The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakspere Unfolded Part 15

Hast thou not learn'd me how To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so, That our great king himself doth woo me oft For my confections? Having thus far proceeded, (Unless thou think'st me devilish,) is't not meet That I did amplify my judgment in Other conclusions? _Cymbeline_.

Thus far, it is the science of Man, _as he is_, that is propounded. It is a scientific history of the Mind and its diseases, built up from particulars, as other scientific histories are; and having disposed, in this general manner, of that which must be dealt with by way of _application_, those points of nature and fortune, which he puts down as the basis and conditions to _which all our_ WORK _is limited and tied_, we come now to that which IS within our power--to those points which we can deal with by way of ALTERATION, and not of _application_ merely; and yet points which are operating perpetually on the human character, changing the will and appet.i.te, and altering the conduct, by laws not less sure than those which operate in the occult processes of nature, and determine differences behind the scene, or out of the range of our volition.

And if after having duly weighed the hints we have already received of the importance of the subject, we do not any longer suffer ourselves to be put off the track, or bewildered by the first rhetorical effect of the sentence in which these agencies are introduced to our attention,--if we look at that rapid series of words, as something else than the points of a period, if we stop long enough to recover from the confusion which a mere string of names, a catalogue or table of contents, crowded into single sentence, will, of necessity, create,--if we stop long enough to see that each one of these words is a point in the table of a new science, we shall perceive at once, that after having made all this large allowance, this _new_ allowance for that which is _without_ our power, there is still a very, very large margin of operation, and discovery, and experiment left; that there is still a large scope of _alteration_ left--alteration in man as he is.

For we shall find that these forces which _are_ within our power, are the very ones which are making, and always have been making, man what he is. Running our eye along this table of forces and supplies, with that understanding of its uses, we shall perceive at once, that we have the most ample material here, if it were but scientifically handled; untried, inexhaustible means and appliances for raising man to the height of his pattern and original, to the stature of a perfect man.

It is not the material of this regimen of growth and advancement, it is not the Materia Medica that is wanting,--it is the science of it.

It is the natural history of these forces, with the precepts scientifically concluded on them, that is wanting. The appliances are here; the scientific application of them remains to be made, and until these have been tried, it is too early to p.r.o.nounce on the case; until these have been tried, just as other precepts of the new science have been, it is too soon to say that that science of nature,--that knowledge of laws--that foreknowledge of effects, which operates so remedially in all other departments of the human life, is without application, is of no efficiency here; until these have been tried it is too soon to say that the science of nature is _not_ what the man who brought it in on this Globe theatre _declared it_ to _be_, the handmaid of Divinity, the intelligent handmaid and minister of religion, to whose discretion in the economy of Providence, much, much has evidently been left.

And it was no a.s.sumption in this man to claim, as he did claim, a divine and providential authority for this procedure. And those who intelligently fulfil their parts in this great enterprise for man's relief, and the Creator's glory, have just as clear a right to say, as those of old who fulfilled with such means and lights, and inspirations as their time gave them, their part in the plan of the human advancement, 'it is G.o.d who worketh in us.'

'Now come we to those points which _are_ within our command, and have _force_ and _operation_ upon the mind, to _affect the will and appet.i.te_, and to alter manners: wherein they ought to have handled CUSTOM, EXERCISE, HABIT, EDUCATION, EXAMPLE, IMITATION, EMULATION, COMPANY, FRIENDS, PRAISE, REPROOF, EXHORTATION, FAME, LAWS, BOOKS, STUDIES: these, as they have determinate use in moralities, from these _the mind_ SUFFERETH; and of these are such receipts and regiments compounded and described, as may serve to recover or preserve the health and good estate of the mind, as far as pertaineth to human medicine; of which number we will insist upon some one or two, _as an example of the rest_, because it _were too long_ to prosecute _all_.'

But the careful reader perceives in that which follows, that the treatment of this so vital subject, though all that the author has to say upon it _here_, is condensed into these brief paragraphs, is not by any means so miscellaneous, as this introduction and 'the _first_ cogitation' on it, might, perhaps, have prepared him to find it.

To be permitted to handle these forces openly, in the form of literary report, and recommendation, would, no doubt, have seemed to this inventor of sciences, in his day no small privilege. But there was another kind of experiment in them which he aspired to. He wished to take these forces in hand more directly, and compound recipes, with them, and other 'regiments' and cures. For by nature and carefullest study he was a Doctor in this degree and kind--and a man thus fitted, inevitably seeks his sphere. Very unlearned in this science of human nature which he has left us,--much wanting in a.n.a.lysis must he be, who can find in the persistent determination of such a man to possess himself of places of trust and authority, only the vulgar desire for courtly distinction, and eagerness for the paraphernalia of office.

This man was not wanting in any of the common natural sentiments; the private and particular nature was large in him, and that good to which he gives the preference in his comparison of those exclusive aims and enjoyments, is 'the good which is _active_, and not that which is _pa.s.sive_'; both as it tends to secure that individual perpetuity which is the especial craving of men thus specially endowed, and on account of 'that affection for variety and _proceeding_' which is also common to men, and specially developed in such men,--an affection which the goods of the pa.s.sive nature are not able to satisfy. 'But in _enterprises_, pursuits and purposes of life, there is much variety whereof men are sensible with pleasure in their inceptions, progressions, recoils, re-integration, approaches and attainings to their ends.' And he gives us a long insight into his own particular nature and history in that sentence. He is careful to distinguish this kind of good from the good of society, 'though in some cases it hath an incident to it. For that gigantine state of mind which possesseth the _troublers_ of the world, such as was Lucius Sylla, and _infinite other in smaller model_, who would have all men happy or unhappy, as they were their friends or enemies, _and would give form to the world according to their own humours_, which is the true _theomachy_, pretendeth and aspireth to _active good_ though it _recedeth farthest_ from that _good of society_, which we have determined to be _the greater_.'

In no troubler or benefactor of the world, on the largest scale, in no theomachist of any age, whether intelligent and benevolent, or demoniacal and evil, had this nature which he here defines so clearly, ever been more largely incorporated, or more effectively armed. But in him this tendency to personal aggrandis.e.m.e.nt was overlooked, and subordinated by the larger nature,--by the intelligence which includes the whole, and is able to weigh the part with it, and by the sentiments which enforce or antic.i.p.ate intelligent decision.

Both these facts must be taken into the account, if we would read his history fairly. For he composed for himself a plan of living, in which this naturally intense desire for an individual perpetuity and renown, and this love of action and enterprise for its own sake, was sternly subordinated to the n.o.blest ends of living, to the largest good of his kind, to the divine and eternal law of duty, to the relief of man's estate and the Creator's glory. And without making any claim on his behalf, which it would be unworthy to make for one to whom the truth was dearer than the opinions of men; it may be a.s.serted, that whatever errors of judgment or pa.s.sion, we may find, or think we find in him, these ends were with him predominant, and shaped his course.

He was not naturally a man of _letters_, but a man of action, intensely impelled to action, and it was because he was forbidden to fulfil his enterprise in person, because he had to write letters of direction to those to whom he was compelled to entrust it, because he had to write letters to the future, and leave himself and his will in letters, that letters became, in his hands, _practical_. He, too, knew what it was to be compelled 'to unpack his heart in words' when deeds should have expressed it.

But even words are forbidden him here. After all the pains he has taken to show us what the deficiency is which he is reporting here, and what the art and science which he is proposing, he can only put down a few paragraphs on the subject, casually, as it were, in pa.s.sing. Of all these forces which have operation on the mind, and with which scientific appliances for the human mind should be compounded, he can only 'insist upon some one or two as an example of the rest.'

That was all that a writer, who was at the same time a public man, could venture on,--a writer who had once been under violent political suspicion, and was still eagerly watched, and especially by one cla.s.s of public functionaries, who seemed to feel, that with all his deference to their claims, there was something there not quite friendly to them, this was all that he could undertake to insist upon 'in that place.' But a writer who had the advantage of being already defunct--a writer whose estate on the earth was then already done, and who was in no kind of danger of losing either his head or his place, could of course manage this part of the subject differently. _He_ would not find it too long to prosecute all, perhaps. And if he had at the same time the advantage of a foreign name and seignorie, he could come out in England at this very crisis with the freest exhibitions of the points which are _here_ only _indicated_. He could even put them down openly in his table of contents, every one of them, and make them the t.i.tles of his chapters.

There was a work published in England, in that age, in which these forces, of which only the _catalogue_ is inserted here, these forces which _are_ in our power, which we _can_ alter, forces from which the mind _suffereth_, which have operation upon the mind to affect the will and appet.i.te, are directly dealt with in the most subtle and artistic manner, in the form of literary _essay_; and in the bolder chapters, the author's observations and criticisms are clearly put down; his scientific suggestions of alterations and new compounds, his scientific doctrine of _careful alterations_, his scientific doctrine of surgery, and adaptation of regimen, and cure to different ages, and differing social conditions, are all promiscuously filed in, and the English public swallows it without any difficulty at all, and perceives nothing disagreeable or dangerous in it.

_This_ work contains, also, some of those other parts of the new science which have just been reported as wanting, parts which are said by the inventor of this science, to have a great ministry to policy, as well as morality, and the natural history of the creature, which it is here proposed to reform, is brought out without any regard whatever to considerations which would inevitably affect a moralist, looking at the subject from any less earnest and practical--from any less _elevated_ point of view.

Of course, it was perfectly competent for a Gascon whose gasconading was understood to be without any motive beyond that of vanity and egotism, and without any incidence to effects, to say, in the way of mere foolery, many things which an English statesman could not then so well endorse. And in case his personality were called in question, there was the mountain to retreat to, and the saint of the mount, in whose behalf the goose is annually sacrificed by the English people, the saint under whose s.h.i.+eld and name the great English philosopher sleeps. In fact, this personage is not so limited in his quarters as the proper name might seem to imply. One does not have to go to the south of France to find him. But it is certainly remarkable, that a work in Natural History, composed by the inventors of the science of observation, and the first in the field, containing their observations in that part of the field too, in which the deficiency appeared to them most important, should have been able to pa.s.s so long under so thin a disguise, under this merest gauze of _egotism_, unchallenged.

These _essaies_, however, have not been without result. They have been operating incessantly, ever since, directly upon the leading minds, and indirectly upon the minds of men in general, (for many who had never read the book, have all their lives felt its influence), and tending gradually to the clearing up of the human intelligence in 'the practice part of life' in general, and to the development of a common sense on the topics here handled, much more creditable to the species than anything that the author could find stirring in his age. When the works which the propounders of the Great Instauration took pains to get composed by way of filling up their plan of it, a little, corn to be collected and bound, this one will have to find its place among them.

But here, at home, in his own historical name and figure, in his own person, instead of conducting his magnificent scientific experiments on that scale which the genius of his activity, and the largeness of his good will, would have prescribed to him, instead of founding his House of Solomon as he would have founded it, (as that proximity to the throne, when it was the throne of an absolute monarch might have enabled him to found it, if the monarch he found there had been, indeed, what he claimed to be, a lover of learning), instead of such large help and countenance as that of the king, to whom this great proposition was addressed, the philosopher of that time could not even venture on a literary essay in this field under that protection; it was as much as he could do, it was as much as his favor with the king was worth, to slip in here, in this conspicuous place, where it would be sure to be found, sooner or later, the index of his _essaies_.

'It would be too _long_,' he says, 'to inquire here into the operation of all these social forces that are making men, that are doing more to make them what they are, than nature herself is doing,' for, 'know thou,' the Poet of this Philosophy says, 'know thou MEN ARE as the TIME IS.' He has included here, in these points which he would have scientifically handled, that which makes _times_, that which _can be altered_, that which Advancements of Learning, however, set on foot at first, are sure in the end to _alter_. 'We will insist upon some one or two as an example of the rest.' And we find that the points he resumes to speak of here, are, indeed, points of primary consequence; social forces that do indeed need a scientific control, effects reported, and precepts concluded. Custom and Habit, Books and Studies, and then a kind of culture, which he says, 'seemeth to be more accurate and elaborate than the rest,' which we find, upon examination, to be a strictly religious culture, and lastly the method to which he gives the preference, as the most compendious and summary in its formative or reforming influence, 'the _electing_ and propounding unto a man's self _good and virtuous ends of his life_, such as may be in a _reasonable sort within his compa.s.s to attain_.'

He says enough under these heads to show the difficulty of writing on a subject where the science has been reported wanting, while the 'Art and Practice' is prescribed.

He lays much stress on CUSTOM and HABIT, and gives some few precepts for its management, 'made out of the pith and heart of sciences,' but he speaks briefly, and chiefly for the purpose of indicating the value he attaches to this point, for he concludes his precepts and observations on it, thus: 'Many other axioms there are, touching the managing of exercise and custom, which being _so conducted_,-- scientifically conducted--do prove, _indeed_ ANOTHER NATURE' ['almost, can _change_ the stamp of nature,'--is Hamlet's word on _this_ point]; 'but being governed by _chance_, doth commonly prove but AN APE of nature, and bringeth forth that which is _lame and counterfeit_.' For not less than that is the difference between the scientific administration of these things, from which the mind _suffereth_, and the blind, hap-hazard one.

But in proceeding to the next point on which he ventures to offer some suggestions, that of BOOKS and STUDIES, we shall do well to take with us that general doctrine of _cure_, founded upon the nature of things, which he produces under the head of the cure of the body, with a distinct allusion to its proper application here. And it is well to observe how exactly the tone of the criticism in _this department_, chimes in with that of the criticism already reported here. 'In the consideration of the _cures of diseases_, I find a deficiency in the receipts of _propriety_ respecting the _particular_ cures of diseases; for the physicians _have frustrated the fruit of tradition, and experience_, by their _magistralities_ in _adding and taking out_, and changing _quid pro quo_ in their receipts _at their pleasure_, COMMANDING SO OVER THE MEDICINE, as the medicine _cannot command over the disease_:' that is a piece of criticism which appears to belong to the general subject of cure; and here is one which he himself stops to apply to a different branch of it.

'But, lest I grow more particular than _is agreeable_, either to my intention or _proportion_, I will conclude this part with the note of one deficiency more, which seemeth to me of GREATEST consequence, which is, that the _prescripts_ in use are too COMPENDIOUS TO ATTAIN THEIR END; for, to my understanding, it is a vain and flattering opinion to think any _medicine_ can be so sovereign, or so happy, as that the receipt or use of it can work any great effect upon the body of man: it were a strange _speech_, which spoken, or spoken oft, should reclaim a man from a vice to which he were _by nature subject_; it is _order, pursuit, sequence, and interchange of application_ WHICH IS MIGHTY IN NATURE,' (and it is _power_ we are inquiring for here) 'which, although it requires more exact _knowledge_ in prescribing, and more precise _obedience_ in observing, yet it is recompensed with the magnitude of effects.'

Possessed now of his general theory of cure, we shall better understand his particular suggestions in regard to these medicines and alteratives of the mind and manners, which are here under consideration.

'So if we should handle BOOKS and STUDIES,' he continues, having handled custom and habit a little and their powers, in that profoundly suggestive manner, 'so if we should handle books and studies, and what influence and operation _they_ have upon manners, are there not divers precepts of _great caution_ and _direction_?' A question to be asked.

And he goes on to make some further enquiries and suggestions which have considerably more in them than meets the ear. They appear to involve the intimation that many of our books on moral philosophy, come to us from the youthful and poetic ages of the world, ages in which sentiment and spontaneous conviction supplied the place of learning; for the acc.u.mulations of ages of experiment and conclusion, tend to maturity and sobriety of judgment in the race, as do the corresponding acc.u.mulations in the individual experience and memory.

'And the reason why books' (which are adapted to the popular belief in these early and unlearned ages) 'are of so little effect towards _honesty of life_, is that they are not read and _revolved_--revolved--as they should be, by _men in mature years_.'

But unlearned people are always beginners. And it is dangerous to put them upon the task, or to leave them to the task of remodelling their beliefs and adapting them to the advancing stages of human development. He, too, thinks it is easier to overthrow the old opinions, than it is to discriminate that which is to be conserved in them. The hints here are of the most profoundly cautious kind--as they have need to be--but they point to the danger which attends the advancement of learning when rashly and unwisely conducted, and the danger of introducing opinions which are in advance of the popular culture; dangers of which the history of former times furnished eminent examples and warnings then; warnings which have since been repeated in modern instances. He proposes that books shall be tried by their effects on manners. If they fail to produce HONESTY OF LIFE, and if certain particular forms of truth which were once effective to that end, in the course of a popular advancement, or change of any kind, have lost that virtue, let them be examined; let the translation of them be scientifically accomplished, so that the main truth be not lost in the process, so that men be not compelled by fearful experience to retrace their steps in search of it, even, perhaps, to the resuming of the old, dead form again, with all its c.u.mbrous inefficacies; for the lack of a leaders.h.i.+p which should have been able to discriminate for them, and forestall this empirical procedure.

Speaking of books of Moral science in general, and their adaptation to different ages, he says--'Did not one of the _fathers_, in great indignation, call POESY "_vinum demonum_," because it increaseth _temptations_, _perturbations_, and _vain opinions_? Is not the opinion of Aristotle worthy to be regarded, wherein he saith, "That _young men_ are no fit _auditors_ of moral philosophy," because they are not settled from the boiling heat of their _affections_, nor attempered with _time_ and _experience_?' [And our Poet, we may remark in pa.s.sing, seems to have been struck with that same observation; for by a happy coincidence, he appears to have it in his commonplace book too, and he has not only made a note of it, as this one has, but has taken the trouble to translate it into verse. He does, indeed, go a little out of his way _in time_, to introduce it; but he is a poet who is fond of an anachronism, when it happens to serve his purpose--

'Paris and Troilus, you have both said well; And on the cause and question now in hand Have _glozed_; but, superficially, not much Unlike _young men_ whom _Aristotle_ thought Unfit to hear _moral philosophy_.']

The question is, then, as to the adaptations of forms, of moral instruction to different _ages_ of the human development. For when a decided want of 'honesty of life' shows itself, in any very general manner, under the fullest operation of _any_ given doctrine which is the received one, it is time for men of learning to begin to look about them a little; and it is a time when directions so cautious as these should not by any means be despised by those on whom the responsibility of direction, here, is in any way devolved.

'And doth it not hereof come, that those excellent books and discourses of the ancient writers, _whereby_ they have _persuaded unto virtue most effectually_, by representing her in _state_ and _majesty_, and popular opinions against virtue in their _parasites'

coats_, fit to be scorned and derided, are of so little effect towards honesty of life--

[_Polonius.--Honest_, my lord?

_Hamlet_.--Ay, honest.]

'--because they are not read and _revolved_ by men, in their mature and settled years, but confined almost _to boys and beginners_? But is it not true, also, that _much less_ young men are fit auditors of _matters of policy_ till they have been _thoroughly seasoned_ in _religion and morality_, lest their judgments be corrupted, and made apt to think that there are no true differences of things, but according to utility and fortune.'

By putting in here two or three of those 'elegant sentences' which the author has taken out from their connections in his discourses, and strung together, by way of making more perceptible points and stronger impressions with them, according to that theory of his in regard to aphorisms already quoted, we shall better understand this pa.s.sage, for the connection in which it is introduced here tends somewhat to involve and obscure the meaning. 'In removing superst.i.tions,' he tells us, then, in this so pointed manner, 'care should be had _the good_ be not taken away with the bad, which commonly is done _when the people is the physician_.' '_Things will have_ their _first_ or _second_ agitation.' [Prima Philosophia--pith and heart of sciences: the author of this aphorism is sound and grounded.] 'If they be not tossed on the waves of _counsel_, they will be _tossed on the waves of fortune_.'

That last 'tossing' requires a second cogitation. There might have been a more direct way of expressing it; but this author prefers similes in such cases, he tells us. But here is more on the same subject. 'It were good that men in their RENOVATIONS follow the example of time itself, which, indeed, innovateth greatly, but quietly, and by degrees scarce to be perceived;' and 'Discretion in speech is more than eloquence.' These are the sentiments and opinions of that man of science, whose works we are now opening, not caring under what particular name or form we may find them. One or two of these observations do not sound at all like prescience _now_; but at the time when they were given out as precepts of direction, it required that acquaintance with the nature of things in general which is derived from a large and studious observation of particulars, to put them into a form so oracular.

But this general suggestion with regard to our books of moral philosophy, and their adaptation to the largest effect on the will and appet.i.te under the given conditions of time--conditions which involve the instruction of ma.s.ses of men, in whom _affection_ predominates-- men in whom judgment is not yet matured--men not attempered with the time and experience of ages, by means of those preservations of it which the traditions of learning make; beside this general suggestion in regard to these so potent instrumentalities in manners, he has another to make, one in which this general proposition to subst.i.tute learning for preconception in _practical matters_,--at least, as far as may be, comes out again in the form of criticism, and of a most specially significant kind. It is a point which he touches lightly here; but one which he touches again and again in other parts of this work, and one which he resumes at large in his practical ethics.

'Again, is there not a caution likewise to be given of the doctrines of moralities themselves, some kinds of them, lest they make men too _precise, arrogant, incompatible_, as Cicero saith of Cato, in _Marco Catone_: "Haec bona quae videmus divina et egregia ipsius scitote esse propria: quae nonnunquam requirimus, ea sunt omnia non a natura, sed a magistro?"'

And after glancing at the specific subject of remedial agencies which _are_ within the scope of our revision and renovation, under some other heads, concluding with that which is of all others the most compendious and summary, and again the most n.o.ble and effectual to the reducing of the mind unto virtue and good estate, he concludes this whole part, this part in which the points and outlines of the new science--that radical human science which he has dared to report deficient, come out with such masterly grasp and precision,--he concludes this _whole part_ in the words which follow,--words which it will take the author's own doctrine of interpretation to open. For this is one of those pa.s.sages which he commends to the second cogitation of the reader, and he knew if 'the times that were nearer'

were not able to read it, 'the times that were farther off' would find it clear enough.

'Therefore I do conclude this part of Moral _Knowledge_ concerning the culture and regiment of the Mind; wherein if any man, _considering the facts thereof which I have enumerated_, do judge that _my labour is_ to COLLECT INTO AN ART OR SCIENCE, that which hath been _pretermitted by others_, as matters of common sense and experience, he judgeth well.' The practised eye will detect on the surface here, some marks of that style which this author recommends in such cases: especially where such strong pre-occupations exist; already we perceive that this is one of those sentences which is addressed to the skill of the interpreter; in which, by means of a careful selection and collocation of words, two or more meanings are conveyed under one form of expression. And it may not be amiss to remember here, that this is a style, according to the author's own description of it elsewhere, in which the more involved and enigmatical pa.s.sages sometimes admit of _several_ readings, each having its own pertinence and value, according to the mental condition of the reader; and that it is a style in which even the _delicate, collateral sounds_, that are distinctly included in this art of tradition, must come in sometimes in the more critical places, in aid of the interpretation. 'But what if it be an harangue whereon his life depends?'

l.--If any man considering the parts thereof, which I have enumerated, do judge that MY LABOUR IS to _collect into an_ ART or SCIENCE that which hath been PRETER-MITTED by others, _he_ judgeth well.

2.--If any man do judge that my labour is to collect into an ART or SCIENCE that which hath been pretermitted by others AS MATTERS OF COMMON SENSE and EXPERIENCE, _he_ judgeth well.

3.--If any man _considering_ the PARTS THEREOF WHICH I HAVE ENUMERATED, do judge that my labor is to collect into an ART or SCIENCE, that which hath been pretermitted _by_ OTHERS, as matters of common sense and experience, _he_ judgeth well.

But if there be any doubt, about the more critical of these meanings, let us read on, and we shall find the criticism of this great and greatest proposition, the proposition to subst.i.tute learning for preconception, in the main department of human practice, brought out with all the emphasis and significance which becomes the close of so great a period in sciences, and not without a little flowering of that rhetoric, in which beauty is the incident, and discretion is more than eloquence.

'But as Philocrates sported with Demosthenes you may not marvel, Athenians, that _Demosthenes_ and I do differ, for _he_ drinketh water, and _I_ drink wine. And like as we read of an ancient parable of the two gates of sleep--

Sunt geminae somni portae, quarum altera fertur Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris: Altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto, Sed falsa ad coelum mittunt insomnia manes.

'So if we put on _sobriety and attention_ we shall find it a sure maxim in knowledge, _that the more pleasant liquor of wine is the more vaporous_, and the braver gate of ivory sendeth forth the falser dreams.'

CHAPTER VI.