condescensions; by which people acquire popular acceptation; as by attending to the substance of things, they are apt to overlook forms and ceremonies. Words from their mouths, signify what the sound and sense of them express: they confider courteous dissimulation as a treacherous enemy of virtue; and are ignorant of the art of painting vice in counterfeit colours, for the sake of pleasing or flattering any man; but on the contrary, are always careful to describe it so, as that it may appear in its true native shape, and in all its deformity. The more prevalent lying, deceit, and perfidy is, the more they loath and nauseate it, and are observed to be more strict and severe in their reprehensions of it; and besides, they never look smilingly, but upon those in whom they perceive a clean mind. This unpleasing integrity, is regarded by the bulk of the world, as a kind of misanthropy, or malevolence towards the generality of mankind; and the number of those, who busy themselves in painting such men, as impracticable, perverse, and ill-intentioned is infinite; for they are pleasing but to very few, as there are but few who are pleased with them; so that either from the malice of their opponents, or from the want of a proper knowledge of the world in those that are indifferent with respect to their opinions of them, it easily comes to pass, that a man of exalted and sincere virtue, is often looked upon by a whole town, as a person of intentional malignity.

CVI. Whoever is upon his guard not to fall into one of the two beforementioned errors, and has capacity to distinguish true virtue from false, and a clear and good understanding, from a cloudy, crooked, or crafty one, will be convinced as I myself have been convinced, that there never fails to be much virtue lodged in the person, in whom you find a real good and clear understanding. I would not however be understood to insinuate, that all men of great genius and capacity should be saints; for meritorious virtue, or such as entitles a man to inherit eternal life, is the child of grace, and not of nature. Neither would I be understood to say, that all kinds of moral virtues should be resplendent in such a man as I have been describing, but only those, whose opposite vices, at first sight, and without the assistance of any reasoning or reflection, are manifest and apparent; and whose deformity, at a glance, strikes the eye of every beholder; nor would I even be understood to assert so much as this, without some limitation and exception; for every vehement passion during the time it lasts, will make the most prudent man act like a mad one, and the most acute one, like a fool; but abstracted from the intervention of such accidents, it is my firm opinion, that every man of a clear and good understanding, is an honest and a good-intentioned one.

THE GREAT AND MASTERLY AUTHORITY of EXPERIENCE.

SECT. I.

I. There arrived in the kingdom of Cosmosia, two famous women, who were very opposite to each other; but both with the same design, which was that of obtaining the absolute dominion over that empire. The first was called Solidina, the other Idearia; the first was learned, but simple; the second ignorant, and ostentatious. The people of the country, were ignorant like the last, and simple as the first. Hence, Solidina thought to win them to her by kindness, and by instructing them; and Idearia, to subdue them by craft and imposition. Idearia opened a public school, and promised in pompous language, that in a very short time, and with little or no trouble, she would make all those extremely learned and wise, who chose to attend her lectures. The greatness of the promise, joined to the imposing appearance of the new doctress, mounted in the professional chair, together with her great volubility, and flow of mountebank rhetoric, soon filled the school with pupils. She began her lectures, which all consisted, in laying before her auditors in new and unusual language, the chimeras, contained in the extensive field of the imagination. And, oh wonderful to relate! either Idearia had somewhat of enchantment about her, or else there was something very singular in her method of applying her artifice and cunning; for in a few years after opening her school, she persuaded those miserable people, they perfectly understood all that could be learned.

II. Solidina, pursued a course diametrically opposite to that taken by Idearia. In an humble garb, and without any parade or ostentation, she went from house to house, and familiarizing herself with all men, taught them in plain and easy language, true and useful documents. The most retired cottages, and the most humble work-shops, were schools suited to her doctrines, for she found in all of them, sensible objects, which examined by the help, or auxiliary aid of the understanding, served the purpose of books for teaching and explaining her lessons; and so far was she from inspiring an indiscreet presumption in her disciples, that she ingenuously told them, that all she taught, was a mere trifle, compared to the infinite deal there is to be learned; and that to arrive at a moderate knowledge of things, required infinite labour and application. This modesty of Solidina’s, was very prejudicial to her, because at the very time she made this declaration, Idearia, was boasting and blazoning in her school, that in a concise mode, and with very little trouble, she would make all her auditors universally learned; the consequence of which was, that the pupils of Solidina one after another began to drop off, and go over to Idearia, in hopes that in her school, they should arrive at the summit of learning _per saltum_. What contributed much to forward this defection, was, that Idearia also spoke of Solidina with contempt, calling her base, vile, mechanical, and stupid; by which means, the poor tutress became abandoned by all the people of rank, and was obliged to retire from the city to the villages, where she applied herself to instructing poor husbandmen, in that sort of knowledge, that was necessary and useful, for the cultivation and improvement of their lands.

III. Idearia by the banishment of her rival, now becoming triumphant, entertained thoughts of establishing an absolute and despotic sway over her disciples; and to accomplish this purpose, she published an edict, by which every one was required not to believe in future, aught he should see with his eyes, or touch with his hands, but only to credit such things as she should be pleased to order him to believe; requiring further, that he should look upon it as an indispensable obligation, always to defend with invincible obstinacy and unremitting vociferation her doctrines, against whoever should presume to contradict them. All heads bowed obedient to this tyrannic decree, and people began firmly to believe many maxims, which before they had found a difficulty in assenting to; such for example, as that the truth can never be found out or ascertained but by means of fiction; that there is a mode of coming at the knowledge of things, which may be taught to a child in four days; that mankind are all alike, which is a rule that will hold good with respect to every other species, and if you know what one of a sort is, you know what they all are; that insensible and inanimate things, have their desires, their prejudices, and their affections, the same as animate ones; that that body, which is the most brilliant, and most heating of any, has nothing igneous in its composition; and that on the other hand, there is another very large body, which is purely igneous, that is neither luminous, nor heating, nor does it stand in need of any pabulum to sustain it; that all living creatures have a large portion of fire in their composition, without excepting even the fish, although they are always in or under the water, nor the turtle, whose blood is positively cold.

IV. These and many other such-like portentous particulars, did Idearia teach to, and impose on her credulous disciples; who all received and embraced them as infallible truths; but at length there arose in the very school of the doctress herself, a contentious schism, or scandalous disagreement, which was begun by one Papyratius, a man of subtil and animated genius, but a great lover of novelties. This man introduced new and not less astonishing dogmas than the others; such as that all the living creatures in the world, man only excepted, have no more sensation or feeling than stocks or stones; and that in every man, there is but a very small portion of the body which possesses the presence of the soul; that the extension of the world is infinite; that the motion of sublunary bodies, is equally semper-eternal with that of the cœlestial ones; that the imaginary space, is really and truly a body; that every thing upon the face of the earth, is in so continual and rapid a motion, as in the space of every twenty-four hours, to travel some thousands of leagues; that we in all things, should give credit to our imaginations, but none to our senses; for that the representations made by these last, are apt grossly to deceive us; and that neither is the swan white, or the crow black, nor is fire hot, or snow cold, &c.

V. These novelties, and others of the same sort, although they were condemned from the beginning by the majority of Idearia’s disciples, did not fail to attract a number of votaries, sufficient to form a new school. The two parties inveighed against each other with great bitterness, and one side reprobated as absurd errors, what the other maintained as conclusive dogmas.

VI. This division, after long and obstinate disputes, in which the arguments were so nearly poised in equilibrium, that neither side could claim the victory, in the course of time, opened the eyes of many, and made them doubt whether they had not lightly, or even blindly, admitted as articles of human faith, doctrines, that were uncertain, and exposed to be terribly contested. They observed, that the arguments with which each side attacked the opinions of their opponents, were beyond comparison stronger, than the reasons with which they defended their own. From hence they inferred, that both the one and the other were evidently doubtful, and might very probably be false. This brought to their remembrance the poor and neglected Solidina, and made them reflect, that she proved all she advanced, by sensible and plain demonstrations. This remark becoming every day more general, and more adverted to by men of the first-rate ingenuity in the schools; they took the matter into consideration, and the result of their deliberations was, a determination to recall Solidina from her retirement, and to bring her back to the city; which after having done with solemn pomp, they erected a magnificent school for her, where she has continued to teach from that time, with a reputation that has increased daily; and her being favoured with the countenance and protection of some illustrious personages of high rank, has greatly contributed to advance her credit, and particularly the encouragement she has met with from the princes, Galindo and Anglosio, who are both great lovers, and patrons of Solidina.

SECT. II.

VII. This History, which was printed in French, was given me to read by a stranger who was on his travels; but as soon as I had read what I have just related, he snatched the book out of my hands, and asked me if I comprehended what I had read? The question gave me to understand, there was something mysterious in the History, and that under the plain letter, was conveyed some signification, different from what the words expressed. I answered him, that I had not understood it in any other sense, than what the language seemed to imply; but that if he would permit me to read it over again with a little attention, I might perhaps be able to comprehend its meaning. He gave me leave, and then upon reflection, first on the nature of the doctrines it mentioned, although they were not pointed out very clearly, and secondly, on the allusion of the names given to the personages who were introduced into the scene, I found it was not very difficult to decypher the riddle, which I interpreted in the following manner.

VIII. The kingdom of _Cosmosia_ is the world, which is the signification of the Greek word _Cosmos_. _Solidina_ is experience, and _Idearia_ imagination. These names are very properly suited, both to the characters and doctrines of the parties. Experience _solidly_ proves her maxims, by sensible and clear demonstrations; and imagination, grounds her opinions on the vain representation of her _ideas_. Solidina was a long while banished, and during all that time, Idearia reigned triumphant; for from the period that Pythagoras reduced all philosophy to his numbers, Plato to his ideas, and Aristotle to his precisions; and for many ages afterwards, the world knew no other but an ideal physic; nor did it pay the least attention, to the experimental or solid. In the first maxims of Idearia, we perceive many of the dogmas of the peripatetic doctrine, and in her second, many of the Cartesian ones; and they gave the name of Papyratius to the broacher of this last system, because the French word _Carte_, signifies the same as the Latin word _Papyrus_, from whence the appellative was derived. Des Cartes is ranged among the auditors of Idearia, because he was disposed instead of less, rather more than the Peripatetics, to regulate all physics by imagination and ideas. At length the mistake of this method was perceived, and Solidina was recalled from the villages to the city; and experiment and observation, which for a long time had only been in use among the rustics, and employed in the business of husbandry, to increase the product of the earth, improve the mountainous land, and to encourage the propagation, and mend the breed of herds and cattle; were not long since introduced in pomp, and countenanced by some courts, in the neighbourhood of which, academies were instituted, to examine nature by their help; and as the most celebrated of these, were the Academy of Sciences at Paris, and the Royal Society of London, which were founded under the protection of the kings of France and England, they called the two princes who were the lovers and patrons of Solidina, by the names of Galindo, and Anglosio, which were derived from the Latin words _Gallia_, and _Anglia_, which in that language signify France and England.

IX. The stranger approved of the whole, and every part of my explanation, and assured me, that by the context that followed what I had read, the intention of the author of that mysterious History, could be no other than what I had described it. But I told him I was not inclined to approve, nor could I approve of the whole and every part of its content; for that I observed in it some latitudinary expressions, which seemed to reflect upon, and were derogatory of the peripatetic doctrine, so I only acknowledged to him, that in the most essential parts, the thing seemed just and right. He replied, that as I was a Spaniard, and a sectary of the peripatetic school, my objection and the reasons for it might be admitted. Upon saying this, he took his leave of me, and pursued his journey, leaving me in a disposition to meditate on the subject of our conversation, and lay before the public, such reflections as should occur to me respecting the matter of it, which may be seen in the sequel of this discourse.

SECT. III.

X. The first thing that offers itself to our consideration, is the little or no progress, which natural reason, unassisted by experience, has made in the examination of the affairs of nature in the course of so many ages. Nature is as little understood in the schools at this day, as it was in the academies of Plato, of Lyceus, and of Aristotle. What secret have these academies developed? or what diminutive portion of this most extensive country have they discovered? What utility has the labours of so many men of excellent ingenuity, as have cultivated philosophy in the reasoning and speculative way, produced to the world? What art, either liberal or mechanical, of the many that are necessary for the service of man, or the good of the public, do we owe to speculative invention; and I might even say, what small advancement in any such art, has been derived from it? What document of the schools, has conduced to instruct a husbandman in the cultivation of his lands? They there talk much of causes, effects, productions, and dispositions of matter, but all this has not yet produced any maxim that can be relied on, for the most advantageous mode of cultivating the land, in order to dispose it to the production of this or that particular plant, nor to instruct us at what time it should be sown, nor in the least to inform us with regard to many other circumstances, that should be attended to in the raising it. Schoolmen, after the example of Aristotle, treat largely of qualities, which they place in a predicament apart, or by themselves; without having by this means, discovered any qualities at all, either in the mixtures, or the elements; but on the contrary, Aristotle has rather been miserably mistaken in those he attempted to point out, by his rules of proportion and combination; I mean in those that appertain to the air, and the water, as we have proved in another part of our works; and it would not be difficult to prove the same thing, with regard to those he has assigned to the earth. If perchance he has been right in ascertaining the qualities belonging to fire, (although in our _Physical Paradoxes_ we have denied his position with respect to its being hot in the highest degree) I say, if he has been right in this particular, it was not because philosophy had penetrated the secret, but because the thing was manifested to us by our senses.

XI. These are the organs, by which all the natural truths we are able to obtain a knowledge of are conveyed to our spirits. Even in the mathematical faculties, which affect to confide every thing to theoretical demonstrations, they cannot, except in the two elemental ones, arithmetic and geometry, safely advance a step, without holding before them, the light of experience. It was this taught the geographer, the situation and position of the divers parts of the globe; the navigator, the directive virtue of the load-stone; the static philosopher, the weight, the descent, and acceleration of motion in their descent, of heavy bodies; the mechanic and engineer, the augmentation of power by machinery, or the multiplication of purchase; the astronomer, the movements and course of the stars; the musician, the consonant and dissonant intervals of music; the optician, perspective, or the effects of vision when the eye surveys distant objects; to the catoptrician, and dioptrician, the laws of reflexion, and refraction.

SECT. IV.

XII. And it is very worthy of remarking, that even after experience had made those first discoveries, on which the theory and practice of arts are founded, those primitive lights were in general found to be insufficient to enable the understanding to make further advances in them, but it was rather found to be necessary, that the same experience should continue as they proceeded on, to direct their steps, and correct their errors. I will explain what I mean, by two examples taken from navigation.

XIII. The first regards the direction, or pointing of the magnetical needle to the pole. This admirable property, which was totally unknown to the antients, was discovered in the thirteenth century, and immediately applied to the improvement of navigation. Upon its first discovery, the philosophers, according to their wonted custom of pretending to discern the causes of things, imputed this effect, as derived from an occult sympathy with the pole, contained in the very essence, form, and substance of the loadstone; and as this is supposed to be invariable, they concluded, that the direction must infallibly be invariable also. They continued in this good faith for about four hundred years, at the end of which long period, Crinon, a pilot of Dieppe as some say, or Cabot, a Venetian Navigator as others believe, was the first who observed the declinations of the magnetical needle from the true north, that is, that it did not always point directly to the pole, but declined in different places, sometimes towards the west, and at others towards the east. The philosophers heard this novelty with great disgust, because it gave the lye to some of their most established maxims, and therefore they set about to contradict it with all their force. But in the end, they were obliged to submit to repeated experiments, authorized and confirmed, by the testimonies of people of undoubted credit.

XIV. Having afterwards discovered, that under the meridian of the Azores or western islands, there was no variation of the magnetical needle at all, the astronomers and geographers, thought they had found out a fixed station, whereat to commence the first meridian, which had before been counted arbitrarily, from whatever place they chose to begin it. But this idea soon vanished, for a little while afterwards, they discovered two other meridians, where there was no variation; the one at a head-land near _the Cape of Good Hope_, to which, on this account they gave the name of _Needle Cape_; and another, at the spot where the city of Canton is situated. Upon this, they thought they had found out a certain principle, whereon to ground a compleat system for calculating or computing variations, by graduating them for the intermediate stations, in proportion to their greater or less distance from the mean space between the two places where there was no variation.

XV. But as nature frequently mocks the ideal propositions that are fabricated by the brain of man, this time of rejoicing lasted but a few years, for they discovered, that this declination of the magnetic needle, varied more or less at the same place at different times, and that this change of variation was perpetual. This discovery, not only demolished the antecedent imagined rules, but nearly took away all hope, of their ever in future, finding out any certain one for their guidance; and this, notwithstanding many men, eminent for their skill in physics and mathematics, have long, and still do, labour at accomplishing it.

XVI. In this instance, may be seen the fallibility of the most plausible reasonings unaccompanied by experiments. And we shall see the same, in the other we are about to mention, which relates to the flux and reflux of the sea.

XVII. As the flux and reflux of the sea, is evident and apparent to all those who inhabit near the sea-coasts, and the course and changes of the Moon to all mankind, it was easy and natural, to observe the correspondence there was between the movements of the one and the other; that is, that the rising and falling of the tide, keeps pace with the rising and setting of the moon; and it is probable, that the first people who remarked this, fancied that by this single observation, they had discovered the system of these admirable movements. But this delusion was but short-lived, for they soon afterwards observed, that within the space of the same lunar month, there was a great disproportion between the rising and falling of the tide, and that it flowed higher, and ebbed lower, at the new and full moon, than it did at the quarters. But when they had advanced this step, it is likely they gave themselves credit for having discovered the whole secret, and supposed, that they knew all that was to be known of the matter; and when they observed there was so exact a correspondence, between the motions of the tide, and the phases of the moon, they did not entertain the least doubt, but that they were totally influenced by this planet. But experience also undeceived mankind with respect to this error, for they found out, that there was another variation of the tides, which did not depend upon the revolutions of the moon, but upon those of the sun; that is, that supposing other things to be equal, they rise higher, at, or near the equinoxes, than they do at the solstices. This gave them to understand, that the moon did not reign so despotic over the tides, as to exclude the sun from all share in the dominion of them.

XVIII. But after all this was ascertained, they found, that by trusting the bringing of ships into barr’d or tide harbours, to the mere combination of the before-nam’d observations, they fell into very dangerous errors; for that there are two other variations, which are very considerable, and especially one of them, and which can’t be comprehended under any general rule whatsoever; the one is with respect to the time of full sea; and the other, regards the quantum of rise of the water. The time of full sea varies at different ports, even under the same meridian, and does not happen in all of them at the same hour. They vary also with respect to the magnitude of them, because there is an enormous difference in the height they flow at some ports, to what they do at others, for the water will rise more than ten fathoms upon some coasts, and not above a few feet on others, and in others again, the rise is hardly perceptible.

SECT. V.

XIX. If the rules deduced from experimental observations are so fallible, that it is absolutely necessary in order to avoid all error, to pursue the thread of them so scrupulously, that reason should not venture to advance a step, without the light of an experiment appropriated to the business it is in search of; I say, if these rules are not to be relied on, what confidence can we place in those maxims, which derive their origin from our arbitrary ideas?

XX. Nature conforms to, and is governed by the idea of its great artificer, not by that of man; and it is strange temerity in man, to presume he can comprehend the idea of such an artificer. I have sometimes thought, that if we were told, that there were numbers of those luminous bodies in the heavens which we call stars, although we could not see them, every one would imagine, such a disposition and collocation of them in the sphere, as best suited his own fancy. One would conceive them distributed into various regular sets of figures, such as triangular, hexangular, circular, &c. which formed so many different constellations; another, that they were composed of a beautiful suit, of well ranged and harmonious groups; another, that they were disposed after the manner of flowers, which he had seen growing in parterres in some garden; another, that they were formed in such a position, as resembled the shape of various images, either mystic or natural. In fact, there would be no body, that would not attribute to them some most beautiful resemblance, or imitation, of those things which he had ever seen, that seemed most pleasing to him, either in art, or nature. Notwithstanding which, they would all deceive themselves, and be greatly surprised, upon the firmament afterwards being displayed to their view, to find the stars placed and ranged in a position, quite different and distinct from all they had imagined.

SECT. VI.

XXI. Thus it frequently happens, that men think in one manner, and God operates in another. Men suppose, and they suppose right, that the works of God are all executed with order, and in proportion; but although they suppose well, they reason ill; because they think there is no other order and proportion, than that which comes within the reach of their comprehension. The works of God, it is true are wrought with proportion; but with a sublime proportion, which is much superior to our rules. It is blind temerity in man, to imagine that God in his works, is to conform himself to our human gross ideas of proportions.

XXII. It was a confidence in such proportions, that caused Pythagoras to err egregiously in his dimensions of the magnitude, and his calculation of the distance of the heavens, which he thought to compute, by the numerical series of the intervals of music. And others were not much wiser than Pythagoras, who by fancying they had found some special perfection in the number four, chose to stamp it on, and regulate all the operations of nature by it. From hence came the four elements, the four first qualities, the four cardinal points of the globe, the four quarters of the year, and the four humours of the body.

SECT. VII.

XXIII. If even in those consequences, which to all human appearance, we deduce immediately from the truths which nature herself presents to our senses, we are sometimes liable to be mistaken; what dependance can we place in those, that are founded on principles, which without consulting nature, are established by our fancy? What consequence to all appearance could seem better inferred, than that of the repugnance of nature to a vacuum, founded on the palpable experiment of the water rising in the pump? But by the light of innumerable other experiments, the mistake was discovered; and it was found out, that the true cause of that, and all such-like phænomena, was the weight of the air.

XXIV. We see with our eyes, whether we explain the cause of it as proceeding from an intrinsic quality, or from attraction, or from impulse, that gravity precipitates bodies with a swift movement towards the earth. It seems most natural to suppose, by reasoning from the famous axiom, _sicut se habet simpliciter ad simpliciter, ita magis ad magis_, that to a duplicate gravity, there would correspond a duplicate acceleration of motion. But the fact differs widely from this proportion.

XXV. It is plain, that air is much more subtle and thin than water. Who from hence, would not infer as an unavoidable consequence, that air must penetrate all bodies which water penetrates? Notwithstanding this, we see that water penetrates paper, which air does not penetrate, or it penetrates it in so small a degree, or so slowly, that we look upon it as next to no penetration at all.

XXVI. Who judging by general or common principles, would not conclude, that wet hay was much less liable to take fire than dry? But experience teaches us, that by putting together quantities of hay too moist, it will take fire of itself, which could never have happened, if the hay had been put together sufficiently dry, or more thoroughly made.

XXVII. What maxim is better established, or more generally assented to among the naturalists, than that a vivifying heat of the blood, is indispensably necessary for the preservation of life? But with all this, Father Plumier, a learned priest of the order of Minimus, in a voyage in the Pacific ocean, for want of water, found himself under a necessity of drinking the blood of turtles, and declares, he found it as cold as the common water in Europe. (Mem. de Trevoux, an. 1704, tom. 1. page 175.) Who, agreeable to the laws of ratiocination, can say otherwise, than that the third quality, resulting from the mixing three or four fœtid things together, must be fœtid also? But experience manifests to us, that this consequence is not infallible. Mr. Lemeri bought a certain quantity of the gums galbanum, sagapenum, and opopanax, and also some bitumen of Judæa, which he put all together into a retort, and found that there resulted from the mixtures, a strongly scented oil, greatly resembling musk; now the bitumen in smell, does not in the least resemble musk, and the other three drugs are absolutely fœtid. (Hist. de l’Academ. Royal, ann. 1706.)

XXVIII. If a philosopher, destitute of all other information, except that which he had acquired in the schools, should be told that two liquids, which to the touch appear cold, should upon being mixed together, not only heat and boil, but also emit a flame; he would be in a terrible agitation, and armed with his infallible conclusive principle, _that nothing can communicate a quality which it does not possess_, would exclaim against the proposition. But let him exclaim as much as he will, it is a certain fact, that from mixing a pure acid, with the essential oil of an aromatic plant, there will result that commotion.

XXIX. We know that water, is much heavier than air; and we also know, that the vapours which arise from the earth, are nothing else but particles of water, very minutely divided, and consequently, that they must be much heavier than particles of air of the same size. We know also, that a liquid cannot ascend above another, when they are put together, except when it’s particles of equal size are lighter than those of the other. From these premises, it should follow as an infallible consequence, that these vapours cannot rise superior to the air we breathe. But let this consequence appear ever so infallible, experience convinces us that the fact is otherwise.

XXX. Nobody is ignorant, that the aromatic species, such as the clove, the pimienta, and the cinnamon, are hot or heating, and that the regions nearest the poles are cold, and those nearest the equinoctial hot. From these premises, what naturalist would not infer, that the use of these species would be less pernicious to the inhabitants of the cold regions, than to those of the hot? But experience is ever demonstrating to us the contrary. For a scruple of clove is more offensive to, and has a greater effect on the first, than a drachm has on the last.

XXXI. And similar to this, has been the experience of the Hollanders, in some of their voyages to the East Indies. It happened once, that upon passing the line, the greatest part of the people belonging to a ship were taken sick, and that more than half of them died, and that those only recovered, to whom in their sickness they gave great quantities of brandy. The medical men found great difficulty in believing, that these people could owe the preservation of their lives to drinking to excess of a liquor, which if not taken sparingly and with moderation, is found to be very pernicious to health. But in the end, they found themselves obliged to yield to experience; and admit of the liberal use of brandy, which afterwards delivered with equal success, all the afflicted from their illness.

XXXII. It is then absolutely necessary to submit to experience, and if we are not disposed to abandon the real road of truth, to seek for nature in herself, and not in the deceitful image which our fancy forms of her.

SECT. VIII.

XXXIII. I am not ignorant that there are some schoolmen, who represent the application to experiments, as disgraceful to, and beneath the dignity of philosophy. But this is a most absurd error, for at this rate, studying the imaginations of men, would be a more honourable occupation, than ruminating on the works of God. In books of theory, we contemplate human ideas; in natural entities, divine ones. Let reason now determine, which is the most noble study.

XXXIV. The prince of philosophers, Aristotle, thought differently in this respect to the present school ones, for he said, we should not disdain to examine with our senses, the most trifling works of nature, for that we should find in them all, marks of sublime wisdom, and just and beautiful ingenuity: _Aggredi enim quæque sine ullo pudore debemus, cum in omnibus naturæ numen, et honesium, pulchrumque insit ingenium._ For so it is, that in the most humble plant, in the most vile insect, and in the most rude rock, we see the traces of an omnipotent hand, and the marks of infinite wisdom.

XXXV. Besides this, it is a matter of great importance to him who is in search of truth, to chuse the path that leads directly on to his object, and not to pursue that which will conduct him out of his way, although it should to the eye, appear the most desirable, and the most pleasant to walk through. There is no doubt, that a physician in a college, mounted in a professional chair, and reading a lecture, makes a more pompous figure, than when he is attending to, and observing the dissection of a dead body in an hospital; but it is by attending to the dissection, that he attains a knowledge of the situation and arrangement of the internal parts of the body, which he could never have acquired, by reasoning or disputing all his life long in a school. Ideal gold, is possessed in imagination by lazy people, who while they are sleeping in their beds, dream it is showered down on them; but the true ore, can only be acquired by force of labour, and digging in the mines with diligence and industry. And in no other manner, otherwise than in appearance only, can we attain more, than that shadow of truth, which we call probability, for these are the largest advances we can make, by the force of our imaginations exerted in the retirements of the closet; and the truth itself, is only to be found by scrutinizing sensible objects, and searching in them, for the hidden secrets of nature.

SECT. IX.