Bacon's Essays, and Wisdom of the Ancients
the chastity of Minerva—which heinous offence it doubtless was, that
caused the punishment of having his liver gnawed by the vulture. The
meaning seems to be this,—that when men are puffed up with arts and
knowledge, they often try to subdue even the divine wisdom and bring
it under the dominion of sense and reason, whence inevitably follows a
perpetual and restless rending and tearing of the mind. A sober and
humble distinction must, therefore, be made betwixt divine and human
things, and betwixt the oracles of sense and faith, unless mankind had
rather choose an heretical religion, and a fictitious and romantic
philosophy.[643]
The last particular in the fable is the Games of the Torch, instituted
to Prometheus, which again relates to arts and sciences, as well as the
invention of fire, for the commemoration and celebration whereof these
games were held. And here we have an extremely prudent admonition,
directing us to expect the perfection of the sciences from succession,
and not from the swiftness and abilities of any single person; for
he who is fleetest and strongest in the course may perhaps be less
fit to keep his torch alight, since there is danger of its going
out from too rapid as well as from too slow a motion.[644] But this
kind of contest, with the torch, seems to have been long dropped and
neglected; the sciences appearing to have flourished principally in
their first authors, as Aristotle, Galen, Euclid, Ptolemy, &c.; whilst
their successors have done very little, or scarce made any attempts.
But it were highly to be wished that these games might be renewed,
to the honor of Prometheus, or human nature, and that they might
excite contest, emulation, and laudable endeavors, and the design meet
with such success as not to hang tottering, tremulous, and hazarded,
upon the torch of any single person. Mankind, therefore, should be
admonished to rouse themselves, and try and exert their own strength
and chance, and not place all their dependence upon a few men, whose
abilities and capacities, perhaps, are not greater than their own.
These are the particulars which appear to us shadowed out by this trite
and vulgar fable, though without denying that there may be contained
in it several intimations that have a surprising correspondence with
the Christian mysteries. In particular, the voyage of Hercules, made
in a pitcher, to release Prometheus, bears an allusion to the word of
God, coming in the frail vessel of the flesh to redeem mankind. But we
indulge ourselves no such liberties as these, for fear of using strange
fire at the altar of the Lord.
XXVII.—ICARUS AND SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS, OR THE MIDDLE WAY.
EXPLAINED OF MEDIOCRITY IN NATURAL AND MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
Mediocrity, or the holding a middle course, has been highly extolled in
morality, but little in matters of science, though no less useful and
proper here; whilst in politics it is held suspected, and ought to be
employed with judgment. The ancients described mediocrity in manners by
the course prescribed to Icarus; and in matters of the understanding
by the steering betwixt Scylla and Charybdis, on account of the great
difficulty and danger in passing those straits.
Icarus, being to fly across the sea, was ordered by his father neither
to soar too high nor fly too low, for, as his wings were fastened
together with wax, there was danger of its melting by the sun’s heat in
too high a flight, and of its becoming less tenacious by the moisture
if he kept too near the vapor of the sea. But he, with a juvenile
confidence, soared aloft, and fell down headlong.
EXPLANATION.—The fable is vulgar, and easily interpreted; for the path
of virtue lies straight between excess on the one side, and defect on
the other. And no wonder that excess should prove the bane of Icarus,
exulting in juvenile strength and vigor; for excess is the natural vice
of youth, as defect is that of old age; and if a man must perish by
either, Icarus chose the better of the two; for all defects are justly
esteemed more depraved than excesses. There is some magnanimity in
excess, that, like a bird, claims kindred with the heavens; but defect
is a reptile, that basely crawls upon the earth. It was excellently
said by Heraclitus: “A dry light makes the best soul;” for if the soul
contracts moisture from the earth, it perfectly degenerates and sinks.
On the other hand, moderation must be observed, to prevent this fine
light from burning, by its too great subtility and dryness. But these
observations are common.
In matters of the understanding, it requires great skill and a
particular felicity to steer clear of Scylla and Charybdis. If the ship
strikes upon Scylla, it is dashed in pieces against the rocks; if upon
Charybdis, it is swallowed outright. This allegory is pregnant with
matter; but we shall only observe the force of it lies here, that a
mean be observed in every doctrine and science, and in the rules and
axioms thereof, between the rocks of distinctions and the whirlpools
of universalities: for these two are the bane and shipwreck of fine
geniuses and arts.
XXVIII.—SPHINX, OR SCIENCE.
EXPLAINED OF THE SCIENCES.
They relate that Sphinx was a monster, variously formed, having the
face and voice of a virgin, the wings of a bird, and the talons of a
griffin. She resided on the top of a mountain, near the city Thebes,
and also beset the highways. Her manner was to lie in ambush and seize
the travellers, and having them in her power, to propose to them
certain dark and perplexed riddles, which it was thought she received
from the Muses, and if her wretched captives could not solve and
interpret these riddles, she, with great cruelty, fell upon them, in
their hesitation and confusion, and tore them to pieces. This plague
having reigned a long time, the Thebans at length offered their kingdom
to the man who could interpret her riddles, there being no other way
to subdue her. Œdipus, a penetrating and prudent man, though lame
in his feet, excited by so great a reward, accepted the condition, and
with a good assurance of mind, cheerfully presented himself before the
monster, who directly asked him: “What creature that was, which, being
born four-footed, afterwards became two-footed, then three-footed, and
lastly four-footed again?” Œdipus, with presence of mind, replied it
was man, who, upon his first birth and infant state, crawled upon all
fours in endeavoring to walk; but not long after went upright upon his
two natural feet; again, in old age walked three-footed, with a stick;
and at last, growing decrepit, lay four-footed confined to his bed;
and having by this exact solution obtained the victory, he slew the
monster, and, laying the carcass upon an ass, led her away in triumph;
and upon this he was, according to the agreement, made king of Thebes.
EXPLANATION.—This is an elegant, instructive fable, and seems invented
to represent science, especially as joined with practice. For science
may, without absurdity, be called a monster, being strangely gazed
at and admired by the ignorant and unskilful. Her figure and form
is various, by reason of the vast variety of subjects that science
considers; her voice and countenance are represented female, by
reason of her gay appearance and volubility of speech; wings are
added, because the sciences and their inventions run and fly about
in a moment, for knowledge like light communicated from one torch
to another, is presently caught and copiously diffused; sharp and
hooked talons are elegantly attributed to her, because the axioms and
arguments of science enter the mind, lay hold of it, fix it down, and
keep it from moving or slipping away. This the sacred philosopher
observed, when he said: “The words of the wise are like goads or nails
driven far in.”[645] Again, all science seems placed on high, as it
were on the tops of mountains that are hard to climb; for science is
justly imagined a sublime and lofty thing, looking down upon ignorance
from an eminence, and at the same time taking an extensive view on all
sides, as is usual on the tops of mountains. Science is said to beset
the highways, because through all the journey and peregrination of
human life there is matter and occasion offered of contemplation.
Sphinx is said to propose various difficult questions and riddles to
men, which she received from the Muses; and these questions, so long
as they remain with the Muses, may very well be unaccompanied with
severity, for while there is no other end of contemplation and inquiry
but that of knowledge alone, the understanding is not oppressed, or
driven to straits and difficulties, but expatiates and ranges at large,
and even receives a degree of pleasure from doubt and variety; but
after the Muses have given over their riddles to Sphinx, that is, to
practice, which urges and impels to action, choice, and determination,
then it is that they become torturing, severe, and trying, and, unless
solved and interpreted, strangely perplex and harass the human mind,
rend it every way, and perfectly tear it to pieces. All the riddles of
Sphinx, therefore, have two conditions annexed, viz: dilaceration to
those who do not solve them, and empire to those that do. For he who
understands the thing proposed, obtains his end, and every artificer
rules over his work.[646]
Sphinx has no more than two kinds of riddles, one relating to the
nature of things, the other to the nature of man; and correspondent to
these, the prizes of the solution are two kinds of empire,—the empire
over nature, and the empire over man. For the true and ultimate end of
natural philosophy is dominion over natural things, natural bodies,
remedies, machines, and numberless other particulars, though the
schools, contented with what spontaneously offers, and swollen with
their own discourses, neglect, and in a manner despise, both things and
works.
But the riddle proposed to Œdipus, the solution whereof acquired
him the Theban kingdom, regarded the nature of man; for he who has
thoroughly looked into and examined human nature, may in a manner
command his own fortune, and seems born to acquire dominion and rule.
Accordingly, Virgil properly makes the arts of government to be the
arts of the Romans.[647] It was, therefore, extremely apposite in
Augustus Cæsar to use the image of Sphinx in his signet, whether this
happened by accident or by design; for he of all men was deeply versed
in politics, and through the course of his life very happily solved
abundance of new riddles with regard to the nature of man; and unless
he had done this with great dexterity and ready address, he would
frequently have been involved in imminent danger, if not destruction.
It is with the utmost elegance added in the fable, that when Sphinx was
conquered, her carcass was laid upon an ass; for there is nothing so
subtile and abstruse, but after being once made plain, intelligible,
and common, it may be received by the slowest capacity.
We must not omit that Sphinx was conquered by a lame man, and impotent
in his feet; for men usually make too much haste to the solution of
Sphinx’s riddles; whence it happens, that she prevailing, their minds
are rather racked and torn by disputes, than invested with command by
works and effects.
XXIX.—PROSERPINE, OR SPIRIT.
EXPLAINED OF THE SPIRIT INCLUDED IN NATURAL BODIES.
They tell us, Pluto having, upon that memorable division of empire
among the gods, received the infernal regions for his share, despaired
of winning any one of the goddesses in marriage by an obsequious
courtship, and therefore through necessity resolved upon a rape.
Having watched his opportunity, he suddenly seized upon Proserpine,
a most beautiful virgin, the daughter of Ceres, as she was gathering