Tag Archives

Trinity College Cambridge

THE ADVANCE OF REASON

David Selzer By David Selzer1 Comment2 min read1.4K views

Francis Bacon – not the figurative Irish

painter, the almost incomparable

depictor of human unreason –

but the Elizabethan/Jacobean

English essayist, diplomat, lawyer,

philosopher and politician, who was,

according to Euro-centric legend,

not only the real author of Shakespeare’s

plays but also the last person to have read

every book that had ever been written –

went to Trinity College, Cambridge,

when he was 12, and left at 16

to join the diplomatic service.

While at Cambridge he concluded that,

though admirable in itself, Aristotle’s

approach was not fit for purpose since

it did not improve ‘the estate of man’.

 

Later he would write THE ADVANCEMENT

OF LEARNING, whose taxonomies would inform

The Enlightenment, and NOVUM ORGANUM,

in Latin, whose empiricism

would establish the scientific method.

 

In a parallel life he was an MP

in a number of constituencies,

took gifts from litigants while Lord Chancellor,

and campaigned tirelessly for the urgent

beheading of Mary Queen of Scots.

 

***

 

The title NOVUM ORGANUM alludes

to Aristotle’s ORGANUM, his work

on logic the youthful Bacon decried.

The engraved title page of Bacon’s book

shows a galleon in full sail surging

through the Pillars of Hercules – now the Straits

of Gibraltar – west of which, according to

Plato, Atlantis lay. The pillars

were inscribed with a sailors’ warning:

Non Plus Ultra – Nothing Further Beyond.

 

Meanwhile, however, in far Cathay,

medical practitioners still consult

regularly a book of herbal medicines

and their uses which was written in the late

Han dynasty more than a thousand years

before Francis Bacon put quill to parchment.

 

 

 

 

THE FASHION OF THE EARTH

David Selzer By David Selzer0 Comments2 min read1.4K views

In a letter published in The Times in May

1936 – the month after

A.E. Housman died – a former student,

Dora Pym, herself a classics teacher,

described a lecture the poet/professor

had given in 1914, one morning

in May when all of the cherry trees

of Trinity College, Cambridge seemed to bloom.

 

The subject was one of Horace’s Odes –

‘Diffugere nives…’ Housman analysed

the poem, both its sense and grammar,

with his usual erudition, wit,

and donnish sarcasm. Then, for the first time

in the two years she had been attending

his lectures, looked up at the students.

In a quite different voice, he told them

that he would like to spend the remaining

minutes of the lecture ‘considering

this ode simply as poetry’ – something

they would have previously assumed was

anathema to him. He read the piece

first in Latin, then in his own translation

 

‘The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws
And grasses in the mead renew their birth,
The river to the river-bed withdraws,
And altered is the fashion of the earth…’

 

– obviously moved. ‘That,’ he said hastily

like one betraying a secret, ‘I regard

as the most beautiful poem in ancient

literature’, and hurriedly left the room.

 

While they were walking to the next lecture,

her companion, a scholar from Trinity

(who would be killed in the coming war)

said, ‘I was afraid the old fellow was going

to cry’. They thought they had seen something

not meant for them, or anyone perhaps.