» DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Treasure 'Room ■hr. (feu* &qsy y >%z %^ S/fa.4/2± tj 4*4**iAy. £ -tut ^U~~*. a^^ ?&yO~r~. Y~~o~, €^_ ^ ./^ CO 'ft tf+i^^y^ y 4*Zu^« cv *~/e/7, *<*+* ***** /*&* 4>^, "*~ /5 f-^^J fif*"- 4 - ^^ A fay ; ■ft** '*Cw A^ *^_ ^ General Introduction; / Or, / Preliminary Treatise on Method. / " Non simpliciter nil sciri posse ; sed nil nisi certo ordine certd via sciri posse." Bacon. / Section I. / On the Philosophical Principles of Method. Collation : Demy quarto, pp. 43. There is no Title-page proper, the Title (as above) being imposed upon the upper portion of the first page, after the manner of a ' dropped head.' There are head-lines throughout, each verso being headed Introduction, and each recto On the Science of Method. There is no printer's imprint. The text of the Treatise occupies pp. 1 — 43. Upon the reverse of the last page is a table of the Four Divisions of the work. The signatures are b — f (5 sheets, each 4 leaves), plus g (a half-sheet of 2 leaves). The First Edition. Bound in polished calf by Riviere, with gilt edges. The leaves measure 11 x 81 inches. The book is undated; it was issued in January, ISIS. Coleridge's Treatise on Method was first published in the first volume of The Encyclopaedia Metropolitana, 1818. The pamphlet described above is an off-print, of which a few copies were struck for private distribution in advance of the issue of the Encyclopaedia, The number of copies so produced must have been extremely limited. The only othef example I have met with was the property of the late Ernest Hartley Coleridge-, Tr.&.A' &0%6 S? GENERAL INTRODUCTION; OR, PRELIMINARY TREATISE ON METHOD. Noil siinplicitet nil sciri posse ; sed nil nisi certo ordine certa. viU sciri posse." Bacox. SECTION I. ON THE PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES OF METHOD. The word Encyclopedia is too familiar to modern literature to require, in this Sectioni, place, any detailed explanation. It is current amongst us as the title of various Nature of the work. Dictionaries of Science, whose professed object is to furnish a compendium of human knowledge, whatever may be their plan. But to methodize such a compendium has either never been attempted, or the attempt has failed, from the total disregard of those general connecting principles, on which Method essentially depends. In pre- senting, therefore, to the Public an entirely new work, intended to be methodically arranged, we are not insensible to the difficulties of our undertaking ; but we trust that we have found a clue to the labyrinth in those considerations which we are now about to submit to the reader. As Method is thus avowed to be the principal aim and distinguishing feature of our publication, it becomes us, at the commencement, clearly to explain what we mean in this Introduction by that word ; to exhibit the principles on which alone a correct philoso- phical Method can be founded; to illustrate those principles by their application to distinct studies and to the history of the human mind ; and lastly to apply them to the general concatenation of the several arts and sciences, and to the most perspicuous, b 2 INTRODUCTION. elegant, and useful manner of developing each particular study. Such are the objects Section t. of this Essay, which we conceive must form a necessary Introduction to a work, that is designated in its title from the place whence it originates, — the Encyclopaedia Metro- politana; but claims from its mode of execution to be also called "a Methodical Compendium of Human Knowledge." m'VT 1 The word Method (fisOoSos), being of Grecian origin, first formed and applied by that acute, ingenious, and accurate people, to the purposes of scientific arrangement ; it is in the Greek language that we must seek for its primary and fundamental signi- fication. Now, in Greek, it literally means a way, or path, of transit. Henee the first idea of Method is a progressive transition from one step in any course to another ; and where the word Method is applied with reference to many such transitions in con- tinuity, it necessarily implies a principle of unity with progression. But that which unites, and makes many things one in the mind of man, must be an act of the mind itself, a manifestation of intellect, and not a spontaneous and uncertain pro- duction of circumstances. This act of the mind, then, this leading thought, this " key note " of the harmony, this " subtile, cementing, subterraneous" power, borrow- ing a phrase from the nomenclature of legislation, we may not inaptly call the initiative of all Method. It is manifest, that the wider the sphere of transition is, the more comprehensive and commanding must be the initiative : and if we would discover an universal Method by which every step in our progress through the whole circle of art and science should be directed, it is absolutely necessary that we should seek it in the very interior and central essence of the human intellect. aiieScience To this point we are. led by mere reflection on the meaning of the word Method. We discover, that it cannot, otherwise than by abuse, be applied to a dead and arbitrary arrangement, containing in itself no principle of progression. We discover, that there is a Science of Method; and that that science, like all others, must necessarily have its principles; which it therefore becomes our duty to consider, in so far at least as they may be necessary to the arrangement of a Methodical Encyclopaedia. its objects, All things, in. us, and about us, are a chaos, without Method : and so long as the- tione. mind is entirely passive, so long as there is an habitual submission of the understanding to mere events and images, as such, without any attempt to classify and arrange them, so long the chaos must continue. There may be transition, but there can never be progress; there may be sensation, but there cannot be thought : for the total absence of Method renders thinking impracticable; as we find that partial defects of Method pjoportionably render thinking a trouble and a fatigue. But as soon as the mind becomes accustomed, to contemplate, not things only, but likewise relations of things, ON THE SCIENCE OP METHOD. 3 ii.tro.iuc- there is immediate need of some path or way of transit from one to the other of the Sce**>i- lion. r J Sa^N'-N-' things related ; — there must be some law of agreement or of contrast between them ; there must be some mode of comparison ; in short, there must be Method. We may, therefore, assert that the relations of things form the prime objects, or so to speak, the materials of Method : and that the contemplation of those relations is the indispensable condition of thinking methodically. Of these relations of things, we distinguish two principal kinds. One of them is the relation by which we understand that a thing must be : the other, that by which we merely perceive that it is. The one, we call the relation of Law, using that word in its highest and original sense, namely, that of laying down a rule to which the subjects of the law must necessarily conform. The other, we call the relation of Theory. The relation of Law is in its absolute perfection conceivable only of God, that Relation of * Law. Supreme Light, and Living Law, " in whom we live and move, and have our being;" who is £v iravTi, and n-po rtav iravrwv. But yet the human mind is capable of viewing some re- lations of things as necessarily existent ; that is to say, as predetermined by a truth in the mind itself, pregnant with the consequence of other truths in an indefinite progres- sion. Of such truths, some continue always to exist in and for the mind alone, forming the pure sciences, moral or intellectual; whilst others, though originating in the mind, constitute what are commonly called the great laws of nature, and form the groundwork of the mived sciences, such as those of Mechanics and Astronomy. The second relation is that of Theory, in which the existing forms and qualities of Relation of Theory. objects, discovered by observation, suggest a given arrangement of them to the mind, not merely for the purposes of more easy remembrance and communication ; but for those of understanding, and sometimes of controlling them. The studies to which this class of relations is subservient, are more properly called scientific arts than sciences. Medicine, Chemistry, and Physiology, are examples of a Method founded on this second sort of relation, which, as well as the former, always supposes the necessary connection of cause and effect. The relations of law and theory have each their Methods. Between these two, lies fine Art*. the Method of the Fine Arts, a Method in which certain great truths, composing, what are usually called the laws of taste, necessarily predominate; but in which there are also other laws, dependent on the external objects of sight and sound, which these arts embrace. To prove the comparative value and dignity of the first relation, it will be sufficient to observe that what is called « tinkling" verse is disagreeable to the accom- plished critic in poetry, and that a fine musical taste is soon dissatisfied with the b 2 4 INTRODUCTION. Iu tion UC ' Harmonica, or any similar instrument of glass or steel, because the body of the sound J^^_ v ^ v ^ h ^ (as the Italians phrase it), or that effect which is derived from the materials, encroaches too far on the effect derived from the proportions of the notes, which proportions are in fact laws of the mind, analogous to the laws of Arithmetic and Geometry. Principle "We have stated, that Method implies both an uniting and a progressive power. of union. -to r Now the relations of things are not united in human conception at random — humano capiti — cervicem equinam; but there is some rule, some mode of union, more or less strictly necessary. Where it is absolutely necessary, we have called it a relation of law; and as by law we mean the laying down the rule, so the rule laid down we call, ideas. in the ancient and proper sense of the word, an Idea : and consequently the words Idea and Law, are correlative terms, differing only as object and subject, as being and truth. It is extremely necessary to advert to this use of the word Idea; since, in modern philosophy, almost any and every exercise of any and every mental faculty, has been abusively called by this name, to the utter confusion and unmethodising of the whole science of the human mind, and indeed of all other knowledge whatsoever. Definite or The idea may exist in a clear, distinct, definite form, as that of a circle in the instinctive. » • mind of an accurate geometrician ; or it may be a mere instinct, a vague appetency toward something which the mind incessantly hunts for but cannot find, like a name which has escaped our recollection, or the impulse which fills the young poet's eye with tears, he knows not why. In the infancy of the human mind,, all our ideas, are instincts ; and language is happily contrived to lead us from the vague to the distinct, from the imperfect to the full and finished form : the boy knows that his hoop is round, and this, in after years, helps to teach him, that in a circle, all the lines drawn from the centre to the circumference, are equal. It will be seen, in the sequel,, that this distinction between the instinctive approach toward an idea, and the idea itself* is of high importance in methodising art and science, pro^esstonf From the first, or initiative idea, as from a seed, successive ideas germinate. Thus, from the idea of a triangle, necessarily follows that of equality between the sum of its three angles, and two right angles. This is ihep?inciple of an indefinite, not to say infinite, progression ; but this progression, which is truly Method, requires not only the proper choice of an initiative, but also the following it out through all its ramifications. It requires, in short, a constant wakefulness of mind ; so that if we wander but in a single instance from our path, we cannot reach the goal, but by retracing our steps to the point of divergency, and thence beginning our progress anew. Thus, a ship beating off ami on an unknown coast, often takes, in nautical phrase, " a new departure;" and thus it is necessary often to recur to that regulating process, which the French tioiu ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 5 inuoduc- language so happily expresses by the word sorienter, i. e. to find out the east for our- ^^!i^ selves, and so to put to rights our faulty reckoning. The habit of Method, should always be present and effective ; but in order to render j^ of it so, a certain training, or education of the mind, is indispensably necessary. Events adapted w ' and images, the lively and spirit-stirring machinery of the external world, are like light, and air, and moisture, to the seed of the mind, which would else rot and perish. In all processes of mental evolution the objects of the senses must stimulate the mind ; and the mind must in turn assimilate and digest the food which it thus receives from without. Method, therefore, must result from the due mean, or balance, between our passive impressions and the mind's re-action on them. So in the healthful state of the human body, waking and sleep, rest and labour, reciprocally succeed each other, and mutually contribute to liveliness, and activity/ and strength. There are certain stores proper,, and as it were, indigenous to the mind, such as the ideas of number and figure, and the logical forms and combinations of conception or thought. The mind that is rich and exuberant in this intellectual wealth, is apt, like a miser, to dwell upon the vain contemplation of its riches, is disposed to generalize and methodize to excess, ever philosophising, and never descending to action ; — spreading its wings high in the air above some beloved spot, but never flying far and wide over earth and seai to seek food, or to enjoy the endless beauties of nature; the fresh morning, and the warm noon, and the dewy eve. On the other hand, still less is to be expected, toward the metho- dising of science, from the man who flutters about in blindness, like the bat ; or is carried hither and thither, like the turtle sleeping on the wave, and fancying,, beeause he moves, that he is in progress. The paths in which we may pursue a methodical course are manifold: at the Proper di. c i • t i i rection of. head of each stands its pepuhar and guiding idea ; and those ideas are as regularly subordinate in dignity, as the paths to which they point are various and eccentric in direction. The world has suffered much, in modern times, from a subversion of the natural and necessary order of science ; from elevating the terrestrial, as it has been called, above the celestial ; and from summoning reason and faith to the bar of that limited physical experience, to which by the true laws of Method, they owe no obe- dience. The subordination, of which we here speak, is not that which depends on immediate practical utility : for the utility of human powers, in their practical applica- tion, depends on the circumstances of the moment; and at one time strength is essential to our very existence, at another time skill : and even Cresar in a fever could ' cry— Give me some drink Titinius, As a sick girl.- 6 INTRODUCTION. Ia «on UC ' * n trut ^ t ^ iere * s scarcel y an y on e of the powers or faculties with which the Divine Section i. v- " v * w/ Goodness has endowed his creatures, which may not in its turn be a source of paramount benefit and usefulness ; for every thing around us is full of blessings : nor is there any line of honest occupation in which we would dare to affirm, that by a proper exercise of the talent committed to his charge, an individual might not justly advance himself to highest praise. But we now allude to the subordination which necessarily arises among the different branches of knowledge, according to the difference of those S?d d eas 0n ideas D y w hich they are initiated and directed ; for there is a gradation of ideas, as of ranks in a well ordered state, or of commands in a well regulated army; and thus above all partial forms, there is one universal form of good and fair, the KaXoicayaOov of the Platonic philosophy. Hence the expressions of Lord Bacon, who in his great work the Novum Organuni, speaks so much and so often of the lumen siccum, the pure light, which from a central focus, as it were, diffuses its rays all around, and forms a lucid sphere of knowledge and of truth. ■Metaphy- We distinguish ideas into those of essential property, and those of natural S1C&1 311(1 phyjicaL existence; in other words, into metaphysical and physical ideas. Metaphysical ideas, or those which relate to the essence of things as possible, are of the highest class. Thus, in accurate language, we say, the essence of a circle, not its nature; because, in the conception of forms purely geometrical, there is no expression or implication of their actual existence : and our reasoning upon them is totally independent of the fact, whether any such forms ever existed in nature, or not. Physical ideas are those which we mean to express, when we speak of the nature of a thing actually existing and cognizable by our faculties, whether the thing be material or immaterial, bodily or mental. Thus, the laws of memory, the laws of vision, the laws of vegetation, the laws of crystallization, are all physical ideas, dependent for their accuracy, on the more or less careful observation of things actually existing. Nature. In speaking of the word Nature, however, we must distinguish its two principal uses, viz. first, that to which we have adverted, and according to which it signifies whatever is requisite to the reality of a thing as existent, such as the nature of an animal or a tree, distinguished from the animal or tree itself : and secondly, the sum total of things, as far as they are objects of our senses. In the first of these two meanings, the word Nature . conveys a physical idea, in the other only a material or sensible impression. Mere ai- Even natural substances, it is true, may be classed and arranged for various pur- rangemtnt • ° poses, in a certain order. Such mere arrangement, however, is not properly metho- dical, but rather a preparation toward Method ; as the compilation of a dictionary is a preparation for classical study. 4 ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 7 The limits of our present Essay will not allow us to do more than briefly to touch Section L the chief topics of a general dissertation on Method ; but enough we trust has here been said, to render intelligible the principles on which our Methodical Encyclopaedia must be constructed. We have shewn that a Method, which is at all comprehensive, must be founded on the relations of things: that those relations are of two sorts, according as they present themselves to the human mind as necessary, or merely as the result of observation. The former we have called relations of law, the latter of theory. Where the former alone are in question, the Method is one of necessary connection throughout ; where the latter alone, though the connection be considered as one of cause and effect, yet the necessity is less obvious, and the connection itself less close. We have ob- served, that in the Fine Arts there is a sort of middle Method, inasmuch as the first and higher relations are necessary, the lower only the results of observation. The great principles of all Method we have shown to be two, viz. Union and Progression. The relations of things cannot be united by accident : they are united by an idea either definite or instinctive. Their union, in proportion as it is clear, is also progressive. The state of mind adapted to such progress holds a due mean between a passiveness under external impression, and an excessive activity of mere reflection ; and the pro- gress itself follows the path of the idea from which it sets out; requiring, however, a constant wakefulness of mind, to keep it within the due limits of its course. Hence the orbits of thought, so to speak, must differ among themselves as the initiative ideas differ ; and of these latter, the great distinctions are into physical and metaphysical. Such, briefly, are the views by which we have been guided, in our present attempt to methodize the great mass of human knowledge. SECTION II. ILLUSTRATION OF THE PRECEDING PRINCIPLES. The principles which have been exhibited in the preceding section, and in respect SectIon n - to which we claim no other merit, than that of having drawn them from the purest sources of philosophy, ancient and modern, are, we trust, sufficiently plain and intelligible in themselves ; but as the most satisfactory mode of proving their accuracy, we proceed to illustrate them by a consideration of some particular studies, pursuits- and opinions; and by a reference to the general history of the -human mind. And first, as to the general importance of Method; — what need have we to dilate on this fertile topic ? For it is not solely in the formation of the human understanding, and in the constructions of science and literature, that the employment of Method is indispensably necessary ; but its importance is equally felt, and equally acknowledged, in the whole business and economy of active and domestic life. From the cottager's Domestic hearth or the workshop of the artisan, to the palace or the arsenal, the first merit, economy. that which admits neither substitute nor equivalent, is, that every thing is in its place. Where this charm is wanting, every other merit either loses its name, or becomes an additional ground of accusation and regret. Of one, by whom it is eminently possessed, we say proverbially, that he is like clock-work. The resemblance extends beyond the point of regularity, and yet falls short of the truth. Both do, indeed, at once divide and announce the silent and otherwise indistinguishable lapse of time : but the man of methodical industry and honourable pursuits, does more ; he realizes its ideal divisions, and gives a character and individuality to its moments. If the idle are described as killing time, he may be justly said to call it into life and moral being, while he makes it the distinct object not only of the consciousness, but of the conscience. He organizes the hours, and gives them a soul : and to that, the very essence of which is to fleet, and to have been, he communicates an imperishable and a spiritual nature. Of the good and faithful servant, whose energies, thus directed, are thus methodized, it is less truly affirmed, that he lives in time, than that time lives in him. His days, months, and years, as the stops and punctual marks in the records of duties performed, will survive the wreck of worlds, and remain extant when time itself shall be no more. £t;«. r " Let us carry x>ur views a step higher. What is it that first strikes us, and strikes lion. ON' THE SC1EXCE OF METHOD. 9 iuimduc- us at once in a man of education, and which, among educated men, so instantly ^j°^ distinguishes the man of superior mind ? Not always the weight or novelty of his remarks, nor always the interest of the facts which he communicates ; for the subject of conversation may chance to be trivial, and its duration to be short. Still less can any just admiration arise from any peculiarity in his words and phrases; for every man of practical good sense will follow, as far as the matters under consideration will permit him, that golden rule of Csesar's — Insolens verbum, ianquam scopulum, cvitare. The true cause of the impression made on us is, that his mind is methodical. We perceive this, in the unpremeditated and evidently habitual arrangement of his words, flowing spontaneously and necessarily from the clearness of the leading idea ; from which distinctness of mental vision, when men are fully accustomed to it, they obtain a habit of foreseeing at the beginning of every sentence how it is to end, and how all its parts may be brought out in the best and most orderly succession. However irregular and desultory the conversation may happen to be, there is Method in the fragments. Let us once more take an example which must come " home to every man's business MM conduct, and bosom." Is there not a Method in the discharge of all our relative duties ? And is not he the truly virtuous and truly happy man, who seizing first and laying hold most firmly of the great first Truth, is guided by that divine light through all the meandring and stormy courses of his existence ? To him every relation of life affords a prolific idea of duty ; by pursuing which into all its practical consequences, he becomes a good servant or a good master, a good subject or a good sovereign, a good son or a good father ; a good friend, a good patriot, a good Christian, a good man ! It cannot be deemed foreign from the purposes of our disquisition, if we are scientific anxious, before we leave this part of the subject, to attract the attention of our readers to the importance of speculative meditation (which never will be fruitful unless it be methodical) even to the worldly interests of mankind. We can recall no incident of human history that impresses the imagination more deeply than the moment, when Columbus, on an unknown ocean, first perceived that startling fact, the change of the magnetic needle! How many such instances occur in history, where the ideas of nature (presented to chosen minds by a Higher Power than nature herself) suddenly unfold, as it were, in prophetic succession, systematic views destined to produce the- most important revolutions in the state of man ! The clear spirit of Columbus was doubtless eminently methodical. He saw distinctly that great leading idea, which authorised the poor pilot to become, " a promiser of kingdoms :" and he pursued the progressive developement of the mighty truth with an unyielding firmness, which taught him " to rejoice in lofty labours." Our readers will perhaps excuse us for c 10 INTRODUCTION. quoting, as illustrative of what we have here observed, some lines from an Ode of § ^^P«. Chiabrera's, which in strength of thought and in lofty majesty of poetry, has but " few peers in ancient or in modern song." Columbus. Certo, dal cor, ch' alto Destin non scelse, Son l'imprese magnanime neglette ; Ma le bell' alme alle bell' opre elette ; Sanno gioir nelle fatiche eccelse : Ne biasmo popolar, frale catena, Spirto d'onore il suo cammin raffrena. Cosi lunga stagion per modi indegni Europa disprezzo l'inclita speme : Schernendo il vulgo (e seco i Regi insieme) Nudo nocchier promettitor di Regni ; Ma per le sconosciute onde marine L'invitta prora ei pur sospinse al fine. Qual uom, che torni al gentil consorte, Tal ei da sua magion spiego l'antenne ; L* ocean corse, e i turbini sostenne Vinse le crude imagini di morte ; Poscia, dell 'ampio mar spenta la guerra, Scorse la dianzi favolosa Terra. Allor dal cavo Pin scende veloce E di grand' Orma il nuovo mondo imprime ; Ne men ratto per 1' Aria erge sublime, Segno del Ciel, insuperabil Croce ; E porse umile esempio, onde adorarla Debba sua Gente. Chiabrera, vol. 1. Matiiema- We do not mean to rest our argument on the general utility or importance of tics and . physics. Method. Every science and every art attests the value of the particular principles on which we have above insisted. In mathematics they will, doubtless, be readily ad- mitted ; and certainly there are many marked differences between mathematical and physical studies : but in both a previous act and conception of the mind, or what we have called an initiative, is indispensably necessary, even to the mere semblance of Method. In mathematics, the definition makes the object, and pre-establishes the terms, which alone can occur in the after reasoning. If an existing circle, or what is supposed to be such, be found not to have the radii from the centre to the circumference perfectly equal: it will in no manner affect the mathematician's reasoning on the OV THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 11 introiiuc- properties of circles; it will only prove that the figure in question is not a circle Section it. ' according to the previous definition. A mathematical idea, therefore, may be perfect. But the place of a perfect idea cannot be exactly supplied, in the sciences of experi- ment and observation, by any theory built on generalization. For what shall determine the mind to one point rather than another ; within what limits, and from what number of individuals, shall the generalization be made ? The theory must still require a prior theory for its own legitimate construction. The physical definition follows and does not precede the reasoning. It is representative, not constitutive, and is indeed little more than an abbreviature of the preceding observation, and the deduc- tions therefrom. But as the observation, though aided by experiment, is necessarily limited and imperfect, the definition must be equally so. The history of theories, and the frequency of their subversion by the discovery of a single new fact, supply the best illustrations of this truth. But in experimental philosophy, it may be said, how much do we not owe to Electricity. accident ? Doubtless : but let it not be forgotten, that if the discoveries so made stop there; if they do not excite some master idea; if they do not lead to some law (in whatever dress of theory or hypothesis the fashions and prejudices of the time may disguise or disfigure it) ; the discoveries may remain for ages limited in their uses, insecure and unproductive. How many centuries, we might have said millennia, have passed, since the first accidental discovery of the attraction and repulsion of light bodies by rubbed amber, &c. Compare the interval with the progress made within less than a century, after the discovery of the phsenomena that led immediately to a theory of Electricity. That here, as in many other instances, the theory was supported by insecure hypotheses ; that by one theorist two heterogeneous fluids were assumed, the vitreous and the resinous ; by another, a plus and minus of the same fluid ; that a third considered it a mere modification of light ; while a fourth composed the electrical aura of oxygen, hydrogen, and caloric : all this does but place the truth we have been insisting on in a stronger and clearer light. For, abstract from all these suppositions, or rather imaginations, that which is common to, and involved in them all ; and there will remain neither notional fluid or fluids, nor chemical compounds, nor elementary matter,— but the idea of two—opposite-^forces, tending to rest by equilibrium. These are the sole factors of the calculus, alike in all the theories : these give the law and with it the Method of arranging the phenomena. For this reason it may not be rash to anticipate the nearest approaches to a correct system of electricity from those philosophers who since the year 1798 have presented the idea most distinctly as such, rejecting the hypothesis of any material substratum, and contemplating in all electrical c 2 12 INTRODUCTION. N ln tion U °- phaenomena the operation of a law which reigns through all nature, viz : the law of seotjonu^ ^^^"^ polarity, or the manifestation of one power by opposite forces. Magnetism. How great the contrast between electricity and Magnetism ! From the remotest antiquity, the attraction of iron by the magnet was known, and noticed ; but century after century it remained the undisturbed property of poets and orators. The fact of the magnet, and the fable of the Phoenix, stood on the same scale of utility, and by the generality of mankind, the latter was as much credited as the former, and considered far more interesting. In the thirteenth century, however, or perhaps earlier, the polarity of the magnet, and its communicability to iron, were discovered. We remain in doubt whether this discovery were accidental, or the result of theory; if the former, the purpose which it soon suggested was so grand and important, that it may well be deemed the proudest trophy ever yet raised by accident in the service of mankind. But still it furnished no genuine idea ; it led to no law, and consequently, to no Method; though a variety of phenomena, as startling as they are at present mysterious, have forced on us a presentiment of its intimate connection with other great agencies of nature. We would not be understood to assume the power of predicting to what extent, or in what directions, that connection may hereafter be traced ; but amidst the most ingenious hypotheses, that have yet been formed on the subject, we may notice that which, combining the three primary laws of magnetism, electricity, and galvinism,* considers them all as the results of one common power, essential to all material construction in the works of nature. It is perhaps more an operation of the fancy than of the reason, which has suggested that these three material powers are analogous to the three dimensions of space. Hypothesis, be it observed, can never form the ground-work of a true scientific method, unless where the hypothesis is either a true idea proposed in an hypothetical form, or at least the symbol of an idea as yet unknown, of a law as yet undiscovered ; and in this latter case the hypothesis merely performs the function of an unknown quantity in algebra, and is assumed for the purpose of submitting the phaenomena to a scientific calculus. But to recur to the contrast presented by electricity and magnetism, in the rapid progress of the former, and the stationary condition of the latter : What is the cause of this diversity? Fewer theories, fewer hypotheses have not been advanced in the one than in the other; but the theories and fictions of the electricians contained an idea, and all the same idea, which has necessarily led to Method ; implicit indeed, and only regulative hitherto, but which requires little more than the dismission * See the experiments of Coulomb, Brugmans, and Goethe. To -which may be added, should they be confirmed, the carious obserrations on Chrystallization, first made in Corsica, and since pursued in France. . ON THE SCTENCE OF METHOD. 13 lutroduc- f t]i e imagery to become constitutive, like the ideas of the geometrician. On the So"' " 11 . contrary, the assumptions of the magnetists (as for instance, the hypothesis that the earth itself is one vast magnet, or that an immense magnet is concealed within it ; or that there is a concentric globe within the earth, revolving on its own independent axis) are but repetitions of the same fact or phenomenon, looked at through a magnifying glass ; the reiteration of the problem, not its solution. This leads to the important consideration, so often dwelt upon, so forcibly urged, so powerfully amplified and explained by our great countryman Bacon, that one fact is often worth a thousand. " Satis scimus," says he, "axiomata fectS inventu, tota agmina operum secum trahere." Hence his indignant reprobation of the vis experimentalis, cceca, stupida, vaga, pree- rupta!" Hence his just and earnest exhortations to pursue the experimenta lucifera, and those alone ; discarding for their sakes, even the jructijera experimenta. The natural philosopher, who cannot, or will not see, that it is the "enlightening" fact, which really causes all the others to be facts, in any scientific sense — he who has not the head to comprehend, and the soul to reverence this parent experiment —he to whom the aupijica is not an exclamation of joy and rapture, a rich reward for years of toil and patient suffering — to him no auspicious answer will ever be granted by the oracle of nature. We have said that improgressive arrangement is not Method : and in proof of this we Zoology. appeal to the notorious fact, that Zoology, soon after the commencement of the latter half of the last century, was falling abroad, weighed down and crushed as it were by the inordinate number and multiplicity of facts and phenomena apparently separate, without evincing the least promise of systematizing itself by any inward combina- tion of its parts. John Hunter, who had appeared, at times, almost a stranger to the grand conception, which yet never ceased to work in him, as his genius and governing spirit, rose at length in the horizon of physiology and comparative anatomy. In his printed works, the finest elements of system seem evermore to flit before him, twice or thrice only to have been seized, and after a momentary detention, to have been again suffered to escape. At length, in the astonishing preparations for his museum, he constructed it, for the scientific apprehension, out of the unspoken alphabet of nature. Yet notwithstanding the imperfection in the annunciation of the idea, how exhilarating have been the results ! It may, we believe, be affirmed, with safety, that whatever is grandest, in the views of Cuvier, is either a reflection of this light, or a continuation of its rays, well and wisely directed, through fit media, to its appropriate object. From Zoology, or the laws of animal life, to Botany, or those of vegetable life, the Botany. transition is easy and natural. In this pursuit, how striking is the necessity of a clear 14 INTRODUCTION. introduc, ij ea as initiative of all Method ! How obvious the importance of attention to the conduct Section n. tion. * v.— — - of the mind in the exercise of Method itself! The lowest attempt at botanical arrange- ment consists in an artificial classification of plants, for the preparatory purpose of a nomenclature ; but even in this, some antecedent must have been contributed by the mind itself; some purpose must be in view; or some question at least must have been proposed to nature, grounded, as all questions are, upon some idea of the answer. As for instance, the assumption, " That two great sexes animate the world." For no man can confidently "conceive a fact to be universally true who does not pro- portionally anticipate its necessity, and who does not believe that necessity to be demonstrable by an insight into its nature, whenever and wherever such insight can be obtained. We acknowledge, we reverence, the obligations of Botany to Linnaeus, who adopting from Bartholinus and others the sexuality of plants, grounded thereon a scheme of classific and distinctive marks, by which one man's experience may be communicated to others, and the objects safely reasoned on while absent, and recognized as soon as and wherever they occur. He invented an universal character for the language of Botany, chargeable with no greater imperfections than are to be found in the alphabets of every particular language. The first requisites in investigating the works of nature, as in studying the classics, are a proper accidence and dictionary ; and for both of these Botany is indebted to the illustrious Swede. But the inherent necessity, the true idea of sex, was never fully contemplated by Linnaeus, much less that of vegetation itself. Wanting these master-lights, he was not only unable to discern the collateral relations of the vegetable to the mineral and animal worlds, but even in respect to the doc- trine which gives name and character to his system, he only avoided Scylla to fall upon Charybdis : and such must be the case of every one, who in this uncertain state of the initiative idea, ventures to expatiate among the subordinate notions. If we adhere to the general notion of sex, as abstracted from the more obvious modes in which the sexual relation manifests itself, we soon meet with whole classes of plants to which it is found inapplicable. If, arbitrarily, we give it indefinite exten- sion, it is dissipated into the barren truism, that all specific products suppose specific means of production. Thus a growth and a birth are distinguished by the mere verbal definition, that the latter is a whole in itself, the former not : aud when we would apply even this to nature, we are baffled by objects (the flower polypus, &c. &c.) in which each is the other. All that can be done by the most patient and active industry, by the widest and most continuous researches ; all that the amplest survey lion. ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 15 introduc- f t h e vegetable realm, brought under immediate contemplation by the most stupendous ^^ collections of species and varieties, can suggest ; all that minutest dissection and exactest chemical analysis, can unfold ; all that varied experiment and the position of plants and their component parts in every conceivable relation to light, heat, and whatever else we distinguish as imponderable substances ; to earth, air, water ; to the supposed con- stituents of air and water, separate and in all proportions— in short all that chemical agents and re-agents can disclose or adduce ;— all these have been brought, as conscripts, into the field, with the completest accoutrement, in the bes-t discipline, under the ablest commanders. Yet after all that was effected by Linnaeus himself, not to mention the labours of Ceesalpinus, Ray, Gesner, Tournefort, and the other heroes who preceded the general adoption of the sexual system, as the basis of artificial arrangement- after all the successive toils and enterprizes of Hedwig, Jussieu, Mtrbel, Smith, Knight, Ellis, &c. &c— what is Botany at this present hour? Little more than an enormous nomenclature ; a huge catalogue, bien arrange, yearly and monthly augmented, in various editions, each with its own scheme of technical memory and its own con- veniencies of reference ! The innocent amusement, the healthful occupation, the orna- • mental accomplishment of amateurs ; it has yet to expect the devotion and energies of the philosopher. Whether the idea which has glanced across some minds, that the harmony between the vegetable and animal world is not a harmony of resemblance, but of contrast, may not lead to a new and more accurate method in this engaging science, it becomes us not here to determine : but should its objective truth be hereafter demon- strated by induction of facts in an unbroken series of correspondences in nature, we shall then receive it as a law of organic existence; and shall thence obtain another splendid proof, that with the knowledge of Law alone dwell power and prophecy, deci- sive experiment, and scientific Method. Such, too, is the case with the substances of the Laboratory, which are assumed Chemistry. to be incapable of decomposition. They are mere exponents of some one law, which the chemical philosopher, whatever may be his theory, is incessantly labouring to discover. The law, indeed, has not yet assumed the form of an idea in his mind ; it is what we have called an Instinct ; it is a pursuit after unity of principle, through a diversity of forms. Thus as " the lunatic, the lover, and the poet," suggest each other to Shakspeare's Theseus, as soon as his thoughts present him the one form, of which they are but varieties ; so water and flame, the diamond, the charcoal, and the mantling champagne, with its ebullient sparkles, are convoked and fraternized by the theory of the chemist. This is, in truth, the first charm of chemistry, and the secret of the almost universal interest excited by its discoveries. The serious com- 16 ' introduction:. introduo placency which is afforded by the sense of truth, utility, permanence, and progression, Sectionir. blends with and ennobles the exhilarating surprise and the pleasurable sting of curiosity, which accompany the propounding and the solving of an enigma. It is he sense of a principle of connection given by the mind, and sanctioned by the correspondency of nature. Hence the strong hold which in all ages chemistry has had on the imagination. If in the greatest poets we find nature idealized through the creative power of a profound yet observant meditation, so through the meditative observation of a Davy, aWoTLASTON, a Hatchett, or a Murray, " By some connatural force, Powerful at greatest distance to unite With secret amity things of like kind," we find poetrv, as it were, substantiated and realized. Poetry. This consideration leads us from the paths of physical science into a region apparently very different. Those who tread the enchanted ground of Poetry, often- times do not even suspect that there is such a thing as Method to guide their steps. Yet even here we undertake to show that it not only has a necessary existence, but the strictest philosophical application ; and that it is founded on the very philosophy which has furnished us with the principles already laid down. It may surprise some of our readers, especially those who have been brought up in schools of foreign taste, to find that we rest our proof of these assertions on one single evidence, and that that evidence is Shakspeare, whose mind they have probably been taught to consider as eminently immethodical. In the first place, Shakspeare was not only endowed with treat native genius (which indeed he is commonly allowed to have been), but what is less frequently conceded, he had much acquired knowledge. " His information," says Professor Wilde, " was great and extensive, and his reading as great as his knowledge of languages could reach. Considering the bar which his education and circumstances placed in his way, he had done as much to acquire knowledge as even Milton. A thousand instances might be given, of the intimate knowledge that Shakspeare had of facts. I shall mention only one. I do not say, he gives a good account of the Salic law, though a much worse has been given by many antiquaries. But he who reads the archbishop of Canterbury's speech in Henry the Fifth, and who shall afterwards say, that Shakspeare was not a man of great reading and information, and who loved the thing itself, is a person whose opinion I would not ask or trust upon any matter of investigation." Then, was all this reading, all this information, all this knowledge of our great dramatist, a mere rudis indigestaque moles? Very far from it. Method, ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 17 ^"tiln" ' we nave seen ' demands a knowledge of the relations which things bear to each other, Se ^^- J ' or to the observer, or to the state and apprehension of the hearers. In all and each of these was Shakspeare so deeply versed, that in the personages of a play, he seems " to mould his mind as some incorporeal material alternately into all their various forms." * In every one of his various characters we still feel ourselves communing with the same human nature. Everywhere we find individuality : no where mere portrait. The excellence of his productions consists in a happy union of the universal with the particular. But the universal is an idea. Shakspeare, therefore, studied mankind in the idea of the human race ; and he followed out that idea into all its varieties, by a Method which never failed to guide his steps aright. Let us appeal to him, to illus- trate by example, the difference between a sterile and an exuberant mind, in respect to what we have ventured to call the Science of Method. On the one hand observe Mrs. Quickley's relation of the circumstances of Sir John Falstaff's debt : " Falstaff. What is the gross sum that I owe thee? Mrs. Quickley. Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, on Wednesday in Whitsun week, when the prince broke thy head for likening his father to a singing man in Windsor— thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickley ?— coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar: telling us she had a good dish of prawns— whereby thou didst desire to eat some whereby I {old thee they were ill for a green wound," &c. &c. &c. (Henry IV. P. I. Act II. Scene Lj On the other hand consider the narration given by Hamlet to Horatio, of the occurrences during his proposed transportation to England, and the events that interrupted his voyage. (Act V. Scene II.) Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep : methought I lay Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly, And prais'd be rashness for it Let us know, Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do fail: and that should teach us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. Hon. That is most certain. o rqv tavrS ^/vyr\v &aie voikHKuiq [topfacrae. Themistius. d 18 INTRODUCTION-. Introduc. HaM. Up from my cabin, Section It tion. My sfea-gown scarf d about me, in the dark Grop'd I to find out them; had my desire; Finger'd their pocket; and, in fine, withdrew To my own room again : making so bold, My fears forgetting manners, to unseal Their grand commission ; where I found, Horatio, A royal knavery — an exact command, Larded with many several sorts of reasons, Importing Denmark's health, and England's too, With, ho ! such bugs and goblins in my life, That on the supervize, no leisure bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, My head should be struck off! Hor. Is't possible ? Ham. Here's the commission. — Read it at more leisure. I sat me down ; Devis'd a new commission ; wrote it fair. I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour'd much How to forget that learning ; but, sir, now It did me yeoman's service. Wilt thou know The effect of what I wrote ? Hor. Aye, good my lord. Ham. An earnest conjuration from the king, • As England was his faithful tributary ; As love between them, like the palm, might flourish ; As peace should still her wheaten gafland wear, And many such like As's of great charge — That on the view and knowing of these contents He should the bearers put to sudden death, No shriving time allowed. Hor. How was this sealed ? Ham. Why, even in that was heaven ordinant. I had my father's signet in my purse, Which was the model of that Danish seal : Folded the writ up in the form of the other; Subscribed it ; gave't the impression ; plac'd it safely, The changeling never known. Now, the next day Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent, Thou knowest already. ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 19 If, overlooking the different value of the matter in these two narrations, we ^ ectic ' consider only the form, it must be confessed, that both are unmethodical. We have asserted that Method results from a balance between the passive impression received from outward things, and the internal activity of the mind in reflecting and o-eneralizing ; but neither Hamlet nor the Hostess hold this balance accurately. In Mrs. Quickley, the memory alone is called into action, the objects and events recur in the narration in the same order, and with the same accompaniments, however accidental or impertinent, as they had first occurred to the narrator. The necessity of taking breath, the efforts of recollection, and the abrupt rectification of its failures, produce all her pauses ; and constitute most of her connections. But when we look to the Prince of Denmark's recital the case is widely different. Here the events, with the circumstances of time and place, are all stated with equal compression and rapidity; not one introduced which could have been omitted without injury to the intelligibility of the whole process. If any tendency is discoverable, as far as the mere facts are in question, it is to omission : and accordingly, the reader will observe, that the attention of the narrator is called back to one ma- terial circumstance, which he was hurrying by, by a direct question from the friend (How was this sealed ?)■ to whom the story is communicated. But by a trait which is indeed peculiarly characteristic of Hamlet's mind, ever disposed to generalize, and meditative to excess, all the digressions and enlargements consist of reflections, truths, and principles of general and permanent interest, either directly expressed or disguised in playful satire. Instances of the want of generalization are of no rare occurrence : and the narration of Shakspeare's Hostess differs from those of the ignorant and unthinking in ordinary life, only by its superior humour, the poet's own gift and infusion, not by its want of Method, which is not greater than we often meet with in that class of minds of which she is the dramatic representative. Nor will the excess of generali- zation and reflection have escaped our observation in real life, though the great poet has more conveniently supplied the illustrations. In attending too exclusively to the relations which the past or passing events and objects bear to general truth, and the moods of his own mind, the most intelligent man is sometimes in danger of overlooking that other relation, in which they are likewise to be placed to the apprehension and sympathies of his hearers. His discourse appears like soliloquy intermixed with dialogue. But the uneducated and unreflecting talker overlooks all mental relations, and consequently precludes all Method, that is not purely acci- dental. Hence, — the nearer the things and incidents in time and place, the more d2 Introduc- tion. 20 INTRODUCTION. distant, disjointed and impertinent to each other, and to any common purpose, will Section n. 'they appear in his narration: and this from the absence of any leading thought in the narrator's own mind. On the contrary, where the habit of Method is present and effective, things the most remote and diverse in time, place, and outward circumstance, are brought into mental contiguity and succession, the more striking as the less ex- pected. But while we would impress the necessity of this habit, the illustrations adduced give proof that in undue preponderance, and when the prerogative of the mind is stretched into despotism, the discourse may degenerate into the wayward, or the fantastical. Shakspeare needed not to read Horace in order to give his characters that methodical unity which the wise Roman so strongly recommends : Si quid inexpertum scenae committis, et audes Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum Qualis ab inccepto processerit, et sibi constet. But this was not the only way in which he followed an accurate philosophic Method : we quote the expressions of Schlegel, a foreign critic of great and deserved reputa- tion — " If Shakspeare deserves our admiration for his characters, he is equally deserving of it for his exhibition of passion, taking this word in its widest signification, as including every mental condition, every tone from indifference or familiar mirth, to the wildest rage and despair. He gives us the history of minds: he lays open to us, in a single word, a whole series of preceding conditions" This last is a profound and exquisite remark : and it necessarily implies, that Shakspeare contemplated ideas, in which alone are involved conditions and consequences ad infinitum. Purblind critics, whose mental vision could not reach far enough to comprize the whole dimensions of our poetical Hercules, have busied themselves in measuring and spanning him muscle by muscle, till they fancied they had discovered some dispro- portion. There are two answers applicable to most of such remarks. First, that Shakspeare understood the true language and external workings of passion better than his critics. He had a higher, and a more ideal, and consequently a more methodical sense of harmony than they. A very slight knowledge of music will enable any one to detect discords in the exquisite harmonies of Haydn or Mozart ; and Bentley has found more false grammar in the Paradise Lost than ever poor boy was whipped for through all the forms of Eton or Westminster : but to know why the minor note is introduced into the major key, or the nominative case left to seek for its verb, requires an acquaintance with some preliminary steps of the methodical ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 21 lnti-miuc- sca ] e> a t the top of which sits the author, and at the bottom the critic. The second Section n. answer is, that Shakspeare was pursuing two Methods at once ; and besides the psychological* Method, he had also to attend to the poetical. Now the poetical method requires above all things a preponderance of pleasurable feeling : and where the interest of the events and characters and passions is too strong to be continuous without becoming painful, there poetical method requires that there should be, what Schlegel calls " a musical alleviation of our sympathy." The Lydian mode must temper the Dorian. This we call Method. We said that Shakspeare pursued two methods. Oh ! he pursued many, many more — " both oar and sail" — and the guidance of the helm, and the heaving of the lead, and the watchful observation of the stars, and the thunder of his grand artillery. What shall we say of his moral conceptions ? Not made up of miserable clap-traps, and the tag-ends of mawkish novels, and endless sermonizing; — but furnishing lessons of profound meditation to frail and fallible human nature. He shows us crime and want of principle clothed not with a spurious greatness of soul ; but with a force of intellect which too often imposes but the more easily on the weak, misjudging multitude. He shows us the innocent mind of Othello plunged by its own unsuspecting and therefore unwatchful confidence, in guilt and misery not to be endured. Look at Lear, look at Richard, look in short at every moral picture of this mighty moralist ! Whoso does not rise from their attentive perusal " a sadder and a wiser man" — let him never dream that he knows any thing of philosophical Method. Nay, even in his style, how methodical is our " sweet Shakspeare." Sweetness is indeed its predominant characteristic ; and it has a few immethodical luxuriances of wit; and he may occasionally be convicted of words, which convey a volume of thought, when the business of the scene did not absolutely require such deep medita- tion. But pardoning him these dulcia vitia, who ever fashioned the English language, or any language, ancient, or modern, into such variety of appropriate apparel, from " the gorgeous pall of scepter'd tragedy," to the easy dress of flowing pastoral. More musical than lark to shepherd's ear, When wheat is green and hawthorn buds appear. Who, like him, could so methodically suit the very flow and tone of discourse to cha- racters lying so wide apart in rank, and habits, and peculiarities, as Holofernes and * We beg pardon for the use of this insokns terbum ; but it is one of which our language stands in great need. We have no single term to express the philosophy of the human mind : and what is worse, the principles of that philosophy are commonly called metaphysical, a word of very different meaning. . 22 INTRODUCTION. introduc- Q U een Catharine, Falstaff and Lear? When we compare the pure English style of Sec,ionI1- ' Shakspeare with that of the very best writers of his day, we stand astonished at the Method, by which he was directed in the choice of those words and idioms, which are as fresh now as in their first bloom ; nay, which are at the present moment at once more energetic, more expressive, more natural, and more elegant, than those of the happiest and most admired living speakers or writers. But Shakspeare was " not methodical in the structure of his fable." Oh gentle critic ! be advised. Do not trust too much to your professional dexterity in the use of the scalping knife and tomahawk. Weapons of diviner mould are wielded by your adversary : and you are meeting him here on his own peculiar ground, the ground of idea, of thought, and of inspiration. The very point of this dispute is ideal. The question is one of unity : and unity, as we have shown, is wholly the subject of ideal law. There are said to be three great unities which Shakspeare has violated ; those of time, place, and action. Now the unities of time and place we will not dispute about. Be ours the poet, qui pectus inaniter angit ■ Irritat, mulcet, falsis terrorisms iraplet Ut magus, et modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis. The dramatist who circumscribes himself within that unity of time, which is regulated by a stop-watch, may be exact, but is not methodical ; or his method is of the least and lowest class. But Where is he living dipt in with the sea, That chides the banks of England, Wales, or Scotland^? who can transpose the scenes of Macbeth, and make the seated heart knock at the ribs with the same force as now it does, when the mysterious tale is conducted from the open heath, on which the weird sisters are ushered in with thunder and lightning, to the fated fight of Dunsinane, in which their victim expiates with life, his credulity and his ambition ? To the disgrace of the English stage, such attempts have indeed been made on almost all the dramas of Shakspeare. Scarcely a season passes which does not produce some v^fov tt^ot^ov of this kind in which the mangled limbs of our great poet are thrown together " in most admired disorder." There was once, a noble author, who by a refined species of murder, cut up the play of Julius Caesar into two good set tragedies, M. Voltaire, we believe, had the grace to make but one of it; but whether his Brutus be an improvement on the model from which it was taken, we trust, after what we have already said, we shall hardly be expected to discuss. 111)11. ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 23 intmduc- jj uis we j iave sceu> that Shakspeare's mind, rich in stores of acquired knowledge, ^ectkmiL ' commanded all these stores and rendered them disposable, by means of his intimate acquaintance with the great laws of thought, which form and regulate Method. We have seen him exemplifying the opposite faults of Method in two different characters ; we have seen that he was himself methodical in the delineation of character, in the display of passion, in the conceptions of moral being, in the adaptations of language, in the connection and admirable intertexture of his ever-interesting fable. Let it not, after this, be said, that Poetry— and under the word Poetry we will now take leave to include all the works of the higher imagination, whether operating by measured sound, or by the harmonies of form and colour, or by words, the more immediate and universal representatives of thought — is not strictly methodical ; nay, does not owe its whole charm, and all its beauty, and all its power, to the philosophical principles of Method. But what of philosophy herself? Shall she be exempted from the laws, which she Philosophy, has imposed on all the rest of the known universe? Longe absit ! To philosophy properly belongs the education of the mind: and all that we have hitherto said may be regarded as an indication (we have room for no more) of the chief laws and regulative principles of that education. Philosophy, the " parent of life," according to the expression of the wise Roman orator ; the " mother of good deeds and of good sayings," the " medicine of the mind," is herself wholly conversant' with Method. True it is, that the ancients, as well as the moderns, had their machinery for the extemporaneous coinage of intellect, by means of which the scholar was enabled to make a figure on any and all subjects, on any and all occasions. They too had their glittering vapours, which (as the comic poet tells us) fed a host of sophists — SfyaXai eat avSpaaiv apyols At7rfp yvu^i-qv ii) diakc^iv icj vovv r/fiiv Trapi^ovctr, KaJ repartiav iSj irepi\el-iv kj Kpovmv Kj KaTaXrjfiv. APIXTO. Ne^», Ik. s. Great goddesses are they to lazy folks, Who pour down on us gifts of fluent speech, Sense most sententious, wonderful fine effect. And how to talk about it and about it, Thoughts brisk as bees, and pathos soft and thawing. But the philosophers held a course very different from that of the sophists. We shall not trouble our readers with a comparative view of many systems ; but we shall present to their admiration one mighty ancient, and one illustrious modern, Plato, and Bacon. These two varieties will sufficiently exemplify the species. Plato 24 . - INTRODUCTION. Of Plato's works, the larger and more valuable portion have all one common end, section ir. which comprehends and shines through the particular purpose of each several dialogue; and this is, to establish the sources, to evolve the principles, and to exemplify the art of Method. This is the clue, without which it would be difficult to exculpate the noblest productions of the " divine" philosopher from the charge of being tortuous and labyrinthine in their progress, and unsatisfactory in their ostensible results. The latter indeed appear not seldom to have been drawn, for the purpose of starting a new problem, rather than of solving the one proposed as the subject of previous discussion. But with the clear insight, that the purpose of the writer is not so much to establish any particular truth, as to remove the obstacles, the continuance of which is preclusive of all truth, the whole scheme assumes a different aspect, and justifies itself in all its dimensions. We see, that the Education of the intellect, by awakening the method of self-developement, was his proposed object, not any specific information that can be conveyed into it from without. He desired not to assist in storing the passive mind with the various sorts of knowledge most in request, as if the human soul were a mere repository, or banqueting room, but to place it in such relations of circum- stance as should gradually excite its vegetating and germinating powers to produce new fruits of thought, new conceptions, and imaginations, and ideas. Plato was a poetic philosopher, as Shakspeare was a philosophic poet. In the poetry, as well as in the philosophy, of both, there was a necessary predominance of ideas ; but this did not make them regardless of the actual existences around them. They were not visionaries, or mystics ; but dwelt in " the sober certainty" of waking knowledge. It is strange, yet characteristic of the spirit that was at work during the latter half of the last century, that the writings of Plato should be accused of estranging the mind from plain experience and substantial matter-of-fact, and of debauching it by fictions and generalities, Plato, whose method is inductive throughout, who aro-ues on all subjects not only from, but in and by, inductions of facts ! Who warns us indeed against the usurpation of the senses, but far oftener, and with more unmitigated hostility, pursues the assumptions, abstractions, generalities, and verbal legerdemain of the sophists. Strange ! but still more strange, that a notion, so groundless, should be entitled to plead in its behalf the authority of Lord Bacon, whose scheme of logic, as applied to the contemplation of nature, is Platonic throughout. It is necessary that we should explain this circumstance at some length, in order to establish by the concurrence of authorities, vulgarly supposed to be contradictory, the truth of a system which we have already maintained on so many other grounds. Baton. What Lord Bacon was to England, Cicero was to Rome— the first and most OV THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 25 eloquent advocate of philosophy. It is needless to remind the classical scholar of that s «t;o«iT. almost religious veneration with which the accomplished Roman speaks of Plato, whom, indeed, he calls, in one instance, " cleus itye tiosler," and in other places, " the Homer of philosophers ;" their " prince ;" the " most weighty of all who ever spoke, or ever wrote ;" " most wise, most holy, divine." This last appellation, too, it is well known, long remained, even among Christians, as a distinguishing epithet of the great ornament of the Socratic school. Why Bacon should have spoken detractingly of such a man ; why he should have stigmatised him with the name of " sophist," and described his philosophy (with the tyrant Dionysius), as " verba otiosorum senum ad imperitos juvenes," it is much easier to explain, than to justify, or even to palliate. He was, perhaps, influenced, in part, by the tone given to thinking minds by the Reformation, the founders and fathers of which saw in the Aristotelians, or schoolmen, the antagonists of Protestantism, and in the Italian Platonists (as they conceived) the secret enemies of Christianity itself. In part, too, Bacon may have formed his notions of Plato's doctrines from the absurdities of his mis-interpreters, rather than from an unpreju- diced and diligent study of his works. — -Be it remembered, however, that this unfairness was not less manifested to his contemporaries ; that his treatment of Gilbert was cold, invidious, and unjust ; and that he seems to have r disdained to learn either the exist- ence or the name of Shakspeare. At this conduct no one can be surprised, who has studied the life of this wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind. But our present business is not with his weaknesses, or his failings, but with those philosophical principles, which, especially as displayed in the Novum Organum, have deservedly obtained for him the veneration of succeeding ages. Those who talk superficially about Bacon's philosophy, that is to say, nineteen- twentieths of those who talk about it at all, know little more than his induction, and the application which he makes of his own method, to particular classes of phy- sical facts; applications, which are at least as crude, for the age of Gilbert, Galileo, and Kepler, as were those of Aristotle (whom he so superciliously reprehends) for the age of Philip and Alexander. Or they may perhaps have been struck with his recom- mendation of tabular collections of particulars; and hence have placed him at the head of a body of men, but too numerous in modern days— the minute philosophers. We need scarcely say, that this is venturing his reputation on a very tottering basis. Let any unprejudiced naturalist turn to Bacon's questions and proposals for the investigation of single problems; to his "Discourse on the Winds;" or to what may almost be called a caricature of his scheme, in the " Method of improving Natural Philosophy,'' e 26 INTRODUCTION. introduc- by Robert Hooke* (the history of whose philosophical * life is alone a sufficient Section ir. tion. J ^—.^-^ / answer to all such schemes) — and then let him fairly say whether any desi- rable end could reasonably be hoped for, from this process — whether by this mode of research any important discovery ever was made, or ever could be made ? Bacon, indeed, always takes care to tell us, that the sole purpose and object of collecting together these particulars, is to concentrate them, by careful selection, into universals: but so immense is their number, and so various and almost endless the relations in which each is to be separately considered, that the life of an ante-diluvian patriarch would be expended, and his strength and spirits wasted, long before he could com- mence the process of simplification, or arrive in sight of the law, which was to reward the toils of the over-tasked Psyche. | Had Bacon done no more, than propose these impracticable projects, we should have been far from sharing the sentiments of respect every where attached to his philoso- phical character. But he has performed a task of infinitely greater importance, by constructing that methodical system, which is so elegantly developed in the Novum Organum. It is this, which we propose to compare with the principles long before * We refer particularly to pp. 22 to 42 of the above-mentioned work; and we would, above all, notice the following admirable specimen of confused and disorderly minuteness : — " The history of potters, tobacco-pipe- makers, glaziers, glass-grinders, looking-glass-makers or foilers, spectacle-makers and optic-glass makers, makers of counterfeit pearl and precious stones, bugle-makers, lamp-blowers, colour-makers, colour-grinders, glass-painters, enamellers, varnishers, colour-sellers, painters, limners, picture-drawers, makers of baby heads, of little bowling stones or marbles, fustian-makers, (query whether poets are included in this trade ?) music-masters, tinsey-makers, and taggers. — The history of schoolmasters, writing-masters, printers, book-binders, stage- players, dancing-masters, and vaulters, apothecaries, chirurgeons, seamsters, butchers, barbers, laundresses, and cosmetics! &c. &c. &c. &c. (the true nature of each of which being exactly determined) will hugely facili- tate OUR INQUIRIES IN PHILOSOPHY"!!! " In parallel, or rather in contrast, with the advice of Mr. Robert Hooke, may be fairly placed that of the celebrated Dr. Watts, which was thought, by Dr. Knox, to be worthy of insertion in the Elegant Extracts, vol. ii. p. 456, under the head of Directions concerning our Ideas. " Furnish yourselves with a rich variety of Ideas. Acquaint yourselves with things ancient and modem; things natural, civil, and religious ; things of your native land, and of foreign countries ; things domestic and national ; things present, past, and future ; and above all, be well acquainted with God and yourselves ; with animal nature, and the workings of your own spirits. Such a general acquaintance with things will be of very great advantage." t See the beautiful allegoric tale of Cupid and Psyche in the original of Apuleius. The tasks imposed on the hapless nymph, through the jealousy of her mother-in-law, and the agency by which they are at length self- performed, are noble instances of that hidden wisdom " where more is meant than meets the ear '." on the science: £? Method. 27 feh-oduc- enunciated by Plato. In both cases, the inductions are frequently as crude and erro- Section!!. lion. " \^"V^»' ' neous, as might readily be anticipated from the infant state of natural history, chemistry, and physiology, in their several ages. In both cases, the proposed applications are often impracticable ; but setting aside these considerations, and extracting from each writer that which constitutes his true philosophy, we shall be convinced that it is identical, in regard to the science of Method, and to the grounds and conditions of that science. We do not see, therefore, how we can more appropriately conclude this section of our inquiry, than by a brief statement of our renowned countryman's own principles of Method, conveyed, for the greater part, in his own words : or in what more precise form, we can recapitulate the substance of the doctrines asserted and vindicated in the preceding pages. For we rest our strongest pretensions to appro- bation on the fact, that we have only re-proclaimed the coinciding precepts of the Athenian Verulam, and the British Plato. In the first instance, Lord Bacon equally with ourselves, demands, as the motive Tlieireora - x "• mon system. and guide of every philosophical experiment, what we have ventured to call the intel- lectual or mental initiative; namely, some well-grounded purpose, some distinct impres- sion of the probable results, some self- consistent anticipation, the ground of the " prudens qucestio " (the forethoughtful enquiry), which he affirms to be the prior half of the knowledge sought, dimidium scientice. With him, therefore, as with us, an idea is an experiment proposed, an experiment is an idea realized. For so be himself informs us : — " neque scientiam molimur tarn sensu, vel instrumentis, quam ex- perimentis ; etenim experimentorum longe major est subtilitas, quam sensus ipsius, licet instrumentis exquisitis adjuti. Nam de Us loquimur experimentis, quae, ad intentionem ejus quod quaritur, periti, et secundum artem excogitata et apposita sunt. Itaque perceptioni sensus immediate et propria? non multum tribuimus : sed e6 rem deducimus, ut sensus tantum de cxperimento, experimentum de rejudicet." The meaning of this last sentence is intelligible enough ; though involved in antithesis, merely because Bacon did not pos- sess, like Shakspeare, a good method in his style. What he means to say is, that we can apprehend, through the organs of sense, only the sensible phenomena pro- duced by the experiment ; but by the mental power, in virtue of which we shaped the experiment, we can determine the true import of the phenomena. Now, he had before said, that he was speaking only of those experiments, which were skilfully adapted to the intention, or purpose of him, who conducted the research. But what is it, that forms the intention, or purpose, and adapts thereto the experiment ? What Bacon calls lux intellects ; viz. the understanding of the individual man, who makes the experiment. This light, however, as he argues at great length, is obscured e a 28 INTRODUCTION. by idols, which are false and spurious notions. His peculiar use of the word idols, is ssaim it. again a proof of faulty method in his style; for it gives a sort of pedantic air to his reasonings; but in truth, he means no more by it, than what Plato means by opinion, (SoU) which the latter calls " a medium between knowledge and ignorance." So, Bacon distinguishes the idols of the mind into various kinds (idola speeds, tribhs, fori, theatri), that is, opinions derived from the passions, prejudices, and peculiar habits of each man's understanding : and as these idols, or opinions, confessedly produce a sort of mental obscurity, or blindness ; so, the ancient and the modern master of philosophy both agree in prescribing remedies arid operations calculated to remove this disease | to couch the " "mind's eye ;" and to restore it to the enjoyment of a purer vision. Bacon establishes an unerring criterion between the ideas arid the idols of the mind ; namely, that the latter are empty notions, but the former are the very seals and impresses of nature ; that is to say, they always fit and cohere with those classes of things, to which they belong ; as the idea of a circle fits and coheres with all true circles. His words are these : " Non leve quiddam interest inter humanae mentis idola, et divinse mentis ideas, hoc est, inter placita queedam inania, et veras sigriaturas atque impressiones factas in creaturis, prout Ratione sana et sieci luminis, quam, docendi causa, inter- pretem naturae vocare consuevimus, inveniuntur." Novum OrgaNum, xxiii. & xxvi. Some idols, says Bacon, are adventitious to the mind ; others innate. And here, we may observe, that he goes somewhat farther than the rnere doctrine of innate ideas, by holding that of innate idols. However, we say not this in disparagement of his system, which is clear and correct ; nor, on the other hand, do we mean to espouse all its parts, which must be left to speak for themselves. What he means by innate idols, he thus illustrates : — not only do the rays of truth, from without, fall obliquely on the mirror of the mind, but that mirror itself is not pure and plain ; it discolours, it magnifies, it diminishes, it distorts. Hence, he uses the words intellectus humanus, mens hominis, &c. in a sense now peculiar, but in his day conformable to the language of the schools, to signify not intellect in general, or mind in its perfection, but the in- tellect or mind of man, weakened and corrupted, as it is, more or less, in every individual. A necessary consequence of this corruption, is the arrogance, which leads man to take the forms and mechanism of his own reflective faculty, as the measure of nature, and of the Deity. Of all idols, or of all opinions, this is the most difficult to remedy, or extirpate ; and therefore, in this view, the intellect of man is more prone to error, than even his senses. Such is the sound and incontrovertible doctrine of Bacon ; but herein he does no more, than repeat what both Plato and Heraclitus had long before urged, with most impressive argument. The forms of the reflective faculty are subjective; the til. II. ON THE SCIENCE Of METHOD. 29 i.,tro,i„o truths to be embraced are objective: but according to Plato, as well as to Bacon, there ^^ can be no hope of any fruitful and secure Method, so long as forms, merely subjective, are arbitrarily assumed to be the moulds of objective truth, the seals and impresses of nature. What then ! Does Bacon abandon the hope of rectifying the obliquities of the human intellect ; or does he suggest, that they will be remedied by the casual operation of external impressions ? Neither of these. He considers, that its weaknesses and imperfections require to be strengthened and made perfect by a higher power ; and that this is possible to be done. He supposes, that the intellect of the individual, or homme particu/icrc, may be refined by the intellect of the ideal man, or homme generate. He assumes, that as the evidence of the senses is corrected by the judgment, so the evi- dence of the judgment, beset with idols, may be corrected by the judgment, walking in the light of ideas. It is surely superfluous to urge, that this corrector and purifier of all reasoning, this inextinguishable pole star — Which never in the ocean waves was wet; whether it be called, as by Bacon, lumen siccum, or as by Plato, vsc, or fag vo^ov, is one and the same light of Truth, the indispensable condition of all pure science, contempla- tive, or experimental. Hence, it will not surprise us, that Plato so often denominates ideas living laws, in and by which the mind has its whole true being and permanence ; or that Bacon, vice versa, names the laws of nature, ideas; and represents the great leading facts of science as signatures, impressions, and symbols of those ideas. A distinguishable power self-affirmed, and seen in its unity with the Eternal Essence, is, according to Plato, an Idea : and the discipline by which the human mind is purified from its idols, and raised to the contemplation of Ideas, and thence to the o secure and progressive, investigation of truth and reality, by scientific method, comprehends what the same philosopher so highly extols, under the title of Dialectic. According to Lord Bacon, as describing the same truth, applied to natural philosophy, an idea would be de- fined as — Intuitio, sive inventio, quae in perceptione sensus non est(ut quee purae et sicci luminis Intellectioni sit propria) idearum divinae mentis, prout in creaturis, persignaturas suas, sese patefaciant. " That (saith the judicious Hooker) which doth assign to each thing the kind, that which determineth the force and power, that which doth appoint the form and measure of working, the same we term a Law." From all that has been said, it seems clear, that the only difference between Plato and Bacon was, that, to speak in popular language, the one more especially cultivated natural philosopliy, the other metaphysics. Plato treated principally of truth, as ma- nifested in the world of intellect ; Bacon of the same truth, as manifested in the world 30 INTRODUCTION. introduc f sense ; Du t far from disagreeing, as to the mode of attaining that truth, far from SectionU. '^^ v ^**' differing in their great views of the education of the mind, they both proceeded on the same principles of unity and progression ; and consequently both cultivated alike the Science of Method, such as we have here described it. If we are correct in these state- ments, then may we boast to have. solved the great problem of conciliating ancient and modern philosophy. /Historical-, That the Method, of which we have hitherto treated, is not arbitrarily assumed in view. any, or all of the pursuits, to which we have adverted ; nor is peculiar to these in parti- cular but is founded in the laws and necessary conditions of human existence, is further to be inferred from a general view of the history of the human race. As in the individual, so in the whole community of mankind, our cogitations have an infancy of aimless activity ; and a youth of education and advance towards order ; and an opening manhood, of high hopes and expectations; and a settled, staid, and sober middle age, of ripened and deliberate judgment. Krstperiod. " The antiquity of time was the youth of the world and of knowledge," said Bacon. In that early age, the obedience of the will was first taught to man. He was required to look up, in submission, to that Spirit of Truth, which, after all, we find to be at the 'head of wisdom. This innocent age was happily prolonged, among those, whose first care was to cultivate the moral sense, and to seek in faith the evidence of things nOt seen. To them were propounded a Spiritual Creator, and a spiritual worship, and the assured hope of a future and spiritual existence ; and therefore they were less curious to watch the motions of the stars, or to become " artificers in brass and iron," or to " handle the harp and the organ." They were less wise in their generation, than the " mighty men of old, the men of renown ;" but their ideas were plain, and distinct; they were " just and perfect men;" and they "walked with God;" whilst, of the others " every imagination of the thoughts of the heart was only evil con- tinually." For the latter wilfully chose an opposite method: they determined to shape their convictions and deduce their knowledge from without, by exclusive observation of outward things, as the only realities. Hence they became rapidly civilized. They built cities, and refined on the means of sensual gratification, and the conveniences of courtly intercourse. They became the great masters of the agreeable, which frater- nized readily with cruelty and rapacity : these being, indeed, but alternate moods of the same sensual selfishness. Thus, both before and after the flood, the vicious of mankind receded from all true cultivation, as they hurried towards civilization. Finally, as it was not in their power to make themselves wholly beasts', and to remain without a semblance of religion, and yet, as they were faithful to their original maxim,— | ' # OX THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 31 intake- determined to receive nothing as true, but what they derived, or believed themselves to section it. lion. ° " \^r~^-^t^ derive from their senses, or (in modern phrase) what they could prove a posteriori, — they became idolaters of the Heavens, and of the material elements ; and finally, out of the idols of the mind, they formed material idols : and bowed down to stocks and stones, as to the unformed and incorporeal Divinity. A new era next appeared, representative of the youth and approaching manhood of Sec . ond the human intellect : and again Providence, as it were, awakened men to the pursuit of an idealised Method, in the developement of their faculties. Orpheus, Linus, Musseus, and the other mythological bards, or perhaps brotherhoods of bards impersonated under individual names, whether deriving their light, imperfectly and indirectly, from the inspired writings of the Hebrews, or graciously visited, for high and important purposes, by a dawning of truth in their own breasts, began to spiritualise Polytheism, and thereby to prevent it from producing all its natural, barbarising effects. Hence the mysteries and mythological hymns; which, on the one hand, gradually shaped themselves into epic poetry and history, and, on the other, into tragedy and philosophy : whilst to the lifeless statuary of the Egyptians was superadded a Promethean animation; and the ideal in sculpture soon extending itself to painting, and to architecture, the Fine Arts at once shot up to perfection, by a Method founded wholly on a mental initiative, and conducted throughout its progress by the developement of ideas. This rapid, advance, in all things which owe their existence and character to the mind's own acts, intellectual or imaginative, forms a singular contrast with the rude and imperfect manner, in which those acts were applied to the investigation of physical laws and phenomena. While Phidias, Apelles, Homer, Demosthenes, Thucydides, and Plato, had, each in his individual sphere, attained almost the summit of conceivable ex- cellence, the natural history and the natural philosophy of the whole world may be said to have lain dormant ; especially if we compare them with the efforts which the moderns made in these directions, in the very morning of their strength. Of the Roman era it is scarcely necessary to speak at large, inasmuch as the Romwu. Romans were confessedly mere imitators of the Greeks in every thing relating to science and art. They sustained a very important part in the civil, and military, and ecclesiastical history of mankind ; and their devotion to these objects was, in their own eyes, a sufficient apology for their want of originality in what they held to be far inferior pursuits. Excudent alii spirantia mollius sera : Credo equidera, vivos ducent de marmore vultus : Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento. Reforma- tion. 32 INTRODUCTION. Still less will it be expected, that we should devote much space to the consideration section ir. of those dark ages, which brought the countless hordes of sensual barbarians from their northern forests to meet, in the southern and middle parts of Europe, the spiritualizing influence of Christianity: but one remarkable effect of that influence we cannot suffer to pass unnoticed. We allude to the gradual abolition of domestic slavery, in virtue of a principle essential to Christianity, by which a person is eternally differenced from a thing ; so that the idea of a human being necessarily excludes the idea of property, in that being. We come down, then, to the great period of the Reformation, which, regarded as an epoch in the education of the human mind, was second to none for its striking and durable effects. The defenders of a simple and spiritual worship, against one Avhich was full of outward forms and ceremonies ; the partisans of religious liberty, against the dominion of a visible head over the whole Christian church ; and generally speaking, the advocates of the ideal and internal, against the external, or imaginative ; maintained a zealous, and in great part of Europe, a prosperous conflict. But the revolution of thought, and its effects on the science of Method, were soon visible beyond the pale of the church or the cloister : and the schoolmen were attacked as warmly in their philosophical, as they had before been in their ecclesiastical character. It is needless to dwell on the various attempts toward introducing into learning a totally new method. That of our illustrious countryman, Bacon, was completely successful : and we have already shown, that it was, in truth, the completion of the ideal system, by applying the same method to external nature, which Plato had before applied to intellectual existence. B niio5™h fr * s on ty m * ne umon °f these two branches of one and the same method, that a complete and genuine philosophy can be said to exist. To this consideration the great mind of Bacon does not seem to have been fully awake ; and hence, not only is the general scope of his work directed almost exclusively to the contemplation of physical ideas; but there are occasional expressions, which, seem to have misled many of his followers into a belief, that he considered all wisdom and all science, both to begin and to end with the object of the senses. In this gross error are laid the foundations of the modern French -school, which has grown up into the monstrous puerilities of Con- dillac, and Condorcet; men whose names it would be absolutely ridiculous to mention, in a history of science, if their pupils did not unhappily compensate, in num- ber, what their works want in common sense and intelligibility ; and if upon such writers, the French nation did not mainly rest its pretensions to give the law to Europe, in matters of science and philosophy. SECTION III. APPLICATION OF THE PRINCIPLES OF METHOD TO THE GENERAL CONCATENATION AND DEVELOPEMENT OF STUDIES. introduc- We have' already dwelt so much on the general importance of Method — we have section m. ^recurred to it so frequently— we have placed it in so many various lights, that we ought perhaps to apologise for venturing on one more attempt to illustrate our meaning, partly in the way of simile, and partly of example. Let us, however, imagine an unlettered African, or rude, but musing Indian, poring over an illumined manuscript of the inspired volume; with the vague, yet deep impression, that his fates and fortunes are, in some unknown manner, connected with its contents. Every tint, every group of characters, has its several dream. Say, that after long and dissatis- fying toils, he begins to sort, first, the paragraphs that appear to resemble each other ; then the lines, the words; nay, that he has at length discovered, that the whole is formed by the recurrence and interchange of a limited number of cyphers, letters, marks and points, which, however, in the very height and utmost perfection of his attainment, he makes twenty-fold more numerous than they are, by classing every different form of the same character, intentional or accidental, as a separate element. And yet the whole is without soul or substance, a talisman of superstition, or a mockery of science ; or is employed perhaps, at last, to feather the arrows of death, or to shine and flutter amid the plumes of savage vanity. The poor Indian too truly represents the state of learned and systematic ignorance — arrangement guided by the light of no leading idea ; mere orderliness without method ! But see, the friendly missionary arrives ! He explains to him the nature of written words, translates them for him into his native sounds, and thence into the thoughts of his heart : how many of these thoughts are then first unfolded into consciousness, which yet the awakening disciple receives not as aliens ! Henceforward the book is unsealed for Mm ; the depth is opened ; he communes with the spirit of the volume, as with a living oracle. The words become transparent: he sees them, as though he saw them not; whilst he mentally devours the meaning they contain. From that moment, his former chimerical and useless arrangement is discarded, and the results of method are to him life and truth. If some particular studies are yet confessedly deficient in the vivifying power of Method, we much fear that the attempts to bind together the whole body of science f 34 INTRODUCTION. introduc- have been, in certain instances, worse than immethodical. A slight glance at the SKCt!on ni - tion. v " particular department of literature which we have chosen, especially as it has been filled on the Continent; from the memorable combination of deistical talent in the Dictiorinaire Encyclopedique, to a work, on the same principles, said to be now publishing in France, will demonstrate, that the best interests of mankind have suffered serious injury from this cause ; that the fountains of education may be poisoned, where the stream appears to flow on with increasing power and smoothness ; and that the insinuation of sceptical principles into works of Science, is fraught with the greatest danger to posterity. To oppose an effectual barrier to the rage for desultory knowledge, on the one hand, and to support that body of independent attachment to the best prin- ples of all knowledge, which happily distinguishes this country, on the other, the Encyclopedia Metro politana has been projected. We do not undertake, what the most gigantic efforts of man could not atchieve, an universal Dictionary of Knowledge, in the most absolute sense of the terms. But estimating the importance of our task rather by the principles of unity and com- pression, than by those of variety and extent, we have laboured to build upon what is essential, that which is obviously useful, and upon both whatever is elegant or agree- able in science ; and this, we conceive, cannot be well and usefully effected, but by such a philosophical Method, as we have already indicated. We have shown that this Method consists in placing one or more particular things or notions, in subordination, either to a pre-conceived universal idea, or to some lower form of the latter; some class, order, genus, or species, each of which derives its intellectual significancy, and scientific worth, from being an ascending step toward the universal ; from being its representative, or temporary substitute. Without this master-thought, therefore, there can be no true Method : and according as the general conception more or less clearly manifests itself throughout all the particulars, as their connective and bond of unity ; according as the light of the idea is freely diffused through, and completely illumines, the aggregate mass, the Method is more or less perfect. The first pre-conception, or master- thought, on which our plan rests, is the moral origin and tendency of all true science ; in other words, our great objects are to exhibit the Arts and Sciences in their philosophical harmony ; to teach Philosophy in union with Morals ; and to sustain Morality by Revealed Religion. There are, as we have before noticed, two sorts of relation, on the due obser- vation of which all Method depends. The first is that, which the ideas or laws of ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 3"j intimiuc- the mind bear to each other; the second, that which they bear to the external world : Action if r. V ^" N '~ W on the former are built the Pure Sciences ; on the latter those which we call Mixed and Applied. The Pure Sciences, then, represent pure acts of the mind, and those only ; whether p V r f employed in contemplating the forms under which things in their first elements are necessarily viewed and treated by the mind ; or in contemplating the substantial reality of those things. Hence, in the pure sciences, arises the known distinction of formal and real: and FormaI aad ' J real. of the first, some teach the elementary forms, which the mind necessarily adopts in the processes of reasoning ; and others, those under which alone all particular objects can be grasped and considered by the mind ; either as distinguishable in quantity and number, or as occupying parts of space. The real sciences, on the other hand, are con- versant with the true nature and existence, either of the created universe around us ; or of the guiding principles within us, in their various modifications and distinguishing- movements ; or, lastly, with the real nature and existence of the great Cause of all. We begin, then, with that class of pure sciences which we have called formal ; Grammar, and of these, the first two that present themselves to us, are Grammar and Lo^ic. By Grammar we are taught the rules of that speech, which serves as the medium of mental intercourse between man and man; by Logic, the mental operations are them- selves regulated and bound together, in a certain method or order. As the communi- cation of knowledge is the more immediate object of our present discussion, so we begin with that science by which it is regulated in its forms. Grammar, then, apart from the mere material consideration of the sound of words, or shape. of letters, and regarding speech only as a thing significant, teaches that there are certain laws regulating that signification ; laws which are immutable in their very nature : for the relation which a noun bore to a verb, or a substantive to an adjective, was the same in the earliest days of ^oirwv avQ^unuv, in the first intelligible conversations of men, as it is now; nor can it ever vary so long as the powers of thought remain the same in the human mind. This, then, is a pure science proceeding from a simple or elementary idea of the form necessary for the conveyance of a single thought, and thence spreading and diffusing itself over all the relations of significant language. Grammar brings us, naturally, to the Science of Logic, or the knowledge of those Logic. forms which the conceptions of the mind assume in the processes of reasoning. And it is manifest, that this science is no less subject than the former, to fixed laws; for the reasoning power in man can only operate within those limits which Almighty Wisdom has thought fit to prescribe. It is a discursive faculty, moving in a given path, and by f 2 BG INTRODUCTION. liitrodue- allotted means. There is no possibility of subverting or altering the elementary rules Section m. K ^~ it consists not of law, but of theory, or hypothesis. True theory is always in the first and purest sense a locum tenens of law ; when it is not, it degenerates into hypothesis, and hypothesis melts away into conjecture. Both in law and in theory, there must be a mental ante- cedent ; but in the latter, it maybe an image or conception received through the senses, and originating from without ; yet even then there is an inspiring passion, or desire, or instinctive feeling of the truth, which is the immediate and proper offspring of the mind. Now, we may consider the facts which are to be reduced to theory, as arranged over the whole surface of a plane circle. If by carrying the power of theory to a near identity with law, we find the centre of the circle, then proceeding toward the circumference, our insight into the whole may be enlarged by new discoveries ; it never can be wholly changed. A magnificent example of this has been realized in the science of Astronomy ; a recent addition of facts has been effected by the discovery of other planets, and our views have been rendered more distinct by the solution of the apparent irregularities of the moon's motion, and their subsumption under the general law of gravitation. But the Newtonian was not less a system before, than. since, the discovery of the Georgium Sidus ; not by having ascertained its circumference, but by 38 INTRODUCTION. introduc- i iav i n g found its centre ; the living and salient point, from which the method of discovery Section in. s **" v "^" / diverges, the law in which endless discoveries are contained implicitly, and to which as they afterwards arise, they may be referred in endless succession. These reasonings, it is hoped, will sufficiently explain the nature of the transition, from the Pure Sciences to the Mixed and Applied Sciences, and will serve to trace the inse- parable connection of the latter with the constitution of the human mind. And as each of these great divisions of knowledge has its own department in the grand moral science of man, it is obvious that a scheme, which, like our own, not only contains each separately, but combines both as indivisible, the one from the other ; must present, in the most advantageous point of view, whatever is useful and beautiful in either. In speaking of the mixed and applied sciences, we must be permitted, however, to remark that the word science, is evidently used in a looser and more popular form, than when we denominate mathematics, or metaphysics, a science ; for we know not, for instance, the truth of any general result of observation in nosology, as we know that two and two make four, or that a human person cannot be identical with another human person. And in like manner, when the word law, is used with relation to the mixed and applied sciences; -as when we speak of any supposed law of vegetation ; we use a more popular language than when we speak of a law of the conscience, which is not to be prevaricated. The strictness of ancient philosophy, therefore, refused the name of science to these pursuits : and it might at least be convenient, if in speaking generally of the pure, the mixed, and the applied sciences, we gave them the common name of studies, inasmuch as we study them all alike, but we do not know them all with the same sort of knowledge. Mixed. Of these, then (be they studies or sciences), we call those mixed in which certain ideas of the mind, are applied to the general properties of bodies, solid, fluid, and aerial; to the power of vision, and to the arrangement of the universe ; whence we obtain the sciences of Mechanics, Hydrostatics, Pneumatics, Optics, and Astronomy. It is matter not of certain science, but of observation, that such properties do really exist in bodies, that vision is effected in such or such a manner, and that the universe is disposed in this or that relative position, and subjected to certain movements of its parts. Therefore these sciences may vary, and notoriously have varied; and though Kepler would demonstrate that Euclid Copernicised; or had some knowledge of the system afterwards adopted by Copernicus; yet of this there is little proof: and certainly for many ages after Euclid it was the universal opinion, that the earth was the fixed and immove- able centre, of the universe. Nor have we here unadvisedly used the word opinion; since, as we before showed, it is the ancient expression, signifying a medium OX THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 39 latroduc- DC t W ecn knowledge and ignorance : and well did that acute Italian exclaim, Sect!on nr w ' Opiiiionc, rcgina del mondo! — for as it is impossible that ignorance, which cannot govern itself, should govern any thing else ; so to expect that all the world should be wise enough to submit to the government of wisdom, would be to show that we had followed very little Method in our study either of history, of living men, or even of ourselves. When certain ideas, or images representative of ideas, are applied still more Applied. particularly, not to the investigation of the general and permanent properties of all bodies, but .of certain changes in those properties, or of properties existing in bodies partially, then we popularly call the studies relative to such matters by the name of Applied Sciences; such are Magnetism, Electricity, Galvinism, Chemistry, the laws of Experi- mental phi- Light and Heat, Sec. We have already so fully shown the uncertainty of the first prin- loso P h y- ciples in these studies, and have so distinctly traced the cause of that uncertainty, in every case, to a want of clearness in the first idea or mental initiative of the science, that it will be unnecessary here to do more than refer to our preceding observations. "We come now to another class of applied sciences, namely, those which are applied Fine Arts. to the purposes of pleasure, through the medium of the imagination ; and which are commonly called the Fine Arts. These are Poetry, Painting, Music, Sculpture, Architecture. We have before said, that the Method to be observed in these, holds a sort of middle place between the method of law, or pure science, and the Method of theory. In regard to the mixed sciences, and to the first class of applied sciences, the mental initiative may have been received from without; but it has escaped some critics, that in the fine arts the mental initiative must necessarily proceed from within. Hence we find them giving, as it were, recipes to form a poet, by placing him in certain directions and positions ; as if they thought that every deer-stealer might, if he pleased, become a Shakspeare, or that Shakspeare's mind was made up of the shreds and ' patches of the books of his day; which by good fortune he happened to read in such an order, that they successively fitted into the scenes of Macbeth, Othello, the Tempest, As you like it, &c. Certainly the fine arts belong to the outward world, for they all operate by the images of sight and sound, and other sensible impressions; and without a delicate tact for these, no man ever was, or could be either a musician, or a poet ; nor could he attain to excellence in any one of these arts : but as certainly he must always be a poor and unsuccessful cultivator of the arts, if he is not impelled first by a mighty, inward power, a feeling, quod nequeo monstrare, et sentio tantum ; nor can he make great advances in his art,if in the course of his progress, the obscure impulse does not gradually become a bright, and clear, and living idea ! 40 INTRODUCTION. introdiic- Pursuits of utility, we daily find, are capable of being reduced to Method. Thus Section m. Useful Arts. tion. 'Political Economy, and Agriculture, and Commerce, and Manufactures, are now consi- dered scientifically ; or as the more prevalent expression is, philosophically. It may, perhaps, be difficult, at first, to persuade the experimental agriculturist, that he also pursues, or ought to pursue, an ideal Method : nor do we mean by this that he must deal only in ideal sheep and oxen, and in the groves and meads of Fairy Land. But these studies, soberly considered, will be found wholly dependent on the sciences of which we have already treated. It is not, surely, in the country of Arkwright, that the philosophy of commerce can be thought independent of mechanics : and where Davy has delivered lectures on agriculture, it would be folly to say that the most phi- losophic views of chemistry were not conducive to the making our vallies laugh with corn. Natural We have already spoken of Linnaeus, the illustrious Swede, to whom the three king- history. doms, as they are aptly called, of Natural History, are so deeply indebted : and if, with all his great talents, he yet failed in establishing the united empire of those three mighty monarchies, on firm laws, and a fixed constitution ; we have shewn, that it was only owing to a want of precision in the first ideas of his theory. Appiica- Natural history itself becomes a rule for dependent pursuits, such as those of Medi- tions of. cine (under which are Pharmacy, and the Materia Medica), and Surgery, in which is included Anatomy. That in these and the other theoretical studies, so much still re- mains to be done, ought not to be a subject for regret ; but, on the contrary, for a laudable and generous ambition. Yet that ambition should be regulated and moderated by a due consideration of the place, which the particular pursuit in question, holds in the great circle of the sciences ; and by observing the only proper Method which can be pursued for its improvement. If, in what we have here said, we have done any thing towards the excitement, the regulation, and the assistance of that ambition; if we have faintly sketched an outline of the great laws of Method, which bind together the various branches of human knowledge, we may not improperly indulge a hope that the ensuing work, in its progress, will be found conducive to the promotion of the best interests of mankind. i History and Our Plan would not completely meet the views of those to whom such Biograp y. wor k g ag tne following are eminently useful and agreeable, if besides the philoso- phic Method already described, we did not present some view of the actual history of mankind. We have therefore devoted a large portion of our labours to the History of the Human Race, on a new, and we trust it will be found an improved system. Biography and history tend to the same points of general instruc- ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 41 introduce tj on> i n t wo ways: the one exhibiting human principles and passions, acting upon a StlIo " ,,r large scale ; the other shewing them as they move in a smaller circle, but enabling us to trace the orbit which they describe with greater precision. The one brings man into contact with society, actuated by the interests which agitate and stimulate him in the various social combinations of his existence ; and human nature presents itself in the varied shapes impressed upon it by the different ranks which it occupies. The other brings before us the individual, when he stands alone, his passions asleep, his native impulses under no external excitement ; in the undress of one who has retired from the stage, on which he felt he had a part to sustain ; and even the monarch, forgetting the pomp and circumstance of his royalty, remembers here only that he is a man. Assuredly the great use of History is to acquaint us with the Nature of Man. This end is best answered by the most faithful portrait ; but Biography is a collection of portraits. At the same time there must be some mode of grouping and connecting the individuals, who are themselves the great landmarks in the map of human nature. It has therefore occurred to us, that the most effectual mode of attaining the chief objects of historical knowledge, will be to present History in the form of Biography, chronologi- cally arranged. * This will be preceded by a general Introduction on the Uses of History, and on the line which separates its early facts from fable ; and it will, in the course of its progress, be interspersed with connecting chapters on the events of large and distinguishing periods of time, as well as on political Geography and Chronology. Thus will the far larger portion of History be conveyed, not only in its most interesting, but in its most philosophical and real form ; while the remaining facts will be inter- woven in the preliminary and connecting chapters. If in tracing thus the " eventful history" of man, and particularly of our own country, we should perceive, as we must necessarily do in all that is human, evils and imperfections ; these will not be without their uses, in leading us back to the importance of intellectual Method as their grand and sovereign remedy. Hence shall we learn its proper national application, namely, the education of the mind, first in the man and citizen, and then, inclusively, in the State itself. Such are our views in the philosophical and historical branches of our work. Of Alphabetic the Miscellaneous or Alphabetical Division we have little to add. But well aware that m"m. ge " works of this nature are not solely useful to those who have leisure and inclination to study science in its comprehensiveness, and unity ; but are also valuable for daily reference on particular points, suggested by the desires or business of the individual ; we could not hold ourselves dispensed from consulting the convenience of a numerous and most respectable class of Readers ; while the preceding remarks will go to prove S 42 INTRODUCTION. introdue- that for many local and supplementary illustrations of science, no other depository sectiouiii tion. could be furnished. As the philosophical arrangement is, however, most conducive to the purposes of intellectual research and information, as it will most naturally interest men of science and literature ; will present the circle of knowledge in its harmony ; will give that unity of design and of elucidation, the want of which we have most deeply felt in other works of a similar kind, where the desired information is divided into innume- rable fragments scattered over many volumes, like a mirror broken on the ground, presenting, instead of one, a thousand images, but none entire ; this division must of necessity, have that prominence in the prosecution of our design, which our con- viction of its importance to the due execution of the plan demands ; and every other part of the arrangement must be considered as subordinate to this principal organization. With respect to the whole work, it should be observed, that ■ in what concerns references we are guided by principle, not by caprice ; nor do we ever recur to them as our only means of escape from an exigency. Throughout the Encyclopaedia Metropolitans, the philosophical arrangement predominates and regulates; the alphabetical arrangement, and the references, whether to it or from it, are auxiliary. We never refer from the first and second Divisions to the fourth, or from the first to the second, for the explanation of a term, the esta- blishment of a principle, or the demonstration of a proposition. The reference, whenever it occurs, unless it be retrospective, is not for the purpose of essential information, but for that which is collateral and subordinate. The theory of the balance, for example, is given where it ought to be, in the Treatise on Mechanics'; but they who wish to acquaint themselves with the various constructions of balances for the purposes of commerce or philosophy, knowing that these cannot be intro- duced into a scientific treatise, without destroying the symmetry of its parts by a suspension of the logical order, will naturally turn, whether there be a reference or not, to the alphabetical department of the work. So again, the principles of the telescope are given in the treatise on Optics ; the varieties of construction in the alpha- betical department : the principles of the thermometer, when treating of the effects of heat ; its varieties of construction in the alphabetical department. Practical detail, and niceties or peculiarities of construction, can seldom be interwoven with propriety among the regular deductions of a methodical treatise : in all cases where they cannot, our general principle, as it comprehends proportion, accuracy, utility, and convenience, demands a reference, whether expressed or not, to the appropriate place for all that is subservient ; that is, to the fourth or alphabetical division. ON THE SCIENCE OF METHOD. 43 This final division of our work will bring the whole into unison with the two great Scctionni. impulses of modern times, trade and literature. These, after the dismemberment of the Roman empire, gradually reduced the conquerors and the conquered at once into several nations and a common Christendom. The natural law of increase, and the instincts of family, may produce tribes, and under rare and peculiar circumstances, settlements and neighbourhoods : and conquest may form empires. But without trade and literature, combined, there can be no nation; without commerce and science, no bond of nations. As the one has for its object the wants of the body, real or artificial, the desires for which are for the greater part excited from without ; so the other has for its origin, as well as for its object, the wants of the mind, the gratifica- tion of which is a natural and necessary condition of its growth and sanity. In the pursuits of commerce the man is called into action from without, in order to appro- priate the outward world, as far as he can bring it within his reach, to the purposes of his corporeal nature. In his scientific and literary character he is internally excited to various studies and pursuits, the ground-work of which is in himself. This, again, will conduct us to the distinguishing object of the present under- taking ; in endeavouring to explain which we have dwelt long upon general principles ; but not too long, if we have established the necessity of what we conceive to be the main characteristic of every just arrangement of knowledge. Our method embraces the two-fold distinction of human activity to which we have adverted ; — the two great directions of man and society, with their several objects and ends. Without advocating the exploded doctrine of ■perfectibility, we cannot but regard all that is human in human nature, and all that in nature is above herself, as together working forward that far deeper and more permanent revolution in the moral world, of which the recent changes in the political world may be regarded as the pioneering whirlwind and storm. But woe to that revolution which is not guided by the historic sense; by the pure and unsophisticated knowledge of the past : and to convey this methodically, so as to aid the progress of the future, has been already announced as the distinguishing claim of the Encyclopaedia Metropolitana. The principles of Method, developed in the preceding Essay, will, it is hoped, render perfectly intelligible the Plan of our whole work, which is comprehended under Four Divisions as follow : FIRST DIVISION. FORMAL. PURE SCIENCES. 2 Vols. REAL. Universal Grammar and Philology : or the forms of Languages. Logic, particular and universal : or the forms of Conceptions and their combinations. Mathematics : (Geometry, Arithmetic, Algebra,