342 BACON 



even that exhibited in the preparation of natural bodies in me- 

 chanical arts and the like, as the discovery of the heavenly 

 motions in astronomy, of harmony in music, of the letters of the 

 alphabet (still unadopted by the Chinese) in grammar; or, 

 again, in mechanical operations, the productions of Bacchus 

 and Ceres, that is, the preparation of wine and beer, the making 

 of bread, or even the luxuries of the table, distillation, and the 

 like ; if one reflect also, and consider for how long a period of 

 ages (for all the above, except distillation, are ancient) these 

 things have been brought to their present state of perfection, 

 and (as we instanced in clocks) to how few observations and 

 axioms of nature they may be referred, and how easily, and, as 

 it were, by obvious chance or contemplation, they might be 

 discovered, one would soon cease to admire and rather pity the 

 human lot, on account of its vast want and dearth of things and 

 discoveries for so many ages. Yet even the discoveries we 

 have mentioned were more ancient than philosophy and the 

 intellectual arts ; so that (to say the truth), when contemplation 

 and doctrinal science began, the discovery of useful works 

 ceased. 



But if anyone turn from the manufactories to libraries, and 

 be inclined to admire the immense variety of books offered to 

 our view, let him but examine and diligently inspect the matter 

 and contents of these books, and his astonishment will certainly 

 change its object : for when he finds no end of repetitions, and 

 how much men do and speak the same thing over again, he will 

 pass from admiration of this variety to astonishment at the pov- 

 erty and scarcity of matter, which has hitherto possessed and 

 filled men's minds. 



But if anyone should condescend to consider such sciences 

 as are deemed rather curious than sound, and take a full view 

 of the operations of the alchemists or magi, he will perhaps hes- 

 itate whether he ought rather to laugh or to weep. For the 

 alchemist cherishes eternal hope, and when his labors succeed 

 not, accuses his own mistakes, deeming, in his self-accusation, 

 that he has not properly understood the words of art or of his 

 authors ; upon which he listens to tradition and vague whispers, 

 or imagines there is some slight unsteadiness in the minute de- 

 tails of his practice, and then has recourse to an endless repe- 

 tition of experiments : and in the mean time, when, in his casual 

 experiments, he falls upon something in appearance new, or of 

 some degree of utility, he consoles himself with such an earnest, 

 and ostentatiously publishes them, keeping up his hope of the 

 final result. Nor can it be denied that the alchemists have 

 made several discoveries, and presented mankind with useful 

 inventions. But we may well apply to them the fable of the old 

 man, who bequeathed to his sons some gold buried in his gar- 



