But this is not all. For when you have brought an Experiment to an Issue, though the Event may often prove such as you will be pleas’d with; yet it will seldome prove such as you can acquiesce in. For it fares not with an Inquisitive mind in studying the Book of Nature, as in reading of Aesop’s Fables, or some other collection of Apologues of differing sorts, and independant one upon another; where when you have read over as many at one time as you think fit, you may leave off when you please, and go away with the pleasure of understanding those you have perus’d, without being sollicited by any troublesome Itch of Curiosity to look after the rest, as those which are needful to the better understanding of those you have already gone over, or that will be explicated by them, and scarce without them. But in the Book of Nature, as in a well contriv’d Romance, the parts have such a connection and relation to one another, and the things we would discover are so darkly or incompleatly knowable by those that precede them, that the mind is never satisfied till it comes to the end of the Book; till when all that is discover’d in the progress, is unable to keep the mind from being molested with Impatience to find that yet conceal’d, which will not be known till one does at least make a further progress. And yet the full discovery of Natures Mysteries, is so unlikely to fall to any mans share in this Life, that the case of the Pursuers of them is at best like theirs, that light upon some excellent Romance, of which they shall never see the latter parts. For indeed (to speak now without a Simile) there is such a Relation betwixt Natural Bodies, and they may in so many ways (and divers of them unobserv’d) work upon, or suffer from, one another, that he who makes a new Experiment, or discovers a new Phaenomenon, must not presently think, that he has discover’d a new Truth, or detected an old Error. For, (at least if he be a considering man) he will oftentimes find reason to doubt, whether the Experiment or Observation have been so skilfully and warily made in all circumstances, as to afford him such an Account of the matter of fact, as a severe Naturalist would desire. And then, supposing the Historical part no way defective, there are far more Cases than are taken notice of, wherein so many differing Agents may produce the exhibited Phaenomenon, or have a great Influence upon the Experiment or Observation, that he must be less jealous than becomes a Philosopher, to whom Experiments doe not oftentimes as well suggest new doubts, as present new Phaenomena.

And even those Trials, that end in real Discoveries, do, by reason of the connection of Physical Truths, and the relations that Natural Bodies have to one another, give such hopes and such desires of improving the Acquists we have already made, to the explicating of other Difficulties, or the making of further Discoveries, that an Inquisitive Naturalist finds his work to increase daily upon his hands, and the event of his past Toils, whether it be good or bad, does but engage him into new ones, either to free himself from his scruples, or improve his successes. So that, though the pleasure of making Physical Discoveries, is, in it self consider’d, very great; yet this does not a little impair it, that the same attempts which afford that delight, do so frequently beget both anxious Doubts, and a disquieting Curiosity. So that, if knowledge be, as some Philosophers have styl’d it, the Aliment of the Rational Soul, I fear I may too truly say, that the Naturalist is usually fain to live upon Sallads and Sauces, which though they yield some nourishment, excite more appetite than they satisfie, and give us indeed the pleasure of eating with a good stomach, but then reduce us to an unwelcome necessity of always rising hungry from the Table.

Of divers things, that lessen the Delightfulness of Physiological Studies, I do so amply discourse in other Papers, that I might well remit you thither; but indeed it is not necessary that I should insist on this Argument any further. ‘Tis true, that such a Reference might be very proper, if the Mysteries of Theology and Physick were like those of Theology and Necromancy, or some other part of unlawful Magick, whereof the former could not be well relish’d without an abhorrence of the latter. But as the two great Books, of Nature and of Scripture, have the same Authour; so the study of the latter does not at all hinder an Inquisitive man’s delight in the study of the former. The Doctor I am pleading for, may as much relish a Physical Discovery, as Physiophilus; nay, by being addicted to Theology and Religion, he is so far from being uncapable of the contentments accruing from the study of Nature, that beside those things that recommend it to others, there are several things that peculiarly endear it to Him.

For I. he has the contentment to look upon the wonders of Nature, not onely as the Productions of an admirably wise Author of things, but of such an one as he intirely honours and loves, and to whom he is related. He that reads an excellent Book, or sees some rare Engine, will be otherwise affected with the sight or the perusal, if he knows it to have been made by a Friend, or a Parent, than if he considers it but as made by a stranger, whom he has no particular reason to be concern’d for. And if Rehoboam did not as well degenerate from the sentiments of Mankind, as from his Family, he could not but look upon that Magnificent Temple of Solomon with another Eye, than did the throngs of Strangers that came onely to gaze at it, as an admirable piece of Architecture, whilst he consider’d that ‘twas his Father that built it. And if (as we see) the same Heroick Actions, which we read in History, of some great Monarch, that strangers barely and unconcernedly admire, the Natives of his Countrey do not onely venerate, but affectionately interest themselves therein, because they are his Countrey-men, and their Ancestors were his Subjects: How much may we suppose the same Actions would affect them, if they had the honour to be that Prince’s Children? We may well therefore presume, that ‘tis not without a singular satisfaction, that the Contemplator, we are speaking of, does in all the Wonders of Nature discover, how wise, and potent, and bountiful that Author of Nature is, in whom he has a great Interest, and that so great an one, as both to be admitted into the number of his Friends, and adopted into the number of his Sons, and is thereby in some measure concern’d in all the Admirations and Praises, that are paid either by himself or others, to those Adorable Attributes that God has displayed in that great Master-piece of Power and Wisdom, the World. And when he makes greater discoveries in these Expresses and Adumbrations of the Divine Perfections, the delightfulness of his Contemplation is proportionably increas’d upon such an Account, as that, which indears to the passionate Lover of some charming Beauty an Excellent, above an Ordinary, Picture of her; because that the same things that make him, as it does other Gazers, look upon it as a finer piece, make Him look upon it as the more like his Mistress, and thereby entertain him with the sublimer Idea’s of the belov’d Original; to whose transcendent Excellencies he supposes that the Noblest Representations must be the most resembling.

And there is a farther Reason, why our Contemplator should find a great deal of contentment in these Discoveries. For we have in our nature so much of Imperfection, and withall so much of Inclination to self-love, that we do too confidently proportion our Idea’s of what God can do for us, to what we have already the knowledge or the possession of. And though, when we make it our business, we are able with much ado somewhat to enlarge our apprehensions, and raise our expectations beyond their wonted pitch; yet still they will be but scantly promoted and heightned, if those things themselves be but mean and ordinary, which we think we have done enough if we make them surpass. A Countrey Villager, born and bred in a homely Cottage, cannot have any suitable apprehensions of the Pleasures and Magnificence of a great Monarchs Court. And if he should be bid to scrue up his Imagination to frame Idea’s of them, they would be borrow’d from the best Tiled House he had seen in the Market-towns where he had sold his Turnips or Corn, and the Wedding-feast of some neighbouring Farmers Daughter. And though a Child in the Mother’s womb had the perfect use of Reason, yet could it not in that dark Cell have any Idea’s of the Sun or Moon, or Beauties or Banquets, or Algebra or Chymistry, and many other things, which his Elder Brothers, that breath fresh Air, and freely behold the Light, and are in a more mature Estate, are capable of knowing and enjoying. Now among Thinking men, whose thoughts run much upon that future state which they must shortly enter into, but shall never pass out of; there will frequently and naturally arise a distrust, which though seldome own’d, proves oftentimes disquieting enough! For such men are apt to question, how the future condition which the Gospel promises, can afford them so much happiness as it pretends to; since they shall in Heaven but Contemplate the Works of God, and praise him, and converse with him, all which they think may, though not immediately, be done by men here below, without being happy: But he that by Telescopes and Microscopes, dexterous Dissections, and well imploy’d Furnaces, &c. discovers, the wondrous power and skill of him that contriv’d so vast and immense a Mass of Matter, into so curious a piece of Workmanship as this World, will pleasingly be convinc’d of the boundless power and goodness of the great Architect. And when he sees how admirably every Animal is furnish’d with parts requisite to his respective nature; and that there is particular care taken, that the same Animal, as for example, Man, should have differing provisions made for him according to his differing states within the womb, and out of it, (a humane Egg, and an Embrio, being much otherwise nourished and fitted for action, than is a (compleat) Man;) He, I say, who considers this, and observes the stupendious Providence, and excellent Contrivances, that the curious Priers into Nature (and none but they) can discover, will be as well enabled as invited to reason thus within himself: That sure God, who has with such admirable Artifice fram’d Silk-worms, Butterflies, and other meaner Insects, and with such wonderful providence taken care, that the nobler Animals should as little want any of all the things requisite to the compleating of their respective Natures; and who, when he pleases, can furnish some things with Qualifications, quite differing from those which the knowledge of his other works could have made us imagine, (as is evident in the Load-stone and in Quick-silver among Minerals, and the Sensitive Plant among Vegetables, the Camelion among Animals, &c.) This God, I say, must needs be fully able to furnish those he delights to honour· with Objects suitable to their improv’d. Faculties, and with all that is requisite to the Happiness he intends them in their glorifi’d state; and is able to bring this to pass by such amazing contrivances, as perhaps will be quite differing from any, that the things we have yet seen suggest to us any Idea’s of. And sure he, that has in so immense, so curious, and so magnificent a Fabrick, made such provision for Men, who are either desperately wicked, or but very imperfectly good, and in a state where they are not to Enjoy happiness, but by Obedience and Sufferings to Fit themselves for it, may safely be trusted with finding them in Heaven Imployments and Delights becoming the Felicity he designs them There; as we see that here below, he provides as well for the soaring Eagle, as for the creeping Caterpillar, (and is able to keep the Ocean as fully supply’d with Rivers, as Lakes or Ponds are with Springs and Brooks.) And as a state of Celestial happiness is so great a Blessing, that those things that afford us either greater assurances, or greater foretastes of it, are of the number of the greatest Contentments and Advantages, that short of It we can enjoy; so ‘tis hard for any Divine to receive so much of this kind of satisfaction, as he who by skilfully looking into the Wonders of Nature, has his apprehensions of God’s power and manifold wisdom (as an Apostle calls it) elevated and enlarg’d.¹ As when the Queen of Sheba had particularly survey’d the astonishing Prudence that Solomon display’d in the ordering of his Magnificent Court; she transportedly concluded those Servants of his to be happy enough to deserve a Monarchs Envy, that were allowed the Honour and Priviledge of a constant and immediate Attendance on him.

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Footnotes

1. Ephes. iij.10. ↩