I Doubt, I should be guilty of a most important Omission, if I should here forget to consider One thing, which I fear has a main stroak in the Partiality your Friend expresseth in his preference of Physicks to Theology; and that is, That he supposes he shall by the Former acquire a Fame, both more Certain and more Durable, than can be hop’d for from the Latter.
And I acknowledge, not onely with readiness, but with somewhat of Gratulation of the felicity of this Age, That there is scarce any sort of Knowledge more in request, than that which Natural Philosophy pretends to teach; and that among the awaken’d and inquisitive part of Mankind, as much Reputation and Esteem may be gain’d by an insight into the Secrets of Nature, as by being intrusted with those of Princes, or dignifi’d with the splendid’st marks of their favour.
But though I readily confess thus much, and though perhaps I may be thought to have had, I know not by what fate, as great a share of that perfum’d Smoak, Applause, as (at least) some of those, which among the Writers that are now alive, your Friend seems most to Envy for it; yet I shall not scruple to tell you, partly from observation of what has happen’d to others, and partly too upon some little Experience of my own, that neither is it so easie as your Friend seems to believe it, to get by the study of Nature a sure and lasting Reputation, neither ought the Expectation of it, in reason, make men undervalue the study of Divinity. Nor would it here avail to object (by way of prevention) that the Difficulties and Impediments of acquiring and securing Reputation, lie as well in the way of Divines as Philosophers, since this Objection has been already consider’d at the beginning of this Second Part of our present Tract. Besides, that the progress of our Discourse will shew, that the Naturalist, aspiring to fame, is liable to some Inconveniences, which are either not at all, or not near equally incident to the Divine. Wherefore without staying to take any further notice of this preventive Allegation, I shall proceed to make good the first part of the Assertion that preceded it; which that I may the more fully do, give me leave (after having premised, That a man must either be a Writer, or forbear to Print what he knows;) to propose to you the following Considerations.
And first, if your Physeophilus should think to secure a great Reputation, by forbearing to couch any of his Thoughts or Experiments in Writing, he may thereby find himself not a little mistaken. For if once he have gain’d a repute (upon what account soever) of knowing some things that may be useful to others, or of which studious men are wont to be very desirous, he will not avoid the Visits and Questions of the Curious. Or, if he should affect a Solitude, and be content to hide himself, that he may hide the things he knows; yet he will not escape the sollicitations that will be made him by Letters. And if these ways of tempting him to disclose himself, prevail not at all with him to do so, he will provoke the Persons that have employ’d them; who finding themselves disoblieg’d by being defeated of their Desires, if not also their Expectations, will for the most part endeavour to revenge themselves on him, by giving him the Character of an uncourteous and ill-natur’d person; and will endeavour, perhaps successfully enough, to decry his parts, by suggesting, That his affected Concealments proceed but from a Conscientiousness, that the things he is presum’d to possess, are but such, as, if they should begin to be known, would cease to be valu’d.
You will say (perchance,) that so much reservedness is a fault: Nor shall I dispute it with you, whether it be or not; but, if he be open and communicative in Discourse to those Strangers that come to pump him, such is the disingenious temper of too too many, that he will be in great danger of having his Notions or Experiments arrogated by those to whom he imparts them, or at least by others, to whom those may (though perchance designlessly) happen to discourse of them. And then, if either Physeophylus, or any of his Friends that know him to be Author of what is thus usurp’d, should mention him as such, the Usurpers and their Friends would presently become his Enemies; and, to secure their own Reputation, will be sollicitous to lessen and blemish his. And if you should now tell me, that your Friend might here take a Middle way, as that which in most cases is thought to be the best, by discoursing at such a rate of his Discoveries, as may somewhat gratifie those that have a Curiosity to learn them, and yet not speak so clearly as divest himself of his Propriety in them; I should reply, That neither is this Expedient a sure one, nor free from Inconveniences. For most men are so self-opinionated, that they will easily believe themselves Masters of things, if they do but half understand them. And however, though the Persons to whom the Discourse was immediately made, should not have too great an Opinion of themselves, no more than too great a Sagacity; yet they may easily, by repeating what they heard and observ’d, give some more piercing Wit a hint sufficient to enable him to make out the whole Notion, or the Discovery, which he will then without scruple, and without almost any possibility of being disprov’d, assume for his own. But if it happen, (as it often will in Extemporaneous Discourse) that a Philosopher be not rightly understood; either because he has not the leisure, no more than a design, to explain himself fully, or because the Persons he converses with bring not a competent Capacity and Attention, he then runs a greater danger than before. For the vanity most men take in being known to have convers’d with eminent Philosophers, makes them very forward to repeat what they heard such a famous Wit say; and oftentimes being secure of not being contradicted, ignorantly to misrecite it, or wittingly to wrest it in favour of the Opinion they would countenance by it. So that, whereas by the formerly mention’d franckness of Discourse he is onely in danger to have the Truths he discover’d arrogated by Others, this reservedness exposes him to have Opinions and Errours that he never dream’d of, father’d on Him. And when a man’s Opinions or Discoveries come once to be publickly discours’d of, without being propos’d by himself, or some Friend well instructed by him, he knows not, what Errours or Extravagancies may be imputed to him (and that without a Moral possibility left to most men to discern them, (by the mistake of the Weak, or the disingenuity of the Partial, or the Artifices of the Malitious. And even the greatness of a mans Reputation does sometimes give such countenance to vain Reports and Surmises, as by degrees to shake, if not ruine, it. As we see, that Fryer Bacon, and Trithemius, and Paracelsus, who for their times were knowing as well as famous men, had such feats ascrib’d to them, as by appearing Fabulous to most of the Judicious, have tempted many to think, that all the great things that were said of them were so too.
These are some of the Inconveniences that a Naturalist may be liable to, if he forbear the communicating of his Thoughts and Discoveries himself: But if Physeophilus should, to shun these, aspire to Fame by the usual way of writing Books, he may indeed avoid these, but perhaps not without running into other inconveniences and hazards, very little inferiour to them.
First then, we may consider, that whether a man writes in a Systematical way, as they have done who have publish’d entire Bodies of Natural Philosophy, or Methodical Treatises of some considerable part of it, or whether he write in a more loose and unconfin’d way, of any particular Subject that belongs to Physicks; whichsoever, I say, of these two ways of writing Books he shall make choice of, he will find it liable to Inconvenience enough.
For if he write Systematically, first, he will be obliged (that he may leave nothing necessary undeliver’d) to say divers things that have been said (perhaps many times) by others already, which cannot but be unpleasant, not onely to the Reader, but (if he be Ingenious) to the Writer. Next, there are so many things in Nature, whereof we know little or Nothing, and so many more of which we do not know Enough, that our Systematical Writer, though we should grant him to be very Learned, must needs, either leave divers things that belong to his Theme untreated of, or discourse of them slightly, and oftentimes (in likelihood) Erroneously. So that in this kind of Books there is always much said that the Reader did know, and commonly not a little that the Writer does not know. And to this I must add in the third place, that Natural Philosophy, being so vast and pregnant a Subject, that (especially in so Inquisitive an Age as this) almost every day discovers some new thing or other about it, ‘tis scarce possible for a Method, that is adapted but to what is Already known, to continue Long the most proper; as the same Clothes will not long fit a Child, whose Age will make him quickly out-grow them. And therefore succeeding Writers will have a fair pretence to compile new Systems, that may be more adequate to Philosophy improv’d since the publication of the former. And though there were little of New to be added, and it were more easie to Alter than to Mend the Method of our supposed Authour; yet Novelty it self is a thing so pleasing and inviting to the generality of men, that It often recommends things that have nothing else to recommend them; and we may apply to a great many other things, what I remember a famous Courtier of my acquaintance used to say of Mistresses, That Another was preferable to a Better, (the Better being but the same.)
But now if, declining the Systematical way, one shall choose the other of writing loose Tracts and Discourses, he may indeed avoid some of the lately mention’d Inconveniences, but will scarce avoid the being plunder’d by Systematical Writers: For these will be apt to cull out those things that they like best, and insert them in their Methodical Books, (perhaps much curtal’d, or otherwise injur’d in the repeating,) and will place them, not as their own Authour did, where they may best confirm or adorn his Discourse, and be illustrated or upheld by it; but where it may best serve the turn of the Compiler: And these Methodical Books promise so much more Compendious a way than others to the Attainment of the Sciences they treat of, that though really for the most part they prove greater helps to the Memory, than the Understanding; yet most Readers, being, for want of Judgment or of Patience, of another mind, they are willing to take it for granted, that in former Writers, if there have been any thing considerable, it has been all carefully extracted, as well as orderly digested by the later Compilers: And though I take this to be a very Erroneous and Prejudicial Conceit, yet it obtains so much, that as Goldsmiths that onely give shape and lustre to Gold are far more esteem’d, and in a better Condition, than Miners, who find the Ore in the bowels of the Earth, and with great pains and industry dig it up, and refine it into Metall; so those that with great study and toil successfully penetrate into the hidden Recesses of Nature, and discover latent Truths, are usually less regarded or taken notice of by the Generality of Men, than those who by plausible Methods and a neat Style reduce the Truths, that others have found out, into Systems of a Taking Order and a Convenient Bulk.
I consider in the second place, That as the Method of the Books one writes, so the Bulk of them may prove prejudicial to the Naturalist that aspires to Fame: For if he write large Books, ‘tis odds but that he will write in them many things unaccurate, if not impertinent, or that he will be oblig’d to repeat many things that others have said before; and if he write but small Tracts, as is the custome of the Judiciousest Authors, who have no mind to publish but what is New and Considerable, as their Excellency will make them to be the sooner dispers’d, so the smallness of the Bulk will endanger them to be quickly lost; as Experience shows us of divers Excellent little Tracts, which, though publish’d not many years ago, are already out of Print, (as they speak) and not to be met with, save by chance, in Stationers Shops. So that these Writings (which deserve a better fate) come, after a while, either to be lost, (which is the case of divers,) or to have their Memory preserv’d onely in the larger Volume of some Compiler, whose Industry is onely preferable to his Judgment; it being observable, that (by I know not what unlucky fate) very few (for I do not say, None) that addict themselves to make Collections out of others, have the Judgment to cull out the choisest things in them; and the small Tracts, we are speaking of, being preserv’d but in such a Quoter or Abridger, will run a very great danger of being convey’d to posterity but under such a Representation as it pleases the Compiler.
And This (that I may proceed to my third Consideration) may make the Naturalists Fame very uncertain, not onely because of the want of Judgment, that (as I newly said) is too often observable in Compilers, whereby they frequently leave far better things than they take, but for the want of skill to understand the Author they Cite and Epitomize, or Candor to do him right. For sometimes mens Physical Opinions, and several Passages of their Writings, are so misrepresented by Mistake or Design, especially if those that recite their Opinions be not Of them, that men are made to teach or deliver things quite differing from their Sense, and perhaps quite contrary to it; of which, I my self have had some unwelcome Experience, a Learned Writer pretending, I know not how often, that I asserted an Opinion, about which I did expressly […]. And another noted Writer having (not out of design, but unacquaintedness with Mechanicks, and the Subject I writ of,) given me commendations for having, by a new Experiment, prov’d a thing, the quite contrary whereof I intended thereby to evince, and am not Alone mistaken, if I did not do it. Other Naturalists I have met with, whose Writings Compilers have traduc’d out of hatred to their Persons, or their Religion; as if Truth could in nothing be a Friend to one that is the Traducers’s Enemy; or as if a man that falls into an Errour in Religion, could not light upon a good Notion in Philosophy, in spite of all the Truths we owe to Aristotle, Epicurus, and the other Heathen Philosophers. Nay, some there are, that will set themselves to decry a man’s Writings, not because they are directly His Enemies, but because He is esteem’d by Theirs; as you may remember an Instance in a Servant of yours, who had divers things written against Him upon this very Account. Nor is it onely by the Citations of profess’d Adversaries or Opponents, that a worthy Writer’s Reputation may be prejudic’d, since ‘tis not unfrequently so by those, that mention him with an Encomium, and seem dispos’d to honour him. For I have observ’d it to be the Trick of certain Writers, to name an Author with much Complement, onely for some one or few of the least considerable things they borrow of Him; by which artifice they endeavour to conceal their being Plagiaries of more and better; which yet is more excusable than the Practise of some, who proceed to that pitch of disingenuity, that they will rail at an Author, to whom indeed they owe too much, that they may not be thought to be beholden to him.
But (4.) I must add, that besides these dangers that a Naturalists Reputation with posterity may run through the Ignorance or Perversness of men, it is liable to divers other hazards, from the very Nature both of Men, of Opinions, and of Things.
For, as men’s Genius’s and Inclinations are naturally various in reference to Studies, one man passionately affecting one sort of them, and another being fond of quite differing ones; so those Inclinations are oftentimes variously and generally determin’d by external and accidental Causes. As when some great Monarch happens to be a great Patron, or a Despiser, and perhaps Adversary, of this or that kind of Learning: And when some one man has gain’d much applause for this or that kind of Study; Imitation, or Emulation oftentimes makes many others addict themselves to it. Thus though Rome under the Consuls was inconsiderable for Learning, yet the Reputation of Cicero, and Favour of Augustus, brought Learning into request there; where the small countenance it met with among most of the succeeding Emperours, kept it far inferiour to what it had been among the Greeks about Alexander’s Age. And the Age of the same Augustus was enobled with store of Poets, not onely by the countenance which He and Maecenas afforded them, but probably also by the Examples they gave to, and the Emulation they excited in, one another. And after the decay of the Roman Empire, in the Fourth Century, Natural Philosophy and the Mathematicks being very little valued, and less understood, by reason that mens Studies were, by the Genius of those Ages apply’d to other Subjects, every hundred years scarce produc’d One Improver, (not to say one Eminent Cultivator) either of Mathematicks or of Physicks: By which you may see, how little Certainty there is, that, because a man is skill’d in Natural Philosophy, and that Science is now in Request, his Reputation shall be as great as now, when perhaps the Science it self will be grown out of Repute.
But besides the Contingencies that may happen to a Naturalist’s Fame upon this Account, That the Science He cultivates, is, as well as others, subject to Wanes and Eclipses in the general esteem of men; there is another uncertainty arising from the Vicissitudes that are to be met with in the Estimates men make of differing Hypotheses, Sects, and ways of Philosophizing about the same Science, and particularly about Natural Philosophy. For during those Learned Times, when Physicks first and most flourish’d among the Grecians, Democritus, Leucippus, Epicurus, Anaxagoras, Plato, and almost all the Naturalists that preceded Aristotle, were Corpuscularians, endeavouring, though not all by the same way, to give an account of the Phaenomena of Nature, and even of Qualities themselves, by the Bigness, Shape, Motion, &c. of Corpuscles, or the minutest active parts of Matter: Whereas Aristotle, having attempted to deduce the Phaenomena from the four first Qualities, the four Elements, and some few other barren Hypotheses, ascribing what could not be explicated by them, (and consequently far the greatest part of Natures Phaenomena) to Substantial Forms and Occult Qualities; (Principles that are readily nam’d, but scarce so much as pretended to be understood,) and having upon these slight and narrow Principles reduc’d Physicks into a kind of System, which the judicious Modesty of the Corpuscularians had made them backward to do; the Reputation that his great Pupil Alexander, as well as his Learning gave him; the Easiness of the way he propos’d to the attainment of Natural Philosophy; the good luck his Writings had to survive those of Democritus, and almost all the rest of the Corpuscularians, when Charles the Great began to establish Learning in Europe: These, I say, and some other lucky Accidents that concurr’d, did for about seven or eight hundred years together, make the Corpuscularian Philosophy not onely be Justled, but even Exploded out of the Schools by the Peripatetick; which in our Times is, by very many, upon the Revival of the Corpuscularian Philosophy, rejected, and, by more than a few, derided as precarious, unintelligible, and useless. And to give an instance in a particular thing, (which, though formerly named, deserves to be again mention’d to our present purpose,) Aristotle himself somewhere confesses, (not to say brags) that the Greek Philosophers, his Predecessors did, unanimously teach, that the World was (I say not Created, but) Made, and yet He, almost by his single Authority, and the subtile Arguments (as some have been pleased to think them,) that he employ’d, (though divers of them were borrow’d of Ocellus Lucanus,) was able for many Ages to introduce into the Schools of Philosophers that Irreligious and Ill-grounded Opinion of the Eternity of the World, which afterwards the Christian Doctrine made men begin to question, and which now both that and Right Reason have perswaded most men to reject.
And this invites me to consider farther, That the present success of the Opinions that your Physeophilus befriends, ought not to make him so sure as he thinks he is, that the same Opinions will be always in the same, or greater Vogue, and have the same Advantages, in point of General Esteem that they now have, over their Corrivals. For, Opinions seem to have their Fatal Seasons and Vicissitudes, as well as other things; as may appear, not onely by the Examples of it newly given, but also by the Hypothesis of the Earths Motion, which having been in great request before Pythagoras, (who yet is commonly thought the Inventor of it,) had its Reputation much increas’d by the suffrage of the famous Sect of the Pythagoreans, (whom Aristotle himself takes notice of as the Patrons of that Opinion;) and yet afterwards for near 2000 years it was laugh’d at, as not onely false, but ridiculous. After all which time, this so long antiquated Opinion being reviv’d by Copernicus, has in a little time made so great a progress among the modern Astronomers and Philosophers, that if it go on to prevail at the same rate, the Motion of the Earth will be acknowledg’d by all its Mathematical Inhabitants. But though it be often the Fate of an oppress’d Truth, to have at length a Resurrection, yet ‘tis not always its peculiar priviledge; for, Obsolete Errours are sometimes reviv’d, as well as discredited Truths: So that the general disrepute of an Opinion in one Age will not give us an absolute security, that ‘twill not be in as general Request in another, in which it may perhaps not onely Revive, but Reign.
Nor is it onely in the Credit of mens Opinions about Philosophical Matters, that we may observe an Inconstancy and Vicissitude, but in the very Way and Method of Philosophizing; for Democritus, Plato, Pythagoras, and others, who were of the more sincere and ingenious Cultivators of Physicks among the Greeks, exercis’d themselves chiefly either in making particular Experiments and Observations, as Democritus did in his manifold Dissections of Animals; or else apply’d the Mathematicks to the Explicating of a particular Phaenomenon of Nature, as may appear (not to mention what Hero teaches in his Pneumaticks,) by the Accounts, Democritus, Plato, and others, give of Fire and other Elements, from the Figure and Motion of the Corpuscles they consist of. And although this way of Philosophizing were so much in request before Aristotle, that (albeit he unluckily brought in another, yet) there are manifest and considerable footsteps of it to be met with in some of his Writings, (and particularly in his Books of Animals, and his Mechanical Questions;) yet the Scholastick followers of Aristotle did, for many Ages, neglect the way of Philosophizing of the Antients, and (to the great prejudice of Learning) introduc’d every where in stead of it a quite contrary way of Writing. For, not onely they laid aside the Mathematicks, (of which they were for the most part very ignorant,) but instead of giving us Intelligible and Explicite (if not Accurate) Accounts of particular Subjects, grounded upon a distinct and heedful Consideration of them, they contented themselves with hotly disputing, in general, certain unnecessary, or at least unimportant questions about the Objects of Physicks, about Materia Prima, Substantial Forms, Privation, Place, Generation, Corruption, and other such general things, with which when they had quite tyr’d themselves and their Readers, they usually remain’d utter strangers to the particular Productions of that Nature, about which they had so much wrangled, and were not able to give a man so much true and useful Information about Particular Bodies, as even the meanest Mechanicks, such as Minediggers, Butchers, Smiths, and even Dary-maids, could do. Which made their Philosophy appear so Imperfect and Useless, not onely to the Generality of Men, but to the more Elevated and Philosophical Wits, that our great Verulam attempted with much Skill and Industry, (and not without some Indignation) to restore the more modest and useful way practis’d by the Antients, of Inquiring into particular Bodies, without hastening to make Systems, into the Request it formerly had; wherein the admirable Industry of two of our London Physicians, Gilbert and Harvey, has not a little assisted him. And I need not tell you, that since Him, Des-Cartes, Gassendus, and others, having taken in the Application of Geometrical Theorems, for the Explication of Physical Problems; He, and They, and Other Restorers of Natural Philosophy, have brought the Experimental and Mathematical way of Inquiring into Nature into at least as high and growing an Esteem, as ever it possess’d when it was most in Vogue among the Naturalists that preceded Aristotle.
To the Considerations I have hitherto deduc’d, which (perhaps) might alone suffice for my purpose, I shall yet subjoyn one that I take to be of greater weight than any of them, for the manifesting how difficult it is to be sure, that the Physical Opinions, which at present procure a Champion or Promoter of them Veneration, shall be still in request. For besides that inconstant Fate of applauded Opinions, which may be imputed to the Inconstancy of Men, there is a greater danger that threatens the Aspirers Reputation from the very Nature of things: For the most general Principles of all, viz. the Figure, Bigness, Motion, and other Mechanical Affections of the small parts of Matter, being (as your Friend believes) sufficiently and clearly establish’d already; he must expect to raise his Reputation from subordinate Hypotheses and Theories; and in these I shall not scruple to say, that ‘tis extremely difficult, even for those that are more exercis’d than He, in framing Them and in making of Experiments to have so reaching and attentive a prospect of all things fit to be known, as not to be liable to have their Doctrine made doubtful, or disprov’d by something that He did not discover, or that After-times may. This, I doubt not, but you would easily be prevail’d with to allow, if I had leisure and conveniency to transmit to you my Sceptical Naturalist. And without having recourse to that Tract, it may possibly suffice, that we consider, that one of the Conditions of a good1 Hypothesis is, that It fairly comport not onely with all other Truths, but with all other Phaenomena of Nature, as well as those ‘tis fram’d to explicate. For this being granted, (which cannot be deny’d,) He that establishes a Theory, which he expects shall be acquiesc’d in by all succeeding Times, and make Him famous in them, must not onely have a care, that none of the Phaenomena of Nature, that are already taken notice of, do contradict his Hypothesis at the present, but that no Phaenomena that may be hereafter discover’d, shall do it for the future. And I very much question, whether Physiophilus do know, or, upon no greater a number and variety of Experiments than most men build upon, can know, how incompleat the History of Nature we yet have, is, and how difficult it is to build an Accurate Hypothesis upon an Incompleat History of the Phaenomena ‘tis to be fitted to; especially considering that (as I was saying) many things may be discover’d in After-times by Industry or Chance, which are not now so much as dream’d of, and which may yet overthrow Doctrines speciously enough accommodated to the Observations that have been hitherto made.
Those Antient Philosophers, that thought the Torrid Zone to be uninhabitable, did not establish their Opinion upon wild Reasonings; and as it continu’d uncontrol’d for many Ages, so perhaps it would have always done, if the Discoveries made by Modern Navigations had not manifested it to be Erroneous. The Solidity of the Celestial Orbs was, for divers Centuries above 1000 years, the general opinion of Astronomers and Philosophers, and yet in the last Age and in Ours, the free Trajection, that has been observ’d in the Motion of some Comets from one of the supposed Orbs to another, and the Intricate Motions in the Planet Mars, (observ’d by Kepler and others, to be sometimes nearer, as well as sometimes remoter from the Earth than is the Sun;) these, I say, and other Phenomena undiscover’d by the Antients, have made even Tycho, as well as most of the recent Astronomers, exchange the too long receiv’d Opinion of solid Orbs for the more warrantable belief of a Fluid Aether. And though the Celestial part of the World, by reason of its remoteness from us, be the most unlikely of any other to afford us the means of overthrowing old Theories by new Discoveries; yet even in that we may take notice of divers Instances to our present purpose, though I shall here name but this One, viz. That, after the Ptolemaick Number and Order of the Planets had past uncontradicted for very many Ages; and even the Tychonians and Copernicans, (however they did by their differing Hypotheses dissent from the Ptolemaick System (as to the Order,) did (yet) acquiesce in it as to the number of the Planets; by the happy Discoveries, made by Galilaeo of the Satellites of Jupiter, and by the excellent Hugenius, of the New Planet about Saturn, (which I think I had the luck to be the first that observ’d and shew’d Disbelievers of it in England,) the Astronomers of all perswasions are brought to add to the old Septenary number of the Planets, and take in Five others that their Predecessors did not dream of. That the Chyle prepar’d in the Stomach pass’d through the Mesaraick Veins to the Liver, and so to the Heart, was for many Ages the unanimous Opinion, not onely of Physicians, but Anatomists, whose numerous Diffections did not tempt them to question it; and yet, since the casual, though lucky, Discoveries made of the Milky Vessels in the Thorax by the dextrous Pecquet, those that have had with you and I the curiosity to make the requisite Experiments, are generally convinc’d, that (at least) a good part of the Chyle goes from the Stomach to the Heart, without passing through the Mesaraick Veins, or coming at all to the Liver.
‘Twere easie to multiply Instances of this kind, but I rather choose to add, that ‘tis not onely about the Qualities, and other Attributes of things, but about their Causes also, that New and oftentimes Accidental Discoveries may destroy the credit of Long and generally approv’d Opinions. That Quick-lime exceedingly heats the Water that is pour’d on to quench it, on the account of Antiperistasis, has been very long and universally receiv’d by the School-Philosophers, where ‘tis the grand and usual Argument, urg’d to Establish Antiperistasis; and yet I presume you have taken notice,2 that this Proof is made wholly Ineffectual in the judgment of many of the Virtuosi, by some contrary Experiments of mine, and particularly that of exciting in Quick-lime full as great an Effervescence by the Affusion of Hot water in stead of Cold· So it has been generally believ’d, that in the Congelation of Water, that Liquor is condens’d into a narrower room; whereas our late Experiments3 have satisfied most of the curious, that Ice is Water expanded, or (if you please) that Ice takes up more room than the Water did, whilst it remain’d unfrozen. And whereas the Notion of Natures abhorrence of a Vacuum, has not onely ever since Aristotle’s time made a great noise in the Schools, but seems to be Confirmable by a multitude of Phaenomena; the Experiments of Torricellius, and some of4 Ours, evidencing, that the Air has a great Weight and a strong Spring, have, I think, perswaded almost all, that have impartially consider’d them, that, whether there be or be not such a thing as they call Fuga Vacui, yet Suction, and the Ascension of Water in Pumps, and those other Phaenomena that are generally ascrib’d to It, may be very well Explicated without it, and are indeed caus’d by the Weight of the Atmosphere, and the Elastical power of the Air.
And this puts me in mind to take notice, that even practical Inventions, where one would think the Matter of Fact to be Evident, may by undream’d of Discoveries be brought to lose the general Reputation they had for compleatness in their kind. For to endear the Invention of Sucking Pumps and of Syphons, it has been generally presum’d, that by means of either of these, Water and any other Liquor may, ob fugam vacui, be rais’d to what height one pleases; and accordingly ways have been propos’d by famous Authors, to convey Water from one side of an high Mountain to the other: Whereas first the unexpected Disappointments that were met with by some Pump-makers, and afterwards Experiments purposely made, sufficiently evince, that neither a Pump nor a Syphon will raise Water to above 35 foot or thereabouts, nor Quicksilver to so many Inches.
And as to the Invention of Weather-glasses, which has been so much and justly applauded and us’d, as it has been generally receiv’d for the truest Standard of the Heat and Cold of the Weather; so it seems to be liable to no suspition of deceiving Us: For not onely ‘tis evident, that in Winter, when the Air is very Cold, the Water rises much higher than in Summer and other Seasons, when ‘tis not so; but if you but apply your warm hand to the Bubble at the top, the Water will be visibly depress’d by the rarifi’d Air, which upon the removal of the Hand returning to its former Coldness, the Water will forthwith as manifestly ascend again. And yet by finding,5 that, as the Atmosphaere has a considerable weight, so this weight is not always the same, but varies much, and that, as far as I can yet discover, uncertainly enough; I have had the luck to satisfie many of the Curious, that these Open Thermometers are not to be safely rely’d on, since in them the Liquor is made to rise and fall, not onely, as men have hitherto suppos’d, by the Cold and Heat of the Ambient Air, but (as I have shewn by divers new Experiments) according to the varying Gravity of the Atmosphaere; which Variation has not onely a Sensible, but a very Considerable Influence upon the Weather-glass. To these Instances I shall annex onely one more, from which we may learn, that notwithstanding a very heedful survey of all that at present a man can take notice of, or well suspect that he ought to take into his Consideration, the Case may be such, that having devis’d an Instrument, He may use it many years with good success; and yet, unless he were able to live very many more, he shall not be sure to out-live the danger of finding the same Instrument (though to sense as well condition’d as ever) fallacious: As he that first appli’d a Magnetick Needle to the finding of the Meridian Line, might very probably conclude, that his Needle pointing directly N. and S. or declining from it just two or three, or some other determinate number of Degrees, he had discover’d a certain and ready way, without the help of Sun or Stars, or Astronomical Instruments, to describe a Meridian Line, and if he liv’d but an ordinary number of years after his Observation, he might probably have found his Instrument not deceitful; which yet it may now be, the Magnetick Needle not onely declining in many places from the true points of N. and S. but (as later Discoveries inform us) varying in tract of time its Declination in the self same place.
The Considerations hitherto propos’d might easily enough be encreas’d by more of the same tendency, especially if I thought fit to borrow from a Discourse (of mine) purposely written about the Partiality and Uncertainty of Fame; but in stead of adding to their Number, I should think my self oblieged to excuse my having already mention’d so many, and insisted so much upon them, if I did not vehemently suspect, that in your Physiophilus, (as well as in many other modern Naturalists,) scarce any thing does more contribute to an Undervaluation of the study of Divinity, than that being eagerly ambitious of a Certain, as well as a Posthume Fame, he is confident that Physiologie will help to it; and therefore the design of his Discourse made me think it expedient to spend some time to manifest, That ‘tis far less easie than he thinks, to be as sure that he shall have the praises of Future Ages, as that (though he have them) he shall not hear them.
The past Considerations have, I presume, convinc’d you, that ‘tis no such easie matter for a Naturalist to acquire a great reputation and be sure it will prove a lasting one. Wherefore, that I may also confirm the second Part of what formerly I propos’d, I now proceed to show, that, though the case were otherwse, yet he would have no reason to slight the study of Divinity.
- For, in the first place, nothing hinders, but that a man who values and inquires into the Mysteries of Religion, may attain to an Eminent degree in the knowledge of those of Nature. For frequently men of great parts may successfully apply themselves to more than one Study; and few of them have their thoughts and hours so much ingross’d by that one Subject or Imployment, but that, if they have great Inclinations as well as Fitness for the study of Nature, they will find time, not onely to Cultivate it, but to Excel in it. You need not be told, That Copernicus, to whom our late Philosophers owe so much, was a Churchman; That his Champion Lansbergius was a Minister, and that Gassendus himself was a Doctor of Divinity. Among the Jesuites you know, that Clavius and divers others have as prosperously addicted themselves to Mathematicks as Divinity. And as to Physicks, not onely Scheiner, Aquilonius, Kircher, Schottus, Zucchius, and others, have very laudably cultivated the Optical and some other Parts of Philosophy; but Ricciolus himself, the Learned Compiler of that Voluminous and Judicious Work of the Almagestum novum, wherein he has inserted divers accurate Observations of his own, is not onely a Divine, but a Professor of Divinity. And without going out of our own Countrey, I could, if I durst for fear of offending the modesty of those I should name, or injuring the merit of those I should omit; I could (I say) if it were not for this, among our English Ecclesiasticks name you divers, who though they apply themselves so much to the study of the Scripture, as to be not onely solid Divines, but Excellent Preachers, have yet been so happily conversant with Nature, that, if they had liv’d in the Learned times of the Greeks, they would have rivall’d, if not eclips’d, some of them, Pythagoras and Euclid; others of them, Anaxagoras and Epicurus; and some of them, even Archimedes and Democritus themselves.
And certainly, provided there be Curiosity and Industry enough imploy’d in the study of Nature, it is not Necessary, that the knowledge of Nature should be the ultimate End of that Study; a Fondness of the Object being requir’d onely in order to the Engaging the mind to such a serious Application, as a higher aim May sufficiently invite us to; and Will rather promote than discourage. David became no less skilful in Musick,6 than those that were addicted to it onely to please themselves in it; though we may reasonably suppose, that so pious an Authour of Psalms and Instruments aspired to an Excellency in that delightful Science, that he might Apply and Prefer it to the Service of the Temple, and promote the Celebration of God’s Praises with it. And as Experience has manifested, that the Heathen Philosophers, that courted Moral Vertue for her self, did not raise it to that pitch, to which ‘twas advanc’d by the Heroick Practises of those true Christians, that in the highest Exercise of Vertue had a Religious aim at the pleasing and injoying of God; so I see not, why Natural Knowledge must be more prosperously cultivated by those selfish Naturalists, that aim but at the pleasing of themselves in the attainment of that Knowledge, than those Religious Naturalists, who are invited to Attention and Industry, not onely by the pleasantness of the Knowledge it self, but by a higher and more ingaging Consideration; namely, that by the Discoveries they make in the Book of Nature, both themselves and others may be excited and qualifi’d the better to admire and praise the Authour, whose Goodness does so well match the Wisdom they celebrate, that he declares in his Word, That those that honour him, he will honour.7
And as a man that is not in love with a fair Lady, but has onely a respect for her, may have as true and perfect, though not as discomposing an Idea of her face, as the most passionate Inamorato; so I see not, why a Religious and Inquisitive Contemplator of Nature may not be able to give a good account of her, without preferring her so far to all other Objects of his study, as to make her his Mistress, and perhaps too his Idol.
II. And now I proceed to consider in the second place, That matters of Divinity may, as well as those of Philosophy, afford a Reputation to Him that discovers, or illustrates them. For though the Fundamental Articles of Christian Religion be, as I have formerly declar’d, little less Evident than Important; yet there are many other points in Divinity, and passages in the Scripture, which (for Reasons that I have elsewhere mention’d) are exceeding hard to be clear’d, and do not onely pose ordinary Readers, and the common sort of Scholars, but will sufficiently exercise the Abilities of a Great Wit, and give him opportunity enough to manifest that He is One. For divers of the points I speak of are much benighted upon the score of the Sublimity of the Things they treat of; such as are the Nature, Attributes, and Decrees of God, which cannot be easie to the dimm understandings of Us that are but Men: And many other particulars that are not Abstruse in their own Nature, are yet made Obscure to us by our Ignorance, (or at least Imperfect Knowledge,) of the disus’d Languages wherein they are deliver’d, and the great remoteness of the Ages when, and the Countreys where, the things recorded were done or said. So that oftentimes a man may need and show as great Learning and Judgment to dispel the Darkness, wherein Time has involv’d Things, as that which Nature has cast on them: And in effect we see, that St. Augustine, St. Hierom, Origen, and others of the Fathers, have acquir’d no less a Reputation, than Empedocles, Anaxagoras, or Zeno; And Grotius, Salmasius, Mr. Mede, Dr. Hamond, and some other Critical Expounders of difficult Texts of Scripture, have thereby got as much Credit, as Fracastorius by his Book De Sympathia & Antipathia; Levinus Lemnius by his De Occultis rerum Miraculis; or Cardanus (and his Adversary Scaliger) by what they writ De Subtilitate; or even Fernelius himself by his Book De Abditis Rerum Causis. And it will contribute to the Credit which Theological Discoveries and Illustrations may procure a Man, that the Importance of the Subjects, and the earnestness wherewith men are wont to busie themselves about them, some upon the score of Piety, and others upon that of Interest, some to Learn Truths, and others to Defend what they have long or publickly taught for Truth, does make greater numbers of Men take notice of such Matters, and concern themselves far more about them, than about almost any other things, and especially far more, than about matters purely Philosophical, which but few are wont to think themselves fit to judge of, and concern’d to trouble themselves about. And accordingly we see, that the Writings of Socinus, Calvin, Bellarmine, Padre Paulo, Arminius, &c. are more famous, and more studied, than those of Telesius, Campanella, Severinus Danus, Magnenus, and divers other Innovators in Natural Philosophy. And Erastus, though a very Learned Physician, is much less famous for all his Elaborate Disputations against Paracelsus, than for the little Tract against particular Forms of Church-Government. And I presume You have taken notice, as well as I, that there are scarce any Five new Controversies in all Physicks, that are known to, and hotly contended for by so many, as are the Five Articles of the Remonstrants.
III. My second Consideration being thus dispatch’d, it remains, that I tell you in the Third place, that Supposing, but not Granting, that to prosecute the Study of Divinity, one must of necessity neglect the Acquist of Reputation; yet this Inconvenience it self ought not to deter us from the Duty it would disswade. For in all Deliberations, wherein any thing is propos’d to be quitted or declin’d, to obey or please God; me thinks, we may fitly apply that of the Prophet to the Jewish King, who being perswaded (to express his Concern for God’s Glory) to decline the Assistance of an Idolatrous Army of Israelites, and objecting, that by complying with the Advice given Him, he should lose a Sum of Money, amounting to no less than the Hire of a Potent Army; receiv’d from the Prophet this brisk, but rational, Answer, The Lord is able to give thee far more than this.8 The Apostle Paul, who had been traduc’d, revil’d, buffetted, scourg’d, imprison’d, shipwrack’d, and ston’d for his Zeal to propagate the Truths, whose study I plead for; after He had once had a Glimpse of that great Recompense of Reward that is reserved for us in Heaven, scruples not to pronounce,9 that he finds upon casting up the Account (for He uses the Arithmetical term […]) that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the Glory that is to be reveal’d in us.10 And if all that the Persecuted Christians of his time could suffer were not suitable (for so I remember the same Greek word to signifie elsewhere) or proportionable to that Glory; it will sure far out-weigh what we can now forego or decline for it. The loss of an Advantage, and much more the bare missing of it, being usually but a Negative Affliction, in comparison of the Actual sufferance of Evil. Christ did not onely tell his Disciples, that He who should give the least of his Followers so much as a cup of cold water upon the score of their relation to Him, should not be unrewarded; but when the same persons asked Him, what should be done to Them, who had left All to follow Him; He presently allots Them Thrones, as much outvaluing that All they had lost, as an ordinary Recompense may exceed a cup of cold water. And indeed God’s Goodness is so Great, and his Treasures so Unexhausted, that as He is forward to recompence even the least Services that can be done Him, so He is able to give the Greatest a proportionable Reward. Solomon had an Opportunity, such as never any Mortal had, (that we know of,) either before or since, of satisfying his Desires, whether of Fame, or any other Thing that he could wish;11 Ask what I shall give thee, was the proffer made him by Him, that could give All things worth Receiving; and yet the Wisdom even of Solomon’s choice, approv’d by God Himself, consisted in declining the most ambition’d things of this Life, for those things that might the better qualifie him to serve and please God. And to give you an example in a Greater than Solomon, we may consider,12 that He who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God; and who by leaving Heaven, did, to dwell on earth, quit more than any Inhabitant of the Earth can to gain Heaven, and deny’d more to become Capable of being tempted, than he did when he was tempted with an offer of All the Kingdoms of the world, and the Glory of them: This Saviour, I say, is said in Scripture to have,13 for the joy that was set before him, endured the Cross, and despised the shame; as if Heaven had been a sufficient Recompence for even His Renouncing Honours, and Embracing Torments.
He that declines the Acquist of the Applause of men for the Contemplation of the Truths of God, does but forbear to gather that whilst ‘tis immature, which by waiting God’s time he will more seasonably gather when ‘tis full ripe, and wholesome, and sweet. That immarcescible Crown (as St. Peter calls it) which the Gospel promises to them,14 who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory and honour, will make a rich amends for the declining of a Fading Wreath here upon Earth, where Reputation is oftentimes as undeservedly acquir’d, as lost: Whereas in Heaven, the very having Celestial Honours argues a Title to them. And since ‘tis our Saviour’s Reasoning, That His Disciples ought to rejoyce when their Reputation is pursued by Calumny, as well as their Lives by Persecution,15 because their reward is great in Heaven, we may justly infer, That the Grounded Expectation of so illustrious a Condition may bring us more Content, even when ‘tis not attended with a present Applause, than this Applause can give those who want that comfortable Expectation. So that, upon the whole matter, we have no reason to despond, or to complain of the Study of Theology, for but making Us decline an empty and transitory Fame for a solid and eternal Glory.
← Part 2, Section 4 · Contents · The Conclusion →
Footnotes
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See the Requisites of a good Hypothesis. ↩
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See this Subject handled at large in an Appendix to the Author’s Examen of Antiperistasis. ↩
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In the History of Cold. ↩
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Now publish’d in the Book of New Physico-Mechanical Experiments. ↩
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See a Tract on this Subject, premis’d by the Authour to his Book of Cold. ↩
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Amos vj.5. ↩
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1 Sam. ij.30. ↩
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- Chron. xxv.9.
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Rom. viij.18. ↩
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Luke xxiij.15. ↩
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[…] Kings iij.5. ↩
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Phil. ij.6. ↩
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Heb. xij.2. ↩
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Rom. ij.7. ↩
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Matth. v.11, 12. ↩