Bacon's Essays, and Wisdom of the Ancients
Pentheus, here denotes the ends of actions; whence they know not what
course to take, but remaining undetermined and unresolved in their
views and designs, they are merely driven about by every sudden gust
and impulse of the mind.
XI.—ORPHEUS, OR PHILOSOPHY.
EXPLAINED OF NATURAL AND MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
INTRODUCTION.—The fable of Orpheus, though trite and common, has never
been well interpreted, and seems to hold out a picture of universal
philosophy; for to this sense may be easily transferred what is said
of his being a wonderful and perfectly divine person, skilled in all
kinds of harmony, subduing and drawing all things after him by sweet
and gentle methods and modulations. For the labors of Orpheus exceed
the labors of Hercules, both in power and dignity, as the works of
knowledge exceed the works of strength.
FABLE.—Orpheus having his beloved wife snatched from him by sudden
death, resolved upon descending to the infernal regions, to try if, by
the power of his harp, he could reobtain her. And, in effect, he so
appeased and soothed the infernal powers by the melody and sweetness
of his harp and voice, that they indulged him the liberty of taking
her back, on condition that she should follow him behind, and he not
turn to look upon her till they came into open day; but he, through
the impatience of his care and affection, and thinking himself almost
past danger, at length looked behind him, whereby the condition was
violated, and she again precipitated to Pluto’s regions. From this
time Orpheus grew pensive and sad, a hater of the sex, and went into
solitude, where, by the same sweetness of his harp and voice, he first
drew the wild beasts of all sorts about him; so that, forgetting their
natures, they were neither actuated by revenge, cruelty, lust, hunger,
or the desire of prey, but stood gazing about him, in a tame and gentle
manner, listening attentively to his music. Nay, so great was the power
and efficacy of his harmony, that it even caused the trees and stones
to remove, and place themselves in a regular manner about him. When
he had for a time, and with great admiration, continued to do this,
at length the Thracian women, raised by the instigation of Bacchus,
first blew a deep and hoarse-sounding horn, in such an outrageous
manner, that it quite drowned the music of Orpheus. And thus the power
which, as the link of their society, held all things in order, being
dissolved, disturbance reigned anew; each creature returned to its own
nature, and pursued and preyed upon its fellow, as before. The rocks
and woods also started back to their former places; and even Orpheus
himself was at last torn to pieces by these female furies, and his
limbs scattered all over the desert. But, in sorrow and revenge for his
death, the River Helicon, sacred to the Muses, hid its waters under
ground, and rose again in other places.
EXPLANATION.—The fable receives this explanation. The music of Orpheus
is of two kinds; one that appeases the infernal powers, and the other
that draws together the wild beasts and trees. The former properly
relates to natural, and the latter to moral philosophy, or civil
society. The reinstatement and restoration of corruptible things is
the noblest work of natural philosophy; and, in a less degree, the
preservation of bodies in their own state, or a prevention of their
dissolution and corruption. And if this be possible, it can certainly
be effected no other way than by proper and exquisite attemperations of
nature; as it were by the harmony and fine touching of the harp. But
as this is a thing of exceeding great difficulty, the end is seldom
obtained; and that, probably, for no reason more than a curious and
unseasonable impatience and solicitude.
And, therefore, philosophy, being almost unequal to the task, has cause
to grow sad, and hence betakes itself to human affairs, insinuating
into men’s minds the love of virtue, equity, and peace, by means of
eloquence and persuasion; thus forming men into societies; bringing
them under laws and regulations; and making them forget their unbridled
passions and affections, so long as they hearken to precepts and submit
to discipline. And thus they soon after build themselves habitations,
form cities, cultivate lands, plant orchards, gardens, &c. So that they
may not improperly be said to remove and call the trees and stones
together.
And this regard to civil affairs is justly and regularly placed after
diligent trial made for restoring the mortal body; the attempt being
frustrated in the end—because the unavoidable necessity of death, thus
evidently laid before mankind, animates them to seek a kind of eternity
by works of perpetuity, character, and fame.
It is also prudently added, that Orpheus was afterwards averse to women
and wedlock, because the indulgence of the married state, and the
natural affections which men have for their children, often prevent
them from entering upon any grand, noble, or meritorious enterprise for
the public good; as thinking it sufficient to obtain immortality by
their descendants, without endeavoring at great actions.
And even the works of knowledge, though the most excellent among human
things, have their periods; for after kingdoms and commonwealths have
flourished for a time, disturbances, seditions, and wars, often arise,
in the din whereof, first the laws are silent, and not heard; and then
men return to their own depraved natures—whence cultivated lands and
cities soon become desolate and waste. And if this disorder continues,
learning and philosophy is infallibly torn to pieces; so that only
some scattered fragments thereof can afterwards be found up and down,
in a few places, like planks after a shipwreck. And barbarous times
succeeding, the River Helicon dips under-ground; that is, letters are
buried, till things having undergone their due course of changes,
learning rises again, and shows its head, though seldom in the same
place, but in some other nation.[629]
XII.—CŒLUM, OR BEGINNINGS.
EXPLAINED OF THE CREATION, OR ORIGIN OF ALL THINGS.
The poets relate, that Cœlum was the most ancient of all the gods;
that his parts of generation were cut off by his son Saturn; that
Saturn had a numerous offspring, but devoured all his sons, as soon
as they were born; that Jupiter at length escaped the common fate;
and when grown up, drove his father Saturn into Tartarus; usurped the
kingdom; cut off his father’s genitals, with the same knife wherewith
Saturn had dismembered Cœlum, and throwing them into the sea, thence
sprung Venus.
Before Jupiter was well established in his empire, two memorable wars
were made upon him; the first by the Titans, in subduing of whom, Sol,
the only one of the Titans who favored Jupiter, performed him singular
service; the second by the giants, who being destroyed and subdued by
the thunder and arms of Jupiter, he now reigned secure.
EXPLANATION.—This fable appears to be an enigmatical account of the
origin of all things, not greatly differing from the philosophy
afterwards embraced by Democritus, who expressly asserts the eternity
of matter, but denies the eternity of the world; thereby approaching to
the truth of sacred writ, which makes chaos, or uninformed matter, to
exist before the six days’ works.
The meaning of the fable seems to be this: Cœlum denotes the concave
space, or vaulted roof that incloses all matter, and Saturn the matter
itself, which cuts off all power of generation from his father; as one
and the same quantity of matter remains invariable in nature, without
addition or diminution. But the agitations and struggling motions of
matter, first produced certain imperfect and ill-joined compositions
of things, as it were so many first rudiments, or essays of worlds;
till, in process of time, there arose a fabric capable of preserving
its form and structure. Whence the first age was shadowed out by the
reign of Saturn; who, on account of the frequent dissolutions, and
short durations of things, was said to devour his children. And the
second age was denoted by the reign of Jupiter; who thrust, or drove
those frequent and transitory changes into Tartarus—a place expressive
of disorder. This place seems to be the middle space, between the
lower heavens and the internal parts of the earth, wherein disorder,
imperfection, mutation, mortality, destruction, and corruption, are
principally found.
Venus was not born during the former generation of things, under the
reign of Saturn; for whilst discord and jar had the upper hand of
concord and uniformity in the matter of the universe, a change of
the entire structure was necessary. And in this manner things were
generated and destroyed, before Saturn was dismembered. But when this
manner of generation ceased, there immediately followed another,
brought about by Venus, or a perfect and established harmony of things;
whereby changes were wrought in the parts, whilst the universal fabric
remained entire and undisturbed. Saturn, however, is said to be thrust
out and dethroned, not killed, and become extinct; because, agreeably
to the opinion of Democritus, the world might relapse into its old
confusion and disorder, which Lucretius hoped would not happen in his
time.[630]
But now, when the world was compact, and held together by its own
bulk and energy, yet there was no rest from the beginning; for first,
there followed considerable motions and disturbances in the celestial
regions, though so regulated and moderated by the power of the Sun,
prevailing over the heavenly bodies, as to continue the world in its
state. Afterwards there followed the like in the lower parts, by
inundations, storms, winds, general earthquakes, &c., which, however,
being subdued and kept under, there ensued a more peaceable and lasting
harmony, and consent of things.
It may be said of this fable, that it includes philosophy; and again,
that philosophy includes the fable; for we know, by faith, that all
these things are but the oracle of sense, long since ceased and
decayed; but the matter and fabric of the world being justly attributed
to a creator.
XIII.—PROTEUS, OR MATTER.
EXPLAINED OF MATTER AND ITS CHANGES.
Proteus, according to the poets, was Neptune’s herdsman; an old man,
and a most extraordinary prophet, who understood things past and
present, as well as future; so that besides the business of divination,
he was the revealer and interpreter of all antiquity, and secrets of
every kind. He lived in a vast cave, where his custom was to tell over
his herd of sea-calves at noon, and then to sleep. Whoever consulted
him, had no other way of obtaining an answer, but by binding him with
manacles and fetters; when he, endeavoring to free himself, would
change into all kinds of shapes and miraculous forms; as of fire,
water, wild beasts, &c.; till at length he resumed his own shape again.
EXPLANATION.—This fable seems to point at the secrets of nature, and
the states of matter. For the person of Proteus denotes matter, the
oldest of all things, after God himself;[631] that resides, as in a
cave, under the vast concavity of the heavens. He is represented as the
servant of Neptune, because the various operations and modifications
of matter are principally wrought in a fluid state. The herd, or flock
of Proteus, seems to be no other than the several kinds of animals,
plants, and minerals, in which matter appears to diffuse and spend
itself; so that after having formed these several species, and as it
were finished its task, it seems to sleep and repose, without otherwise
attempting to produce any new ones. And this is the moral of Proteus’s
counting his herd, then going to sleep.
This is said to be done at noon, not in the morning or evening; by