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access to Huntington Library Quarterly
BACON'S PRECISE attitude toward the human imagination has long been a
bone of contention among his commentators; for while few would deny
the essentially traditional basis of his faculty psychology, agreement on
imagination breaks down into two camps, one claiming that Bacon re-
spected the activities of imagination, the other maintaining that he
damned them with faint praise because his whole system was biased
against imagination.' Actually there is truth on both sides; for Bacon had
a dual view of the imagination based on his division of human knowledge
into branches according to the different faculties of knowing, so that
imagination could have legitimate and appropriate work in one branch
but not in another. The key to this double view of imagination, as well as
to many other major distinctions in Bacon, is the thorough dualism of his
philosophy and its close affinity with his religious beliefs. This dualist
approach lies behind Bacon's distinction first between science or natural
philosophy and poetry, and second between human knowledge and di-
vinely revealed knowledge. In this study I would like to look at how imag-
ination operates, especially in science and religion, and to explain why
Bacon felt as he did about that faculty.
Karl Wallace, in his study Francis Bacon on the Nature of Man, use-
fully distinguishes the two roles imagination plays in Bacon's theory, the
reproductive and the creative; and certainly this distinction helps to ex-
plain many of Bacon's statements on imagination.2 Yet it is hardly the
full story; for while in theory Bacon acknowledges the place of imagina-
tion's reproducing capacity, in practice he almost always deals with its
creative impulses, because these present the most serious problems. In
general he finds that although its creative powers may work well enough
'Most adverse criticism comes from those who adhere partly or entirely to Basil Willey's
influential The Seventeenth Century Background (New York, 1934). See, for example, Sidney
Warhaft, "Science against Man in Bacon," Bucknell Review, VII (1958), 158-173. Other at-
tacks come from literary critics, like L. C. Knights, who notes in "Bacon and the Seventeenth-
Century Dissociation of Sensibility," Explorations (New York, 1964), p. 122: "Bacon in fact
sanctions that divorce between imagination and reason, emotion and intelligence, that-long
after the Romantic Revival-was to have a bad effect on English poetry." An extreme defense
of Bacon's view of imagination is found in Thomas Jameson, Francis Bacon: Criticism and
the Modern World (New York, 1954); John L. Harrison, "Bacon's Views of Rhetoric, Poetry
and Imagination," HLQ, XX (1957), 107-125, presents a more balanced handling of the
subject. See also Murray W. Bundy, "Bacon's True Opinion of Poetry," SP, XXVII (1930),
244-264; Paul Kocher, "Francis Bacon on the Drama,"Essays on Shakespeare and Elizabethan
Drama in Honour of Hardin Craig, ed. Richard Hosley (London, 1963), pp. 302, 306.
2Urbana, Ill., 1967, pp. 71-72, 75, 79.
317
? 1973 by The Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.
Few passages reveal so well how precisely and carefully Bacon severs the
traditional alliance of imagination and reason by showing how funda-
mentally different each works with Nature. The language here is totally
weighted against the imagination; it could hardly produce science in the
Baconian sense because it is never satisfied with things as they are. First,
not being tied to any laws of the mind, it is a very unbusinesslike faculty
and conducts itself according to its own pleasures, i.e., according to the
feelings, emotions, and desires of men; and so like Proteus it changes
3Francis Bacon, De Dignitate et Augmentis Scientiarum, in The Works of Francis Baconi,
ed. James Spedding, Robert Leslie Ellis, and Douglas Denon Heath (Boston, 1900), IX, 62;
Book V, Ch. i. Subsequent references will be given within parentheses in the text. For the
reader's convenience I have given, whenever possible, reference to the original internal
divisions in Bacon's works, followed by reference to the edition I use.
318
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320
5For more of Bacon's comments on imagination see De Auginentis, Book V, Ch. i; for one
of the central passages that explains his notion of Nature as the laws over matter and puts
it clearly into the religious context of God's work of Creation and man's Fall, see Bacon's
Confession of Faith, XIV, 49-50.
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what nature will have set forth"; whereas only "the poet, disdaining to be
tied to any such subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention,
doth grow in effect another nature, in making things either better than
nature brought forth, or quite anew."6 Bacon would assent to all of this
but the implication that poetry's freedom from Nature's limits gives it
the power to re-create Nature. In delivering his golden world, says Sid-
ney, the poet "goeth hand in hand with nature" and apparently leads her
along with him. Bacon maintains, however, that poetry has little or no
connection with the real world, but instead presents a feigned history
that approximates God's transcendent Providence. For Bacon science
provides the energy to reach his goal of relief of man's estate, while poetry
furnishes a kind of pleasant refreshment in that weary toil. For Sidney, on
the other hand, only poetry's energy "may make the too much loved earth
more lovely" (Apology, p. 15)-and more worthy to be loved.
Bacon's argument-that science claims real history, wvhether natural or
human, for its field and works its wonders there to satisfy human needs,
whereas poetry erects an ideal world to satisfy human desires-depends on
a fundamental separation of matter and spirit. Poetry's power of tran-
scending the material world makes it a natural ally to morality and reli-
gion precisely because these latter have their origins in an immaterial
and transcendent God and yet must affect a human soul, caught in a
body, mired in history and in the sensible world that lies since the Fall
under God's curse of corruption and his wrath. This world indeed shows
little of the greatness, order, and beauty it once showed to Adam before
his sin; yet the Fall has not changed human nature so much that it no
longer desires its pristine state in some dim fashion, and it remains capa-
ble of some efficacy in the world in the form of arts and sciences.7 Bacon
contends, then, that the poetic imagination can temporarily satisfy the
soul's longings by lifting it into the ideal world of poetic justice and di-
6An Apology for Poetry, ed. Forrest G. Robinson (New York, 1970), pp. 13, 14. Subsequent
citations from the Apology will be given within parentheses in the text.
7Bacon's full interpretation of the Fall is too complex to be treated here, but his belief
that man could progress in the material world allies him with the Calvinist interpretation,
that stretching back at least to Augustine sharply distinguished between the Fall's effects on
man's spiritual nature and on his material nature. For a full account see Arnold Williams,
The Common Expositor (Chapel Hill, 1948), p. 250. Bacon's most concise description of t
Fall reveals many of the same elements and attitudes that apply to his theory of imagination:
"God created Man in his own image, in a reasonable soul, in innocency, in free-will, and in
sovereignty: That he gave him a law and commandment, which was in his power to keep,
but he kept it not: That man made a total defection from God, presuming to imagine that
the commandments and prohibitions of God were not the rules of Good and Evil, but that
Good and Evil had their own principles and beginnings; and lusted after knowledge of those
imagined beginnings, to the end to depend no more upon God's will revealed, but upon
himself and his own light, as a God; than the which there could not be a sin more opposite
to the whole law of God" (Confession of Faith, XIV, 51). One notes that imagination also
plays a role in the Fall.
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vine Providence. By thus affecting human desire, poetry can help move
men to moral action in this world, particularly to acts of charity that he
so often calls for. These acts are, of course, applications of natural philos-
ophy to the relief of man's estate. Thus poetry can give a picture of
Bensalem, but only science can seek to build it.
Once again one may profitably compare Bacon and Sidney. For each
writer poetry furnishes a different proof that men are fallen, and yet re-
tain some power. Bacon's poetics is idealist: poetry's imaginative power
suggests something of Adam's original condition, which through the help
of science men might to a degree regain; its moral effect, working through
a therapeutic escape from reality, depends on a simplified, ideal version
of history as poetic justice-virtue rewarded, vice punished. Sidney's
poetics is realist. The dimension of fallen men and Nature that poetry
indicates is not a nostalgic vision of prelapsarian Eden, but the disparity
between human desire and intention and human action. The imagina-
tive power of poetry is "no small argument to the incredulous of that first
accursed fall of Adam, sith our erected wit maketh us know what perfec-
tion is, and yet our infected will keepeth us from reaching unto it" (A pol-
ogy, p. 17). By convincing men of the distortions in their emotions, in
their ways of acting and living together, poetry teaches and gently pushes
men to correct these failures. Poetry's moral impulse does not rely on a
simplistic poetic justice, but on "feigning notable images of virtues,
vices, or what else" (Apology, p. 2 i)-the "what else" presumably being
the whole range of human experience in between. Sidney's points are
two: first, the Fall makes it impossible for men to be perfect people, and
poetry is a good sober reminder of that; second, the real problem of mak
ing the world a better place to live in is a psychological one of right ac-
tion that in turn depends on human desires and feelings. Bacon, of
course, knows much about the psychological obstacles in human nature,
although for him men's failures in natural philosophy are the best evi-
dence of the Fall's effects; but since his real interests lie with the problem
of knowledge, his analysis of the psychology of action seems rather
sketchy, even simplistic when applied to poetry. Even though he realizes
generally the importance of imagination in human action, Bacon does
not bother to explain specifics that cry out for elaboration: how, for ex-
ample, poetry's transcendent thrust becomes redirected into moral acts
of charity. Perhaps his strong Calvinist background prevented him from
fully accepting and accounting for imagination's creative powrer and free-
dom, not only here in poetry but in science as well.8
8The Calvinist affinities of Bacon's thought and background have been attested to by many
commentators, though no separate study of his religious beliefs and their effect on his philoso-
phy exists. Among the sporadic references the reader might consult Fulton Anderson, Francis
Bacon: His Career and Thought (Los Angeles, 1962), p. 83; Douglas Bush, English Literature
in the Earlier Seventeenth Century, 2nd ed. rev. (Oxford, 1962), p. 284; Paolo Rossi, Francis
324
Bacon: Fronm Magic to Science, trans. Sacha Rabinovitch (Chicago, 1968), p. 164; Virgil K.
Whitaker, Francis Bacon's Intellectual Milietu (Los Angeles, 1962), p. 22. However, not all
Calvinists shared the same opinion about imagination, Sidney himself being an example to
the contrary.
9Peace amotng the Willows (The Hague, 1968), pp. io8ff. Sidney would place such Parabo
cal Poesy on the fringes of poetry because it does not conform strictly to the true office of a
poet; of such allegorical poets he wryly commenlts, "whether they properly be poets or no
let grammarians dispute" (Apology, pp. 19-20).
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