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would have seen them sucking the aphides, and the aphides sucking the plant.

But Bacon, though he had a great fancy for making observations and experiments in every branch of natural philosophy and natural history, was remarkably unskilful in that department. His observations were slight and inaccurate, and his reasonings from them very rash. It is true we ought not to measure a man of those days by the standard of the present, when science has—partly through Bacon's means—made such advances. But he was below (in this point) what might have been attained, and was attained, in his own day. Copernicus' theory was not unknown in his day; yet he seems to have thought lightly of it. Also Gilbert the Magnetist he did not duly appreciate. And most remarkable of all, perhaps, is his error-noticed in the preface—respecting the mistletoe; a trifling matter in itself: but the casting up of a sum is a test of one's arithmetic, whether the items be farthings or pounds.

Unlike Bacon, Socrates greatly discouraged all branches of natural philosophy. According to Xenophon, he derided those who inquired concerning the motions of the heavenly bodies, the tides, the atmosphere, &c., asking whether they expected to be able to control these things ? or whether, again, they had so completely mastered all that related to human affairs, of which Man does possess the control, that they might afford to devote themselves to speculations remote from practice?

That nature can be controlled, by obeying (and only by obeying) her laws (“Naturæ non imperatur, nisi parendo,') the maxim which Bacon so earnestly dwells on, and which furnishes the proper answer—though well worthy of that earnestness,-is what all mankind—even savages have always in some degree

For he who sows his corn at the season when he has observed that fertilizing rains may be expected, and so that by the time it approaches maturity the season of sunshine may be expected, does virtually command rain and sun. And the mariner commands the winds and tides, who so times his voyage, from observation, as to be likely to meet with favourable winds and tides. And so in an infinite number of other cases.


acted on.



Divide with reason between self-love and society; and be so true

to thyself as thou be not false to others.' The difference between self-love and selfishness has been well explained by Aristotle, though he has not accounted for the use of the word dihavtia. It is clear that selfishness exists only in reference to others, and could have no place in one who lived alone on a desert island, though he might have of course every degree of self-love; for selfishness is not an excess of self-love, and consists not in an over-desire of happiness, but in placing your happiness in something which interferes with, or leaves you regardless of, that of others.' Nor are we to suppose that selfishness and want of feeling are either the same or inseparable. For, on the one hand, I have known such as have had very little feeling, but felt for others as much nearly as for themselves, and were, therefore, far from selfish ; and, on the other hand, some, of very acute feelings, feel for no one but themselves, and, indeed, are sometimes amongst the most cruel.

Under this head of the dividing between self-love and society' may be placed a distinction made by Bishop Copleston between two things which he says are occasionally confounded by Locke, as well as most other writers on education. Two things,' he remarks, 'ought to be kept perfectly distinct—viz., that mode of education which would be most beneficial, as a system, to society at large, with that which would contribute most to the advantage and prosperity of an individual. Now, the peculiar interest of the individual is not always the same, is seldom precisely the same, is even frequently at variance, with the interest of the public. And he who serves the one most faithfully always forgets, and often injures, the other. The latter is that alone which deserves the attention of a philosopher; the former-individual interest—is narrow, selfish, and mercenary. It is the mode of education which would fit for a specific employment, or contribute most to individual advantage and prosperity, on which the world are most eager to inform themselves; but the persons, who instruct them, however they may deserve the thanks and esteem of those whom they benefit, do no service to mankind. There are but so many

* See Lessons on Morals, L. xvi. $ 3. • Memoir of Bishop Copleston, p. 307,

good places in the theatre of life; and he who puts us in the way of procuring one of them does to us indeed a great favour, but none to the whole assembly.' He adds a little after, ‘A wide space is left to the discretion of the individual, where the claims of the community are either not pressing or wholly silent.'

Another point in which the advantage of the individual is quite distinct from that of the public, I have touched upon in a Lecture on the Professions,' froin which I take the liberty of adding an extract. 'It is worth remarking that there is one point wherein some branches of the Law differ from others, and agree with some professions of a totally different class. Superior ability and professional skill, in a Judge or a Conveyancer, are, if combined with integrity, a public benefit. They confer a service on certain individuals, not at the expense of any others: and the death or retirement of a man thus qualified, is a loss to the community. And the same may be said of a physician, a manufacturer, a navigator, &c., of extraordinary ability. A pleader, on the contrary, of powers far above the average, is not, as such, serviceable to the Public. He obtains wealth and credit for himself and his family ; but any special advantage accruing from his superior ability, to those who chance to be his clients, is just so much loss to those he chances to be opposed to: and which party is, on each occasion, in the right, must be regarded as an even chance. IIis death, therefore, would be no loss to the Public; only, to those particular persons who might have benefited by his superior abilities, at their opponents' expense. It is not that advocates generally, are not useful to the Public. They are even necessary. But extraordinary ability in an advocate, is an advantage only to himself and his friends. To the Public, the most desirable thing is, that pleaders should be as equally matched as possible; so that neither John Doe nor Richard Roe should have any advantage independent of the goodness of his cause.” Extraordinary


Reprinted in the Elements of Rhetoric. ? On this it has been remarked by an intelligent writer, that, when there are trco very superior pleaders in existence, the death of one of them would be a national loss. And this would hold good, if the two were always engaged on opposite sides.

But that is so far from being necessarily, or usually, the case; that, on the contrary, it is a common practice for a party who has engaged a very em

ability in an advocate may indeed raise him to great wealth, or to a seat on the bench, or in the senate; and he may use these advantages-as many illustrious examples show, greatly to the public benefit. But then, it is not as an advocate, directly, but as a rich man, as a judge, or as a senator, that he thus benefits his country.' Bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, generals, and other false

and corrupt servants, set a bias upon their bowl, of their own petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their master's great and important affairs.'

It seems not to have occurred to Bacon that the mischief he so well describes could take place except from the selfish wisdom of persons entrusted with some employment, and sacrificing the interest of their employer to their own. But in truth, the greatest amount of evils of this class—that is, the sacrifice of public good to individual profit,-has arisen from the favour claimed by, and shown to, certain classes of men, in no official situation, who have persuaded the nation (and, doubtless, sometimes themselves also), that their own interest was that of the State. Both the Spaniards and the English prohibited their colonies from trading with any but the mother country; and also from manufacturing for themselves; though the colonists were fellow-citizens, and were virtually taxed for the profit, not of the State, but of certain manufacturers and merchants. For, if they had found the goods produced in the mother-country to be cheaper and better than they could make for themselves, or buy elsewhere, they would have supplied themselves with these of their own accord, without need of prohibiting laws; but whenever this was not the case—that is, whenever there was any occasion for such a law,—it is plain they were paying an extra price, or buying inferior articles, for the profit of the manufacturers at home. Yet this never seemed to strike even the Americans themselves, or their advocates, at the time when the revolt broke out. It was only avowed taxation for the benefit of the government at home (which had laid out something for them) that they complained of.

inent barrister to plead for him, to give also to another eminent barrister a retaining-fee (it might be called a restraining-fee), without expecting him to take any part in the pleading, but merely to prevent his being engaged by the opposite party.

And this did not arise from comparative indifference to the welfare of our colonial fellow-subjects; for the like sort of policy has been long pursued at home. We imported timber of inferior quality from Canada, when better was to be had at a tenth part of the distance, lest saw-mills in Canada, and timberships engaged in that trade, should suffer a diminution of profit; though the total value of them all put together did not probably equal the annual loss sustained by the Public. And we prohibited the refining of sugar in the sugar colonies, and chose to import it in the most bulky and most perishable form, for the benefit of a few English sugar-bakers; whose total profits did not probably amount to as many shillings as the nation lost pounds.

And the land-owners maintained, till very lately, a monopoly against the bread-consumers, which amounted virtually to a tax on every loaf, for the sake of keeping up rents.

‘Other selfishness,' says Mr. Senior, in his Lectures on Political Economy, 'may be as intense, but none is so unblushing, because none so much tolerated, as that of a monopolist claiming a vested interest in a public injury.' But, doubtless, many of these claimants persuaded themselves, as well as the nation, that they were promoting the public good.

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