BACON'S IDOLS: A COMMENTARY. 795 



mon world. For this we need the widest and most generous cul- 

 ture the culture that is to be found in books, in travel, in inter- 

 course with men of all classes and every shade of opinion. Left 

 to ourselves we only too sedulously cultivate our own insularity; 

 we mingle simply with the people who agree with us, belong to our 

 own caste, and share our own prejudices; we read only the papers 

 of our own party, the literature of our own sect; we allow our own 

 special interests in life to absorb our energies, color all our thoughts, 

 and narrow our horizon. In this way the Phantoms of the Cave 

 secure daily and yearly more despotic sway over our minds. Self- 

 detachment, disinterestedness, the power of provisional sympathy 

 with alien modes of thought and feeling, must be our ideal. " Let 

 every student of Nature," says Bacon, " take this as a rule, that 

 whatever his mind seizes and dwells on with particular satisfaction 

 is to be held in suspicion, and that so much the more care is to be 

 taken in dealing with such questions to keep the understanding 

 even and clear." A hard saying, truly, yet one that must be laid 

 well to heart. 



While the Idols of the Tribe, then, are common human frailties 

 in thought, and the Idols of the Cave the perturbations resulting 

 from individual idiosyncrasies, there are other Idols u formed by 

 the intercourse and association of men with each other," which 

 Bacon calls " Idols of the Market Place, on account of the commerce 

 and consort of men there." By reason of its manifold and neces- 

 sary imperfections its looseness, variability, ambiguity, and inade- 

 quacy the language we are forced to employ for the embodiment 

 and interchange of ideas plays ceaseless havoc with our thought, not 

 only introducing confusion and misconception into discussion, but 

 often, " like the arrows from a Tartar bow," reacting seriously upon 

 our minds. A large part of the vocabulary to which we must per- 

 force have recourse, even when dealing with the most abstruse and 

 delicate subjects, is made up of words taken over from vulgar usage- 

 and pressed into higher service; they carry with them long trains 

 of vague connotations and suggestions; the superstitions of the past 

 are often imbedded in them; no one can ever be absolutely certain 

 of their intellectual values. While, therefore, they may do well 

 enough for the rough needs of daily life, they prove sadly defective 

 when required for careful and exact reasoning. And even with 

 that small and comparatively insignificant portion of our language 

 which is not inherited from popular use, but fabricated by philoso- 

 phers themselves, the case is not much better. Every word, no 

 matter how cautiously employed, inevitably takes something of the 

 tone and color of the particular mind through which it passes, and 

 when put into circulation fluctuates in significance, meaning now a 



