# The History of the Royal Society of London/Part 1

THE
HISTORY
OF THE
Institution, Design, and Progress,
OF THE
ROYAL SOCIETY
OF
LONDON,
For the Advancement of experimental Philosophy.
The First Part.
Shall here present to the World, an Account of the first Institution of theSect. I. The Preface, and Design of this Discourse. Royal Society; and of the Progress, which they have already made: In hope, that this learned and inquisitive Age, will either think their Indeavours worthy of its Assistance; or else will be thereby provok'd, to attempt some greater Enterprize (if any such can be found out) for the ​Benefit of human Life, by the Advancement of Real Knowledge.
Perhaps this Task, which I have propos'd to myself, will incur the Censure of many judicious Men, who may think it an over-hasty and presumptuous Attempt; and may object to me, that the History of an Assembly which begins with so great Expectations, ought not to have been made publick so soon; till we could have produced very many considerable Experiments, which they had try'd, and so have given undeniable Proofs of the Usefulness of their Undertaking.
In answer to this, I can plead for my self, that what I am here to say, will be far from preventing the Labours of others in adorning so worthy a Subject; and is premis'd upon no other account, than as the noblest Buildings are first wont to be represented in a few Shadows or small Models; which are not intended to be equal to the chief Structure it self, but only to shew in little, by what Materials, with what Charge, and by how many Hands, that is afterwards to be rais'd. Although, therefore, I come to the Performance of this Work, with much less Deliberation, and Ability, than the Weightiness of it requires; yet I trust, that the Greatness of the Design it self, on which I am to speak, and the Zeal which I have for the Honour of our Nation, which have been the chief Reasons that have mov'd me to this Confidence of Writing, will serve to make something for my Excuse. For what greater matter can any Man desire, about which to employ his Thoughts, than the Beginnings of an Illustrious Company, which has already laid such excellent Foundations of so much Good to Mankind? ​Or, what can be more delightful for an English Man to consider, than that notwithstanding all the late Miseries of his Country, it has been able in a short Time so well to recover it self, as not only to attain to the Perfection of its former Civility, and Learning, but also to set on foot a new Way of Improvement of Arts, as great and as beneficial (to say no more) as any the wittiest or the happiest Age has ever invented?
But besides this, I can also add, in my Defence, that though the Society, of which I am to write, is not yet four Years old, and has been of necessity hitherto chiefly taken up, about preparatory Affairs; yet even in this Time, they have not wholly neglected their principal End, but have had Success, in the Trial of many remarkable Things; of which I doubt not, but I shall be able, as I pass along, to give Instances enough to satisfy the Curiosity of all sober Inquirers into Truth. And in short, if for no other End, yet certainly for this, a Relation of their first Original ought to be expos'd to the View of Men: That by laying down, on what course of Discovery they intend to proceed, the Gentlemen of the Society may be more solemnly engag'd, to prosecute the same. For now they will not be able, handsomely to draw back, and to forsake such honourable Intentions; when the World shall have taken notice, that so many prudent Men have gone so far, in a Business of this universal Importance, and have given such undoubted Pledges of many admirable Inventions to follow.
Sect. II. The Division of the Discourse.I shall therefore divide my Discourse into these three general Heads.
​The first shall give a short View of the Ancient and Modern Philosophy; and of the most famous Attempts, that have been made for its Advancement: That by observing wherein others have excell'd, and wherein they have been thought to fail, we may the better shew, what is to be expected from these new Undertakers; and what mov'd them, to enter upon a Way of Inquiry, different from that, on which the former have proceeded.
The second shall consist of the Narrative it self: And out of their Registers, and Journals, which I have been permitted to peruse, shall relate the first Occasions of their Meetings, the Incouragement, and Patronage, which they have receiv'd; their Patent, their Statutes, the whole Order and Scheme of their Design, and the Manner of their Proceedings.
The third shall try, to assert the Advantage and Innocence of this work, in Respect of all Professions, and especially of Religion; and how proper, above others, it is,for the present Temper of the Age wherein we live.
On the first and last of these Particulars, it is not needful that I should long insist: Because several great Men have already so much prevented me about them; that there is hardly any thing can be spoken, in which I shall not almost tread in their very Footsteps. But yet it is requisite, that something be here said to that purpose, though it be only in Repetition: Because I perceive, that there is still much prejudice remaining on many Men's Minds, towards any new Discoveries in natural Things. This I shall try to remove, not that I imagine, that those Reasons can have any great ​effect in my weak Hands, which were not able fully to prevail, when they were inforc'd by the Eloquence of those excellent Men who have gone before me in this Argument: But I rather trust to the inclination of the Age it self, wherein I write; which (if I mistake not) is far more prepar'd to be persuaded to promote such Studies, then any other Time that has gone before us.
Sect. III. The Philosophy of the East.And first, let us observe the Practice of the best, and the civilest Nations, amongst the Ancients; and a little trace out the Course which they follow'd, to enrich their Countries, by the introducing of Foreign Arts, or a searching into New.
It is evident, from the universal Testimony of History, that all Learning and Civility were deriv'd down to us from the Eastern Part of the World. There it was, that Mankind arose: and there they first discover'd the Ways of Living, with Safety, Convenience, and Delight. It is but just, that we should attribute the original of Astronomy, Geometry, Government, and many Sorts of Manufactures, which we now enjoy, to the Assyrians, the Chaldeans, and Egyptians. And as to them we owe the Invention; so from them proceeded the first Corruption of Knowledge. It was the Custom of their wise men, to wrap up their Observations of Nature, and the Manners of Men, in the dark Shadows of Hieroglyphicks; and to conceal them, as sacred Mysteries, from the apprehensions of the Vulgar. This was a sure Way to beget a Reverence in the People's Hearts towards themselves: but not to advance the true Philosophy of Nature. That stands not in need of such Artifices to uphold its credit: But is then most likely ​to thrive, when the Minds, and Labours of Men of all Conditions, are join'd to promote it, and when it becomes the care of united Nations.
Into the East, the first inquisitive Men amongst the Grecians travelled: By what they observed there, they ripened their own imperfect Conceptions, and so returned to teach them at home. And that they might the better insinuate their Opinions into their Hearers Minds, they set them off with the Mixture of Fables and the Ornaments of Fancy. Hence it came to pass, that the first Masters of Knowledge amongst them, were as well Poets, as Philosophers; for Orpheus, Linus, Musæus, and Homer, first softned Men's natural Rudeness; and by the Charms of their Numbers, allur'd them to be instructed by the severer Doctrines of Solon, Thales, and Pythagoras. This was a Course, that was useful at first, when Men were to be delightfully deceiv'd to their own Good: But perhaps it left some ill Influence, on the whole Philosophy of their Successors; and gave the Grecians occasion ever after of exercising their Wit, and their Imagination, about the Works of Nature, more then was consistent with a sincere Inquiry into them.
Sect. IV. The Philosophy of Greece.When the fabulous Age was past: Philosophy took a little more Courage; and ventured more to rely upon its own Strength, without the Assistance of Poetry. Now they began to gather into Assemblies, and to increase their Interest: and according to the different Temper of the Grecians, from the Eastern Nations, so were their Arts propagated in a different Way from theirs. The Greeks, being of a vigorous, and active Humour, establish'd their ​ in the Walks, and Porches, and Gardens, and such publick places about their Cities; whereas the graver and more reserv'd Ægyptians, had confin'd it to their Temples.
In Greece, the most considerable (and indeed almost the only successful) Trials, that were made in this way, were at Athens; the Wit of whose Inhabitants, was, 'tis true, admirably fit for the reducing of Philosophy into Method, and for the adorning of it with the noblest Words, when once it had been before compleated in its Substance: But yet their Genius was not so well made, for the undergoing the first Drudgery and Burden of Observation which is needful for the Beginning of so difficult a Work. This will appear, if we remember, that they were the Masters of the Arts of Speaking to all their Neighbours; and so might well be inclin'd, rather to chuse such Opinions of Nature, which they might most elegantly express, than such, which were more useful, but could not so well be illustrated by the Ornaments of Speech. Besides this, their City was the general School, and Seat of Education; and therefore the Epitomes of Knowledge best served their turn, to make their Scholars, in a short time, finish the course of their Studies, and go home satisfied with a Belief of their own Proficience, and their Teacher's Wisdom. They were also commonly (as most of the other Grecians) Men of hot, earnest, and hasty Minds; and so lov'd rather to make sudden Conclusions, and to convince their Hearers by Argument, than to delay long, before they fixt their Judgments; or to attend with sufficient Patience the Labour of Experiments. But to say no more, they had but a narrow Territory; and the ​on of those times, would not allow a very large Commerce with foreign Nations: they were much exercis'd in the civil Affairs of their Country: they had almost a perpetual War at home, or abroad: which Kinds of busie and active Life breed Men up indeed for great Employments: but not so well for the diligent, private, and severe Examination of those little and almost infinite Curiosities, on which the true Philosophy must be founded.
Sect. V. The Original of the Philosophical Sects.In that City therefore, the Knowledge of Nature had its Original, before either that of Discourse, or of human Actions; but it was quickly forc'd to give way to them both: For it was not yet come to a sufficient Ripeness, in the time of Socrates; and he, by the Authority of his admirable Wit, made all parts of Philosophy to be taken off from a Condition of encreasing much farther, that they might be immediately serviceable to the Affairs of Men, and the Uses of Life. He was one of the first Men, that began to draw into some Order, the confus'd and obscure Imaginations of those that went before him: and to make way for the composing of Arts, out of their scattered Observations. All these various Subjects, the Vastness of his Soul comprehended in his casual Disputations: but after his Death they were divided amongst his Followers, according to their several Inclinations. From him most of the succeeding Sects descended: and though every one of them had its different Principles and Rendezvouses; yet they all laid claim to this one common Title of being his Disciples. By this means, there was a most specious Appearance of the Increase of Learning: all places were fill'd with Philosophical ​Disputes: Controversies were rais'd: Fashions were made: Many Subtilities of confuting, and defending, were invented: But so instead of joining all their Strength to overcome the Secrets of Nature (all which would have been little enough, though ever so wisely manag'd) they only did that, which has undone many such great Attempts; before they had yet fully conquer'd her, they fell into an open Dissension, to which of them her Spoils did belong.
'Tis true, at the same time, some few Men did continue an earnest, and laborious Pursuit, after natural Causes, and Effects; and took that Course, which, if it had met with as much Encouragement, as the others had, would without question have produced extraordinary Things. But these Philosophers digging deep out of the sight of Men; and studying more, how to conceive Things aright, than how to set off, and persuade their Conceptions, to others; were quickly almost quite overwhelm'd, by the more plausible and talkative Sects.
Sect. VI The Philosophy amongst the Romans. This was the success of that famous Age of the Grecian Learning, in respect of natural Knowledge. They stay'd not for an Information sufficient for such a noble Enterprize: They would not suffer their Posterity to have any Share with them, in the Honour of performing it: But too suddenly, for present Use, they clap'd up an entire Building of Sciences: And therefore it is not to be wonder'd, if the hasty Fabrick, which they rais'd, did not consist of the best Materials.
But at last with their Empire, their Arts also were transported to Rome: The great Spirit of their Law-givers, and Philosophers, in Course of Time, ​xxxxnerating into Rhetoricians, and wandring Teachers of the Opinions of their private Sects. Amongst the Romans, the Studies of Nature met with little, or no Entertainment. They scarce ever dream'd of any other Way of Philosophy, than only just reducing into new Method, and eloquently translating into their own Language, the Doctrines, which they had received from the Greeks. And it was a long time too, before even that could obtain any Countenance amongst them. For, in the first warlike and busy Ages of that State, they only apply 'd themselves to a Severity of moral Virtue; endeavour'd after no other Skill, than that of the Customs, and Laws of their Country, the Ceremonies of their Religion, and the Arts of Government: Esteeming every Thing that came out of Greece, as an out-landish Fashion, which would corrupt the Manners of their Youth; and allure them, from that Strictness of Discipline, and Integrity of Life, by which they had inlarg'd the Bounds of their Common-wealth: 'Till at length their Power being increas'd, and their Minds a little softned by the Greatness of their Commands, and having tasted of the Pleasures of the East; they were content too, by degrees, to admit their Philosophy. And yet all the Use, that they made of it at law, was only, either that they might thereby make their Speech more plentiful; or else, that when they were at leisure from civil Affairs, they might have that as a Companion, and Comfort of their Retirements.
Sect. VII. The Philosophy of the Primitive Church.This was the Condition of Philosophy, when the Christian Religion came into the World. That maintain'd it self in its first Age, by the Innocence, and ​Miracles, and Sufferings of its Founder, and his Apostles. But after their Deaths, when Christianity began to spread into the farthest Nations, and when the Power of working Wonders had ceas'd: It was thought necessary for its Increase, that its Professors should be able to defend it, against the Subtilities of the Heathens; by those same ways of Arguing, which were then in use, among the Heathen Philosophers. It was therefore on this Account, that the Fathers, and chief Doctors of our Church, apply'd themselves to the Peripatetick, and Platonick Sects; but chiefly to the Platonick: Because that seem'd to speak plainer about the Divine Nature; and also, because the Sweetness, and Powerfulness of Plato's Writings, did serve as well to make them popular Speakers, as Disputers. Having thus provided themselves against their Adversaries, they easily got the Victory over them: And though the idolatrous Gentiles had kept the Instruments of disputing, in their own Hands, Ib many hundred Years; yet they soon convinced them of the Ridiculousness of their Worship, and the Purity, and the Reasonableness of ours.
But now the Christians having had so good Success, against the Religions of the Heathens, by their own Weapons; instead of laying them down when they had done, unfortunately fell to manage them one against another. So many subtle Brains having been set on work, and warm'd against a foreign Enemy: When that was over, and they had nothing else to do (like an Army that returns victorious, and is not presently disbanded) they began to spoil, and quarrel amongst themselves. Hence that Religion, which at full appeared so innocent, and peaceable, ​and fitted for the Benefit of human Society; which consisted in the plain, and direct Rules, of good Life, and Charity, and the Belief in a Redemption by one Saviour, was miserably divided into a thousand intricate Questions, which neither advance true Piety, nor good Manners. Hence arose all the Heresies of those times. Against these, besides the force of Disputation, the Church obtain'd the Arm of the Civil Magistrate: and so at last by the help of many General Councils, got them extinguish'd; if I may say they were extinguish'd, seeing in this Age wherein we live, we have seen most of them unhappily revived. But still by this means, there was no Knowledge in Request, but the Disputative Philosophy. For while things were in this posture, and so many great Wits ingag'd in the heats of Controversy: it was not to be expected, that they should look out for farther assistance, than the Arts, which were already prepar'd; or that they should make any considerable Indeavours, about new Inventions, and the tedious Trial of Experiments. Nor can we much blame them for it: seeing in a time of War, every Man will rather match up that Armour which he finds ready made, than stay till Men go to the Mine, and dig out new Ore, and refine, and harden it a better way; in hope to have his Weapons of a stronger, and nobler Metal at last.
Nor was that Age unfit for such an Enterprize, only on the Account of these Wars of the Tongue: But also by Reason of the miserable Distempers of the civil Affairs of the World, about that time: which were chiefly occasion'd by the Roman Army's usurping the Right of chusing Emperors, and by the Invasions of Barbarous Nations, which overwhelm'd the greatest Part of Europe, Amidst these Distractions, ​it was impossible for any thing of this Nature to have prosper'd: And in so vast an Inundation of Ignorance, which carry'd away with it the very grown and aged Trees themselves (those Parts of Learning which had taken Root, so many Generations past) it would have been in vain, to have committed any new Plants to the Ground. Such Studies as these, as they must receive Encouragement from the Sovereign Authority, so they must come up in a peaceful Time, when Men's Minds are at Ease, and their Imaginations not disturb'd, with the Cares of preserving their Lives, and Fortunes.
Sect. VIII. The Philosophy under the Church of Rome.To go on therefore with the Matter of Fact: Having left that dismal bloody Age we come into a Course of Time, which was indeed far quieter: But it was like the Quiet of the Night, which is dark withal. The Bishops of Rome taking the Opportunity of the Decay of the Roman Empire, had wrested from it so many Privileges, as did at last wholly destroy it: And while it was gasping for Life, forc'd it to make what Will and Testament they pleas'd. Being thus establish'd, and making Rome, whose Name was still venerable, the Seat of their Dominion, they soon obtained a Supremacy over the Western World. Under them for a long Space together Men lay in a profound Sleep. Of the universal Ignorance of those Times, let it suffice to take the Testimony of William of Malmsbury, one of our ancient English Historians, who says, that even amongst the Priests themselves, he was a Miracle that could understand Latin. Thus they continued; till at last, that Church adopted, and cherish'd some of the Peripatetic Opinions, which the most ingenious of the Monks, ​Monks, in their solitary and idle Course of Life, had lighted upon. This Sect was excellently well made for their Turn. For by hovering so much, in general Terms, and Notions, it amus'd Men's Minds, in Things that had not much Difficulty: And so the Laity being kept blind, were forc'd in all Things to depend on the Lips of the Roman Clergy. From that time even down to the Reformation, the Gentlemen of all the these Countries, imploying themselves, chiefly in Arms and Adventures abroad: And the Books of the Ancients, being either destroy'd by the Goths, and Vandals; or those which escaped their Fury, lying cover'd with Dust in the Libraries of Monasteries; few or none regarded any of the Arts of Wit, and Reason, besides the Church-men.
This, I will take the Boldness to say, must needs be very injurious to the Increase of general Learning. For though I shall justly affirm to the Honour of that sacred Profession, that all Knowledge has been more search'd into, and promoted by them, than by any other Order of Men, even from the Egyptians Times, (whose Priests in good part invented, or at least preserv'd, the Learning of the East) down to our present Age: Yet I must also add, that whenever all the studious Spirits of a Nation, have been reduc'd within the Temple's Walls, that Time is naturally liable to this Danger, of having its Genius more intent, on the different Opinions in Religion, and the Rites of Worship, than on the Increase of any other Science. Of this I shall give two Instances: one, from the Ancients, the other, from our selves.
It is manifest, that amongst the Jews, all the Men of Letters still apply'd themselves to the understanding of their Law: that being the publick Way ​of Preferment, to the highest Places of Judicature and Authority in the State. For that many Fraternities were erected, and (as I may call them) Judaical Monasteries constituted. Hence came all the Interpretations on the Writings of their great Law-giver: Which at last grew so numerous, and various amongst themselves, that Christ, when he came, could hardly find any thing of Moses his Mind, in all they had writ: But performed more himself towards the Explanation of the Law in two Chapters, than they had done in all their infinite Volumes. But while they were so excessively busy, about such sorts of Contemplations, the other Parts of Learning were neglected: Little or no Footsteps of Philosophy remaining amongst them, except only the Memory of that History of Plants, which was not written by any of Aaron's Family, but by their wisest King.
Sect. IX. The Philosophy of the School-men.But my other Instance comes nearer home, and it is of the School-men. Whose Works when I consider, it puts into my Thoughts, how far more importantly a good Method of Thinking, and a right Course of apprehending Things, does contribute towards the attaining of Perfection in true Knowledge, than the strongest, and most vigorous Wit in the World, can do without them. It cannot without Injustice be deny'd, that they were Men of extraordinary Strength of Mind: They had a great Quickness of Imagination, and Subtility of distinguishing: They very well understood the Consequence of Propositions: Their natural Endowments were excellent: Their Industry commendable: But they lighted on a wrong Path at first, and wanted Matter to contrive: And so, like the Indians, only express'd a wonderful ​Artifice, in the ordering of the same Feathers into a thousand Varieties of Figures. I will not insist long on the Barbarousness of their Stile; though that too must justly be censur'd: For all the ancient Philosophers, though they labour'd not to be full and adorn'd in their Speech, yet they always strove to be easy, natural, and unaffected. Plato was allow'd by all to be the chief Master of Speaking, as well as of Thinking. And even Aristotle himself, whom alone these Men ador'd, however he has been since us'd by his Commentators, was so careful about his Words, that he was esteem'd one of the purest, and most polite Writers of his Time. But the want of good Language, not being the School-men's worst defect, I shall pass it over, and rather slop a little, to examine the Matter it self, and Order in which they proceeded.
The Subjects about which they were most conversant, were either some of those Arts, which Aristotle had drawn into Method, or the more speculative Parts of our Divinity. These they commonly handled after this Fashion. They began with some general Definitions of the Things themselves, according to their universal Natures, then divided them into their Parts, and drew them out into several Propositions, which they laid down as Problems: These they controverted on both sides; and by many Niceties of Arguments, and Citations of Authorities, confuted their Adversaries, and strengthned their own Dictates. But though this notional War had been carry'd on with far more Care, and Calmness amongst them, than it was: Yet it was never able to do any great Good towards the Enlargement of Knowledge; because it rely'd on general Terms, ​which had not much Foundation in Nature, and also because they took no other Course, but that of Disputing.
That this insisting altogether on establish'd Axioms, is not the most useful Way, is not only clear in such airy Conceptions, which they managed; but also in those Things, which lye before every Man's observation, which belong to the Life and Passions, and Manners of Men; which, one would think, might be sooner reduc'd into standing Rules. As for example; to make a prudent Man in the Affairs of State, it is not enough to be well vers'd in all the Conclusions, which all the Politicians in the World have devis'd, or to be expert in the Nature of Government and Laws, Obedience and Rebellion, Peace and War: Nay rather a Man that relies altogether on such universal Precepts, is almost certain to miscarry. But there must be a Sagacity of Judgment in particular Things; a Dexterity in discerning the Advantages of Occasions; a Study of the Humour, and Interest of the People he is to govern: The same is to be found in Philosophy; a thousand fine Argumentations, and Fabricks in the Mind, concerning the Nature of Body, Quantity, Motion, and the like, if they only hover a-loof, and are not squar'd to particular Matters, they may give an empty Satisfaction, but no Benefit, and rather serve to swell, than fill the Soul.
But besides this, the very way of Disputing itself, and inferring one Thing from another alone, is not at all proper for the spreading of Knowledge. It serves admirably well indeed, in those Arts, where the Connection between the Propositions is necessary, as in the Mathematicks, in which a long Train of Demonstrations, may be truly collected, from the certainty of ​the first Foundation: But in things of probability only, it seldom or never happens, that after some little Progress, the main Subject is not left, and the Contenders fall not into other Matters, that are nothing to the Purpose: For if but one Link in the whole Chain be loose, they wander far away, and seldom or never recover their first Ground again. In brief, Disputing is a very good Instrument to sharpen Men's Wits, and to make them versatile, and wary Defenders of the Principles, which they already know: but it can never much augment the solid Substance of Science itself: And methinks compared to Experimenting, it is like Exercise to the Body in Companion of Meat: For Running, Walking, Wrestling, Shooting, and other such active Sports, will keep Men in Health, and Breath, and a vigorous Temper: but it must be a supply of new Food that must make them grow: so it is in this Case; much Contention, and Strife of Argument, will serve well to explain obscure things, and strengthen the weak, and give a good, sound, masculine Colour, to the whole Mass of Knowledge: But it must be a continued addition of Observations, which must nourish, and increase and give new Blood, and Flesh, to the Arts themselves.
But this has been only hitherto spoken, against the Method of the School-men in general; on supposition, that they took the best Course, that could be in that Kind. I shall now come to weigh that too. For it may easily be prov'd, that those very Theories, on which they built all their subtile Webs, were not at all collected, by a sufficient Information from the things themselves; which if it can be made out, I hope it will be granted, that the Force and Vigour of their Wit did more hurt, than good: and ​only serv'd to carry them the faster out of the right Way, when they were once going. The Peripateticks themselves do all grant, that the first Rise of Knowledge must be from the Senses, and from an Induction of their Reports: Well then; how could the School-men be proper for such a Business, who were ty'd by their Cloystral Life to such a Strictness of Hours, and had seldom any larger Prospects of Nature, than the Gardens of their Monasteries? It is a common Observation, that Men's Studies are various according to the different Courses of Life, to which they apply themselves; or the Tempers of the Places, wherein they live. They who are bred up in Commonwealths, where the greatest Affairs are manag'd by the Violence of popular Assemblies, and those govern'd by the most plausible Speakers, busy themselves chiefly about Eloquence; they who follow a Court, especially intend the Ornament of Language, and Poetry, and such more delicate Arts, which are usually there in most Request: they who retire from human things, and shut themselves up in a narrow Compass, keeping Company with a very few, and that too in a solemn way, addict themselves, for the most part, to some melancholy Contemplations, or to Devotion, and the Thoughts of another World. That therefore which was fittest for the School-men's way of life, we will allow them: But what sorry Kinds of Philosophy must they needs produce, when it was a part of their Religion, to separate themselves, as much as they could, from the Converse of Mankind? when they were so far from being able to discover the Secrets of Nature, that they had scarce Opportunity, to behold enough of its common Works. If any shall be inclinable to ​follow the Directions of such Men in natural Things, rather than of those, who make it their Employment; I shall believe they will be irrational enough, to think, that a Man may draw an exacter Description of England, who has never been here, than the most industrious Mr. Camden, who had travell'd over every Part of this Country, for that very Purpose.
Whoever shall soberly profess, to be willing to put their Shoulders under the Burthen of so great an Enterprize, as to represent to Mankind the whole Fabrick, the Parts, the Causes, the Effects of Nature, ought to have their Eyes in all Parts, and to receive Information from every Quarter of the Earth; they ought to have a constant universal Intelligence; all Discoveries should be brought to them; the Treasuries of all former Times should be laid open before them; the Assistance of the present should be allow'd them: So far are the narrow Conceptions of a few private Writers, in a dark Age, from being equal to so vast a Design. There are indeed some Operations of the Mind, which may be best performed by the simple Strength of Men's own particular Thoughts; such are Invention, and judgment, and Disposition: For in them a Security from Noise, leaves the Soul at more Liberty, to bring forth Order, and fashion the Heap of Matter, which had been before supply'd to its Use. But there are other Works also, which require as much Aid, and as many Hands, as can be found: And such is this of Observation; which is the great Foundation of Knowledge; some must gather, some must bring, some separate, some examine; and to use a Similitude, (which the present Time of the Year, and the ripe Fields, that lye ​before my Eyes, suggest to me) it is in Philosophy as in Husbandry; wherein we see, that a few Hands will serve to measure out, and fill into Sacks, that Corn, which requires very many more Labourers, to sow, and reap, and bind, and bring it into the Barn.
But now it is time for me to dismiss this subtile Generation of Writers; whom I would not have prosecuted so far, but that they are still esteem'd by some Men, the only Matters of Reason. If they would be content with any thing less than an Empire in Learning, we would grant them very much. We would permit them to be great and profound Wits, as Angelical, and Seraphical, as they pleas'd: we would commend them, as we are wont to do Chaucer; we would confess, that they are admirable in Comparison of the Ignorance of their own Age: And, as Sir Philip Sidney said of him, we would say of them; that it is to be wonder'd, how they could see so clearly then, and we can see no clearer now: But that they should still be set before us, as the great Oracles of ail Wit, we can never allow. Suppose, that I should grant, that they are most useful in the Controversies of our Church, to defend us against the Heresies, and: Schisms of our Times; what will thence follow, but that they ought to be confirm'd within their own Bounds, and not to be suffer'd to hinder the Enlargement of the Territories of other Sciences? Let them still prevail in the Schools, and let them govern in Disputations: But let them not over-spread all Sorts of Knowledge. That would be as ridiculous, as if, because we see, that Thorns, and Briers, by Reason of their Sharpness, are fit to stop a Gap, and keep out wild Beasts; we should therefore think, they deserv'd to be planted all over every Field. ​And yet I should not doubt, (if it were not somewhat improper to the present Discourse) to prove, that even in Divinity it self, they are not so necessary, as they are reputed to be: and that all, or most of our Religious Controversies, may be as well decided, by plain Reason, and by Considerations, which may be fetch'd from the Religion of Mankind, the Nature of Government, and human Society, and Scripture it self, as by the Multitudes of Authorities, and Subtleties of Disputes, which have been heretofore in Use.
Sect. X. The Restoration of Learning.And now I am come to the Time within our View and to the third great Age of the flourishing of Learning. Whether this Recovery of Knowledge did happen by the benefit of Printing, invented about that Time, which shew'd a very easy Way of communicating Men's Thoughts one to another; or whether it came from the Hatred, which was then generally conceiv'd against the Blindness, and Stupidity, of the Roman Fryars; or from the Reformation, which put Men upon a stricter Inquiry into the Truth of things; whatever the Cause was, I will not take much Pains to determine: but I will rather observe, what Kinds of Knowledge have most flourish'd upon it. If we compare this Age of Learning, with the two former; we shall find, that this does far exceed both the other in its Extent: there being a much larger Plat of Ground, sown with Arts and Civility at this time, than either when the Grecian or Roman Empires prevail'd. For then (especially under the Romans) so many Nations being united under one Dominion, and reduc'd into the Form of Provinces: that Knowledge which they had was chiefly confin'd ​to the Walls of the Imperial Cities themselves. But now (not to insist on the Learning of far remote Countries, of which we have only imperfect Relations; but to contract our Observation to Christendom alone) there being so many different States, and Governments in Europe, every Country sets up for itself: almost in every place, the liberal Arts (as they are call'd) are cherish'd, and publick Allowance is made for their Support. And in this Compass, the infinite Numbers of Wits, which have appear'd so thick for these many Years, have been chiefly taken up about some of these three Studies; either the Writings of the Antients, or Controversies of Religion or Affairs of State.
Sect. XI. The Recovery of the Antients.The first Thing that was undertaken, was to rescue the excellent Works of former Writers from Obscurity. To the better performing of this, many things contributed about that time. Amongst which as to us in England, I may reckon (and that too, it may be, not the least, whatever the Action was in itself, the Dissolution of Abbies: whereby their Libraries came forth into the Light, and fell into industrious Men's Hands, who understood how to make more Use of them, than their slothful Possessors had done. So that now the Greek and Latin Tongues began to be in Request; and all the ancient Authors, the Heathen Philosophers, Mathematicians, Orators, Historians, Poets, the various Copies, and Translations of the Bible, and the Primitive Fathers were produc'd. All these, by the several Transcriptions, and the Ignorance of the Transcribers, had very many different Readings, and many Parts wholly lost; and by the Distance of Times, and Change of Customs, ​were grown obscure. About the interpreting, explaining, supplying, commenting on these, almost all the first Wits were employed. A Work of great Use, and for which we ought to esteem our selves much beholden to them. For indeed, if they had not compleated that Business, to our Hands, we of this Age, had not been so much at Leisure, as now I hope we are, to prosecute new Inventions. If they had not done it, we should; of which we ought not to doubt, seeing we behold, that even now, when the Soil of Criticism is almost quite barren, and hardly another Crop will come, yet many learned Men cannot forbear spending their whole Labour in toyling about it; what then should we have done, if all those Books had come down untouch'd to our Hands?
We cannot then, with any Sobriety, detract from the Criticks, and Philologists, whose Labours we enjoy. But we ought rather to give them this Testimony, that they were Men of admirable Diligence: and that the Collections, which they have made, out of the Monuments of the Antients, will be wonderfully advantageous to us, if the right Use be made of them; if they be not set before us, only that we may spend our whole Lives in their Consideration, and to make the Course of Learning more difficult: But if they be imploy'd, to direct us in the Ways that we ought to proceed in Knowledge for the future; if by shewing us what has been already finish'd, they point out to us, the most probable Means, to accomplish what is behind. For methinks, that Wisdom, which they fetch'd from the Ashes of the Dead, is something of the same Nature with Ashes themselves; which, if they are kept up in Heaps together, ​will be useless: But if they are scattered upon living Ground, they will make it more fertile, in the bringing forth of various Sorts of Fruits. To these Men then we are beholden, that we have a fairer Prospect about us: to them we owe, that we are not ignorant of the times that are gone before us; which to be is (as Tully says) to be always Children. All this, and much more, is to be acknowledg'd: But then we shall also desire of them, that they would content themselves with what is their Due: that by what they have discover'd, amongst the Rubbish of the Antients, they would not contemn the Treasures, either lately found out, or still unknown; and that they would not prefer the Gold of Ophir, of which now there is no mention but in Books, before the present Mountains of the West Indies.
Sect. XII. Religious Controversies and Arts of the Moderns.Thus I pass over this Sort of reviv'd learning. And now there comes into our View another remarkable Occasion of the Hindrance of the Growth of experimental Philosophy, within the Compass of this bright Age; and that is the great a-do which has been made, in raising, and confirming, and refuting so many different Sects, and Opinions of the Christian Faith. For whatever other Hurt or Good comes by such holy speculative Wars (of which whether the Benefit or Mischief over-weighs, I will not now examine) yet certainly by this means, the Knowledge of Nature has been very much retarded. And (to use that Metaphor, which an excellent Poet of our Nation turns to another purpose) that Shower has done very much Injury by falling on the Sea, for which the Shepherd and the Plough-man call'd in vain: The Wit of Men has been profusely pour'd out ​on Religion, which needed not its help, and which was only thereby made more tempestuous; while it might have been more fruitfully spent, on some Parts of Philosophy, which have been hitherto barren, and might soon have been made fertile.
But besides this, there have been also several other Professions, which have drawn away the Inclinations of Men, from prosecuting the naked and uninterested Truth. And of these I shall chiefly name the Affairs of State, the Administration of civil Government, and the Execution of Laws. These by their fair Dowry of Gain and Honour, have always allur'd the greatest Part of the Men of Art, and Reason, to addict themselves to them: while the Search into severer Knowledge has been look'd on, as a Study out of the Way, fitter for a melancholy Humorist, or a retir'd weak Spirit, than to make Men equal to Business, or serviceable to their Country. And in this, methinks, the experimental Philosophy has met with very hard Usage. For it has commonly, in Men's Censures, undergone the Imputation of those very Faults, which it endeavours to correct in the verbal. That indeed may be justly condemn'd for filling Men's Thoughts with imaginary Ideas of Conceptions, that are no way answerable to the practical ends of Life: But this, on the other side, (as I shall shortly make out) is the surest Guide, against such notional Wandrings; opens our Eyes to perceive all the Realities of Things; and clears the Brain, not only from Darkness, but false or useless Light. This is certainly so in the Thing it self: But the greatest Part of Men have still apprehended the contrary. If they can bring such Inquirers under the scornful Titles of Philofophers, or Scholars, or Virtuosi, it is enough: They ​presently conclude them to be Men of another World, only fit Companions for the Shadow, and their own melancholy Whimsies; looking on those who dig in the Mine of Nature, to be in as bad a Condition, as the King of Spain's Slaves in Peru, condemn'd for ever to that Drudgery, and never to be redeem'd to any other Imployment. And is not this a very unequal Proceeding? While some over-zealous Divines do reprobate natural Philosophy as a carnal Knowledge, and a too much minding worldly Things, the Men of the World, and Business, on the other side, esteem it merely as an idle Matter of Fancy, and as that which disables us from taking right Measures in human Affairs. Thus, by the one Party, it is censur'd for stooping too low; by the other, for soaring too high: so that, methinks, it is a good Ground to conclude, that it is guilty of neither of these Faults, seeing it is alike condemn'd by both the Extremes. But I shall have a fitter Occasion to examine this hereafter. However it be, it is not to be wonder'd, if Men have not been very zealous about those Studies, which have been so far removed from present Benefit, and from the Applause of Men. For what should incite them to bestow their Time, and Art, in revealing to Mankind those Mysteries, for which, it may be, they would be only despis'd at last? How few must there needs be, who will be willing to be impoverish'd for the common Good, while they shall see all the Rewards, which might give Life to their Industry passing by them, and bestow'd on the Deserts of easier Studies? and while they, for all their Pains, and publick Spirit, shall only perhaps be served, as the poor Man was in the Fable; who, while he went down into the Well, in Assurance, ​that he should find a mighty Treasure there, was m the mean time robb'd by his Companions, that stay'd above, of his Cloak, and all the Booty that he had before gotten?
The Philosophy of the Moderns.And yet, notwithstanding all these unfortunate Hindrances, there have been many commendable Attempts in this way, in the Compass of our Memories, and the Age before us. And though they have been for the most part carry 'd on, by the private Diligence of some few Men, in the midst of a thousand Difficulties, yet it will not be unprofitable to recount some of them; if it were only to give a fair Ground of Hope, how much Progress may be made by a form'd and regular Assembly, seeing some single Hands, with so small Encouragement, could dispatch so much of the Work.
There are five new Ways of Philosophy, that come into my Observation.
Sect. XIII. Modern Dogmatists.The first is, of those, who, out of a just Disdain that the Antients should still possess a Tyranny over our Judgments, began first to put off the Reverence that Men had born to their Memories; and handling them more familiarly, made an exact Survey of their Imperfections: But then, having rejected them, they pursue their Success too far, and strait fell to form and impose new Theories on Men's Reason, with an Usurpation as great as that of the others: An Action, which we that live in this Age, may resemble to some things that we have seen acted on the Stage of the World: For we also have beheld the Pretenders to publick Liberty, turn the greatest Tyrants themselves. The first part of these Men's Performance is very much to be prais'd: They have made the ​Ground open and clear for us; they have remov'd the Rubbish; which, when one great Fabrick is to be pull'd down, and another to be erected in its stead, is always esteem'd well nigh half the whole Work: Their Adventure was bold, and hazardous: They touch'd Men's Minds in their tenderest Part, when they strove to pluck off those Opinions, which had, by long Custom, been so closely twin'd about them: They freed our Understandings from the Charms of vain Apparitions, and a Slavery to dead Men's Names. And we may well guess, that the absolute Perfection of the true Philosophy is not now far off, seeing this first great and necessary Preparation for its coming, is already taken off our Hands. For methinks there is an Agreement, between the Growth of Learning, and of Civil Government. The Method of the Rise and Increase of that, was this: At first in every country there prevailed nothing but Barbarism and Rudeness: All places were terrible with Giants, and Enchantments, and insolent Usurpers: Against these there first arose some mighty Heroes, as Hercules, Theseus, and Jason: These scowred the World, redress'd Injuries, destroy'd Monsters; and for this they were made Demi-gods. But then they gave over, and it was left to the great Men, who succeeded them, as Solon, and Lycurgus, to accomplish the Work, to found Common-wealths, to give Laws, to put Justice in its Course: And why may I not now presume, (as many others have done before me) to reduce these Stories to a philosophical Sense? First then, the Phantasms, and Fairies, and venerable Images of Antiquity, did long haunt the World; against these we have had our Champions; and without all question, they had the better of the ​Cause; and now we have good Ground to trust, that these Illusions being well over, the last finishing of this great Work is nigh at Hand, and is reserv'd for this Undertaking.
So then, thus far they did well. But in the second Part of their Enterprize, they themselves seem to me to have run into the same Mistake, for which we chiefly complain'd against those Antients, whole Authority they destroy'd. The greatest occasion of our dissenting from the Greek Philosophers, and especially from Aristotle, was, that they made too much Haste to seize on the Prize, before they were at the End of the Race, that they fix'd and determin'd their Judgments on general Conclusions too soon, and so could not afterwards alter them, by any new Appearances, which might represent themselves. And may not we suppose, that Posterity will have the same Quarrel at these Men's Labours? We do not fall foul upon Antiquity, out of any Singularity of Opinion, or a presumptuous Confidence of the Strength of our Wits above theirs; we admire the Men, but only dislike the Method of their Proceedings. And can we forbear murmuring, if we see our Cotemporaries disdain them, and yet imitate their Failings? If we must constitute a Sovereignty over our Reasons; I know not why we should not allow this Dominion to the Antients, rather than to any one of the Moderns. They are all dead long since; and though we should be over-reach'd by them in some few Falsehoods, yet there is no Danger, lest they should increase them upon us; whereas, if we once hang on the Lips of the wisest Men now living; we are still in their Power, and under their Discipline, and subject to be led by all their Dictates for the future. It ​is true indeed, a diligent Inquirer of these Times may gather as much Experience, and in probability, conclude as rightly, as a whole Academy, or Sect of theirs could; yet I shall still deny, that any one Man, though he has the nimblest, and most universal Observation, can ever, in the Compass of his Life, lay up enough Knowledge, to suffice all that shall come after him to rest upon, without the Help of any new Inquiries.
And if we suppose the best, that some one Man, by wonderful Sagacity, or extraordinary Chance, shall light upon the true Principles of natural Philosophy; yet what will be the Profit of such universal Demonstrations, if they are only fitted for Talk, and the solving of Appearances? Will there be any great Matter, whether they are certain, or doubtful; old or new; if they must be only bounded to a System, and confin'd to Discourse? The true Philosophy must be first of all begun, on a scrupulous, and severe Examination of Particulars: from them there may be some general Rules with great Caution drawn: But it must not rest there, nor is that the most difficult Part of its Course. It must advance those Principles, to the finding out of new Effects, through all the Varieties of Matter; and so both the Courses must proceed orderly together; from experimenting to demonstrating, and from demonstrating to experimenting again. I hope I shall content my Reader, if I only give one Instance in this Case. It is probable, that he who first discover'd, that all Things were order'd in Nature by Motion; went upon a better Ground, than any before him. But now if he will only manage this, by nicely disputing about the Nature, and Causes of ​Motion in general, and not prosecute it through all particular Bodies; to what will he at last arrive, But only to a better Sort of Metaphysicks? And it may be, his Followers, some Ages hence, will divide his Doctrine into as many Distinctions, as the School-men did that of Matter and Form; and so the whole Life of it will also vanish away into Air and Words, as that of theirs has already done.
Sect. XIV. The ill effects of dogmatical Philosophy. But it is time for me to give over this Argument; in which, I fear, that what I have already said, will alarm some excellent Men, whose Abilities I admire; who may perhaps suspect, that it has been with a particular Reflection. I might say for my self, that first they must pass Sentence on themselves, before they can think so, seeing I have nam'd no Man. But I will rather sincerely profess, that I had no satyrical Sense, but only declar'd against Dogmatists in general. And I cannot repent my having done it, while I perceive there are two very dangerous Mischiefs, which are caus'd by that way of Philosophy. The one is, that it makes Men give over, and believe that they are satisfy'd, too soon. This is of very ill Consequence; for thereby Men's Industry will be slackned, and all the Motives to any farther Pursuit taken away. And indeed this is an Error, which is very natural to Men's Minds; they love not a long and a tedious Doubting, though it brings them at last to a real Certainty; but they choose rather to conclude presently, than to be long in Suspence, though to better purpose. And it is with most Men's Understandings, as with their Eyes; to which those seem more delightful Prospects, where Varieties of Hills and Woods do soon bound their Wandrings, than where there is one ​large smooth Champagn, over which they may see much farther, but where there is nothing to delay, and stop, and divert the Sight.
But the other ill Effect, of which I shall take notice, is, that it commonly inclines such Men, who think themselves already resolved, and immoveable in their Opinions, to be more imperious, and impatient of Contradiction, than becomes the Calmness, and unpassionate Evenness of the true philosophical Spirit. It makes them prone to undervalue other Mens Labours, and to neglect the real Advantage, that may be gotten by their Assistance; lest they should seem to darken their own Glory. This is a Temper of Mind of all others the most pernicious; to which I may chiefly attribute the Slowness of the Increase of Knowledge amongst Men. For what great Things can be expected, if Mens Understandings shall be as it were always in the warlike State of Nature, one against another? If every one be jealous of another's Inventions, and still ready to put a Stop to his Conquests? Will there not be the same wild Condition in Learning, which had been amongst Men, if they had always been dispers'd, still preying upon and spoiling their Neighbours? If that had still continued, no Cities had been built, no Trades found out, no Civility taught: For all these noble Productions came from Men's joining in Compacts, and entring into Society. It is an usual saying, that where the natural Philosopher ends, the Physician must begin: And I will also add,, that the natural Philosopher is to begin, where the moral ends. It is requisite, that he who goes about such an Undertaking, should first know himself, should be well practis'd in all the modest, humble, friendly Virtues; should be willing ​to be taught, and to give way to the Judgment of others. And I dare boldly say, that a plain industrious Man, so prepar'd, is more likely to make a good Philosopher, than all the high, earnest, insulting Wits, who can bear neither Partnership, nor Opposition. The Chymists lay it down, as a necessary Qualification of their happy Man, to whom God will reveal their ador'd Elixir, that he must be rather innocent, and virtuous, than knowing. And if I were to form the Character of a true Philosopher, I would be sure to make that the Foundation: Not that I believe, God will bestow any extraordinary Light in Nature, on such Men more than others; but upon a bare rational Account: For certainly, such Men, whose Minds are so soft, so yielding, so complying, so large, are in a far better Way, than the bold and haughty Asserters: they will pass by nothing, by which they may learn; they will be always ready to receive, and communicate Observations; they will not contemn the Fruits of others Diligence; they will rejoice to see Mankind benefited, whether it be by themselves or others.
Sect. XV. The Revivers of the Ancient Sects.The second Endeavours have been of those, who renounc'd the Authority of Aristotle; but then restor'd some one or other of the Ancient Sects in his stead. If such Mens Intentions were only, that we might have before us the Conceptions of several Men of different Ages, upon the Works of Nature, without obliging us to an implicit Consent to all that they affirm; then their Labours ought to be receiv'd with great Acknowledgments: For such a general Prospect will very much inlarge, and guide our Inquiry; and perhaps also will help to hinder the Age ​from ever falling back again into a Subjection to one usurping Philosopher. But if their Purpose was, to erect those Schools which they reviv'd, into as absolute a Power, as the Peripateticks had heretofore; if they strive to make a Competition between Aristotle and Epicurus, or Democritus, or Philolaus; they do not contribute very much, towards the main Design: For towards that, it is not enough, that the Tyrant be chang'd; but the Tyranny it self must be wholly taken away.
Sect. XVI. Modern experimenters.The third Sort of new Philosophers have been those, who have not only disagreed from the Ancients, but have also propos'd to themselves the rig Course of flow and sure Experimenting; and have prosecuted it as far, as the Shortness of their own Lives, or the Multiplicity of their other Affairs, or the Narrowness of their Fortunes, have given them leave. Such as these we are to expect to be but few; for they must divest themselves of many vain Conceptions, and overcome a thousand false Images, which lye like Monsters in their Way, before they can get as far as this. And of these, I shall only mention one great Man, who had the true Imagination of the whole Extent of this Enterprise, as it is now set on foot; and that is, the Lord Bacon; in whose Books there are every where scattered the best Arguments, that can be produced for the Defence of experimental Philosophy, and the best Directions, that are needful to promote it: All which he has already adorn'd with so much Art; that if my Desires could have prevailed with some excellent Friends of mine, who engag'd me to this Work, there should have been no other Preface to the History of the Royal ​Society, but some of his Writings. But methinks, in this one Man, I do at once find enough Occasion, to admire the Strength of human Wit, and to bewail the Weakness of a mortal Condition. For is it not wonderful, that he, who had run through all the Degrees of that Profession, which usually takes up Men's whole Time; who had studied, and practis'd, and govern'd the common Law; who had always liv'd in the Crowd, and born the greatest Burden of civil Business; should yet find Leisure enough for these retir'd Studies, to excel all those Men, who separate themselves for this very purpose? He was a Man of strong, clear, and powerful Imaginations; his Genius was searching and inimitable; and of this I need give no other Proof than his Style it self; which as, for the most part, it describes Men's Minds, as well as Pictures do their Bodies, so did his above all Men living. The Course of it vigorous, and majestical; the Wit bold, and familiar; the Companions fetch'd out of the Way, and yet the more easy: In all expressing a Soul, equally skill'd in Men, and Nature. All this and much more is true of him; but yet his Philosophical Works do shew, that a single and busy Hand can never grasp all this whole Design, of which we treat. His Rules were admirable; yet his History not so faithful, as might have been wish'd, in many Places; he seems rather to take all that comes, than to choose, and to heap, rather than to register. But I hope this Accusation of mine can be no great Injury to his Memory; seeing, at the same time, that I say he had not the Strength of a thousand Men, I do also allow him to have had as much as twenty.
​Sect. XVII. The Chymists.The next Philosophers, whom I shall touch upon, are the Chymists, who have been more numerous, in this latter Age, than ever before. And without question, they have lighted upon the right Instrument of great Productions and Alterations; which must for the most part be perform'd by Fire. They may be divided into three Ranks: Such, as look after the Knowledge of Nature in general; such, as seek out, and prepare Medicines; and such, as search after Riches, by Transmutations, and the great Elixir. The two first have been very successful, in separating, compounding, and changing the Parts of Things; and in shewing the admirable Powers of Nature, in the raising of new Consistencies, Figures, Colours, and Virtues of Bodies: And from their Labours, the true Philosophy is like to receive the noblest Improvements. But the Pretentions of the third Kind are, not only to indow us with all the Benefits of this Life, but with Immortality it self: And their Success has been as small, as their Design was extravagant. Their Writers involve them in such Darkness; that I scarce know, which was the greatest Task, to understand their Meaning, or to effect it. And in the Chase of the Philosopher's Stone, they are so earnest, that they are scarce capable of any other Thoughts; so that if an Experiment lye ever so little out of their Road, it is free from their Discovery; as I have heard of some Creatures in Africk, which still going a violent Pace strait on, and not being able to turn themselves, can never get any Prey, but what they meet just in their Way. This Secret they prosecute so impetuously, that they believe they see some Footsteps of it, in every Line of Moses, Solomon, or Virgil. The Truth is, they are downright Enthusiasts ​about it. And feeing we cast Enthusiasm out of Divinity it self, we shall hardly sure be persuaded, to admit it into Philosophy. It were perhaps a vain Attempt, to try to cure such Men of their groundless Hopes. It may be they are happier now, as they are: And they would only cry out with the Man in Horace, that their Friends, who had restor'd them to a perfect Sense, had murder'd them. But certainly, if they could be brought to content themselves with moderate Things, to grow rich by Degrees, and not to imagine, they shall gain the Indies out of every Crucible; there might be wonderful Things expected from them. And of this we have good assurance, by what is come abroad from diverse eminent Persons; amongst whom some are Members of the Royal Society. And, if it were not already excellently perform'd by others, I might here speak largely, of the Advantages that accrue to Physick, by the industrious Labours of such Chymists, as have only the discreet, and sober Flame, and not the wild Lightning of the others Brains.
Sect. XVIII. Those that have handled particular Subjects.But the last Kind, that I shall name, has been of those, who conscious of human Frailty, and of the Vastness of the Design of an universal Philosophy, have separated, and chosen out for themselves, some particular Subjects, about which to bestow their Diligence. In these, there was less Hazard of Failing; these by one Man's Industry, and constant Indeavours, might probably at last be overcome: And indeed they have generally reap'd the Fruits of their Modesty. I have but one thing to except against some few of them; that they have been sometimes a little too forward to conclude upon Axioms, from what ​they have found out, in some particular Body. But that is a Fault, which ought to be overwhelm'd by their other Praises: And I shall boldly affirm, that if all other Philosophical Matters had been as well and as throughly sifted, as some admirable Men of this Age have manag'd some parts of Astronomy, Geometry, Anatomy, &c. there would scarce any Burden have remained on the Shoulders of our Posterity; but they might have sat quietly down, and injoy'd the Pleasure of the true Speculative Philosophy, and the Profit of the Practical.
To all these Proceedings, that I have mention'd there is as much Honour to be paid, as can be due to any one single human Wit: But they must pardon us, if we still prefer the joint Force of many Men.
Sect. XIX. Modern Academies for Language.And now it is much to be wondred, that there was never yet such an Assembly erected, which might proceed on some standing Constitutions of Experimenting. There have, 'tis true, of late, in many Parts of Europe, some Gentlemen met together, submitted to common Laws, and form'd themselves into Academies: But it has been, for the most Part, to a far different Purpose; and most of them only aim'd at the smoothing of their Style, and the Language of their Country. Of these, the first arose in Italy: where they have since so much abounded, that there was scarce any one great City without one of these Combinations. But that, which excell'd all the other, and kept it self longer untainted from the Corruptions of Speech, was the French Academy at Paris. This was compos'd of the noblest Authors of that Nation; and had for its Founder, the Great Cardinal de Richelieu: who, amongst all his Cares, whereby he ​establish'd and enlarg'd that Monarchy so much, did often refresh himself by directing, and taking an Account of their Progress. And indeed in his own Life he found so great Success of this Institution, that he saw the French Tongue abundantly purified, and beginning to take place in the Western World, almost as much as the Greek did of old, when it was the Language of Merchants, Soldiers, Courtiers, and Travellers. But I shall say no more of this Academy, that I may not deprive my Reader of the Delight of perusing their own History, written by Monsieur de Pelisson; which is so masculine, so chastly, and so unaffectedly done, that I can hardly forbear envying the French Nation this Honour; that while the English Royal Society has so much out-gone their Illustrious Academy, in the Greatness of its Undertaking, it should be so far short of them in the Abilities of its Historian. I have only this to alledge in my Excuse; that as they undertook the Advancement of the Elegance of Speech, so it became their History to have some Resemblance to their Enterprize: Whereas the Intention of ours being not the Artifice of Words, but a bare Knowledge of Things; my Fault may be esteem'd the less, that I have written of Philosophers without any Ornament of Eloquence.
Sect. XX. A Proposal for erecting an English Academy.I hope now it will not be thought a vain Digression, if I step a little aside, to recommend the forming of such an Assembly to the Gentlemen of our Nation. I know indeed, that the English Genius is not so airy and discursive, as that of some of our Neighbours, but that we generally love to have Reason set out in plain undeceiving Expressions; as much as they to have it deliver'd with Colour and Beauty. And ​besides this, I understand well enough, that they have one great Assistance to the Growth of Oratory, which to us is wanting: that is. that their Nobility live commonly close together in their Cities, and ours for the most part scattered in their Country Houses. For the same reason, why our Streets are not so well built as theirs, will hold also, for their exceeding us in the Arts of Speech: They prefer the Pleasures of the Town, we those of the Field; whereas it is from the frequent Conversations in Cities, that the Humour, and Wit, and Variety, and Elegance of Language, are chiefly to be fetch'd. But yet, notwithstanding these Discouragements, I shall not stick to say, that such a Project is now seasonable to be set on foot, and may make a great Reformation in the manner of our Speaking and Writing. First, the Thing itself is no way contemptible: For the Purity of Speech, and Greatness of Empire have, in all Countries, still met together. The Greeks spake best, when they were in their Glory of Conquest. The Romans made those Times the Standard of their Wit, when they subdued, and gave Laws to the World: And from thence, by degrees, they declin'd to Corruption, as their Valour, their Prudence, and the Honour of their Arms did decay; and at last, did even meet the Northern Nations halfway in Barbarism, a little before they were overrun by their Armies.
But besides, if we observe well the English Language, we shall find, that it seems at this time, more than others, to require some such Aid, to bring it to its last Perfection. The Truth is, it has been hitherto a little too carelessy handled; and, I think, has had less Labour spent about its polishing than it ​deserves. Till the time of King Henry the Eighth, there was scarce any Man regarded it, but Chaucer; and nothing was written in it, which one would be willing to read twice, but some of his Poetry. But then it began to raise itself a little, and to sound tolerably well. From that Age, down to the beginning of our late Civil Wars, it was still fashioning, and beautifying itself. In the Wars themselves, which is a time wherein all Languages use, if ever, to increase by extraordinary degrees, (for in such busie and active times, there arise more new Thoughts of Men, which must be signified, and varied by new Expressions) then, I say, it receiv'd many fantastical Terms, which were introduc'd by our Religious Sects; and many outlandish Phrases, which several Writers, and Translators, in that great Hurry, brought in, and made free as they pleas'd, and withal it was inlarg'd by many sound and necessary Forms and Idioms, which it before wanted. And now, when Men's Minds are somewhat settled, their Passions allay'd, and the peace of our Country gives us the Opportunity of such Diversions; if some sober and judicious Men would take the whole Mass of our Language into their Hands, as they find it, and would let a Mark on the ill Words, correct those which are to be retain'd, admit and establish the good, and make some Emendations in the Accent and Grammar: I dare pronounce, that our Speech would quickly arrive at as much Plenty, as it is capable to receive; and at the greatest Smoothness, which its Derivation from the rough German will allow it.
Nor would I have this new English Academy confin'd only to the weighing Words and Letters; but there may be also greater Works found out for it. By ​many Signs we may guess, that the Wits of our Nation are not inferior to any other; and that they have an excellent Mixture of the Spirit of the French and the Spaniard: and I am confident, that we only want a few more standing Examples, and a little more Familiarity with the Antients to excell all the Moderns. Now the best Means that can be devis'd to bring that about, is to settle a fixt and impartial Court of Eloquence, according to whose Censure, all Books, or Authors, should either stand or fall. And above ail, there might be recommended to them one principal Work, in which we are yet defective; and that is, the compiling of a History of our late Civil Wars. Of all the Labours of Men's Wit and Industry, I scarce know any that can be more useful to the World than Civil History; if it were written, with that Sincerity and Majesty, as it ought to be, as a faithful Idea of human Actions. And it is observable, that almost in all civilis'd Countries, it has been the last thing, that has come to Perfection. I may now say, that the English can already shew many industrious and worthy Pieces in this kind: But yet, I have some prophetical Imagination in my Thoughts, that there is still behind something greater than any we have yet seen, reserv'd for the Glory of this Age. One Reason of this my strong Persuasion is a Comparison, that I make, between the Condition of our State, and that of the Romans. They at first wrote, in this way, not much better than our Monks: only registring, in an undigested manner, some few naked Breviaries of their Wars, and Leagues, and Acts of their City Magistrates. And indeed they advanc'd forward by very slow Degrees: For I remember, that Tully somewhere complains, in these ​Words: Historia nondum Latinis Literis illustrata. But it was the peaceful Reign of Augustus, after the Conclusion of their long Civil Wars, the most of their perfect Historians appear'd. And it seems to me, that we may expect the same Progress amongst us. There lye now ready in Bank the most memorable Actions of twenty Years; a Subject of as great Dignity and Variety, as ever pass'd under any Man's Hands; the Peace which we enjoy, gives Leisure and Encouragement enough; the Effects of such a Work would be wonderfully advantageous to the Safety of our Country, and to His Majesty's Interest: for there can be no better Means to preserve his Subjects in Obedience for the future, than to give them a full View of the Miseries that attend Rebellion. There are only therefore wanting for the finishing of so brave an Undertaking, the united Endeavours of some publick Minds, who are conversant both in Letters and Business: and if it were appointed to be the Labour of one or two Men to compose it, and of such an Assembly to revise and correct it, it might certainly challenge all the Writings of past or present Times.
But, I see, I have already transgress'd: for I know it will be thought unadvisedly done, while I was inforcing a weightier Design, to start, and to follow another of less Moment. I shall therefore let it pass as an extravagant Conceit: only I shall affirm, that the Royal Society is so far from being like to put a Stop to such a Business, that I know many of its Members, who are as able as any others, to assist in the bringing it into Practice.
Thus I have dispatch'd my first general Head; in which, it may be, it was not needful to have staid so ​long; feeing, I am confident, I have said nothing, but what was before very well known, and what passes about in common Discourse.
Sect. XXI. The Philosophy of the Arabians.I did on purpose omit the learned Age of the Arabians, in its proper Place; because I was resolved, as I came down, to keep my self as near as I could, within the Bounds of Christendom. But I shall now add, concerning them, that their Studies also were principally bent upon expounding Aristotle, and the Greek Physicians. They were, without Question, men of a deep and subtile Wit; which is a Character, that (it may be) in all Ages has belonged more justly to the Tempers of the Southern, than of the Northern Countries. Of this they have left many noble Testimonies behind them; so many, that (if we believe some worthy and industrious Men of our own Nation, who have searched into their Monuments) they might even almost be compared to Rome and Athens themselves. But they enjoyed not the Light long enough: It brake forth upon the Point of their greatest Conquests; it mainly consisted, in understanding the Ancients; and what they would have done, when they had been weary of them we cannot tell: For that Work was not fully over, before they were darkened by that, which made even Greece it self barbarous, the Turkish Monarchy. However, that Knowledge, which they had, is the more remarkable, because it sprang up, in that Part of the World, which has been almost always perversly unlearned. For methinks, that small Spot of civil Arts, compared to their long Course of Ignorance, before and after, bears some Resemblance with that Country it self; where there are some few little Vallies, and ​Wells, and pleasant Shades of Palm-Trees; but those lying in the midst of Deserts, and unpassable Tracts of Sands.
Sect. XXII. A Defence of the Royal Society, in respect of the Ancients.But now it being a fit Time to stop, and breathe a while, and take a Review of the Ground, that we have passed. It would be here needful for me to make an Apology for my self, in a Matter, which, if it be not beforehand remov'd, may chance to be very prejudicial to Men's good Opinion of the Royal Society itself, as well as of its Historian. I fear, that this Assembly will receive Disadvantage enough, from my weak Management of their Cause, in many other Particulars; so that I must not leave them, and myself unjustified, in this, wherein we have so much Right on our Sides. I doubt not then, but it will come into the Thoughts of many Criticks (of whom the World is now full,) to urge against us, that I have spoken a little too sparingly of the Merits of former Ages; and that this Design seems to be promoted, with a malicious Intention of disgracing the Merits of the Ancients.
But first, I shall beseech them, calmly to consider; whether they themselves do not more injure those great Men, whom they would make the Matters of our Judgments, by attributing all Things to them so absolutely; than we, who do them all the Justice we can, without adoring them? It is always esteemed the greatest Mischief a Man can do those whom he loves, to raise Men's Expectations of them too high, by undue and impertinent Commendations. For thereby not only their Enemies, but indifferent Men, will be secretly inclined to be more watchful over their Failings, and to conspire in beating down their ​Fame. What then can be more dangerous to the Honour of Antiquity; than to set its Value at such a Rate, and to extol it so extravagantly, that it can never be able to bear the Trial, not only of envious, but even of impartial Judges? It is natural to Men's Minds, when they perceive others to arrogate more to themselves, than is their Share; to deny them even that, which else they would confess to be their Right. And of the Truth of this, we have an Instance of far greater Concernment, than that which is before us: And that is, in Religion itself. For while the Bishops of Rome did assume an Infallibility, and a sovereign Dominion over our Faith; the reformed Churches did not only justly refuse to grant them that, but some of them thought themselves obliged to forbear all Communion with them, and would not give them that Respect, which possibly might belong to so ancient and so famous Church; and which might still have been allowed it, without any Danger of Superstition.
But to carry this Dispute a little farther; what is this, of which they accuse us? They charge us with Immodesty in neglecting the Guidance of wiser and more discerning Men, than our selves. But is not this rather the greatest Sign of Modesty, to confess, that, we our selves may err, and all Mankind besides? To acknowledge the Difficulties of Science; and to submit our Minds to all the least Works of Nature? What kind of Behaviour do they exact from us in this Case? That we should reverence the Footsteps of Antiquity? We do it most unanimously. That we should subscribe to their Sense, before our own? We. are willing, in Probabilities; but we cannot, in Matters of Fact; for in them we follow the most ancient ​Author of all others, even Nature it self. Would they have us make our Eyes behold Things, at no farther Distance, than they law? That is impossible; seeing we have the Advantage of standing upon their Shoulders. They say, it is Insolence, to prefer our own Inventions before those of our Ancestors. But do not even they the very same Thing themselves, in all the pretty Matters of Life? In the Arts of War, and Government; in the making, and abolishing of Laws; nay even in the Fashion of their Cloaths, they differ from them, as their Humour or Fancy leads them. We approach the Ancients, as we behold their Tombs with Veneration; but we would not therefore be confined to live in them altogether; nor would (I believe) any of those, who profess to be more addicted to their Memories. They tell us, that in this Corruption of Manners, and Sloth of Men's Minds, we cannot go beyond those, who searched so diligently, and concluded so warily before us. But in this they are confuted by every Day's Experience. They object to us Tradition, and the Consent of all Ages. But do we not yet know the Deceitfulness of such Words? Is any Man, that is acquainted with the Craft of founding Sects, or of managing Votes in popular Assemblies, ignorant, how easy it is to carry Things in a violent Stream? And when an Opinion has once master'd its first Opposers, and settled itself in Men's Passions or Interests; how few there be, that coldly consider, what they admit for a long time after? So that when they say, that all Antiquity is against us, 'tis true, in shew, they object to us the Wisdom of many Ages; but in reality, they only confront us, with the Authority of a few leading Men. Nay, what if I should say, that this Honour for ​the dead, which such Men pretend to, is rather a worshipping of themselves, than of the Antients? It may be well prov'd, that they are more in Love with their own Commentaries, than with the Texts of those, whom they seem to make their Oracles; and that they chiefly doat on those Theories, which they themselves have drawn from them; which, it is likely, are almost as far distant from the original Meaning of their Authors, as the Positions of the new Philosophers themselves.
But to conclude this Argument (for I am weary of walking in a Road so trodden) I think I am able to confute such Men by the Practice of those very Antients, to whom they stoop so low. Did not they trust themselves, and their own Reasons? Did not they busie themselves in Inquiry, make new Arts, establish new Tenets, overthrow the old, and order all Things as they pleas'd, without any servile Regard to their Predecessors? The Grecians all, or the greatest Part of them, fetch'd their Learning from Egypt; and did they blindly assent to all that was taught them by the Priests of Isis and Osiris? If so; then why did they not, .together with their Arts, receive all the infinite Idolatries, which their Matters embrac'd? Seeing it is not to be question'd, but the Egyptians deliver'd the Rites of their Religion to Strangers, with as much Solemnity at least, as they did the Mysteries of their Hieroglyphicks, or Philosophy. Now then, let Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, and the rest of their wise Men, be our Examples, and we are safe. When they travell'd into the East, they collected what was fit for their Purpose, and suitable to the Genius of their Country, and left the Superfluities behind them: They brought home some ​of their useful Secrets; but still counted their worshiping a Dog, or an Onion, a Cat, or a Crocodile, ridiculous. And why shall not we be allow'd the same Liberty, to distinguish, and choose what we will follow? Especially, seeing in this, they had a more certain Way of being instructed by their Teachers, than we have by them: They were present on the Place: They learn'd from the Men themselves, by word of Mouth, and so were in a likely Course to apprehend all their Precepts aright; whereas we are to take their Doctrines, so many hundred Years after their Death, from their Books only, where they are for the most part so obscurely express'd, that they are scarce sufficiently understood by the Grammarians, and Linguists themselves, much less by the Philosophers.
In few Words therefore, let such Men believe, that we have no Thought of detracting from what was good in former Times: But, on the contrary, we have a mind to bestow on them a solid Praise, instead of a great, and an empty. While we are raising new Observations upon Nature, we mean not to abolish the old, which were well and judiciously establish'd by them: No more, than a King, when he makes a new Coin of his own, does presently call in that, which bears the Image of his Father; he only intends thereby to increase the current Money of his Kingdom, and still permits the one to pass, as well as the other. It is probable enough, that upon a fresh Survey, we may find many Things true, which they have before asserted; and then will not they receive a greater Confirmation, from this our new and severe Approbation, than from those Men, who resign up their Opinions to their Words only? It is the best Way of ​honouring them, to separate the certain Things in them, from the doubtful: For that shews, we are not so much carried towards them, by rash Affection, as by an unbyass'd Judgment. If we would do them the most Right, it is not necessary we should be perfectly like them in all Things. There are two principal Ways of preserving the Names of those that are past; the one, by Pictures; the other, by Children: The Pictures may be so made, that they may far nearer resemble the Original, than Children do their Parents; and yet all Mankind choose rather to keep themselves alive by Children, than by the other. It is best for the Philosophers of this Age to imitate the Antients as their Children, to have their Blood derived down to them; but to add a new Complexion, and Life of their own: While those, that endeavour to come near them in every Line, and Feature, may rather be called their dead Pictures or Statues, than their genuine Off-spring.
The End of the First Part.