Francis Bacon

First published Tue Dec 2, 2025

[Editor’s Note: The following new entry by Markku Peltonen replaces the former entry on this topic by the previous author.]

Francis Bacon (1561–1626) was one of the most important philosophers of the early modern period. He was a truly protean figure—a lawyer by training and profession who advocated law reform for over thirty years; a politician and statesman who sat in parliament from the age of twenty until the age of sixty; a popular essayist and historian whose Essays were printed more than twenty times and The Historie of the Raigne of King Henrie the Seuenth (1622) at least six times in the seventeenth century. But before everything else, Bacon was a philosopher who had a profound impact on the subsequent development of philosophy. The main endeavor of his philosophical pursuits was creating a colossal program for renewing all knowledge, especially natural philosophy. Bacon called this program “Instauratio magna” (“Great Instauration”). It included a completely new aim for natural philosophy and sciences. All knowledge, rather than being only speculative and contemplative, should also be operative and beneficial to humankind. Bacon is remembered for insisting that human knowledge and power are closely connected. Another central aspect of his program for renewing all learning and knowledge was the creation of a new organon or method, often called eliminative induction, for studying nature. Bacon allocated an important role in this new organon to natural history, and his understanding of natural history, its content and role, was novel. His program also included the idea that knowledge and learning should be an institutional effort, that learning could only be advanced by collaboration.

1. Life in Philosophy, Politics and Law

Francis Bacon was born on 22 January 1561 at York House in the Strand, London, the second son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper, and his second wife, Anne, daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke. Bacon received his early education at home. On 5 April 1573 (when he had just turned twelve), he went, together with his elder brother Anthony, up to Trinity College, Cambridge, where they were tutored by the master, Dr John Whitgift, the future archbishop of Canterbury. Bacon stayed in Cambridge until December 1575. Although he followed a largely medieval curriculum, humanism had brought about an emphasis on moral philosophy, rhetoric and history, and thus on practical problems rather than logical subtlety.

Bacon was admitted at Gray’s Inn in 1576 but went in September 1576 to France to accompany the ambassador, Sir Amias Paulet. He stayed in France for two and a half years, mostly performing diplomatic tasks but also studying civil law, the legal system rooted in Roman law. Upon the news of his father’s death, he returned to London in the spring of 1579 and resumed his studies in Gray’s Inn. He made rapid progress, was admitted to the bar in June 1582, became a bencher in 1586, was elected as a reader in 1587 and delivered his first lectures in 1588.

Meanwhile, Bacon had embarked on a public career and was elected to parliament in January 1581. Henceforth, he sat in every parliament until 1621. In the 1580s and early 1590s, he was employed to investigate English Catholics and supported the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots, in the 1586–7 parliament. Around 1589, Bacon wrote “An Advertisement Touching the Controversies of the Church of England”, which was widely circulated. He criticized both the puritans and the bishops, reminding the former that, although “in Civill states, a republique is a better policy than a kingdome”, hierarchy was more suitable to the church than “the parity and equallity”. As to the bishops, they were the “principall causes … of scismes & divisions” (OFB I: 177, 169).

From the early 1590s come the first indications of Bacon’s hitherto invisible philosophical interests. In a famous letter to Lord Burghley in 1591, he announced that “I have as vast contemplative ends, as I have moderate civil ends” and that “I have taken all knowledge to be my province”. He mentioned his plans to reform knowledge and to “bring in industrious observations” and “profitable inventions” (SEH VIII: 109). In a writing from the same time, he even called knowledge “the worthiest power” (OFB I: 247, 262).

During the 1590s Bacon became close to Robert Devereux, second earl of Essex, who employed him in intellectual and literary pursuits and who campaigned on his behalf for a government office. This campaign came to nothing because of Bacon’s notorious speech in the 1593 parliament against the government’s subsidy bill. However, Queen Elizabeth made him one of her learned counsels in July 1594, and he was employed in several legal cases. In February 1597, Bacon published his first edition of the Essayes, together with Religious Meditations and Places of Perswasion and Disswasion. He also devoted time to the idea of law reform. When Essex, having fallen from power, made his forlorn attempt at a rebellion, the queen used Bacon as a prosecutor in the subsequent trial and called upon him to write its official account.

In the spring of 1603, James VI of Scotland succeeded Elizabeth I to the English throne as James I, and Bacon made a determined effort to gain the king’s favor. He was knighted in July 1603 and published a tract on the pacification of the church and another on the union of England and Scotland in 1603. He promoted the king’s plan for the union of the two kingdoms, both within and without parliament. This paid off, and he was appointed solicitor-general in June 1607. A year before, in May 1606, Bacon married Alice Barnham (1592–1650). He was forty-five, she was barely fourteen.

During these early years of the new reign, Bacon also developed his philosophical projects. In October 1605, he published The Twoo Bookes of Francis Bacon: Of the Proficience and Advancement of Learning, Divine and Humane. Whereas book one offered a powerful defense and eulogy of learning, book two surveyed the state of human knowledge and especially its deficiencies. At the same time, Bacon wrote numerous other philosophical writings, which, though they were not published, demonstrate that his great philosophical program was taking shape. The term “Instauratio magna” appeared for the first time (ca. 1602–3). In these writings, Bacon began to conceive his philosophical plan as consisting of six parts, aimed at developing his novel methodology, providing his first account of his famous doctrine of idols, and emphasizing the centrality of natural and experimental history to the new natural philosophy. He noted in a letter of 1609 that he was “slowly” writing “a just and perfect volume of philosophy” (SEH XI: 141). In addition to these works, Bacon published De sapientia veterum, a collection of ancient myths and his interpretations of them, also in 1609.

During the 1610s, Bacon was increasingly busy with legal and political duties. This was reflected in his rising position. He was appointed attorney-general in October 1613, sworn a privy councilor in June 1616, appointed lord keeper in March 1617, elevated to lord chancellor in January 1618 and in the following July created Baron Verulam. A powerful statesman and the most eminent lawyer in the country, Bacon was clearly at the pinnacle of his political and legal career. In January 1621, he celebrated his sixtieth birthday and was created Viscount of St Alban. Alas, it did not last long. In the spring of 1621, parliament impeached Bacon for taking bribes, and rather than defending himself, he confessed. He was a victim of a political campaign against the king’s chief favorite, the marquess (later duke) of Buckingham. Bacon was briefly imprisoned in the Tower.

Despite his growing legal and political work, Bacon managed to keep up his intellectual pursuits during the 1610s. He published the second, enlarged edition of the Essaies at the end of 1612. He had also worked on his natural philosophical project, and in October 1620 the volume that guaranteed Bacon’s rightful place in the history of philosophy came out—the Instauratio magna. The volume consists of the preface to the entire Instauratio magna, the “Plan” of the Instauratio magna, two books of the Novum organum, “A Preparative for a Natural and Experimental History” and “Catalogue of Particular History”. In this volume, Bacon was participating in contemporary European philosophy. He sent three copies to the English diplomat in Vienna Henry Wotton, who, acknowledging their receipt in December 1620, promised Bacon to present the famous astronomer Johannes Kepler with a copy (Jardine 2000: ix–x).

The impeachment forced Bacon to retire. Although he continually entertained hopes of a political comeback, he devoted the rest of his life to literary and philosophical pursuits. He published The Historie of the Raigne of King Henry the Seventh in March 1622, returned to his plans for a law reform and brought out the third edition of The Essayes in April 1625. Nevertheless, Bacon devoted most of his time to natural philosophy, publishing in November 1622 the first installment of his natural history project—Historia naturalis et experimentalis—containing a natural history of winds, Historia ventorum. In January 1623 his Historia vitae et mortis [History of Life and Death] came out; and in October 1623 he brought out an expanded Latin version of The Advancement of Learning, under the title De dignitate et augmentis scientiarum libri IX. Sylva sylvarum, a vast collection of natural histories in English, and Bacon’s utopia, New Atlantis, were posthumously published in 1626. Bacon died at Highgate on 9 April 1626.

2. Criticism of Earlier Philosophy

An enduring element of Bacon’s philosophical writings was his fierce criticism of his ancient and more recent predecessors. He wanted, Bacon wrote in the early 1590s, to “purge” knowledge “of two sorts of rovers”, meaning robbers or plunderers, to eliminate not only “frivolous disputations, confutations, and verbosities” of scholasticism but also “blind experiments and auricular traditions and impostures” of alchemists (SEH VIII: 109). The result had been a marriage between “vaine nocions & blinde experimentes”. It was “the vniuersities of Europe” at whose door Bacon squarely placed the blame for all this (OFB I: 263–5). He often repeated this criticism (Gaukroger 2001: 39–40, 105–12; Zagorin 1998: 31–44; Anderson 1948: 91–6, 106–11, 190–216).

In The Advancement of Learning (1605), the target and style of Bacon’s criticism were different. He promised in Book One to demonstrate “the excellencie of learning and knowledge”, and especially “the Augmentation and Propagation thereof” (OFB IV: 5). This meant mounting a robust defense of learning against three types of adversaries—divines, politicians and the learned themselves (Kiernan 2000: xvii–xiv; Zagorin 1998: 59–61). Original sin and the Fall had not been caused by the aspiration to knowledge of nature but by “the proude knowledge of good and euill” (OFB IV: 6). As to politicians’ argument against learning, Bacon portrayed it as a claim that learning would “soften mens mindes” and thereby make them unsuited “for matter of gouernement and policie” (OFB IV: 9). Refuting this and arguing that learning and good government went together, Bacon alleged that “the Gouernements of Princes in minority … haue neuertheless excelled the gouernement of Princes of mature age” (OFB IV: 11). This was a daring claim to make, given that it was addressed to the 39-year-old James VI & I, who had become the king of Scotland at the age of one and had announced his coming of age when he was 12 because of the disastrous civil war and chaotic aristocratic rule of his minority.

In his criticism of learned men, Bacon once again castigated scholasticism and astrology, natural magic and alchemy. To these familiar censures, he added “delicate learning”, by which he denoted humanism, the revival of “the ancient Authors, both in Diuinitie, and in Humanitie”. It had quickly led to excessive admiration for “eloquence”. Although adroit use of rhetoric was useful “in ciuile occasions”, in philosophy, it was outright harmful (OFB IV: 21–3). In Book Two of The Advancement of Learning, Bacon further censured current institutions of learning, especially universities (Zagorin 1998: 61; Anderson 1948: 19–22). They concentrated far too much on professional training (in the faculties of theology, medicine and law) at the expense of the “Artes and Sciences at large”. Although “learning should bee referred to action”, and those higher faculties were doing that, their teaching must be grounded on “Philosophie and Vniversalitie”, which were taught in the lower faculty of philosophy. It was precisely this neglect of “these Fundamental knowledges” which “hindered the progression of learning”, Bacon argued (OFB IV: 57). Nevertheless, the greatest error of the learned themselves was “the mistaking or misplacing of the last or furthest end of knowledge”. The only true aim should be “the glorie of the Creator, and the reliefe of Mans estate” (OFB IV: 31–2).

In the Instauratio magna, Bacon repeated and elaborated on this criticism (Rees 2004: xliii, lvii–lxi). He stated at the outset that “those who have dared … to lay down the law of nature … have done terrible damage to philosophy and the sciences” (OFB XI: 53). The reproach of Aristotle and the alchemists was repeated. Bacon summarized his criticism of the Aristotelians and the alchemists with a well-known simile. Whereas the alchemists or “empirics” had been like “the ant, only to store up and use things”, the Aristotelians or “dogmatists” had been like “spiders, spin webs from their own entrails”. The proper natural philosopher should proceed in the way of “the bee”—to gather material from the flowers and then “to convert and digest it” (NO I: 95; OFB XI: 153).

“Reverence for antiquity” was a great hindrance to the progress of the sciences, Bacon maintained and declared that “our own time” was “the greater age of the world” and had “countless experiments and observations which have been built up and stockpiled” (NO I: 84; OFB XI: 133). What his age had received from the Greeks was, therefore, nothing but “the boyhood of science;” it was “productive of controversies [but] barren in works” (OFB XI: 11). The Greeks’ wisdom had been “professorial and poured forth in disputations”, which was “inimical to the investigation of the truth” (NO I: 71; OFB XI: 113). One result of this was the useless disputations of scholasticism, but Bacon also highlighted a novel, far-reaching consequence—the lack of interest in natural philosophy. In both ancient Greece and Rome, ethics and politics had dominated philosophy with the consequence that natural philosophy had merely performed “the role of a servant” (NO I: 80; OFB XI: 127).

Bacon was acutely aware of the severity of his criticism, noting that it might be objected it was “remarkably harsh that I should oust all sciences and all authors”. But he assured his readers that the mistakes had been so fundamental that there was no other way than to start from scratch (NO I: 122; OFB XI: 183–5). As he announced in a famous passage:

the only course left was to try to do everything again with better assistance, and undertake a wholesale Instauration of the sciences, arts and all human learning, raised on proper foundations. (OFB XI: 3)

The things he was proposing were nothing less than “quite new in their very kind” (OFB XI: 7).

3. Knowledge—“the worthiest power”

The central aim of all knowledge, Bacon argued throughout his career, should be the production of practical effects, the improvement of the conditions of human life (Rossi 1996: 34–7; Gaukroger 2001: 16–18, 155–9; Serjeantson 2017: 344–8). When he announced his philosophical ambitions in the early 1590s, these were Bacon’s central concerns. “The true ends of knowledge” were “industrious observations, grounded conclusions, and profitable inventions and discoveries”, he wrote. He was impelled in this, he clarified, by “philanthropia” (SEH VIII: 109). Perhaps Bacon’s best-known idea is that knowledge and power are closely linked. He noted in the early 1590s that “knowledge” was “the worthiest power”, which should produce “worthie effects & to endow the life of man with infinite new Commodities”, citing printing, artillery and the compass as examples of earlier inventions (OFB I: 247, 262; Weeks 2008, 142–3). After reviewing the current state of knowledge, Bacon drew the inescapable conclusion:

the Soueraignetie of man lyeth hidd in knowledge, wherein many things are reserued which kings with their treasures cannot buy nor with theire forces Commande. (OFB I: 265)

The powers of knowledge were mightier than those of politics.

As Bacon’s philosophical thinking progressed, these values remained at its core. The only true end of knowledge was, he asserted in 1603, “a restitution and reinvesting … of man to the sovereignty and power … which he had in the first state of creation” (SEH III: 222). The Advancement of Learning drove home the same upbeat message. The only true end of learning was its “benefite and vse”, “the reliefe of Mans estate” (OFB IV: 31–2). Again, knowledge was said to be the highest power, it even approached “to the similitude of the diuine rule” (OFB IV: 51).

In the Instauratio magna, Bacon’s conviction about the true aim of knowledge had only strengthened. The volume would explain, Bacon told his readers, how “the mind [could] exert its proper authority over the nature of things” (OFB XI: 11). The true end of knowledge was “the benefit and use of life, and that it be perfected and regulated in charity” (OFB XI: 23). Earlier generations had greatly underrated the “power” knowledge would bring about, Bacon maintained and famously declared that “human knowledge and human power come to the same thing” (NO I: 3; OFB XI: 65). The overall aim of the Novum organum was to explicate the tool by which humankind could seize and wield this power. “My object”, Bacon contended, “is to see whether I can really lay firmer foundations for human power and prestige, and to extend their bounds yet wider” (NO I: 116; OFB XI: 175). Truth and usefulness were identical. The benefits and usefulness of natural philosophy were not only its true end but also a clear indication of truth: “the discovery of fruits and works as it were guarantees and underwrites the truth of philosophies” (NO I: 73; OFB XI: 117). Indeed, “truth and utility are … the very things themselves” (NO I: 124; OFB XI: 187).

4. Instauratio magna

At the heart of Bacon’s philosophical oeuvre was his massive program for the renewal of all knowledge and learning, natural philosophy and sciences. The overall purpose of Bacon’s program was to completely replace the earlier philosophies he criticized and to demonstrate how the practical effects he was proclaiming to be its true end could be achieved—how knowledge and power could merge. The program developed greatly from Bacon’s ideas of the 1590s to his writings in the early 1620s, but many key values and aims remained. He talked about six books as early as 1607–11, which by 1612 became six parts.

Bacon often insisted that knowledge and its advancement would be impossible without hope, and the Novum organum contains a long section where he expounded on the importance of hope (NO I: 92–114; OFB XI: 149–73). Several factors were underlying the lack of hope, including contentment with little and “lack of ambition”, but mainly despair and the assumption that hope was impossible. (NO I: 71–91; OFB IX: 113–49). Bacon aimed to act as a “guide” out of such despair, to convince others that a new beginning was needed and that his great instauration was not “limitless and beyond the capacity of mere mortals” (OFB XI: 25).

In the Instauratio magna, Bacon described the six parts:

  1. The Partitions of the Sciences.
  2. Novum Organum, or Directions concerning the Interpretation of Nature.
  3. Phenomena of the Universe, or Natural and Experimental History for the building up of Philosophy.
  4. The Ladder of the Intellect.
  5. Precursors, or Anticipations of the Philosophy to Come.
  6. The Philosophy to Come, or The Active Science.

Part I was to present Bacon’s partition or classification of the sciences. It would include the current state of learning and the sciences but also explore things that have hitherto been omitted or missed. Part II was planned to offer Bacon’s new logic of induction to replace the old syllogistic logic and thus to provide the method to be adopted in the “Interpretation of Nature” or “Active Science”. Part III would consist of the collections of natural-historical data. It would establish “the foundations for the building up of philosophy”, supply “the matter for knowledge”, and thereby guarantee that the whole project would start “from the things themselves”. Bacon was familiar with earlier natural histories but confident that his was “a new kind and construction” (OFB XI: 37). Part IV was intended to provide examples of Part II in action. They would, Bacon promised, disclose the entire process of inquiry or expose to us “the whole process the mind goes through, and the seamless fabric and order of investigations in specific subjects” (OFB XI: 43). He pointed out that Part IV would contain “tables of discovery”, which would enable “anyone of moderate insight and resourcefulness” to see “intimations and specifications of many noble works” (NO I: 117; OFB XI: 177). There are a few brief texts intended for this part (Rees 2000: xx–xxi). Part V was meant to offer anticipations, which had been reached not by “the true form of interpretation” but by the ordinary use of reason (OFB XI: 45; Rees 1996a: xix). For Part V, Bacon only managed to write a preface (Rees 2000: xxi). The final Part VI was to reveal and expound “the philosophy drawn from and established on the kind of legitimate, chaste and rigorous form of investigation”. It would, in other words, bring the two goals of knowledge and power together (OFB XI: 45).

4.1 Division of the Sciences

Bacon had offered a division of the sciences in Book Two of The Advancement of Learning in 1605, but this had been written before he conceived the project as consisting of six parts. When he did so, he revised the division but only accomplished it in De augmentis scientiarum in 1623 (Kusukawa 1996; Anstey 2012; Gaukroger 2001: 18–20; Zagorin 1998: 61–8). Bacon first divided man’s understanding into three parts—memory, imagination and reason, corresponding to history, poetry and philosophy respectively. He further divided history into natural, civil, ecclesiastical and literary history, the last of which dealt with the history of learning. In philosophy, there were also three parts—divine, natural and human. Natural philosophy had theoretical and operative parts, or “natural science” and “natural prudence”. Natural science was further divided into physics and metaphysics, where physics focused on material and efficient causes and metaphysics on formal and final causes. Natural prudence had corresponding parts in mechanics and natural magic. Bacon described physics and metaphysics, together with natural history, as forming a pyramid, where natural history was the basis, physics in the middle, and metaphysics on the top.

The partitions of human philosophy were more complicated. First Bacon made a division between the knowledge of man “segregate” and “congregate”, and further distinguished in the former between the body and the mind. The knowledge concerning the body had four parts: medicine, cosmetics, athletics and voluptuary. The knowledge concerning the mind had two parts—the substance or nature of the mind and its use and its “faculties or functions”, the latter of which was further divided into logic or “the Arts intellectual” and ethics. Logic had four parts: invention, judgment, memory and elocution; ethics had two: the nature of good and the culture of the mind. Finally, there was “civil knowledge”, which was about man “congregate or in society” and which had three parts: conversation, negotiation and government.

Bacon argued that “all partitions of knowledges” should not mean erecting impassable barriers between them; they were mere “lines & veines” rather than “separations” so that “the continuance and entirenes of knowledge be preserued” (OFB IV: 93). This was in line with his concept of “PHILOSOPHIA PRIMA” or “vniversal Science” (OFB IV: 76), which examined “all such axioms as are not peculiar to any of the particular sciences but belong to several of them in common” (SEH IV: 337). Despite the unity of all branches of knowledge, there are noticeable differences between natural and human philosophy in his partitions of knowledge. Natural philosophy was neatly divided into two theoretical parts (physics and metaphysics) with the corresponding operative parts (mechanics and magic), but human philosophy had no such structure. Moreover, whereas natural philosophy formed a pyramid, neither human philosophy in general nor its sections did so.

4.2 The New Organon

“Novum Organum, or Directions concerning the Interpretation of Nature” constituted Part II of Bacon’s great instauration. It took its title from Aristotle’s works on logic, the “Organon”, which it endeavored to replace. Bacon had repeatedly emphasized that such a new logic was at the center of his philosophical pursuits (SEH III: 235–41), and the Novum organum presented his most comprehensive account of this part. He reminded his readers that just as sailors needed the compass to cross the ocean, so in natural philosophy, “a sound policy” [certa ratione] was a necessity to “get at the more distant and hidden aspects of nature” (OFB XI: 19–21). His logic, Bacon wrote, differs from “ordinary logic” in three particular ways: “in its end, order of demonstration, and the inquiry’s starting point” (OFB XI: 29). Bacon identified four faults his new logic intended to rectify: the deceitfulness of senses, the unsoundness of concepts, the poverty of induction and most importantly, that “the means of discovering and testing” was “the very mother of error” (NO I: 69; OFB XI: 111). Given that the current “route” was “altogether wrong and impassable”, what was needed, Bacon declared, was “a route running direct from the sense itself”—the new organon (NO I: 82; OFB XI: 129). The aim of the novel road was “not the discovery of arguments but of arts”, to acquire “certain and ostensive knowledge” and thus “to conquer nature in operation” (OFB XI: 29, 59).

The first thing to do was to remedy the senses’ defectiveness and deceitfulness. One way of doing this was by experiments and instruments. Experiments should be devised and applied for a specific question so that “the sense judges only the experiment whereas the experiment judges the thing” (OFB XI: 35). Furthermore, Bacon developed his famous doctrine of “idols” as part of his true induction to remedy the deceitfulness of the senses (Rees 2004: li–lvii; Urbach 1987: 83–106; Gaukroger 2001: 83–106, 123–7; Zagorin 1998: 66–8, 82–6).

There were no less than four such idols. The first, “Idols of the Tribe”, was founded in “human nature”. It was misleading to assume that the senses mirrored the world accurately. On the contrary, they were like an enchanted glass and distorted objects (NO I: 41, 45–52; OFB XI: 79–81, 83–9). The second type Bacon named “Idols of the Cave”. These were the illusions of the individual man. Everyone was living as it were in their cave, and their education and circumstances affected how they perceived things. This became highly problematic when individuals brought their context to bear on “philosophy and general reflection” (NO I: 42, 53–8; OFB XI: 81, 89–93).

Whereas the two first idols were inherent in human nature, the two last ones were ultimately social in character. The third, “Idols of the Market”, took its name, as Bacon noted, “from the mutual agreement and association of the human race” and was the greatest nuisance. It was an illusion imposed by words that men used to describe reality. It was a common mistake to assume that reason controlled words although the opposite was true. Words were applied “according to the capacity of ordinary people”, and their use made it impossible to describe nature accurately (NO I: 43, 59–60; OFB XI: 81, 93–5). “Idols of the Theatre”, the fourth illusion, consisted of “the dogmas of philosophers and misguided laws of demonstrations”. Bacon identified three detrimental philosophies—Aristotelianism, empiricism and superstition (NO I: 44, 61–7; OFB XI: 81–3, 95–109).

In his account of “our method” [nostra ratio], Bacon underlined, on the one hand, the easiness of describing it but, on the other, the difficulty of performing it. He compared it to a machine that should be in control. The first rule was that the mind should be strictly regulated throughout: “from the very outset to stop the mind being left to itself but to keep it under control, and make the matter run like machines” (OFB XI: 53, 55, translation modified).

The aim of Bacon’s induction was, just like that of the old syllogism, to produce demonstrable knowledge. The basic problem with the syllogism was that axioms were its starting point; it flew, as Bacon put it, “from the sense and particulars to axioms of the highest generality” (NO I: 19; OFB XI: 71). Induction, by contrast, was “to educe axioms successively and step by step, and not to reach the most general ones until last” (OFB XI: 31). Bacon dismissed induction by enumeration as “a childish thing” and argued that “what the sciences require is a form of induction which will unbind experience and separate it out, and reach necessary conclusions by proper exclusions and rejections” (OFB XI: 33). Hence, Bacon’s induction is often called an eliminative induction (Gaukroger 2001: 138–55; Zagorin 1998: 97–103; Rees 2004: lxxii–lxxvii).

The adoption of Baconian induction required the compilation of three kinds of tables. The first was a table of presence: “for a given nature, we must submit to the tribunal of the intellect all known instances” of that nature (NO II: 11; OFB XI: 217). The second was a table of absence, which presents things when the studied nature would be expected but was, in fact, absent (NO II: 12; OFB XI: 221; Malherbe 1996, 91). The third table was called “the Table of Degrees or Comparative Table” (NO II: 13; OFB XI: 237), in which the instance of the investigated nature exists to a greater or lesser degree. Bacon’s example was the nature of heat. Whereas the first table included the sun’s rays as an instance of heat, the second table included the moon’s rays as a negative instance. Therefore, light could be excluded as a possible form of heat. The idea of the third table was the following: given that “the form of a thing is the very thing itself”, it followed that “the true form” must decrease “when the nature itself diminishes” (NO II: 13; OFB XI: 237).

Bacon summarized the procedure as follows:

the first job of true Induction is to Reject or Exclude individual natures which we cannot find in any instance where the nature under investigation is present, but can find in any instance where the given nature is absent, or find growing in any instance when the given nature wanes, or waning when the given nature grows. Then, once we have performed Rejection and Exclusion in the right ways, the residue left … will be a form affirmative, solid, and both true and well defined. (NO II: 16; OFB XI: 255)

The process of exclusion was the foundation of Bacon’s induction. His natural philosophy had a pyramidic shape—the progress from natural history to physics to metaphysics meant a development towards ever higher axioms. The same process of induction should be applied to every stage. Knowledge starts from experience, ascends to lower and middle axioms (physics) and then rises to more general ones until it reaches “axioms of the highest generality”, the knowledge of forms (metaphysics) (NO I: 19; OFB XI: 71; Malherbe 1996: 76).

Bacon devoted much of Book 2 of the Novum organum to what he called “prerogative instances”. There were no less than twenty-seven such instances. They would support the process from preliminary findings to the actual forms by providing experimental plans or structures. They would direct the investigation in the right direction, and some of them have been seen as “forerunners of later standard scientific procedures” (Jardine 2000: xxi–xxv; Rees 2004: lxxv–lxxxix). Bacon used them in his natural histories, especially in the Historia densi et rari (Jalobeanu 2020).

Physics and metaphysics were the theoretical parts of natural philosophy, and mechanics and magic were their corresponding operative parts. What was their role in this process? Every time axioms were reached, it was time to employ the operative part. As Sophie Weeks has pointed out, “every ascent of the mind to an axiom” was followed by “a descent via experimentation to things, thereby guaranteeing the continual union of things (res) and mind (mens)” (Weeks 2008: 173–4). The aim was, Bacon wrote, to extract “from works and experiments causes and axioms, and in turn from causes and axioms new works and experiments” (NO I: 117; OFB XI: 175). Bacon presented the descent from lower and middle axioms as “light-bearing experiments” [experimenta lucifera]. Their role was primarily to refine axioms, and “truth is discovered not through discursive argumentation but through operative (experimental) engagement with nature” (Weeks 2008: 179). Once the forms of nature have been reached, “fruit-bearing experiments” [experimenta fructifera] could be achieved. This is what Bacon meant when he said that truth and utility are the same thing: “For the discovery of fruits and works as it were guarantees and underwrites the truth of philosophies” (NO I: 73; OFB XI: 117).

4.3 Natural Histories

Part III of the Instauratio magna, natural history, was intended to form the basis of the entire project. Bacon considered natural history of immense importance; it was a sine qua non for the Instauratio magna. Even if all humankind dedicated itself to philosophy and the world were full of universities, he asserted, there would be no “headway in philosophy and the sciences … without a natural and experimental history” of the kind that he proposed (OFB XI: 453). In Historia naturalis et experimentalis (1622), he set even greater store by natural history and declared:

my Organum, even if it were finished, would not carry forward the Instauration of the Sciences much without Natural History, whereas Natural History without the Organum would advance it not a little. (OFB XII: 13)

Bacon not only wrote about natural history but also composed natural histories, and earlier scholars focused on the former and ignored the latter as hasty collections of disparate facts and speculations. Recent scholarship has focused more on Bacon’s actual natural histories and has established their significance for understanding his substantive natural philosophy and attempts to put his methodological injunctions into practice.

Bacon’s criticism of earlier natural histories was severe. His natural histories, he asserted, would be “quite different”, they would be of a new kind with a new organization (NO II: 27, I, 98; OFB XI: 295, 157). Whereas the conventional natural history was used “for the sake of knowledge of actual the things”, his would be “the primary matter of philosophy, and the basic stuff and raw material of true induction” (OFB XI: 455), and he gave detailed instructions of how to compile such histories. Historians have largely accepted Bacon’s claim for novelty (Jalobeanu 2012a).

Earlier natural histories had been dominated by classification, description and conservation of traditional knowledge, all of which were discarded by Bacon. For him, natural histories were functional, providing material for new natural philosophy. He divided natural history into “History of Generations, of Pretergenerations [marvels] and of Arts” (OFB XI: 455). The first type examined nature in its ordinary course, the second explored the “IRREGVLARS of NATVRE” (OFB IV: 63), and the third he called “Mechanicall and Experimental” history (OFB XI: 455). Natural histories should not only be about bodies, substances and their characteristics but also about qualities, virtues and motions, including “Dense, Rare, Hot, Cold, Consistent, Fluid, Heavy, Light, and quite a few others” (OFB XI: 39; Anstey 2012: 24), and Bacon’s natural histories were not simple descriptions of empirical data but mainly about qualities and virtues (Jalobeanu 2012a). Moreover, they overlapped with natural philosophy and were “doing theoretical work themselves” (Stewart 2012: 88).

When Bacon listed the three areas of natural history—generations, prodigies and arts, by far the most important of these was the last one; it was “the most radical and fundamental towards natural philosophy” (SEH IV: 297), showing “things in motion” and leading “more directly to practice” (OFB XI: 463). Since there were important analogies between nature and artifice, experiments and mechanical contrivances could disclose things that were hidden in nature (Weeks 2008: 157–9). “The nature of things”, Bacon explained, “shows itself more openly under the vexations of art than in its natural freedom” (OFB XI: 39).

Baconian natural history was thus much more than mere empirical fact-gathering; it was not only using experiments to establish facts but also to test theories. And Bacon conducted experiments to do so. He was intrigued by scientific instruments, including telescope, microscope and calendar-glass, and even by using them in combination (Rees 2004: xl–xlii). He also made “the most striking methodological innovation in his experiments”—“the introduction of a control group” (Jalobeanu 2016a: 107). In his natural histories, Bacon distinguished between “mere experimentation”, blind or unguided experimentation on the one hand, and “literate experience”, guided experimentation, on the other. Whereas the former was conducted by mere empirics, the latter was the domain of the true experimental philosopher (Jalobeanu 2016b). Including experiments in natural history indicates that, for Bacon, there was no fundamental difference between nature and art (Rees 2004: xli; Rusu 2012: 115; Weeks 2007).

4.4 Scientia Actiua

The culmination of the Instauratio magna was its sixth and final part called “The Active Science”. It formed the top of the pyramid, whose basis was natural history. It was called metaphysics, and had, ideally, acquired comprehensive knowledge of forms. Only this knowledge of forms could yield the most powerful kind of operative knowledge. Bacon maintained, throughout his life, that knowledge and power belong together, that the acquisition of true knowledge of nature would enable the production of infinite commodities and that the knowledge of forms would re-establish man’s sovereignty over nature. This raises the question of Bacon’s notion of progress; or, to put it in another way: how quickly could the knowledge of forms be gained, and would that knowledge be complete, or was progress to be interminable?

Sometimes, Bacon suggested that the whole project could be accomplished quickly. He stressed the enormity of the completion of natural histories, requiring “an army of workers”, but immediately added that, despite being “many-sided and burdensome”, it was possible to accomplish it “in my lifetime”. Furthermore, once natural histories were fully gathered, “the investigation of nature and of all the sciences will amount to but a few years’ work” (OFB XI: 453). Perhaps, then, Bacon’s notion of progress was rather limited? Elsewhere, however, he presented a different view. Salomon’s House, the scientific community of Bensalem, the society described in the New Atlantis, had been founded 1900 years ago, and it was still in full swing. The spectacular results of its research notwithstanding, its fellows continued to “raise the former discoveries by experiments into greater observations, axioms, and aphorisms” (SEH III: 165). The principal objectives remained the same: “the knowledge of Causes, and secret motions of things; and the enlarging of the bounds of Human Empire, to the effecting of all things possible” (SEH III: 156). Salomon’s House had been there for almost two millennia and was still making bold leaps in the interpretation of nature.

Bacon’s idea of progress was from this perspective continuous and indefinite. Underlying the immense power of “Active Science” was his conviction that “matter hides within its ‘fold’ [plica] the power to bring into being all potential worlds” (Weeks 2008: 145–6). Previously, this potentiality of matter remained unexploited, but gaining ever fuller knowledge of it opened endless possibilities to humanity. In 1603, Bacon mentioned immortality as one possible result of his project, and in The Advancement of Learning, he talked about “the power of Man vnto the greatest libertie, and possibilitie of workes and effects” (OFB IV: 85). By the time he published the Instauratio magna, he had upped the ante. The end, he now wrote, was such that “men in their current situation and state of mind may not be readily able to grasp” (OFB XI: 45). With his guidance, he announced, it would be possible to produce “things that have never been done before, things of the kind which … human thought [could never have] dreamed of” (NO II: 3; OFB XI: 203); he boldly predicted “bodies in an entirely new guise and as a kind of alternative universe or theatre of things” (OFB XI: 455). Given that “Active Science” could, through full knowledge of matter, bring about a different universe, it is not too much to say, as Sophie Weeks has concluded, that “the fruits of Baconian natural magic (based on knowledge of forms) will be beyond our wildest dreams” (Weeks 2008: 192).

5. Substantial Natural Philosophy

In his natural historical writings, Bacon spelled out his overall understanding of the world, from the nature of the universe to the minute reality on the Earth (this section is largely based on Rees 1996a and Rees 1996b; Gaukroger 2001: 193–212). According to Bacon, the finite universe was full of matter, which was “eternal, unchanging, and the plenipotentiary source of all things” (Weeks 2008: 145). He divided matter into two general categories—tangible (heavy) and pneumatic (weightless) matter. Whereas the central Earth consisted almost entirely of tangible matter, the celestial heavens were filled with pneumatic matter. There was a frontier zone between these two pure regions where tangible and pneumatic mixed.

Bacon distinguished between two quaternions of matter: the Sulphur and Mercury quaternions. Both tangible and pneumatic matter were also divided into two. In the Sulphur quaternion, tangible substances were subterranean Sulphur and terrestrial inflammable oily substances; pneumatic substances were terrestrial fire (sublunary) and sidereal fire (the heavenly bodies). In the Mercury quaternion the corresponding substances were subterranean mercury and terrestrial non-inflammable watery substance; air (sublunary) and ether (medium of the heavenly bodies). The heavens were divided into three regions: comets and the Moon; the planets and the Sun; and the fixed stars. What distinguished the three regions of the heavens from one another was the potency of sidereal fire. It became stronger the higher you went so that in the region of the fixed stars, it dominated the ether completely.

Sulphur
quarternion		 Salt
quarternion		 Mercury
quarternion
Tangible substances (with attached spirits) Sulphur
(subterranean)		 Salt(s)
(subterranean and in organic beings)		 Mercury
(subterranean)
Oily and oily,
inflammable substances
(terrestrial)		 Juices of animals and plants Water and “crued” non-inflammable substances
(terrestrial)
Pneumatic substances Terrestrial fire
(sublunar)		 Attached animate and inanimate spirits (intangible bodies) Air
(sublunar)
Sidereal fire (planets) Heaven of the fixed stars Ether (interplanetary medium)

To understand Bacon’s theory of matter in the terrestrial context, we need to pay attention to what have been called “intermediates”. These intermediates were combinations of members from both the Sulphur and Mercury quaternions. In so far as the heaven of the fixed stars was concerned, the intermediate was a combination of sidereal fire and ether, where the former was dominant. On the lowest, subterranean level, the intermediate were salt(s), subterranean, organic beings, combining Sulphur and Mercury.

The terrestrial phenomena of minerals, plants and animals were composed of tangible and pneumatic matter, both of which were a mixture of the sulphureous and mercurial quaternions. The tangible salts and juices of plants and animals were watery and oily, and they had pneumatic matter (spirits) attached that was airy and fiery. Both spirits and tangibles were material. There was a hierarchy amongst the terrestrial bodies, which became more complex the higher you moved on this scale; the lowest bodies were inanimate (metals and stones), the non-living plants were in the middle and the living animals (including humans) were on the top. The hierarchy was based on the organization of spirits (pneumatic matter) inside the bodies. On the lowest level, in inanimate bodies, spirits were cut off and not inflamed and kindled. In animate bodies (both plants and animals), spirits were branched into veins and were kindled and inflamed (Rusu 2018: 452). Tangible matter was responsible for the species of a body, and its function was to keep the spirit in the body. Pneumatic matter was the major source of action in nature whose motion created new individuals (Rusu 2018: 455; Jalobeanu 2018a: 469–75).

Against the fundamental Aristotelian distinction between the sub- and superlunary regions, Bacon argued that the diurnal motion was not confined to the heavens. Although the speed of this motion decreased the closer to the Earth it reached, it accounted for certain terrestrial phenomena. There was a general westward motion of the air because air, just like celestial ether, belonged to the Mercury quaternion. But Bacon also explained the cycle of the tides by the diurnal motion, which carried the seas westward, only to thrown back by the corresponding land mass.

6. Salomon’s House: Institutional Setting for Natural Philosophy

A distinctive feature of Bacon’s natural philosophical oeuvre was his conviction that he could not accomplish his colossal project on his own. He was continually searching for patronage but also emphasized the necessity of cooperation and entertained the idea of a research institute. Bacon considered no form of the state ideal for the advancement of learning; all of them had “some point of contrariety towards true knowledge”. Whereas “monarchies incline wits to profit and pleasure”, republics incline “to glory and vanity” (SEH III: 252). This did not, however, thwart him from seeking patronage. He dedicated The Advancement of Learning to the king and called his project “Opera Basilica” (OFB IV: 61). The Instauratio magna was, likewise, dedicated to the king, and Bacon now asked James to instigate “the collecting and perfecting of a true and rigorous natural and experimental history” (OFB XI: 9). No royal patronage was forthcoming, however. James was well known for his erudition, but his interests in learning were mainly directed to religious controversies (Kiernan 2000: xxxvii–lvi). He promised, upon receiving the volume, to read it and even ask questions about its arguments; but his real view of the Instauratio magna was “that yt is like the peace of God, that passeth all understanding” (Letters of John Chamberlain, II, 339). Bacon insisted on the need for patronage, so much so that he even made some effort to seek papal support for natural histories (Kiernan 2000: lv).

Another source of help could be universities, and Bacon’s criticism of universities did not prevent him from trying to obtain their aid. He sent copies of The Advancement of Learning to the chancellors and other officials of both Cambridge and Oxford, but eliciting no response, he decided to pursue help from younger scholars (Kiernan 2000: xxxi–xxxvii). Bacon also cherished hopes for international cooperation among European universities because they had “a kind of contract, fraternitie, & correspondence” (OFB IV: 60). International collaboration required, however, peace, and Bacon, in the early years of the seventeenth century, was sanguine about the prospects, writing in a famous letter in 1609:

Myself am like the miller of Huntingdon, that was wont to pray for peace amongst the willows; for while the winds blew, the wind-mills wrought, and the water-mill was less customed. So I see that controversies of religion must hinder the advancement of sciences. (SEH XI: 137–8)

Bacon also explored collaboration and its institutional form on a smaller, but no less significant scale. Already in 1591, he thought that a political position of power would enable the “commandment of more wits than of a man’s own” (SEH VIII: 109). In 1594, he argued for the founding of a perfect library, garden and laboratory (OFB I: 598–9). He returned to such ideas in his private notes in 1608, reminding himself of “laying for a place to command wytts and pennes”, hiring four scholars to compile natural histories and inviting “many to contribute and joyne”. “A college for inventors” with a library and laboratories should be founded. Funding should be available for traveling and “for experiments”; cooperation with foreign universities should be encouraged (SEH XI: 66–7).

Nothing came out of these plans. However, they received their most distinctive expression in Bacon’s New Atlantis. It is a story of a utopian society called Bensalem, whose happiness was brought about by Salomon’s House—a scientific institution “dedicated to the study of the Works and Creatures of God” (SEH III: 145). Bacon described its laboratories, instruments and “the several employments and functions whereto our fellows are assigned”. Thirty-six fellowships are mentioned by their different tasks (SEH III: 156).

Many historians have argued that the nature of Bacon’s cooperative idea was based on his experience as a statesman and that, therefore, it was elitist and hierarchical (Martin 1991: 105–40; Leary 1994: 145–50; Ash 2004: 205–7). Bacon sometimes expressed such views. In 1603, for instance, he planned to publish some of his ideas “to the world” but others should be reserved to “some fit and selected minds, and kept private” (SEH X: 287). Nevertheless, he emphasized time and again that the directions of the Instauratio magna would have the effect of levelling men’s wits. “Although the forms of Polities may be varied”, he opined in the preface to the Instauratio magna, “the state of the sciences is singular, and it has always been and will remain popular” (OFB XI: 15, translation modified). Commenting on the “tables of discovery”, he wrote that “anyone of moderate insight and resourcefulness” would see remarkable results in them (NO I: 117; OFB XI: 177). He was convinced that, once his precepts were carefully adopted and implemented, the individual’s characteristics become immaterial. “For my way of discovering sciences”, he clarified, “nearly equalizes intellects and leaves little to their brilliance, since it conducts everything through the most certain rules and demonstrations” (NO I: 122; OFB XI: 185, translation modified).

What about the structure of Salomon’s House? There was a division of labor between fellows based roughly in different stages of Bacon’s six-part system from “Merchants of Light”, who traveled to foreign countries to find out about their recent inventions, to “Interpreters of Nature”, whose task was to formulate “greater observations, axioms, and aphorisms” (SEH III: 165). Scholars have argued that this division of labor is hierarchical, but this is not necessarily the case. It was a duty roster. Nowhere did Bacon indicate that there was a hierarchy amongst the tasks different fellows were expected to undertake. Salomon’s House appears to be non-hierarchical. The fellows held “divers meetings and consults of our whole number, to consider of the former labours and collections” (SEH III: 165). This suggests that all the fellows, whatever their duty, participated in the decision-making. This emerges even more clearly from the fact that it was up to the fellows collectively to decide upon the publication of the results of their inventions. As Bacon’s narrator explained:

We have consultations, which of the inventions and experiences which we have discovered shall be published, and which not: and take all an oath of secrecy, for concealing of those which we think fit to keep secret: though some of those we do reveal sometimes to the State, and some not. (SEH III: 165)

The fellows bore the awesome responsibility of their tall order collectively.

7. Moral and Political Philosophy

The Instauratio magna pertained to all human knowledge, including moral and civil philosophy. The position of moral and civil philosophy in Bacon’s colossal project was, however, awkward, and their relationship with natural philosophy was strained.

Bacon emphasized, as we have seen, that all sciences shared a stem, philosophia prima, with common axioms. In the Novum organum, he asked “whether I speak of natural philosophy alone, or whether I also speak of perfecting the other sciences—logic, ethics and politics”. He immediately provided the answer: “I do indeed mean it of all the things just mentioned” (NO I: 127; OFB XI: 191). Moreover, natural history formed the basis of natural philosophy, and Bacon mentioned similar histories for human philosophy. In the Novum organum, he promised that there would be a “history and tables of discovery concerning anger, fear, shame and so on, and also ones to do with examples of civil business” as well as about “the mental motions of memory, composition and division, judgment, and the rest” (NO I: 127; OFB XI: 191). Although in “A Preparative to a Natural and Experimental History”, he discussed natural history alone, in the ensuing catalog of particular histories, he had an extensive list of the histories of humankind. These included several medical histories and such specific histories as “History of the feelings”, “History of intellectual faculties” and “History of military matters” (OFB XI: 479–83). These, if completed, would have formed the foundation of human philosophy just as natural histories were to form that of natural philosophy (Peltonen 1996a: 293).

This is clear enough, but several issues complicate it. To begin with, “surely affairs of state differ greatly from the arts”, Bacon wrote. The upshot was that changes in politics, unlike in natural philosophy, were always highly problematic. In political matters, “even change for the better brings fears of disorder, since civil government rests not on demonstration but on authority, consent, reputation and opinion” (NO I: 90; OFB XI: 147). More importantly, in numerous writings, Bacon suggested that moral and civil philosophy were guided by different methods than natural philosophy. In around 1607, he criticized the syllogism and praised induction but noted that the syllogism was well suited to “subjects which are based upon opinion like ethics and politics” (Farrington 1964: 89; SEH III: 607). He repeated the same message in the Instauratio magna, writing that “the dialectic in current use” was “very properly applied to civil questions and the arts which rest on conversation and opinion” (OFB XI: 19). In fact, Bacon went so far as to claim that “the philosophy we are introducing will be quite useless” for “civil life” [vitae ciuilis] (OFB XI: 56).

There is also a curious discrepancy between Bacon’s optimism over the enormous benefits natural philosophy would bring about and his view of civil knowledge. Whereas the former would provide “a different universe of things”—things people could not even comprehend—the latter held no such promises. Nor did Bacon take the potential societal benefits of natural philosophy into account in his civil knowledge. The only glimpse we have of these benefits can be found in the New Atlantis. Although he described neither the political arrangements nor the social life of Bensalem in any detail, there are some interesting clues in the story. The island community and its inhabitants are repeatedly described as “happy;” the people were “full of piety and humanity”, and the place appeared to the visitors as “this happy and holy ground” (SEH III: 134, 136). When one of the fathers of Salomon’s House came to the city, “the street was wonderfully well kept”, and the people stood silently in an orderly fashion. Even “the windows likewise were not crowded, but every one stood in them as if they had been placed” (SEH III: 155). Underlying this happiness and docility were no doubt the benefits Salomon’s House had provided. Indeed, when the visitors wondered about the secrecy of the island, they were told that it was “a land of magicians”. We should remember that the operative part of metaphysics in the uppermost echelon of the Baconian pyramid was magic. The visitors reacted exactly as Bacon had predicted in the Novum organum that people would respond to the inventions of “Active Science”. They could neither grasp nor even dream of them and agreed that “there was something supernatural in this island”. But for them, it was “angelical” rather “than magical” (SEH III: 140).

When Bacon examined moral and civil knowledge in both The Advancement of Learning and De augmentis scientiarum, such spectacular societal results of natural philosophy were nowhere to be seen. Although “happiness” was listed in De augmentis scientiarum as one of the areas of civil knowledge, it had been “excellently handled” by earlier philosophers (SEH V: 79), and Bacon had nothing to add to it. The far-reaching effects of natural philosophy upon human life had no bearing on moral and civil knowledge. The themes Bacon explored in these disciplines were conventional topics in Renaissance moral and political philosophy although his treatment of them was unconventional. Perhaps the most obvious departure from the traditional view was his clear separation of moral philosophy from civil philosophy, and his establishment of civil knowledge as “an entire doctrine by itself” (SEH IV: 405). Moral philosophy was concerned with “Internall goodnesse: But ciuile knowledge requireth onelye an Externall goodnesse: for that as to societye sufficeth” (OFB IV: 156).

Natural philosophy contained both theoretical (physics and metaphysics) and operative parts (mechanics and magic). In moral knowledge, there was a comparable separation between the “PLATFORME of GOOD” and the “CVLTVRE OF THE MIND”. The first described the nature of good, the second was intended to prescribe rules how to attain it (OFB IV: 135). The nature of good was again divided into two. Good could be “a Totall or substantiue in it selfe”, but it could also be “a parte or Member of a greater Bodye”. The latter was to be preferred because the public was of far greater importance than the individual. This distinction prompted Bacon to defend the active life vigorously and to criticize several strands of moral philosophy, including Aristotelianism, Epicureanism, skepticism and Stoicism for defending the contemplative life (Peltonen 1995: 141–5). The culture of the mind, the second part of moral philosophy, Bacon found woefully deficient and provided some general remarks towards remedying it. These included studying different characters and tempers of human nature, as well as the impact of such factors as gender, age and the locality.

As to civil knowledge, Bacon observed in The Advancement of Learning that “in Ciuile matters there is a wisedome of discourse, and a wisedome of direction” (OFB IV: 80). These seemed to correspond to the theoretical and operative parts of natural philosophy. However, Bacon did not clarify this remark and, in fact, withdrew it from De augmentis scientiarum. There was no theoretical part of civil knowledge, no “inquisition of causes” and no clue as to what such a theoretical part of civil knowledge would have looked like (Peltonen 1996a: 294).

Civil knowledge had three parts: “Conuersation, Negotiation, and Gouernment”. The wisdom of conversation examined courtesy or civility and their importance in life. Thinking most likely of such courtesy books as Baldassare Castiglione’s The Courtier, Giovanni Della Casa’s Galateo and Stefano Guazzo’s The Ciuile Conuersation, all published in English in the latter part of the sixteenth century, Bacon observed that “this parte of Ciuile knowledge hath beene elegantlye handled”, and his account of it was very brief. Overall, he agreed with the earlier authors and underlined the importance of our outward behavior, reminding his readers that “a man maie destroy the force of his woords with his countenance”. (OFB IV: 157–8).

“The wisedome touching of Negotiation or businesse” was despised by learned men, for which reason it was a completely neglected discipline. It aimed to teach how to be successful in private and public life, and it had two parts. The former focused on advising others, and Bacon used examples from King Solomon’s proverbs, with his brief explanations. The remit of the second part, “Architecture of fortune” (OFB IV: 165), was, as the name implies, how to advance one’s career. Bacon defended this wisdom against accusations of its worthlessness, underlining that it provided “an instrument” for “higher pursuits” (SEH V: 59). His exemplary precepts offered cynical advice on how to carve out a successful career (Çakan forthcoming).

The final part of civil knowledge was the wisdom of government. In The Advancement of Learning, Bacon said this wisdom was “secret and retyred”. It was both “hard to know” but also “not fit to vtter”, and since he was writing “to a king that is maister of this Science”, he decided “to passe ouer this part in silence” (OFB IV: 179). By the time he published De augmentis scientiarum, his view had changed. He still imposed silence on himself but could not resist the temptation to use this occasion to attempt a political comeback. “Perhaps I might not be”, Bacon wrote with studied moderation, “entirely unqualified to handle such topics with some skill and profit, as being one who has had the benefit of long experience”. He backed this up by a brief assessment of his political career and issued an equivocal forecast that if he was going to write anything concerning “political knowledge, the work will perchance be either abortive or posthumous” (SEH V: 78–9). He now divided the wisdom of government into three parts: the preservation, the happiness and prosperity and the extension of the empire. The first two had been excellently treated, but Bacon made a curious claim that “nothing has been said on the last” (SEH V: 79) and provided an exemplary account of the topic.

Bacon had been preoccupied by the theme of civic greatness for almost twenty years. He had first mentioned it in an important speech about naturalization of the Scots in the House of Commons in February 1607 (Peltonen 2012: 151–5). Around this time, he also wrote an unfinished manuscript treatise on the true greatness of Britain and published an essay “Of greatnes of Kingdomes” in the 1612 edition of The Essaies. The version in De augmentis scientiarum was subsequently published in English in the final edition of The Essayes in 1625 with the title “Of the True Greatnesse of Kingdomes and Estates”.

Bacon’s claim of novelty in 1623 was curious not so much because of his earlier ventures into the topic but because in his treatise on the true greatness of Britain (ca. 1608) he had specifically emphasized that he was not the first author to explore this topic. He began that treatise, he explained,

by confuting the errors or rather correcting the excesses of certain immoderate opinions, which ascribe too much to some points of greatness which are not so essential, and by reducing these points to a true value and estimation. (SEH VII: 48)

The most likely target of Bacon’s criticism is relatively easy to identify, for in 1606 there had appeared an English translation of Giovanni Botero’s Delle cause della grandezza delle città, originally published in 1588. Botero discussed the same topic in the introduction to another work, Delle relationi universali. An edition with this introduction had been published in English for the first time in 1601 (Botero 1601: 1–10). It is worth noting that Bacon and Botero were closely entangled in the 1630 English edition of Delle relationi universali: the introductory treatise on greatness was considerably enlarged and silently incorporated parts of Bacon’s essay “Of the True Greatnesse of Kingdomes and Estates” (Botero 1630: 19–45).

It bears emphasis that when Bacon wrote about the greatness of states, he did not write about “their preservation, happiness, and all other points of well-being”, as he had already explained in his treatise on the true greatness of Britain (SEH VII: 49). These themes formed their own subdisciplines (of the wisdom of government) and, therefore, had nothing to do with civic greatness. The true estimation of civic greatness was the most difficult topic in politics, and errors in it would have the most “perilous consequences”. What did Bacon’s account of true greatness involve? He put all his emphasis on military strength, on “the valor and military disposition of the people” (SEH VII: 49). “Above all”, he declared, “for empire and greatness, it is of most importance that a nation profess arms as their principal honour, study, and occupation” (SEH V: 84). True greatness was about military expansion. Bacon repeated this in all of his writings on the topic and stressed that all other aspects were subject to it. He also listed “the commandment of the sea” as an important element of true greatness (SEH V: 86; VI: 97–98; VII: 49), which has prompted many scholars to assume that it was an Atlantic empire that Bacon chiefly had in mind. However, it has recently been persuasively argued that more daringly, he was mainly thinking about a continental European empire, starting from the Netherlands (Serjeantson 2024).

8. Natural Philosophy, Religion and Law

Scholars have long debated the relationships in Bacon’s oeuvre between natural philosophy on the one hand and religion and law, on the other. Bacon was a lawyer by training and profession and made a dazzling career in law. He also had a life-long interest in reforming the law. Numerous scholars have suggested that Bacon’s legal and philosophical thought were closely connected (Shapiro 1983: 168–9). More specifically, it has been argued that his legal education and practice played a significant role in his thinking about natural philosophy. As one scholar has put it: “Bacon’s philosophy applied to nature the same model his jurisprudence applied to the state” (Wheeler 1983: 100).

It is especially Bacon’s ideas about natural philosophers interrogating nature, even torturing it, that have been linked to his legal thinking and practice. Although this link has been thought to be fostered by his extensive experience in English common law, it has recently been shown that it was, in fact, his considerable knowledge of, and interest in, civil law that helped to shape some key aspects of his natural philosophy. This is most obvious in his choice of referring to the investigation of nature as an “interpretation of nature”. As Richard Serjeantson has demonstrated, “the idea that nature might be ‘interpreted’ was alien to the mental world of the late Renaissance—alien, that is, until Bacon proposed it”. This choice of terminology was derived from civil law tradition (Serjeantson 2014).

Historians have also debated the relationship between religion and Bacon’s natural philosophy. Bacon frequently used religious imagery in his philosophical writings. He drew a comparison between religion and natural philosophy and pointed out that, just as in religion, “our faith” is shown “by works”, so natural philosophy should be judged “by its fruits and, if it be barren, let us regard it as empty” (NO I: 73; OFB XI: 117–19). Not only did he draw close parallels between religion and natural philosophy, but he also defiantly considered them to cooperate in the repair of the Fall. Religion and faith could restore the “state of innocence”, and “the arts and sciences” could restore man’s “command over created things” (NO II: 52; OFB XI: 447).

Some scholars have insisted that Bacon’s use of religious language and images in his natural philosophical writings was a mere camouflage for his secularism and irreligiosity (White 1968; Weinberger 1985). “Bacon’s real attitude toward Christianity was a blend of scepticism, hostility, and indifference”, one interpreter has claimed (Paterson 1987: 422).

Those who have made the opposite case have argued that we should take seriously the pervasive religious imagery in Bacon’s philosophical writings centering around salvation and deliverance. The term “instauration” entailed, among other things, the restoration of humanity to its prelapsarian state. Bacon’s whole project of reforming natural philosophy was, these scholars have insisted,

drawn from the Judaeo-Christian scriptures, particularly the Genesis account of the Creation and the Fall; from [the] apocalyptic expectation of renewal in the Old Testament; and from soteriological themes of the New Testament. (McKnight 2006: 3)

It has also been suggested that, early on, Bacon moved away from the Puritan background of his mother and embraced High-Church Anglican conformism. Lancelot Andrewes (1555–1626), a conformist scholar and bishop, and Tobie Matthew (1577–1655), a Catholic, not only were Bacon’s close friends but had a considerable impact on his religion and, thus, on his natural philosophy (Matthews 2008).

Whatever the merits of these opposite positions, two things about the relationship between Bacon’s natural philosophy and religion are widely accepted. First, he regarded “the study of nature as a truly religious activity” (Gascoigne 2010: 215). “Natural philosophy, after the Word of God”, Bacon asserted in the Novum organum, “is the best medicine for superstition and most highly recommended food for faith” (NO I: 89; OFB XI: 145). Second, he wanted to keep the study of nature and religion strictly separated. Each would have a truly harmful effect on the other (Gascoigne 2010: 216–18). Natural philosophy, moreover, required peace to progress, but religious conflicts could easily escalate into wars. Therefore, “controversies of religion must hinder the advancement of sciences” (SEH XI: 137–8).

9. Bacon’s Legacy

Bacon’s philosophical legacy was large and enduring. Soon after he published his Latin philosophical works in the early 1620s, they were widely read and commented on in continental Europe. His first readers in the Netherlands were Constantijn Huygens (1596–1687), who already in 1621 was perusing the Instauratio magna, and Isaac Beeckman (1588–1637), who wrote extensive notes on Bacon’s philosophy in the 1620s (Hotson 2020: 73; Rees 2004: xxiii). The Instauratio magna was taught, for instance, in Bremen in the late-1620s (Hotson 2020: 165–6). In France, Pierre Gassendi (1592–1655) and Marin Mersenne (1588–1648) were particularly keen but critical readers, and Bacon’s texts were also explored by René Descartes (1596–1650) and many others. They acknowledged many of his ideas and even conducted experiments along the Baconian line but still preferred a more rationalist approach (Pérez-Ramos 1996: 312–14; Buccolini 2014; Jalobeanu 2014). The Instauratio magna traveled quickly to the Baltic, and the most detailed early criticism of it was written in the Baltic town of Elbing around 1626–7 by David Mylius, a teacher in the local Gymnasium, who defended old-style syllogistic logic against Bacon. Caspar Streso (1603–1664), a young German theologian and a convinced Baconian, quickly rushed to Bacon’s defense (Serjeantson forthcoming).

In England, one of the earliest and most important Baconians was Samuel Hartlib (c. 1600–62), a native of Elbing. He was likely responsible for Mylius’s acquaintance with the Instauratio magna and certainly behind Streso’s familiarity with Mylius’s critique of it (Serjeantson forthcoming). Hartlib, together with Jan Amos Comenius (1592–1670) and John Dury (1596–1680), promoted Baconian ideas about science and technology and their utility and benefit during the revolutionary decades of the 1640s and 1650s (Rees 2004: xxiv; Hotson 2020: 265–301; Webster 1975). The foundation of the Royal Society in 1660 marked the peak of Bacon’s reputation and the “victory of the Baconian project of collaboration, utility, and progress in natural inquiries” (Pérez-Ramos 1996: 316). Bacon’s theory of induction, along with his natural histories and experimentalism, significantly inspired the emergence of experimental philosophy and empiricism in the late seventeenth century (Anstey & Vanzo 2023). He was also invoked to justify Newton, but quickly, Newtonian science was employed to vindicate Baconianism (Rees 2004: xxvi). During the Enlightenment, Bacon’s fame was equally great: Voltaire and Rousseau, Condorcet and d’Alembert praised him and his philosophical achievements. They largely overlooked Bacon’s methodological insights and, like those in revolutionary England in the mid-seventeenth century, regarded the Baconian project as about science and technology harnessed to societal needs (Pérez-Ramos 1996: 320–1).

Many British philosophers paid homage to Bacon in the early nineteenth century while critically examining his methodological injunctions. Soon, however, his reputation as a philosopher started to wane, and he was no longer seen as having provided the methodology for subsequent natural philosophy and science (Pérez-Ramos 1996: 321–7; Rees 2004: xxvii–xxxi). Such criticism continued in the twentieth century when many epistemologists emphasized that Bacon was “a champion of what science has never been and will never be” (Rossi 1996, 43). The Frankfurt School took up the Enlightenment view of Bacon but turned it upside down, castigating him as responsible for the modern scientific domination of nature and humankind. More recent scholarship has underlined Bacon’s seminal importance in early modern philosophy. His Instauratio magna, with its emphasis on operative science, collaboration and a new method, has been given a central place in historical accounts of the birth of the new science (Rees 2004: xl–xlvi).

Bibliography

Major Works by Bacon

  • The Oxford Francis Bacon [OFB], Oxford University Press, 1996–. So far published:
  • OFB I: Early Writings, 1584–1596, Alan Stewart with Harriet Knight (eds), 2012. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780198183136.book.1
  • OFB IV: The Advancement of Learning, Michael Kiernan (ed.), 2000. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780198123484.book.1
  • OFB VI: Philosophical Studies c.1611–c.1619, Graham Rees and Michael Edwards (eds), 1996. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780198122906.book.1
  • OFB VIII: The Historie of the Raigne of King Henry the Seventh and Other Works of the 1620s, Michael Kiernan (ed.), 2012. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780199256662.book.1
  • OFB XI: The Instauratio Magna. Part II: Novum Organum and Associated Texts, Graham Rees and Maria Wakely (eds), 2004. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780199247929.book.1
  • OFB XII: The Instauratio Magna. Part III: Historia Naturalis et Experimentalis; Historia Ventorum; and Historia vitæ & Mortis, Graham Rees and Maria Wakely (eds), 2007. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780199265008.book.1
  • OFB XIII: The Instauratio Magna. Last Writings, Graham Rees (ed.), 2000. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780198184706.book.1
  • OFB XV: The Essayes or Counsels, Civill and Morall, Michael Kiernan (ed.), 2000. doi:10.1093/actrade/9780198186731.book.1
  • [NO] Novum Organum, in OFB XI, listed above. [All citations to NO give the book and the aphorism; they also include citations to OFB XI with page reference.]
  • [SEH] The Works of Francis Bacon Baron of Verulam, Viscount St. Alban, and Lord High Chancellor of England, 14 Vols. James Spedding, Robert Leslie Ellis & Douglas Denon Heath (eds), London: Longman & Co. 1857–74.
  • Francis Bacon: A Critical Edition of the Major Works, Brian Vickers (ed.), Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1996.
  • Francis Bacon: The New Organon (Cambridge Texts in the History of Philosophy), Lisa Jardine and Michael Silverthorne (eds), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

Cited Secondary Literature

  • Anderson, F. H., 1948, The Philosophy of Francis Bacon, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
  • Anstey, Peter, 2012, “Francis Bacon and the Classification of Natural History”, Early Science and Medicine, 17(1–2): 11–31. doi:10.1163/157338212X631765
  • Anstey, Peter R. and Alberto Vanzo, 2023, Experimental Philosophy and the Origins of Empiricism (Ideas in Context), Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/9781009030236
  • Ash, Eric H., 2004, Power, Knowledge, and Expertise in Elizabethan England (Johns Hopkins University Studies in Historical and Political Science, 122nd series, 2), Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.
  • Botero, Giovanni, 1601, The Worlde, or an Historicall Description of the Most Famous Kingdomes and Common-weales therein, Robert Johnson (trans.), London. Original Le relazioni universali, 4 volumes, 1591–1598.
  • –––, 1606, A Treatise Concerning the Causes of the Magnificencie and Greatnes of Cities: Deuided into Three Bookes, Robert Peterson (trans.), London: printed by T.P. for Richard Ockould and Henry Tomes. Original Delle cause della grandezza delle città, 1588,
  • –––, 1630, Relations of the Most Famous Kingdomes and Commen-wealths throuwout the World, Robert Johnson (trans.), London. [This is another edition of Botero 1601, but it is substantially different.]
  • Buccolini, Claudio, 2014, “Mersenne et la Philosophie Baconienne en France à l’époque de Descartes”, in Cassan and Anfray 2014: 115–134.
  • Cassan, Élodie and Jean-Pascal Anfray (eds), 2014, Bacon et Descartes: genèses de la modernité philosophique (La croisée des chemins), Lyon: ENS.
  • Gascoigne, John, 2010, “The Religious Thought Of Francis Bacon”, in Religion and Retributive Logic: Essays in Honour of Professor Garry W. Trompf (Numen Book Series 126), Carole Cusack and Christopher Hartney (eds), Leiden/Boston: Brill, 202–228. doi:10.1163/ej.9789004178809.iv-375.86
  • Gaukroger, Stephen, 2001, Francis Bacon and the Transformation of Early-Modern Philosophy, Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/CBO9780511612688
  • Giglioni, Guido, James A. T. Lancaster, Sorana Corneanu, and Dana Jalobeanu (eds), 2016, Francis Bacon on Motion and Power (International Archives of the History of Ideas = Archives Internationales d’histoire des Idées 218), Switzerland: Springer. doi:10.1007/978-3-319-27641-0
  • Hotson, Howard, 2020, The Reformation of Common Learning: Post-Ramist Method and the Reception of the New Philosophy, 1618–c.1670 (Oxford-Warburg Studies), Oxford/New York: Oxford University Press. doi:10.1093/oso/9780199553389.001.0001
  • Jalobeanu, Dana, 2014, “The French Reception of Francis Bacon’s Natural History in Mid Seventeenth Century”, in Cassan and Anfray 2014: 137–161.
  • Jalobeanu, Dana, 2012a, “Francis Bacon’s Natural History and the Senecan Natural Histories of Early Modern Europe”, Early Science and Medicine, 17(1–2): 197–229. doi:10.1163/157338212X631846
  • –––, 2016a, “Bacon’s Apples: A Case Study in Baconian Experimentation”, in Giglioni, Lancaster, Corneanu, and Jalobeanu 2016: 83–113. doi:10.1007/978-3-319-27641-0_4
  • –––, 2016b, “Disciplining Experience: Francis Bacon’s Experimental Series and the Art of Experimenting”, Perspectives on Science, 24(3): 324–342. doi:10.1162/POSC_a_00209
  • –––, 2018a, “Spirits Coming Alive: The Subtle Alchemy of Francis Bacon’s Sylva Sylvarum”, Early Science and Medicine, 23(5–6): 459–486. doi:10.1163/15733823-02356P04
  • –––, 2020, “Experiments in the Making: Instruments and Forms of Quantification in Francis Bacon’s Historia Densi et Rari”, Early Science and Medicine, 25(4): 360–387. doi:10.1163/15733823-00254P04
  • Jalobeanu, Dana and Grigore Vida (eds), 2020, Francis Bacon: Context and Legacy in Early Modern Europe and Beyond, Bucharest: Zeta books. This is also a special issue of Journal of Early Modern Studies, 9(2).
  • Jardine, Lisa, 2000, “Introduction”, to Francis Bacon: The New Organon, Lisa Jardine and Michael Silverthorne (eds), Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press, vii–xxviii.
  • Kiernan, Michael, 2000, “Introduction”, to OFB IV: xvii–lxxxv.
  • Kusukawa, Sachiko, 1996, “Bacon’s Classification of Knowledge”, in Peltonen 1996b: 47–74 (ch.2). doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X.003
  • Leary, John E., 1994, Francis Bacon and the Politics of Science, 1st ed, Ames, IA: Iowa State University Press.
  • Malherbe, Michel, 1996, “Bacon’s Method of Science”, in Peltonen 1996b: 75–98 (ch. 3). doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X.004
  • Martin, Julian, 1991, Francis Bacon, the State and the Reform of Natural Philosophy, Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/CBO9780511553158
  • Matthews, Steven, 2008, Theology and Science in the Thought of Francis Bacon, Aldershot/Burlington, VT: Ashgate. doi:10.4324/9781351144728
  • McKnight, Stephen A., 2006, The Religious Foundations of Francis Bacon’s Thought (Eric Voegelin Institute Series in Political Philosophy), Columbia, MO: University of Missouri Press.
  • Paterson, Timothy H., 1987, “On the Role of Christianity in the Political Philosophy of Francis Bacon”, Polity, 19(3): 419–442. doi:10.2307/3234797
  • Peltonen, Markku, 1995, Classical Humanism and Republicanism in English Political Thought, 1570-1640 (Ideas in Context 36), Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/CBO9780511598562
  • –––, 1996a, “Bacon’s Political Philosophy”, in Peltonen 1996b: 283–310 (ch. 11). doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X.012
  • ––– (ed.), 1996b, The Cambridge Companion to Bacon, Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X
  • –––, 2012, Rhetoric, Politics, and Popularity in Pre-Revolutionary England, Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/CBO9781139236010
  • Pérez-Ramos, Antonio, 1996, “Bacon’s Legacy”, in Peltonen 1996b: 311–334 (ch. 12). doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X.013
  • Res, Graham, 1996a, “Bacon’s Speculative Philosophy”, in Peltonen 1996b: 121–145 (ch. 5). doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X.006
  • –––, 1996b, “Introduction”, to OFB VI: xvii–cxvi.
  • –––, 2000, “Introduction”, to OFB XIII: xix–xcvi.
  • –––, 2004, “Introduction”, to OFB XI: xix–cxxviii.
  • Rossi, Paoli, 1996, “Bacon’s Idea of Science”, in Peltonen 1996b: 25–46 (ch. 1). doi:10.1017/CCOL052143498X.002
  • Rusu, Doina-Cristina, 2012, “Francis Bacon: Constructing Natural Histories of the Invisible”, Early Science and Medicine, 17(1–2): 112–133. doi:10.1163/157338212X631800
  • –––, 2018, “Same Spirit, Different Structure: Francis Bacon on Inanimate and Animate Matter”, Early Science and Medicine, 23(5–6): 444–458. doi:10.1163/15733823-02356P03
  • Serjeantson, Richard, 2014, “Francis Bacon and the ‘Interpretation of Nature’ in the Late Renaissance”, Isis, 105(4): 681–705. doi:10.1086/679419
  • –––, 2017, “Francis Bacon’s Valerius Terminus and the Voyage to the ‘Great Instauration’”, Journal of the History of Ideas, 78(3): 341–368. doi:10.1353/jhi.2017.0021
  • –––, 2024, “Francis Bacon, Colonisation, and the Limits of Atlanticism”, History of European Ideas, 50(7): 1155–1168. doi:10.1080/01916599.2024.2338341
  • –––, forthcoming, “The Earliest Critique of Francis Bacon’s Novum Organum and the Origins of Samuel Hartlib’s Baconianism”, Modern Intellectual History.
  • Shapiro, Barbara J., 1983, Probability and Certainty in Seventeenth-Century England: A Study of the Relationships between Natural Science, Religion, History, Law, and Literature, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
  • Stewart, Ian G., 2012, “Res, veluti per Machinas, Conficiatur: Natural History and the ‘Mechanical’ Reform of Natural Philosophy”, Early Science and Medicine, 17(1–2): 87–111. doi:10.1163/157338212X631792
  • Urbach, Peter, 1987, Francis Bacon’s Philosophy of Science: An Account and a Reappraisal, La Salle, IL: Open Court.
  • Webster, Charles, 1975, The Great Instrauration: Science, Medicine and Reform 1626–1660, London: Duckworth.
  • Weeks, Sophie, 2007, “Francis Bacon and the Art–Nature Distinction”, Ambix, 54(2): 117–145. doi:10.1179/174582307X212332
  • –––, 2008, “The Role of Mechanics in Francis Bacon’s Great Instauration”, in Philosophies of Technology: Francis Bacon and His Contemporaries (Intersections 11), Claus Zittel, Gisela Engel, Romano Nanni, and Nicole C. Karafyllis (eds), Leiden/Boston: Brill, 133–195.
  • Weinberger, Jerry, 1985, Science, Faith, and Politics: Francis Bacon and the Utopian Roots of the Modern Age: A Commentary on Bacon’s Advancement of Learning, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.
  • Wheeler, Harvey, 1983, “The Invention of Modern Empiricism: Juridical Foundations of Francis Bacon’s Philosophy of Science”, Law Library Journal, 76(1): 78–120.
  • White, Howard B., 1968, Peace among the Willows: The Political Philosophy of Francis Bacon (International Archives of the History of Ideas 24), The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff.
  • Zagorin, Perez, 1998, Francis Bacon, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Other Important Works

  • Agassi, Joseph, 2013, The Very Idea of Modern Science: Francis Bacon and Robert Boyle (Boston Studies in the Philosophy and History of Science, 298), Dordrecht/New York: Springer. doi:10.1007/978-94-007-5351-8
  • Belkind, Ori, 2021, “Bacon’s Inductive Method and Material Form”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 57–68. doi:10.5840/eps202158343
  • Çakan, Melike, forthcoming, “Common Good in Francis Bacon’s (1561–1626) ‘Human Philosophy’”, in In Search of the Common Good, Adriana Luna-Fabritius (ed.), Leiden/Boston: Brill.
  • Cassan, Élodie, 2021, “Bacon’s Novum Organum: ‘The Marriage Bed Between the Mind and the Universe’”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 38–46. doi:10.5840/eps202158341
  • Corneanu, Sorana, 2015, “Francis Bacon on Charity and the Ends of Knowledge”, in Conflicting Values of Inquiry: Ideologies of Epistemology in Early Modern Europe, Tamás Demeter, Kathryn Murphy, and Klaus Zittel (eds), Leiden: Brill, 339–364.
  • Drozdova, Daria N., 2021, “Francis Bacon, Between Myth and History”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 6–21. doi:10.5840/eps202158339
  • Dumitru, Claudia, 2020, “Francis Bacon and the Aristotelian Tradition on the Nature of Sound”, in Jalobeanu and Vida 2020: 9–25. doi:10.5840/jems20209211
  • Elliot, Natalie, 2015, “The Politics of Life Extension in Francis Bacon’s Wisdom of the Ancients”, The Review of Politics, 77(3): 351–375. doi:10.1017/S0034670515000327
  • Farrington, Benjamin, 1964, The Philosophy of Francis Bacon: An Essay on Its Development from 1603 to 1609 with New Translation of Fundamental Texts, Liverpool: Liverpool University Press.
  • Fattori, Marta (ed.), 1984, Francis Bacon: Terminologia e fortuna nel XVII secolo, Roma: Edizioni dell’Ateneo.
  • Fitzmaurice, Andrew, 2007, “The Commercial Ideology of Colonization in Jacobean England: Robert Johnson, Giovanni Botero, and the Pursuit of Greatness”, The William and Mary Quarterly, 64(4): 791–820. doi:10.2307/25096750
  • Fuller, Steve, 2021, “The Prophetic Bacon: Response to Garber”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 78–86. doi:10.5840/eps202158345
  • Garber, Daniel, 2020, “Margaret Cavendish among the Baconians”, in Jalobeanu and Vida 2020: 53–84. doi:10.5840/jems20209213
  • –––, 2021, “Bacon’s Metaphysical Method”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 22–37. doi:10.5840/eps202158340
  • Gaskell, Philip, 1979, “Books Bought by Whitgift’s Pupils in the 1570s”, Transactions of the Cambridge Bibliographical Society, 7(3): 284–293.
  • Gemelli, Benedino, 2012, “The History of Life and Death A ‘Spiritual’ History from Invisible Matter to Prolongation of Life”, Early Science and Medicine, 17(1–2): 134–157. doi:10.1163/157338212X631819
  • Guillory, John, 2009, “The Bachelor State: Philosophy and Sovereignty in Bacon’s New Atlantis”, in Politics and the Passions, 1500-1850, Victoria Kahn, Neil Saccamano, and Daniela Coli (eds), Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 49–74.
  • Hale, Kimberly Hurd, 2013, Francis Bacon’s New Atlantis in the Foundation of Modern Political Thought, Lanham, MD: Lexington Books.
  • Hartmann, Anna‐Maria, 2015, “The Strange Antiquity of Francis Bacon’s New Atlantis”, Renaissance Studies, 29(3): 375–393. doi:10.1111/rest.12084
  • Iorizzo, Dolores, 2021, “Self-Preservation and the Transformation of Nature: A Response to Garber”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 47–56. doi:10.5840/eps202158342
  • Jalobeanu, Dana, 2012b, “Idolatry, Natural History, and Spiritual Medicine: Francis Bacon and the Neo-Stoic Protestantism of the Late Sixteenth Century”, Perspectives on Science, 20(2): 207–226. doi:10.1162/POSC_a_00063
  • –––, 2015, The Art of Experimental Natural History: Francis Bacon in Context, Bucharest: Zeta Books.
  • –––, 2018b, “Rewriting Bacon’s Natural History: Pierre Amboise’s Translation of Sylva Sylvarum”, in Natural History in Early Modern France: The Poetics of an Epistemic Genre (Intersections 58), Raphaël Garrod and Paul J. Smith (eds), Leiden: Brill, 180–204. doi:10.1163/9789004375703_010
  • –––, 2021a, “Francis Bacon’s ‘Perceptive’ Instruments”, Early Science and Medicine, 25(6): 594–617. doi:10.1163/15733823-00256P04
  • –––, 2021b, “On Metaphysics and Method, Or How to Read Francis Bacon’s Novum Organum”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 98–118. doi:10.5840/eps202158347
  • –––, 2022, “Dissecting Nature ad vivum: Parts and Wholes in Francis Bacon’s Natural Philosophy”, Bruniana & Campanelliana, 28: 165–182.
  • –––, forthcoming, “Creating Life in the Laboratory: Francis Bacon’s Journey from Living Spirits to Animate Bodies”, Notes and Records: The Royal Society Journal of the History of Science, first online: 10 January 2024, rsnr.2023.0037. doi:10.1098/rsnr.2023.0037
  • Jardine, Lisa, 1974, Francis Bacon: Discovery and the Art of Discourse, London/New York: Cambridge University Press.
  • Jardine, Lisa and Alan Stewart, 1998, Hostage to Fortune: The Troubled Life of Francis Bacon, London: Victor Gollancz.
  • Kocher, Paul H., 1957, “Francis Bacon on the Science of Jurisprudence”, Journal of the History of Ideas, 18(1): 3–26. doi:10.2307/2707577
  • Langman, A. P., 2010, “The Future Now: Chance, Time and Natural Divination in the Thought of Francis Bacon”, in The Uses of the Future in Early Modern Europe, Andreas Brady and Emily Butterworth (eds), New York: Routledge, 142–158.
  • Lynch, William, 2021, “Method and Control: Naturalizing Scientific Culture in Bacon’s Novum Organum”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 69–77. doi:10.5840/eps202158344
  • Manzo, Silvia, 2012, “Francis Bacon’s Natural History and Civil History: A Comparative Survey”, Early Science and Medicine, 17(1–2): 32–61. doi:10.1163/157338212X631774
  • McCutcheon, Elizabeth, 1972, “Bacon and the Cherubim: An Iconographical Reading of the New Atlantis”, English Literary Renaissance, 2(3): 334–355. doi:10.1111/j.1475-6757.1972.tb01000.x
  • Milner, Benjamin, 1997, “Francis Bacon: The Theological Foundations of Valerius Terminus”, Journal of the History of Ideas, 58(2): 245–264. doi:10.1353/jhi.1997.0020
  • Minkov, Svetozar, 2009, “Baconian Science and the Intelligibility of Human Experience: The Case of Love”, The Review of Politics, 71(3): 389–410. doi:10.1017/S0034670509990027
  • Omodeo, Pietro Daniel, 2021, “Bacon’s Anthropocene: The Historical-Epistemological Entanglement of Power, Knowledge and Nature Reassessed”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 149–170. doi:10.5840/eps202158350
  • Osminskaya, Natalia A., 2021, “Language of Reality and Reality of Language in Francis Bacon’s Philosophy”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 119–131. doi:10.5840/eps202158348
  • Patterson, Timothy H., 1989, “The Secular Control of Scientific Power in the Political Philosophy of Francis Bacon”, Polity, 21(3): 457–480. doi:10.2307/3234743
  • Peltonen, Markku, 1992, “Politics and Science: Francis Bacon and the True Greatness of States”, The Historical Journal, 35(2): 279–305. doi:10.1017/S0018246X00025802
  • –––, 2001a, “Francis Bacon, the Earl of Northampton, and the Jacobean Anti-Duelling Campaign”, The Historical Journal, 44(1): 1–28. doi:10.1017/S0018246X01001649
  • –––, 2001b, “‘The Miller of Hungtingdon’: Francis Bacon - Statesman and Philosopher”, Redescriptions: Political Thought, Conceptual History and Feminist Theory, 5(1): 34–52. doi:10.7227/R.5.1.3
  • –––, 2004 [2007], “Bacon, Francis, Viscount St Alban (1561–1626), Lord Chancellor, Politician, and Philosopher”, in The Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, H. C. G. Matthew and B. Harrison (eds), Oxford: Oxford University Press, ref:odnb/990. This version 4 October 2007; accessed 24 January 2025. doi:10.1093/ref:odnb/990
  • Pérez-Ramos, Antonio, 1988, Francis Bacon’s Idea of Science and the Maker’s Knowledge Tradition, Oxford/New York: Clarendon Press.
  • Pesic, Peter, 2014, “Francis Bacon, Violence, and the Motion of Liberty: The Aristotelian Background”, Journal of the History of Ideas, 75(1): 69–90. doi:10.1353/jhi.2014.0007
  • Price, Bronwen (ed.), 2002, Francis Bacon’s New Atlantis: New Interdisciplinary Essays (Texts in Culture), Manchester/New York: Manchester University Press.
  • Rees, Graham, 1975, “Francis Bacon’s Semi-Paracelsian Cosmology”, Ambix, 22(2): 81–101. doi:10.1179/amb.1975222.81
  • –––, 2011, “Introduction”, to OFB XII: xvii–lxxxiii.
  • Rossi, Paoli, 1957 [1968], Francesco Bacone: dalla magia alla scienza, Bari: Laterza. Translated as Francis Bacon: From Magic to Science, Sacha Rabinovitch (trans.), Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968.
  • Rusu, Doina-Cristina, 2020, “Spiders, Ants, and Bees: Francis Bacon and the Methodology of Natural Philosophy”, in Jalobeanu and Vida 2020: 27–51. doi:10.5840/jems20209212
  • –––, 2021, “Francis Bacon and His Fate in the History and Philosophy of Science, 2010–2020”, Epistemology & Philosophy of Science, 58(3): 206–220. doi:10.5840/eps202158353
  • Rusu, Doina‐Cristina and Dana Jalobeanu, 2020, “Giovan Battista della Porta and Francis Bacon on the Creative Power of Experimentation”, Centaurus, 62(3): 381–392. doi:10.1111/1600-0498.12341
  • Serjeantson, Richard, 2013, “The Philosophy of Francis Bacon in Early Jacobean Oxford, with an Edition of an Unknown Manuscript of the Valerius Terminus”, The Historical Journal, 56(4): 1087–1106. doi:10.1017/S0018246X13000307
  • –––, 2016, “Francis Bacon and the Late Renaissance Politics of Learning”, in For the Sake of Learning: Essays in Honor of Anthony Grafton (Scientific and Learned Cultures and Their Institutions 18), 2 volumes, Ann Blair and Anja-Silvia Goeing (eds), Leiden/Boston: Brill, I: 195–211 (ch. 12),
  • Sessions, William A. (ed.), 1990, Francis Bacon’s Legacy of Texts: The Art of Discovery Grows with Discovery (Georgia State Literary Studies 5), New York: AMS Press.
  • Shapiro, Barbara J., 1980, “Sir Francis Bacon and the Mid-Seventeenth Century Movement for Law Reform”, The American Journal of Legal History, 24(4): 331. doi:10.2307/844906
  • Simon, Elliott M., 1988, “Bacon’s New Atlantis : The Kingdom of God and Man”, Christianity & Literature, 38(1): 43–61. doi:10.1177/014833318803800107
  • Stephens, James, 1975, Francis Bacon and the Style of Science, Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.
  • Studer, Heidi D., 1998, “Francis Bacon on the Political Dangers of Scientific Progress”, Canadian Journal of Political Science, 31(2): 219–234. doi:10.1017/S0008423900019776
  • Vickers, Brian, 1968a, Francis Bacon and Renaissance Prose, Cambridge: [Cambridge] University Press.
  • ––– (ed.), 1968b, Essential Articles for the Study of Francis Bacon, Hamden CT: Archon Books.
  • Weinberger, Jerry, 1980, “Introduction”, to The Great Instauration and New Atlantis, by Francis Bacon, Jerry Weinberger (ed.), Arlington Heights, IL: Harlan Davidson, vii–xxix.
  • Whitney, Charles, 1989, “Francis Bacon’s Instauratio: Dominion of and over Humanity”, Journal of the History of Ideas, 50(3): 371–390. doi:10.2307/2709567
  • Wormald, Brian Harvey Goodwin, 1993, Francis Bacon: History, Politics, Science, 1561-1626 (Cambridge Studies in the History and Theory of Politics), Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press.
  • Zagorin, Perez, 2001, “Francis Bacon’s Concept of Objectivity and the Idols of the Mind”, The British Journal for the History of Science, 34(4): 379–393. doi:10.1017/S0007087401004411

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Acknowledgments

The author would like to acknowledge the research and editorial assistance of Melike Çakan during the composition of this entry.

Copyright © 2025 by
Markku Peltonen <markku.peltonen@helsinki.fi>

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