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.