Let this Book, entitled, The History of the Royal Society of London, for the Improving of Natural Knowledge, be Printed.  
WILL. MORRICE.   

THE HISTORY OF THE Royal-Society OF LONDON, For the Improving of NATURAL KNOWLEDGE.  
BY THO. SPRAT.  
LONDON, Printed by T. R. for I. Martin at the Bell without Temple-bar, and I. Allestry at the Rose and Crown in Duck-lane, Printers to the Royal Society. MDCLXVII.   

TO THE KING.  
SIR,  
OF all the Kings of Europe, Your Majesty was the first, who confirmed this Noble Design of Experiments, by Your own Example, and by a Public Establishment. An Enterprise equal to the most renowned Actions of the best Princes. For, to increase the Powers of all Mankind, and to free them from the bondage of Errors, is greater Glory than to enlarge Empire, or to put Chains on the necks of Conquered Nations.  
What Reverence all Antiquity had for the Authors of Natural Discoveries, is evident by the Diviner sort of Honour they conferred on them. Their Founders of Philosophical Opinions were only admired by their own Sects. Their Valiant Men and Generals did seldom rise higher than to Demigods and Heros. But the Gods they Worshipped with Temples and Altars, were those who instructed the World to Blow, to Sow, to Plant, to Spin, to build Houses, and to find out New Countries. This Zeal indeed, by which they expressed their Gratitude to such Benefactors, degenerated into Superstition: yet has it taught us, That a higher degree of Reputation is due to Discoverers, than to the Teachers of Speculative Doctrines, nay even to Conquerors themselves.  
Nor has the True God himself omitted to show his value of Vulgar Arts. In the whole History of the first Monarches of the World, from Adam to Noah, there is no mention of their Wars, or their Victories: All that is Recorded is this, They lived so many years, and taught their Posterity to keep Sheep, to till the Ground, to plant Vineyards, to dwell in Tents, to build Cities, to play on the Harp and Organs, and to work in Brass and Iron. And if they deserved a Sacred Remembrance, for one Natural or Mechanical Invention, Your Majesty will certainly obtain Immortal Fame, for having established a perpetual Succession of Inventors.  
I am (May it please Your Majesty) Your Majesty's most humble, and most obedient Subject, and Servant, THO. SPRAT.   

To the Royal Society.  

I.  
PHILOSOPHY the great and only Heir  
Of all that Human Knowledge which has been  
Unforfeited by Man's rebellious Sin,  
Though full of years He do appear,  
(Philosophy, I say, and call it, He,  
For whatsoever the Painter's Fancy be,  
It a Male Virtu seems to me)  
Has still been kept in Nonage till of late,  
Nor managed or enjoyed his vast Estate:  
Three or four thousand years one would have thought,  
To ripeness and perfection might have brought  
A Science so well bred and nursed,  
And of such hopeful parts too at the first.  
But, oh, the Guardians and the Tutors then,  
(Some negligent, and some ambitious men)  
Would ne'er consent to set him Free,  
Or his own Natural Powers to let him see,  
Lest that should put an end to their Authority.   

II.  
That his own business he might quite forgit,  
They amusd him with the sports of wanton Wit,  
With the Desserts of Poetry they fed him,  
Instead of solid meats t' encreas his force;  
Instead of vigorous exercise, they led him  
Into the pleasant Labyrinths of ever-fresh Discourse:  
Instead of carrying him to see  
The Riches which do hoarded for him lie  
In Nature's endless Treasury,  
They chose his Eye to entertain  
(His curious but not covetous Eye)  
With painted Scenes, and Pageants of the Brain.  
Some few exalted Spirits this latter Age has shown,  
That laboured to assert the Liberty  
(From Guardians, who were now Usurpers grown)  
Of this Old Minor still, Captived Philosophy;  
But 'twas Rebellion called to fight  
For such a long oppressed Right.  
Bacon at last, a mighty Man arose,  
Whom a wise King and Nature chose  
Lord Chancellor of both their Laws,  
And boldly undertook the injured Pupils cause.   

III.  
Authority, which did a Body boast,  
Though 'twas but Air condensed and stalked about,  
Like some old Giants more Gigantic Ghost,  
To terrify the Learned Rout  
With the plain Magic of true Reason's Light,  
He chased out of our sight,  
Nor suffered Living Men to be misled  
By the vain shadows of the Dead:  
To Graves, from whence it rose, the conquered Phantom fled;  
He broke that Monstrous God which stood  
In midst of th' Orchard, and the whole did claim,  
Which with a useless Sith of Wood,  
And something else not worth a name,  
(Both vast for show, yet neither fit  
Or to Defend, or to Beget;  
Ridiculous and senseless Terrors!) made  
Children and superstitious Men afraid.  
The Orchards open now, and free;  
Bacon has broke that Scarecrow Deity;  
Come, enter, all that will,  
Behold the ripened Fruit, come gather now your Fill.  
Yet still, methinks, we fain would be  
Catching at the Forbidden Tree,  
We would be like the Deity,  
When Truth and Falsehood, Good and Evil, we  
Without the Senses aid within ourselves would see;  
For 'tis God only who can find  
All Nature in his Mind.   

IV.  
From Words, which are but Pictures of the Thought,  
(Though we our Thoughts from them perversely drew)  
To Things, the Minds right Object, he it brought,  
Like foolish Birds to painted Grapes we flew;  
He sought and gathered for our use the True;  
And when on heaps the chosen Bunches lay,  
He pressed them wisely the Mechanic way,  
Till all their juice did in one Vessel join,  
Ferment into a Nourishment Divine,  
The thirsty Souls refreshing Wine.  
Who to the life an exact Piece would make,  
Must not from others Work a Copy take;  
No, not from Rubens or Vandike;  
Much less content himself to make it like  
Th' Ideas and the Images which lie  
In his own Fancy, or his Memory.  
No, he before his sight must place  
The Natural and Living Face;  
The real Object must command  
Each judgement of his Eye, and Motion of his Hand.   

V.  
From these and all long Errors of the way,  
In which our wand'ring Praedecessors went,  
And like th'old Hebrews many years did stray  
In Deserts but of small extent,  
Bacon, like Moses, led us forth at last,  
The barren Wilderness he passed,  
Did on the very Border stand  
Of the blessed promised Land,  
And from the Mountain's Top of his Exalted Wit,  
Saw it himself, and showed us it.  
But Life did never to one Man allow  
Time to Discover Worlds, and Conquer too;  
Nor can so short a Line sufficient be  
To fathom the vast depths of Nature's Sea:  
The work he did we ought t' admire,  
And were unjust if we should more require  
From his few years, divided 'twixt th' Excess  
Of low Affliction, and high Happiness:  
For who on things remote can fix his sight,  
That's always in a Triumph, or a Fight?   

VI  
From you, great Champions, we expect to get  
These spacious Countries but discovered yet;  
Countries where yet instead of Nature, we  
Her Images and Idols worshipped see:  
These large and wealthy Regions to subdu,  
Though Learning has whole Armies at command,  
Quartered about in every Land,  
A better Troop she ne'er together drew.  
Methinks, like Gideon's little Band,  
God with Design has picked out you,  
To do these noble Wonders by a Few:  
When the whole Host he saw, They are (said he)  
Too many to O'ercome for Me;  
And now he chooses out his Men,  
Much in the way that he did then:  
Not those many whom he found  
Idly extended on the ground,  
To drink with their dejected head  
The Stream just so as by their Mouths it fled:  
No, but those Few who took the Waters up,  
And made of their laborious Hands the Cup.   

VII.  
Thus you prepared; and in the glorious Fight  
Their wondrous pattern too you take:  
Their old and empty Pitchers first they broke,  
And with their Hands then lifted up the Light.  
Io! Sound too the Trumpets here!  
Already your victorious Lights appear;  
New Scenes of Heaven already we espy,  
And Crowds of golden Worlds on high;  
Which from the spacious Plains of Earth and Sea,  
Could never yet discovered be  
By Sailors or Chaldaeans watchful Eye.  
Nature's great Works no distance can obscure,  
No smallness her near Objects can secure.  
YE have taught the curious Sight to press  
Into the privatest recess  
Of her imperceptible Littleness.  
She with much stranger Art than his who put  
All th' Iliads in a Nut,  
The numerous work of Life does into Atoms shut.  
YE have learned to Read her smallest Hand,  
And well begun her deepest Sense to Understand.   

VIII.  
Mischief and true Dishonour fall on those  
Who would to laughter or to scorn expose  
So Virtuous and so Noble a Design,  
So Human for its Use, for Knowledge so Divine.  
The things which these proud men despise, and call  
Impertinent, and vain, and small,  
Those smallest things of Nature let me know,  
Rather than all their greatest Actions Do.  
Whoever would Deposed Truth advance  
Into the Throne usurped from it,  
Must feel at first the Blows of Ignorance,  
And the sharp Points of Envious Wit.  
So when by various turns of the Celestial Dance,  
In many thousand years  
A Star, so long unknown, appears,  
Though Heaven itself more beauteous by it grow,  
It troubles and alarms the World below,  
Does to the Wise a Star, to Fools a Meteor show.   

IX.  
With Courage and Success you the bold work begin  
Your Cradle has not Idle been:  
None e'er but Hercules and you could be  
At five years' Age worthy a History.  
And ne'er did Fortune better yet  
Th' Historian to the Story fit:  
As you from all Old Errors free  
And purge the Body of Philosophy;  
So from all Modern Follies He  
Has vindicated Eloquence and Wit.  
His candid Style like a clean Stream does slide,  
And his bright Fancy all the way  
Does like the Sunshine in it play;  
It does like Thames, the best of Rivers, glide,  
Where the God does not rudely overturn,  
But gently pour the Crystal Urn,  
And with judicious hand does the whole Current guide.  
IT has all the Beauty's Nature can impart,  
And all the comely Dress without the paint of Art.  
A. COWLEY.    

AN Advertisement to the Reader.  
THe Reader is entreated to take notice. That much of this Discourse was Written and Printed above two years before the rest: For this cause, in the First and Second Books, he may chance to find some Expressions that by reason of the difference of time may seem not well to agree with the last: But those having passed the Press so long ago, were out of my power of changing them; and therefore I will refer it to his kindness, to do it for me.  
I must also acquaint him, That in the Title of my Book I have taken a liberty, which may be liable to exception: I have called it a History of the Royal Society; whereas the First Part wholly Treats of the state of the Ancient Philosophy; and the Third chiefly contains a Defence and Recommendation of Experimental Knowledge in General: So that it is only the Second Book that peculiarly describes their Undertaking. But for my excuse I may allege the Example of many of the Ancients, who have often from the Principal Part of their Works given Title to all the rest: In their imitation, though this Book does Treat of many Subjects that are not Historical, yet I have presumed to name the whole a History, because that was the main end of my Design.  
The Style perhaps in which it is written, is larger and more contentious than becomes that purity and shortness which are the chief beauties of Historical Writings: But the blame of this ought not so much to be laid upon me, as upon the Detractors of so noble an Institution: For their Objections and Cavils against it, did make it necessary for me to write of it, not altogether in the way of a plain History, but sometimes of an Apology.   

THE HISTORY OF THE Institution, Design, and Progress, OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. For the Advancement of Experimental Philosophy. The FIRST PART.  
I Shall here present to the World, 
Section 1. The Preface, and Design of this Discourse.  an Account of the First Institution of the Royal Society; and of the Progress, which they have already made: in hope, that this Learned and Inquisitive Age, will either think their Endeavours, worthy of its Assistance; or else will be thereby provoked, to attempt some greater Enterprise (if any such can be found out) for the Benefit of humane life, by the Advancement of Real Knowledge.  
Perhaps this Task, which I have proposed to myself, will incur the Censure of many Judicious Men, who may think it an overhasty, 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 public so soon; till We could have produced very many considerable Experiments, which they had tried, and so have given undeniable Proofs, of the usefulness of their undertaking.  
In answer to this, I can plead for myself, that what I am here to say, will be far from preventing the labours of others in adorning so worthy a Subject: and is premised upon no other account, then 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 itself, but only to show in little, by what Materials, with what Charge, and by how many Hands, that is afterwards to be raised. 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 itself, 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 moved 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 Englishman to consider, then that notwithstandng all the late miseries of his Country; it has been able in a short time so well to recover itself: 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 aught to be exposed to the view of Men: that by laying down, on what course of Discovery they intent to proceed, the Gentlemen of the Society, may be more solemnly engaged, 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.  
I shall therefore divide my Discourse into these three general Heads. 
Sect. II. The Division of the Discourse.   

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 excelled, and wherein they have been thought to fail, we may the better show, what is to be expected, from these new Undertakers; and what moved them, to enter upon a way of Inquiry, different from that, on which the former have proceeded.  
The Second shall consist of the Narrative itself: and out of their Registers, and journals, which I have been permitted to peruse, shall relate the first Occasions of their Meetings, the Encouragement, and Patronage, which they have received; 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 now Discoveries in Natura 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 enforced 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 itself, wherein I write; which (if I mistake not) is far more prepared to be persuaded to promote such Studies, than any other time that has gone before us.  
And first, 
Sect. III. The Philosophy of the East.  let us observe the Practice of the best, and the civilest Nations, amongst the Ancients; and a little trace out the course which they followed, 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 derived down to us, from the Eastern parts of the World. There it was, that Mankind arose: and there they first discovered 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 on Nature, and the Manners of Men, in the dark Shadows of Hieroglyphics; 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 joined 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, Musaeus, and Homer, first softened men's natural rudeness, and by the charms of their Numbers, allured 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 deceived 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 than was consistent with a sincere Inquiry into them.  

Sect. IU. The Philosophy of Greece.  When the fabulous Age was passed: 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, established their Philosophy, in the Walks, and Porches, and Gardens, and such public places about their Cities: whereas the Graver, and more reserved Egyptians, had confined 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 completed in its substance: But yet their Genius was not so well made, for the undergoing of 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 inclined, rather to choose such opinions of Nature, which they might most elegantly express; then 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 Epitome's 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 loved rather to make sudden Conclusions, and to convince their hearers by argument; then to delay long, before they fixed their judgements; or to attend with sufficient patience the labour of Experiments. But to say no more, they had but a narrow Territory; and the condition of those times, would not allow a very large commerce, with foreign Nations: they were much exercised in the civil Affairs of their Country: they had almost a perpetual War, at home, or abroad: which kinds of busy, 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 humane Actions: but it was quickly forced 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 increasing 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 confused, 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 filled with Philosophical disputes: controversies were raised: Factions were made: many subtleties 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 never so wisely managed) they only did that, which has undone many such great attempts, before they had yet fully conquered 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 us much encouragement, as the others had, would without question have produced extraordinary things. But these Philosophers, digging deap, out of the sight of men; and studying more, how to conceive things aright, then how to set off, and persuade their conceptions, to others; were quickly almost quite overwhelmed, by the more plausible and Talkative Sects.  
This was the success of that Famous Age of the Grecian Learning, 
Sect. VI The Philosophy amongst the Romans.  in respect of Natural knowledge. They stayed not for an information sufficient for such a noble Enterprise: 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 clapped up an entire Building of Sciences: and therefore it is not to be wondered, if the hasty Fabric, which they raised, 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 Lawgivers, and Philosophers, in course of time, degenerating into Rhetoricians, and wand'ring Teachers of the opinions, of their private Sects. Amongst the Romans, the studies of Nature met with little, or no entertainment. They scarce ever dreamt of any other way of Philosophy, then 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 applied themselves to a severity of Moral virtue; endeavoured after no other skill, then 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 outlandish 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 enlarged the Bounds of their Commonwealth. Till at length their power being increased, and their minds a little softened 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 last, 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 maintained itself 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 ceased: it was thought necessary, for its increase, that its professors should be able to defend it, against the subtleties of the Hethens; 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, applied themselves to the Peripatetic, and Platonic Sects: But chiefly to the Platonic: Because that seemed 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, so many hundred years; yet they soon convinced them, of the ridiculousness of their worships, and the purity, and 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 warmed 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 first appeared so innocent, and peaceable, and fitted for the benefit of humane 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 obtained the Arm of the Civil Magistrate: and so at last by the help of many General Councils, got them extinguished, (if I may say they were extinguished, seeing in this age wherein we live, we have seen most of them unhappily revived). But still by his means, there was no knowledge in request, but the Disputative Philosophy. For while things were in this posture, and so many great Wits engaged in the heats of controversy: it was not to be expected, that they should look out for further assistance, than the Arts, which were already prepared; or that they should make any considerable endeavours, 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 snatch up that armour which he finds ready made, then 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 stronster, and nobler Metal at last.  
Nor was that Age unfit for such an enterprise, 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 occasioned by the Roman Armies usurping the Right of choosing Emperors, and by the invasions of Barbarous Nations, which overwhelmed the greatest part of Europe. Amidst these distractions, it was impossible for any thing of this Nature to have prospered: and in so vast in inundation of ignorance, which carried 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 disturbed, with the cares of preserving their Lives, and Fortunes.  
To go on therefore with the matter of Fact: 
Sect. VIII. The Philosophy under the Church of Rome.  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, forced it to make what Will, and Testament they pleased. Being thus established, 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 cherished, some of the Peripatetic opinions, which the most ingenious of the Monks, in their solitary, and idle course of life, had lighted upon. This Sect was excellently well made for their turn. For by hover so much, in genial Terms, and Notions, it amusd men's minds, in things that had not much difficulty: and so the Laity being kept blind, were forced in all things to depend on the Lips of the Roman Clergy. From that time, even down to the Reformation, the Gentlemen of all these Countries, employing themselves, chiefly in arms, and adventures abroad: and the Books of the ancients, being either destroyed by the Goths, and Vandals; or those which escaped their fury, lying covered with dust in the Libraries of Monasteries: few or none regarded any of the Arts of Wit, and Reason, besides the Churchmen.  
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 searched into, and promoted by them, then by any other order of men, even from the Egyptians times, (whose Priests in good part invented, or at least preserved, 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 reduced within the Temples 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, then on the increase of any other Science. Of this I shall give two instances: one, from the Ancients: the other, from ourselves.  
It is manifest, that amongst the jews, all the men of Letters still applied themselves to the understanding of their Law: that being the public 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 Monast'ries constituted. Hence came all the interpretations on the Writings of their Great Lawgiver: 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.  
But my other instance comes nearer home, 
Sect. IX. The Philosophy of the Schoolmen.  and it is of the Schoolmen. 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 denied, that they were men of extraordinary strength of mind: they had a great quickness of imagination, and subtlety 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 expressed a wonderful Artifice, in the ordering of the same Feathers in a thousand varities of Figures. I will not insist long on the Barbarousness of their style: though that too might justly be censured: for all the ancient Philosophers, though they laboured not to be full, and adorned in their Speech: yet they always strove to be easy, natural, and unaffected. Plato was allowed by all to be the chief Master of speaking, as well as of thinking. And even Aristotle himself, whom alone these men adored, however he has been since used by his Commentators, was so careful about his words, that he was esteemed one of the purest, and most polite Writers of his time. But the want of good Language, not being the Scholemens' worst defect, I shall pass it over: and rather stop a little, to examine the the matter itself, and order in which they proceeded.  
The Subjects about which they were most conversant, were either some of those Arts, which Aristostle 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 strengthened their own dictates. But though this Notional War had been carried 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 relied 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 established Axioms, is not the most useful way, is not only clear in such airy conceptions, which they managed: but also in those things, which lie before every man's observation, which belong to the life, and passions, and manners of men; which, one would think, might be sooner reduced into standing Rules. As for example: To make a prudent man in the affairs of State, It is not enough, to be well versed in all the conclusions, which all the Politicians in the World have devised, 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 judgement 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 Fabrics in the mind, concerning the Nature of Body, Quantity, Motion, and the like, if they only hover a-loof, and are not squared to particular matters, they may give an empty satisfaction, but no benefit, and rather serve to swell, then 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 connexion between the propositions is necessary, as in the Mathematics, 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 versatil, and wary defenders of the Principles, which they already know: but it can never much augment the solid substance of Science itself: And me thinks compared to Experimenting, it is like Exercise to the Body in comparison 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 Schoolmen 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 proved, that those very Theories, on which they built all their subtle 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, then good: and only served to carry them the faster out of the right way, when they were once going. The Peripatetics 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 Schoolmen be proper for such a business, who were tied by their Cloysterall 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 managed by the violence of popular assemblies, and those governed by the most plausible speakers: busy themselves chiefly about Eloquence; they who follow a Court, especially intent the ornament of Language, and Poetry, and such more delicate Arts, which are usually there in most request: they who retire from humane 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 Scholemens' 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. Cambden, who had travelled over every part of this Country, for that very purpose.  
Whoever shall soberly profess, to be willing to put their shoulders, under the burden of so great an enterprise, as to represent to mankind, the whole Fabric, 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 allowed 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 judgement, 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 supplied 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 lie 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 laborers, to sow, and reap, and bind, and bring it into the Barn.  
But now it is time for me to dismiss this subtle generation of Writers: whom I would not have prosecuted so far, but that they are still esteemed by some men, the only Masters 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 pleased: 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 of him, we would say of them; that it is to be wondered, 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 all 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 confined, within their own Bounds, and not be suffered 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 overspread 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 deserved 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 itself, 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 fetched from the Religion of mankind, the Nature of Government, and humane Society, and Scripture itself, 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 showed a very easy way of communicating men's thoughts one to another? or whether it came from the hatred, which was then generally conceived against the blindness, and stupidity, of the Roman Friars? 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 flourished 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 plot of ground, sown with Arts, and civility at this time, then either when the Grecian, or Roman Empires prevailed. For then (especially under the Romans) so many Nations being united under one Dominion, and reduced into the Form of Provinces: that knowledge which they had was chiefly confined 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 called) are cherished, and public allowance is made for their support. And in this compass, the infinite numbers of Wits, which have appeared so thick for these many years, have been chiefly taken up about some of these three studies: either the Writings of the Ancients: or Controversies of Religion: or Affairs of State.  
The First thing that was undertaken, 
Sect. XI. The Recovery of the Ancients.  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 Abbeys: 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 produced. 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 ourselves much beholding to them. For indeed, if they had not completed 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 toiling about it: what then should we have done, if all those Books had come down untouched to our hands?  
We cannot then, with any sobriety, detract from the Critics, 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 Ancients, 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 employed, to direct us in the ways, that we ought to proceed, in knowledge for the future; if by showing us what has been already finished, they point out to us, the most probable means, to accomplish what is behind. For methinks, that wisdom, which they fetched 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 than we are beholding, 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 acknowledged: But then we shall also desire of them, that they would content themselves, with what is their due: that by what they have discovered, amongst the rubbish of the Ancients, 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.  
Thus I pass over this sort of revived Learning. 
Sect XII. Religious controversies and Arts of Policy.  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 ado 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 Ploughman, called in vain: The Wit of men has been profusely poured 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 uninteressed 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 allured the greatest part of the men of Art, and reason, to addict themselves to them: while the search into severer knowledge has been looked on, as a study out of the way, fitter for a melancholy humorist, or a retired weak spirit, then 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 condemned 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 wander: 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 itself. But the greatest part of men, have still apprehended the contrary. If they can bring such Inquirers under the scornful Titles of Philosophers, or Scholars, or Virtuosos, 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, condemned for ever to that drudgery, and never to be redeemed to any other employment. And is not this a very unequal proceeding? While some overzealous 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 humane affairs. Thus by the one party, it is censured, 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 condemned by both the extremes. But I shall have a fitter occasion, to examine this hereafter. However it be, it is not to be wondered, 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 despised at last? How few must there needs be, who will be willing, to be impoverished for the common good? which they shall see, all the rewards, which might give life to their Industry, passing by them, and bestowed on the deserts of easier studies? and while they for all their pains, and public 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 in the mean time robbed by his companions, that stayed 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 carried 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 formed 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 Ancients should still possess a Tyranny over our Judgements, 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 pursued 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 public Liberty, turn the greatest Tyrants themselves. The first part of these men's performance is very much to the praised: They have made the ground open, and clear, for us: they have removed the rubbish; which, when one great Fabric is to be pulled down, and another to be erected in its stead, is always esteemed well nigh half the whole work: Their adventure was bold, and hazardous: They touched men's minds in their tenderest part, when they strove to pluck off those opinions, which had, by long custom, been so closely twined 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 prepation 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 scoured the World, redressed injuries, destroyed Monsters: and for this they were made Demigods. 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 Commonwealths, 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 reserved for this undertaking.  
So then, thus far they did well. But in the second part of their Enterprise, they themselves seem to me to have run into the same mistake, for which we chiefly complained against those Ancients, whose Authority they destroyed. The greatest occasion of our dissenting from the Greek Philosophers, and especially from Aristotle, was, that they made too much hast to seize on the prize, before they were at the end of the Race: that they fixed, and determined their judgements, on general conclusions too soon, and so could not afterwards alter them, by any new appearances, which might represent themselves. And may we not 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 contemporaries 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 Ancients, rather than to any one of the Moderns. They are all dead long since: and though we should be overreached 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 confined 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 discovered, that all things were ordered 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 Metaphysics? And it may be, his Followers, some Ages hence, will divide his Doctrine into as many distinctions, as the Schoolmen 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 myself, That first they must pass sentence on themselves, before they can think so, seeing I have named no man. But I will rather sincerely profess, that I had no satirical Sense, but only declared against Dogmatists in general. And I cannot repent my having done it, while I perceive, there are two very dangerous mischiefs, which are caused by that way of Philosophy. The one is, that it makes men give over, and believe that they are satisfied, too soon. This is of very ill consequence: For thereby men's industry will be slackened, 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, then to be long in suspense, though to better purpose. And it is with most men's understandings, as with their eyes; to which those seem the most delightful prospects, where varieties of Hills, and Woods, do soon bound their wander; then where there is one large smooth campagne, 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 immovable in their opinions, to be more imperious, and impatient of contradiction, then becomes the calmness, and unpassionate evenness of the true Philosophical Spirit. It makes them prone to undervalue other men's 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 men's 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 dispersed, 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 entering into Society. It is a 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-practised in all the modest, humble, friendly Virtues: should be willing to be taught, and to give way to the Judgement of others. And I dare boldly say, that a plain, industrious Man, so prepared, is more likely to make a good Philosopher, than all the high, earnest, insulting Wits, who can neither bear partnership, nor opposition. The Chemists lay it down, as a necessary qualification of their happy Man, to whom God will reveal their adored Elixir, that he must be rather innocent, and virtuous, then 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 Assertors: 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 renounced the Authority of Aristotle: But than restored some one or other of the Ancient Sects in his stead. If such men's 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 received with great acknowledgements: For such a general prospect will very much enlarge, 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 revived, into as absolute a power, as the Peripatetics 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 changed; but the Tyranny itself must be wholly taken away.  
The Third sort of new Philosophers, 
Sect. XVI. Modern Experimenters.  have been those, who have not only disagreed from the Ancients, but have also proposed to themselves the right course of slow, 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 lie 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 adorned with so much Art; that if my desires could have prevailed with some excellent Friends of mine, who engaged 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 humane 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 practised, and governed the Common Law: who had always lived in the crowd, and born the greatest Burden of Civil business: should yet find leisure enough for these retired 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 itself; which as, for the most part, it describes men's minds, as well as Pictures do their Bodies; so it did his above all men living. The course of it vigorous, and majestical: The Wit Bold, and Familiar: The comparisons fetched out of the way, and yet the most easy: in all, expressing a soul, equally skilled in Men, and Nature. All this, and much more is true of him: But yet his Philosophical Works do show, 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 wished in many places, he seems rather to take all that comes, then to choose; and to heap, rather, then 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.  
The next Philosophers, 
Sect. XVII. The Chemists.  whom I shall touch upon, are the Chemists, who have been more numerous, in this later 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 performed 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 showing 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 pretensions of the Third kind, are not only to endow us, with all the benefits of this life, but with Immortality itself. 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 lie never so little out of their road, it is free from their discovery: as I have heard of some creatures in afric, 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 seeing we cast Enthusiasm out of Divinity itself, 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 restored them to a perfect sense, had murdered 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 divers eminent Persons: amongst whom some are members of the Royal Society. And, if it were not already excellently performed by others, I might here speak largely, of the advantages that accrue to Physic, by the industrious labours of such Chemists, 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 humane 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 endeavours, might probably at last be overcome. And indeed they have generally reaped 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 overwhelmed 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 managed some parts of Astronomy, Geometry, Anatomy, etc. there would scarce any burden have remained, on the shoulders of our Posterity: But they might have sat quietly down, and enjoyed the pleasure of the true Speculative Philosophy, and the profit of the Practical.  
To all these proceedings, that I have mentioned, there is as much honour to be paid, as can be due to any one single humane Wit: But they must pardon us, if we still prefer the joint force of many men.  
And now it is much to be wondered, 
Sect. XIX. Modern Academies for Language.  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 formed themselves into Academies. But it has been, for the most part, to a far different purpose: and most of them only aimed 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 excelled all the other, and kept itself longer untainted from the corruptions of speech, was the French Academy at Paris. This was composed of the noblest Authors of that Nation: and had for its Founder, the Great Cardinal de Richelieu: who, amongst all his cares, whereby he established, and enlarged 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 masculinely, so chastely, and so unaffectedly done, that I can hardly forbear envying the French Nation this honour: that while the English Royal Society has so much outgone 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 allege 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 enterprise: Whereas the intention of ours, being not the Artifice of Words, but a bare knowledge of things; my fault may be esteemed 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 delivered 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 our 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 fetched. 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 spoke 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 to the World: And from thence, by degrees, they declined to corruption; as their valour, their prudence, and the honour of their Arms did decay: and at last, did even meet the Northern Nations half way 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 carelessly hand led; 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 than 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 busy, and active times, there arise more new thoughts of men, which must be signified, and varied by new expressions) than I say, it received many fantastical terms, which were introduced by our Religious Sects; and many outlandish phrases, which several Writers, and Translators, in that great hurry, brought in, and made free as they pleased, and with all it was enlarged by many sound, and necessary Forms, and Idioms, which it before wanted. And now, when men's minds are somewhat settled, their Passions allayed, 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 set a mark on the ill Words; correct those, which are to be retained; 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 Germane will allow it.  
Nor would I have this new English Acamedy, confined 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 Ancients, to excel all the Moderns. Now the best means, that can be devised to bring that about, is to settle a fixed, and Impartial Court of Eloquence; according to whose Censure, all Books, or Authors should either stand or fall. And above all, 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, then Civil History: if it were written, with that sincerity, and majesty, as it ought to be, as a faithful Idea of humane Actions. And it is observable, that almost in all civilised Countries, it has been the last thing, that has come to perfection. I may now say, that the English can already show 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, reserved 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 writ, in this way, not much better than our Monks: only Registering in an undigested manner, some few naked Breviaries of their Wars, and Leagues, and Acts, of their City Magistrates. And indeed they advanced forward by very slow degrees: For I remember, that Tully somewhere complains, in these Words: Historia nonclum latinis literis illustrata. But it was in the peaceful reign of Augustus, after the conclusion of their long Civil Wars, that most of their perfect Historians appeared. And it seems to me, that we may expect the same progress amongst us. There lie now ready in Bank, the most memorable Actions of Twenty years: a Subject of as great Dignity, and Variety, as ever passed 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 attended rebellion. There are only therefore wanting, for the finishing of so brave an undertaking, the united endeavours of some public 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 transgressed: For I know it will be thought unadvisedly done, while I was enforcing 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 dispatched my first general Head; in which, it may be, it was not needful to have stayed so long: seeing, I am confident, I have said nothing, but what was before very well known, and what passes about in common discourse.  
I did on purpose omit the Learned Age of the Arabians, 
Sect XXI. The Philosophy of the Arabians.  in its proper place: because I was resolved, as I came down, to keep myself as near as I could, within the Bounds of Christendom. But I shall now add, concerning them, that their Studies also were principally bend, upon expounding Aristotle, and the Greek Physicians. They were, without question, men of a deep, and subtle Wit: which is a Character that it may be in all Ages has belonged more justly to the Tempers of the Southern, then 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 broke 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 itself Barbarous, the Turkish Monarchy. However, that knowledge, which they had, is the more remarkable, because it sprung up, in that part of the World, which has been almost always perversely 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 itself; where there are some few little Valleys, 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 to take a review of the ground, that we have passed. It will be here needful for me, to make an Apology for myself, in a matter, which, if it be not before hand removed, 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 unjustifyed, in this, wherein we have so much right on our sides. I doubt not then, but it will come into the thoughts of many Critics, (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 Masters of our Judgements, by attributing all things to them so absolutely; then 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; then 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 mind, when they perceive others to arrogate more to themselves, then 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, then 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 a 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 ourselves. But is not this rather the greatest sign of Modesty, to confess, that we ourselves 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 itself. Would they have us make our eyes behold things, at no farther distance, than they saw? 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 petty matters of life? In the Arts of War, and Government; In the making, and abolishing of Laws; nay even in the fashion of their clothes, 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 most 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 days 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 mastered 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 show, 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 Ancients? It may be well proved, that they are more in love with their own Commentaries, then with the Texts of those, whom they seem to make their Oracles: and that they chiefly dote 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 Ancients, to whom they stoop so low. Did not they trust themselves, and their own Reasons? Did not they busy themselves in inquiry, make new Arts, establish new Tenants, overthrew the old, and order all things as they pleased, without any servile Regard to their Predecessors? The Grecians all, or the greatest part of them, fetched 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 Masters embraced? seeing it is not to be questioned, but the Egyptians delivered the rites of their Religion to strangers, with as much Solemnity at least, as they did the Mysteries of their Hieroglyphics 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 travelled 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 worshipping a Dog, or an Onion, a Cat, or a Crocodile, ridiculous. And why shall not we be allowed 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 learned 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 expressed, 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 established 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, then 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 shows, we are not so much carried towards them, by rash affection, as by an unbyass'd Judgement. 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 passed: 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, then by the other. It is best for the Philosophers of this Age to imitate the Ancients 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 Offspring.  
The End of the First Part.   

THE HISTORY OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY. The SECOND PART.  

Section I. The Division of the Narration.  THus I am, at length, arrived at the second Part of my Method, The Narration itself. This I shall divide into three Periods of Time, according to the several Degrees of the preparation, growth, and complete Constitution of the Royal Society.  
The First shall consist of the first occasions of this Model, and the Men, who first devised to put it in execution: and shall end, where they began to make it a formed, and Regular Assembly.  
The Second shall trace out their first attempts, till they received the public assistance of Royal Authority.  
The Third shall deliver, what they have done, since they were made a Royal Corporation.  
It may seem perhaps, that in passing through the first of these, I go too far back, and treat of things, that may appear to be of too private, and Domestic concernment, to be spoken in this public way. But if this Enterprise, which is now so well established, shall be hereafter advantageous to Mankind (as I make no scruple to foretell, that it will) it is but just, that future times should hear the names, of its first Promoters: That they may be able to render particular thanks to them, who first conceived it in their minds, and practised some little draught of it long ago. And besides, I never yet saw an Historian that was clear from all Affections: that, it may be, were not so much to be called Integrity, as a stoical insensibility: Nor can I, more than others, resist my inclinations, which strongly force me to mention that, which will be for the honour of that place, where I received a great part of my Education. It was therefore, some space after the end of the Civil Wars at Oxford, in Dr. Wilkins his Lodgings, in Wadham College, which was then the place of Resort for Virtuous, and Learned Men, that the first meetings were made, which laid the foundation of all this that followed. The University had, at that time, many Members of its own, who had begun a free way of reasoning; and was also frequented by some Gentlemen, of Philosophical Minds, whom the misfortunes of the Kingdom, and the security and ease of a retirement amongst Gownsmen, had drawn thither.  
Their first purpose was no more, 
Sect. II. The Meetings at Oxford.  then only the satisfaction of breathing a freer air, and of conversing in quiet one with another, without being engaged in the passions, and madness of that dismal Age. And from the Institution of that Assembly, it had been enough, if no other advantage had come, but this: That by this means there was a race of young Men provided, against the next Age, whose minds receiving from them, their first Impressions of sober and generous knowledge, were invincibly armed against all the enchantments of Enthusiasm. But what is more, I may venture to affirm, that it was in good measure, by the influence, which these Gentlemen had over the rest, that the University itself, or at least, any part of its Discipline, and Order, was saved from ruin. And from hence we may conclude, that the same Men have now no intention, of sweeping away all the honour of Antiquity in this their new Design: seeing they employed so much of their labour, and prudence, in preserving that most venerable Seat of ancient Learning, when their shrinking from its defence, would have been the speediest way to have destroyed it. For the Truth of this, I dare appeal to all uninteressed men, who knew the Temper of that place; and especially to those who were my own contemporaries there: of whom I can name very many, whom the happy restoration of the Kingdom's peace, found as well inclined, to serve their Prince, and the Church, as if they had been bred up in the most prosperous condition of their Country. This was undoubtedly so. Nor indeed could it be otherwise: for such spiritual Frenzies, which did then bear Rule, can never stand long, before a clear, and a deep skill in Nature. It is almost impossible, that they, who converse much with the subtlety of things, should be deluded by such thick deceits. There is but one better charm in the world, then Real Philosophy, to allay the impulses of the false spirit: and that is, the blessed presence, and assistance of the True.  
Nor were the good effects of this conversation, only confined to Oxford: But they have made themselves known in their printed Works, both in our own, and in the learned Language: which have much conduced to the Fame of our Nation abroad, and to the spreading of profitable Light, at home. This I trust, will be universally acknowledged, when I shall have named the Men. The principal, and most constant of them, were Doctor Seth Ward, the present Lord Bishop of Exeter, Mr. Boyl, Dr. Wilkins, Sir William Petty, Mr. Matthew Wren, Dr. Wallis, Dr. Goddard, Dr. Willis, Dr. Bathurst, Dr. Christopher Wren, Mr. Rook: besides several others, who joined themselves to them, upon occasions. Now I have produced their Names, I am a little at a stand, how to deal with them. For, if I should say what they deserve; I fear it would be intepreted flattery, instead of justice. And yet I have now lying in my sight, the example of an Elegant Book, which I have professed to admire: whose Author sticks not, to make large Panegyrics, on the Members of that Assembly, whose Relation he Writes. But this Precedent is not to be followed by a young Man; who ought to be more jealous of public censure, and is not enough confirmed in the good liking of the world; to think, that he has such a weighty, and difficult work, as the making of Characters, committed to him. I will therefore pass by their praises in silence; though I believe, that what I might say of them, would be generally confessed: and that if any ingenuous man, who knows them, or their writings, should contradict me, he would also go near to gainsay himself, and to retract the applauses, which he had sometime, or other, bestowed upon them.  
For such a candid, and unpassionate company, as that was, and for such a gloomy season, what could have been a fitter Subject to pitch upon, then Natural Philosophy? To have been always tossing about some Theological question, would have been, to have made that their private diversion, the excess of which they themselves disliked in the public: To have been eternally musing on Civil business, and the distresses of their Country, was too melancholy a reflection: It was Nature alone, which could pleasantly entertain them, in that estate. The contemplation of that, draws our minds off from past, or present misfortunes, and makes them conquerors over things, in the greatest public unhappiness: while the consideration of Men, and humane affairs, may affect us, with a thousand various disquiets; that never separates us into mortal Factions; that gives us room to differ, without animosity; and permits us, to raise contrary imaginations upon it, without any danger of a Civil War.  
Their meetings were as frequent, as their affairs permitted: their proceedings rather by action, than discourse; chiefly attending some particular Trials, in Chemistry, or Mechanics: they had no Rules nor Method fixed: their intention was more, to communicate to each other, their discoveries, which they could make in so narrow a compass, than an united, constant, or regular inquisition. And me thinks, their constitution did bear some resemblance, to the Academy lately begun at Paris: where they have at last turned their thoughts, from Words, to experimental Philosophy, and perhaps in imitation of the Royal Society. Their manner likewise, is to assemble in a private house, to reason freely upon the works of Nature; to pass Conjectures, and propose Problems, on any Mathematical, or Philosophical Matter, which comes in their way. And this is an Omen, on which I will build some hope, that as they agree with us in what was done at Oxford, so they will go on farther, and come by the same degrees, to erect another Royal Society in France. I promise for these Gentlemen here (so well I know the generosity of their Design) that they will be most ready to accept their assistance. To them, and to all the Learned World besides, they call for aid. No difference of Country, Interest, or profession of Religion, will make them backward from taking, or affording help in this enterprise. And indeed all Europe at this time, have two general Wars, which they ought in honour to make: The one a holy, the other a Philosophical: The one against the common Enemy of Christendom, the other also against powerful, and barbarous Foes, that have not been fully subdued almost these six thousand years, Ignorance, and False Opinions. Against these, it becomes us, to go forth in one common expedition: All civil Nations joining their Armies against the one, and their Reason against the other; without any petty contentions, about privileges, or precedence.  
Thus they continued without any great Intermissions, 
Sect. III. Their first meetings at London.  till about the year 1658. But then being called away to several parts of the Nation, and the greatest number of them coming to London, they usually met at Gresham College, at the Wednesdays, and Thursdays Lectures of Dr. Wren, and Mr. Rook: where there joined with them several eminent persons of their common acquaintance: The Lord Viscount Brouncker, the now Lord Brereton, Sir Paul Neil, Mr. john Evelyn, Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Slingsby, Dr. Timothy Clark, Dr. Ent, Mr. Ball, Mr. Hill, Dr. Crone: and divers other Gentlemen, whose inclinations lay the same way. This Custom was observed once, if not twice a week, in Term time; till they were scattered by the miserable distractions of that Fatal year; till the continuance of their meetings there might have made them run the hazard of the fate of Archimedes: For then the place of their meeting was made a Quarter for Soldiers. But, (to make haste through those dreadful revolutions, which cannot be beheld upon Paper, without horror; unless we remember, that they had this one happy effect, to open men's eyes to look out for the true Remedy) upon this followed the King's Return; and that, wrought by such an admirable chain of events, that if we either regard the easiness, or speed, or blessed issue of the Work; it seems of itself to contain variety, and pleasure enough, to make recompense, for the whole Twenty years Melancholy, that had gone before. This I leave to another kind of History to be described. It shall suffice my purpose, that Philosophy had its share, in the benefits of that glorious Action: For the Royal Society had its beginning in the wonderful pacific year, 1660. So that, if any conjectures of good Fortune, from extraordinary Nativities, hold true; we may presage all happiness to this undertaking. And I shall here join my solemn wishes, that as it began in that time, when our Country was freed from confusion, and slavery: So it may, in its progress, redeem the minds of Men, from obscurity, uncertainty, and bondage.  

Sect. IU. The beginning of the Royal Society.  These Gentlemen therefore, finding the hearts of their Countrymen enlarged by their Joys, and fitted for any noble Proposition: and meeting with the concurrence of many Worthy Men, who, to their immortal Honour, had followed the King in his banishment, Mr. erskin's, Sir Robert Moray, Sir Gilbert Talbot, etc. began now to imagine some greater thing; and to bring out experimental knowledge, from the retreats, in which it had long hid itself, to take its part in the Triumphs of that universal Jubilee. And indeed Philosophy did very well deserve that Reward: having been always Loyal in the worst of times: For though the King's enemies had gained all other advantages; though they had all the Garrisons, and Fleets, and Ammunitions, and Treasures, and Armies on their side: yet they could never, by all their Victories, bring over the Reason of Men to their Party.  
While they were thus ordering their platform; there came forth a Treatise, which very much hastened its contrivance: and that was a Proposal by Master Cowley, of erecting a Philosophical College. The intent of it was, that in some place near London, there should liberal Salaries be bestowed, on a competent number of Learned Men, to whom should be committed the operations of Natural Experiments. This Model was every way practicable: unless perhaps, in two things, he did more consult the generosity of his own mind, than of other men's: the one was the largeness of the Revenue, with which he would have his College at first endowed: the other, that he imposed on his Operators, a Second task of great pains, the Education of youth.  
The last of these is indeed a matter of great weight: The Reformation of which ought to be seriously examined by prudent Men. For it is an undeniable Truth, which is commonly said; that there would be need of fewer Laws, and less force to govern Men, if their Minds were rightly informed, and set straight, while they were young, and pliable. But perhaps this labour is not so proper, for Experimenters to undergo: For it would not only devour too much of their Time: but it would go near, to make them a little more magisterial in Philosophy, than became them; by being long accustomed to command the opinions, and direct the manners, of their Scholars. And as to the other particular, the large estate, which he required to the maintenance of his College: It is evident, that it is so difficult a thing, to draw men in to be willing to divert an ancient Revenue, which had long run in another stream, or to contribute out of their own purses, to the supporting of any new Design, while it shows nothing but promises, and hopes: that, in such cases, it were (it may be) more advisable, to begin upon a small stock, and so to rise by degrees; then to profess great things at first, and to exact too much benevolence, all in one lump together. However, it was not the excellent Author's fault, that he thought better of the Age, than it did deserve. His purpose in it was like himself, full of honour, and goodness: most of the other particulars of his draught, the Royal Society is now putting in practice.  
I come now to the Second Period of my Narration: wherein I promised, to give an account of what they did, till they were publicly owned, encouraged, and confirmed by Royal Favor. And I trust, that I shall here produce many things, which will prove their attempts to be worthy of all men's encouragement: though what was performed in this interval, may be rather styled the Temporary Scaffold about the building, than the Frame itself. But in my entrance upon this Part▪ being come to the top of the Hill, I begin to tremble, and to apprehend the greatness of my Subject. For I perceive that I have led my Readers Minds on, by so long, and so confident a Speech, to expect some wonderful Model, which shall far exceed all the former, that I have acknowledged to have been imperfect. Now, though this were really so, as I believe it is; yet I question, how it will look, after it has been disfigured by my unskilful hands. But the danger of this aught to have deterred me in the beginning. It is now too late to look back; and I can only apply myself to that good Nature, which a Great Man has observed to be so peculiar to our Nation, that there is scarce an expression to signify it, in any other Language. To this I must fly for succour, and most affectionately entreat my Countrymen, that they would interpret my failings to be only errors of obedience to some, whose commands, or desires, I could not resist: and that they would take the measure of the Royal Society, not so much from my lame description of it; as from the honour, and reputation, of many of those Men, of whom it is composed.  
I will here, in the first place, contract into few Words, 
Sect. V. A model of their whole design.  the whole sum of their Resolutions; which I shall often have occasion, to touch upon in parcels. Their purpose is, in short, to make faithful Records, of all the Works of Nature, or Art, which can come within their reach: that so the present Age, and posterity, may be able to put a mark on the Errors, which have been strengthened by long prescription: to restore the Truths, that have lain neglected: to push on those, which are already known, to more various uses: and to make the way more passable, to what remains unrevealed. This is the compass of their Design. And to accomplish this, they have endeavoured, to separate the knowledge of Nature, from the colours of Rhetoric, the devices of Fancy, or the delightful deceit of Fables. They have laboured to enlarge it, from being confined to the custody of a few; or from servitude to private interests. They have striven to preserve it from being overpressed by a confused heap of vain, and useless particulars; or from being straitened and bounded too much up by General Doctrines. They have tried, to put it into a condition of perpetual increasing; by settling an inviolable correspondence between the hand, and the brain. They have studied, to make it, not only an Enterprise of one season, or of some lucky opportunity; but a business of time; a steady, a lasting, a popular, an uninterrupted Work. They have attempted, to free it from the Artifice, and Humours, and Passions of Sects; to render it an Instrument, whereby Mankind may obtain a Dominion over Things, and not only over one another's judgements. And lastly, they have begun to establish these Reformations in Philosophy, not so much, by any solemnity of Laws, or ostentation of Ceremonies, as by solid Practice, and examples: not, by a glorious pomp of Words; but by the silent, effectual, and unanswerable Arguments of real Productions.  
This will more fully appear, by what I am to say on these four particulars, which shall make up this part of my Relation, the Qualifications of their Members: the manner of their Inquiry: their weekly Assemblies: and their way of Registering. 
Sect. VI The qualifications of the Members of the Royal Society.   
As for what belongs to the Members themselves, that are to constitute the Society: It is to be noted, that they have freely admitted Men of different Religions, Countries, and Professions of Life. This they were obliged to do, or else they would come far short of the the largeness of their own Declarations. For they openly profess, not to lay the Foundation of an English, Scotch, Irish, Popish, or Protestant Philosophy; but a Philosophy of Mankind.  
That the Church of England ought not to be apprehensive, 
They admit Men of all Religions.  of this free converse of various Judgements, I shall afterwards manifest at large. For the present, I shall frankly assert; that our Doctrine, and Discipline, will be so far from receiving damage by it; that it were the best way to make them universally embraced, if they were oftener brought to be canvased amidst all sorts of dissenters. It is dishonourable, to pass a hard Censure on the Religions of all other Countries: It concerns them, to look to the reasonableness of their Faith; and it is sufficient for us, to be established in the Truth of our own. But yet this comparison I may modestly make; that there is no one Profession, amidst the several denominations of Christians, that can be exposed to the search and scrutiny of its adversaries, with so much safety as ours. So equal it is, above all others, to the general Reason of Mankind: such honourable security it provides, both for the liberty of men's Minds, and for the peace of Government: that if some men's conceptions were put in practice, that all wise Men should have two Religions; the one, a public, for their conformity with the people; the other, a private, to be kept to their own Breasts: I am confident, that most considering Men, whatever their first were, would make ours their second, if they were well acquainted with it. Seeing therefore, our Church would be in so fair a probability of gaining very much, by a frequent contention, and encounter, with other Sects: It cannot be endangered by this Assembly; which proceeds no farther, then to an unprejudiced mixture with them.  

Of all Countries.  By their naturalising Men of all Countries, they have laid the beginnings of many great advantages for the future. For by this means, they will be able, to settle a constant Intelligence, throughout all civil Nations; and make the Royal Society the general Bank, and Free-port of the World: A policy, which whether it would hold good, in the Trade of England, I know not: but sure it will in the Philosophy. We are to overcome the mysteries of all the Works of Nature; and not only to prosecute such as are confined to one Kingdom, or beat upon one shore. We should not then refuse to list all the aids, that will come in, how remote soever. If I could fetch my materials whence I pleased, to fashion the Idea of a perfect Philosopher: he should not be all of one clime, but have the different excellencies of several Countries. First, he should have the Industry, Activity, and Inquisitive humour of the Dutch, French, Scotch, and English, in laying the ground Work, the heap of Experiments: And then he should have added the cold, and circumspect, and wary disposition of the Italians, and Spaniards, in meditating upon them, before he fully brings them into speculation. All this is scarce ever to be found in one single Man: seldom in the same Countrymen: It must then be supplied, as well as it may, by a Public Council; wherein the various dispositions of all these Nations, may be blended together. To this purpose, the Royal Society has made no scruple, to receive all inquisitive strangers of all Countries, into its number. And this they have constantly done, with such peculiar respect, that they have not obliged them to the charge of contributions: they have always taken care, that some of their Members, should assist them in interpreting all that passed, in their public Assemblies: and they have freely opened their Registers to them; thereby inviting them, to communicate foreign Rarities, by imparting their own discoveries. This has been often acknowledged, by many Learned Men, who have travelled hither; who have been introduced to their meetings, and have admired the decency, the gravity, the plainess, and the calmness of their debates. This they have published to the world: and this has roused all our neighbours to fix their eyes upon England. From hence they expect the great improvements of knowledge will flow: and though, perhaps, they send their Youth into other parts, to learn Fashion, and Breeding: yet their Men come hither for nobler ends; to be instructed, in the masculine, and the solid Arts of Life: which is a matter of as much greater Reputation, as it is more honourable, to teach Philosophers, than Children.  
By their admission of Men of all professions, 
Of all Professions.  these two Benefits arise: The one, that every Art, and every way of life already established, may be secure of receiving no damage by their Counsels. A thing which all new Inventions ought carefully to consult. It is in vain, to declare against the profit of the most, in any change that we would make. We must not always deal with the violent current of popular passions; as they do with the furious Eager in the Severn: Where the safest way is, to set the head of the Boat directly against its force. But here Men must follow the shore; wind about leisurably; and insinuate their useful alterations, by soft, and unperceivable degrees. From the neglect of this Prudence, we often see men of great Wit, to have been overborne by the multitude of their opposers; and to have found all their subtle projects too weak, for custom, and interest: While being a little too much heated with a love of their own fancies; they have raised to themselves more Enemies than they needed to have done; by defying at once, too many things in use. But here, this danger is very well prevented. For what suspicion can Divinity, Law, or Physic, or any other course of life have, that they shall be impaired by these men's labours: when they themselves are as capable of sitting amongst them as any others? Have they not the same security that the whole Nation has for its lives and fortunes? of which this is esteemed the Establishment, that men of all sorts, and qualities, give their voice in every law that is made in Parliament. But the other benefit is, that by this equal Balance of all Professions, there will no one particular of them over-weigh the other, or make the Oracle only speak their private sense: which else it were impossible to avoid. It is natural to all Ranks of men, to have some one Darling, upon which their care is chiefly fixed. If Mechanics alone were to make a Philosophy, they would bring it all into their Shops; and force it wholly to consist of Springs and Wheels, and Weights: if Physicians, they would not depart far from their Art; scarce any thing would be considered, besides the Body of Man, the Causes, Signs, and Cures of Diseases. So much is to be found in Men of all conditions, of that which is called Pedantry in Scholars: which is nothing else but an obstinate addiction, to the forms of some private life, and not regarding general things enough. This freedom therefore, which they use, in embracing all assistance, is most advantageous to them: which is the more remarkable, in that they diligently search out, and join to them, all extraordinary men, though but of ordinary Trades. And that they are likely to continue this comprehensive temper hereafter, I will show by one Instance: and it is the recommendation which the King himself was pleased to make, of the judicious Author of the Observations on the Bills of Mortality: In whose Election, it was so far from being a prejudice, that he was a Shopkeeper of London; that His Majesty gave this particular charge to His Society, that if they found any more such Tradesmen, they should be sure to admit them all, without any more ado. From hence it may be concluded, what is their inclination towards the manual Arts; by the careful regard which their Founder, and Patron, has engaged them to have, for all sorts of Mechanic Artists.  
But, 
Sect. VII. It consists chiefly of Gentlemen.  though the Society entertains very many men of particular Professions; yet the far greater Number are Gentlemen, free, and unconfined. By the help of this, there was hopeful Provision made against two corruptions of Learning, which have been long complained of, but never removed: The one, that Knowledge still degenerates, to consult present profit too soon; the other, that Philosophers have been always Masters, & Scholars; some imposing, & all the other submitting; and not as equal observers without dependence.  
The first of these may be called, the marrying of Arts too soon; 
The advantages of this.  and putting them to generation, before they come to be of Age; and has been the cause of much inconvenience. It weakens their strength; It makes an unhappy disproportion in their increase; while not the best, but the most gainful of them flourish: But above all, it diminishes that very profit for which men strive. It busies them about possessing some petty prize; while Nature itself, with all its mighty Treasures, slips from them: and so they are served like some foolish Guards; who, while they were earnest in picking up some small Money, that the Prisoner dropped out of his Pocket, let the Prisoner himself escape, from whom they might have got a great randsom. This is easily declam'd against, but most difficult to be hindered. If any caution will serve, it must be this; to commit the Work to the care of such men, who, by the freedom of their education the plenty of their estates, and the usual generosity of Noble Blood, may be well supposed to be most averse from such sordid considerations.  
The second Error, which is hereby endeavour▪ d to be remedied, is, that the Seats of Knowledge, have been for the most part heretofore, not Laboratories, as they ought to be; but only Schools, where some have taught, and all the rest subscribed. The consequences of this are very mischievous. For first, as many Learners as there are, so many hands, and brains may still be reckoned upon, as useless. It being only the Master's part, to examine, and observe; and the Disciples, to submit with silence, to what they conclude. But besides this, the very inequality of the Titles of Teachers, and Scholars, does very much suppress, and tame men's Spirits, which though it should be proper for Discipline and Education; yet is by no means consistent with a free Philosophical Consultation. It is undoubtedly true; that scarce any man's mind, is so capable of thinking strongly, in the presence of one, whom he fears and reverences; as he is, when that restraint is taken off. And this is to be found, not only in these weightier matters; but also (to give a lighter instance) in the Arts of Discourse, & raillery themselves▪ For we have often seen men of bold tempers, that have overawed and governed the Wit of most Companies; to have been disturbed, and dumb, & bashful as children, when some other man has been near, who used to out-talk them. Such a kind of natural sovereignty there is, in some men's minds over others: which must needs be far greater, when it is advanced by long use & the venerable name of a Master. I shall only mention one prejudice more, & that is this; That from this only teaching, and learning, there does not only follow a continuance, but an increase of the yoke upon our Reasons. For those who take their opinions from others Rules, are commonly stricter Imposers upon their Scholars, than their own Authors were on them, or than the first Inventors of things themselves are upon others. Whatever the cause of this be; whether the first men are made meek, and gentle, by their long search, and by better understanding all the difficulties of Knowledge; while those that learn afterwards, only hastily catching things in small Systems, are soon satisfied, before they have broken their pride, & so become more imperious: or, whether it arises from hence, that the same meanness of Soul, which made them bound their thoughts by others Precepts, makes them also insolent to their inferiors; as we always find cowards the most cruel: or whatever other cause may be alleged, the observation is certain, that the successors are usually more positive, and Tyrannical, than the beginners of Sects.  
If then there can be any cure devised for this; it must be no other, than to form an Assembly at one time, whose privileges shall be the same; whose gain shall be in common; whose Members were not brought up at the feet of each other. But after all, even this cannot be free from prevarication in all future Ages. So apt are some to distrust, and others to confide too much in themselves: so much sweetness there is, in leading parties: so much pride, in following a Faction: such various artifices there are, to ensnare men's Passions, and soon after their Understandings. All these hazards, and many more, are to be supposed; which it is impossible, for mortal Wit, wholly to foresee, much less to avoid. But yet we have less ground of jealousy from this Institution, than any other, not only, because they only deal in matters of Fact, which are not so easily perverted; but also upon security of the Inclinations of the greatest part of the Members of the Society itself. This, I hope, most men will acknowledge, and I will take the permission, to say in general of them, that in all past and present times, I am confident, there can never be shown, so great a Number of Contemporaries, in so narrow a space of the World, that loved truth so zealously; sought it so constantly; and upon whose labours, mankind might so freely rely. This I speak, not out of Bravery to Foreiners (before whose eyes, I believe this negligent Discourse will never appear) but to the learned Men of this Nation, who are better Judges of what I say. And this too, I dare affirm, in an Age, wherein I expect to be condemned of falsehood, or partiality, for this Character, which I have given. For so it happens, that we are now arrived at that excessive censuring humour, that he who takes upon him to commend any thing, though never so worthy, will raise to himself far more Enemies than Friends. And indeed this sowrness of Criticism, which now bears all down before it, is very injurious to the honour of our Country. For by despising men, for not being absolutely excellent; we keep them from being so: while admonitions, joined with praises; and reproofs, with directions; would quickly bring all things to a higher perfection. But the rudeness of such Critics, I do not so much regard; as the objections of soberer men, who have a real good will to the promotion of this design, and yet may be a little dissatisfied in this place. For here especially they may doubt of two things. The first, whether the Royal Society, being so numerous as it is, will not in short time be diverted from its primitive purpose; seeing there will be scarce enough men of Philosophical temper always found, to fill it up; and than others will crowd in, who have not the same bent of mind; and so the whole business will insensibly be made, rather a matter of noise and pomp, than of real benefit? The second, Whether their number being so large, will not affright private men, from imparting many profitable secrets to them; lest they should thereby become common, and so they be deprived of the gain, which else they might be sure of, if they kept them to themselves.  
To the first, 
Sect. VIII. A defence of the largeness of their number.  I shall reply, That this scruple is of no force, in respect of the Age wherein we live. For now the Genius of Experimenting is so much dispersed, that even in this Nation, if there were one, or two more such Assemblies settled; there could not be wanting able men enough, to carry them on. All places and corners are now busy, and warm about this Work: and we find many Noble Rarities to be every day given in, not only by the hands of Learned and professed Philosophers; but from the Shops of Mechanics; from the Voyages of Merchants; from the Ploughs of Husbandmen; from the Sports, the Fishponds, the Parks, the Gardens of Gentlemen; the doubt therefore will only touch future Ages. And even for them too, we may securely promise; that they will not, for a long time be barren of a Race of Inquisitive minds, when the way is now so plainly traced out before them; when they shall have tasted of these first Fruits, and have been excited by this Example. There was scarce ever yet, any the meanest Sect, or the most contemptible Opinion, that was utterly extinguished in its Cradle. Whether they deserved to live, or not, they all had their course; some longer, some shorter; according as they could combine with the Interests, or affections, of the Countries where they began. What reason then have we to bode ill alone to this Institution; which is now so earnestly embraced; and which, the older it grows, cannot but still appear more inoffensive? If we only required perfect Philosophers, to manage this employment, it were another case. For than I grant it were improbable, that threescore, or an hundred such should meet in one time. But here it is far otherwise. If we cannot have a sufficient choice of those that are skilled in all Divine and human things (which was the ancient definition of a Philosopher) it suffices, if many of them be plain, diligent, and laborious observers: such, who, though they bring not much knowledge, yet bring their hands, and their eyes uncorrupted: such as have not their Brains infected by false Images; and can honestly assist in the examining, and Registering what the others represent to their view. It seems strange to me, that men should conspire, to believe all things more perplexed, and difficult, than indeed they are. This may be shown in most other matters; but in this particular in hand, it is most evident. Men did generally think, that no man was sit to meddle in matters of this consequence, but he that had bred himself up in a long course of Discipline for that purpose; that had the habit, the gesture, the look of a Philosopher. Whereas experience on the contrary tells us, that greater things are produced, by the free way, than the formal. This mistake may well be compared, to the conceit we had of Soldiers, in the beginning of the civil Wars. None was thought worthy of that name, but he that could show his wounds, and talk aloud of his exploits in the Low Countries. Whereas the whole business of fight, was afterwards chiefly performed by untravelled Gentlemen, raw Citizens, and Generals, that had scarce ever before seen a Battle. But to say no more, it is so far from being a blemish; that it is rather the excellency of this Institution, that men of various Studies are introduced. For so there will be always many sincere witnesses standing by, whom self-love will not persuade to report falsely, nor heat of invention carry to swallow a deceit too soon; as having themselves no hand in the making of the Experiment, but only in the Inspection. So cautious ought men to be, in pronouncing even upon Matters of Fact. The whole care is not to be trusted to single men: not to a Company all of one mind; not to Philosophers; not to devout, and religious men alone: By all these we have been already deluded; even by those whom I last named, who ought most of all to abhor falsehood; of whom yet many have multiplied upon us, infinite Stories, and false Miracles, without any regard to Conscience, or Truth.  
To the second Objection I shall briefly answer; that if all the Authors, or Possessors of extraordinary inventions, should conspire to conceal all, that was in their power, from them; yet the Method, which they take, will quickly make abundant reparation for that defect. If they cannot come at Nature in its particular Streams, they will have it in the Fountain. If they could be shut out from the Closets of Physicians, or the Work-houses of Mechanics; yet with the same, or with better sorts of Instruments, on more materials, by more hands, with a more rational light, they would not only restore again the old Arts, but find out, perhaps, many more of far greater importance. But I need not lay much tress upon that hope; when there is no question at all, but all, or the greatest part of such Domestic Receipts, and Curiosities, will soon flow into this public Treasure. How few secrets have there been, though never so gainful, that have been long concealed from the whole World by their Authors? Were not all the least Arts of life at first private? Were not Watches, or Locks, or Guns, or Printing, or lately the Bow-dye, devised by particular men, but soon made common? If neither chance, nor friendship, nor Treachery of servants, have brought such things out; yet we see ostentation alone, to be every day powerful enough to do it. This desire of glory, and to be counted Authors; prevails on all, even on many of the dark and reserved Chemists themselves: who are ever printing their greatest mysteries; though indeed they seem to do it, with so much reluctancy, and with a willingness to hide still; which makes their style to resemble the smoke, in which they deal. Well then, if this disposition be so universal; why should we think, that the Inventors, will be only tender, and backward to the Royal Society? From which they will not only reap the most solid honour; but will also receive the strongest assurances, of still retaining the greatest part of the profit? But if all this should fail; there still remains a refuge, which will put this whole matter out of dispute: and that is, that the Royal Society will be able by degrees, to purchase such extraordinary inventions, which are now close locked up in Cabinets; and then to bring them into one common Stock, which shall be upon all occasions exposed to all men's use. This is a most heroic Invention: For by such concealments, there may come very much hurt to mankind. If any certain remedy should be found out against an Epidemical disease; if it were suffered to be ingross'd by one man, there would be great swarms swept away, which otherwise might be easily saved. I shall instance in the Sweating-Sickness. The Medicine for it was almost infallible: But, before that could be generally published, it had almost dispeopled whole Towns. If the same disease should have returned, it might have been again as destructive, had not the Lord Bacon taken care, to set down the particular course of Physic for it, in his History of Henry the Seventh, and so put it beyond the possibility of any private man's invading it. This aught to be imitated in all other sovereign cures of the like nature, to avoid such dreadful casualties. The Artificers should reap the common crop of their Arts: but the public should still have Title to the miraculous productions. It should be so appointed, as it is in the profits of men's Lands: where the Corn, and Grass, and Timber, and some courser Metals belong to the owner: But the Royal Mines, in whose ground soever they are discovered, are no man's propriety, but still fall to the Crown.  
These therefore are the Qualities, which they have principally required, in those, whom they admitted: still reserving to themselves a power of increasing, or keeping to their number, as they saw occasion. By this means, they have given assurance of an eternal quietness, and moderation, in their experimental progress; because they allow themselves to differ in the weightiest matter, even in the way of Salvation itself. By this they have taken care, that nothing shall be so remote, as to escape their reach: because some of their Members are still scattered abroad, in most of the habitable parts of the Earth. By this, they have provided, that no profitable thing shall seem too mean for their consideration, seeing they have some amongst them, whose life is employed about little things, as well as great. By this they have broken down the partition wall, and made a fair entrance, for all conditions of men to engage in these Studies; which were heretofore affrighted from them, by a groundless apprehension of their chargeableness, and difficulty. Thus they have formed that Society, which intends a Philosophy, for the use of Cities, and not for the retirements of Schools, to resemble the Cities themselves: which are compounded of all sorts of men, of the Gown, of the Sword, of the Shop, of the Field, of the Court, of the Sea; all mutually assisting each other.  

Sect. IX. Their course of Inquiry.  Let us next consider what course of Inquiry they take, to make all their Labours unite for the service of mankind: And here I shall insist on their Expense, their Instruments, their Matter, and their Method.  
Of the Stock, 
Their Expense.  upon which their Expense has been hitherto defrayed, I can say nothing, that is very magnificent: seeing they have relied upon no more than some small Admission-money, and weekly Contributions amongst themselves. Such a Revenue as this, can make no great sound, nor amount to any vast sum. But yet, I shall say this for it, that it was the only way, which could have been begun, with a security of success, in that condition of things. The public Faith of Experimental Philosophy, was not then strong enough, to move Men and Women of all conditions, to bring in their Bracelets and Jewels, towards the carrying of it on. Such affections as those may be raised by a misguided zeal; but seldom, or never, by calm and unpassionate Reason. It was therefore well ordained, that the first Benevolence should come from the Experimenters themselves. If they had speedily at first called for mighty Treasures; and said aloud, that their Enterprise required the Exchequer of a Kingdom; they would only have been contemned, as vain Projectors. So ready is mankind, to suspect all new undertake to be Cheats, and Chimaeraes; especially, when they seem chargeable: that it may be, many excellent things have been lost by that jealousy. Of this we have a fatal Instance amongst ourselves. For it was this fear of being circumvented, that made one of our wisest Kings delay Columbus too long, when he came with the promise of a new World: whereas a little more confidence in his Art, and a small charge in furnishing out some few Ships, would have yearly brought all the Silver of the West-Indies to London, which now arrives at Sevill.  
This suspicion, which is so natural to men's breasts, could not any way harm the Royal Societies establishment: seeing its first claims, and pretensions were so modest. And yet I shall presume to assure the World; that what they shall raise on these mean Foundations, will be more answerable to the largeness of their intentions, than to the narrowness of their beginnings. This I speak so boldly, not only because it is almost generally found true; that those things, which have been small at first, have oftener grown greater, than those which have begun upon a wider bottom, which have commonly stood at a stay: But also in respect of the present prevailing Genius of the English Nation. It is most usually found, that every People, has some one study or other in their view, about which their minds are most intent, and their Purses readier to open. This is sometimes a profusion in Habit, and Diet; sometimes Religious Buildings; and sometimes the Civil Ornaments of their Cities, and Country. The first of these will shortly vanish from amongst us, by the irresistible correction of the King's own example: the next is of late years very sensibly abated: and it is the last of the three towards which men's desires are most propense. To evidence this; I think it may be calculated, that since the Kings Return, there have been more Acts of Parliament, for the clearing and beautifying of Streets, for the repairing of Highways, for the cutting of Rivers, for the increase of Manufactures, for the setting on foot the Trade of Fishing, and many other such Public Works, to adorn the State; than in divers Ages before. This General Temper being well weighed; it cannot be imagined, that the Nation will withdraw its assistance from the Royal Society alone; which does not intend to stop at some particular benefit, but goes to the root of all noble Inventions, and proposes an infallible course to make England the glory of the Western world.  
This my Love, and my Hopes prompt me to say. But besides this, there is one thing more, that persuades me, that the Royal Society will be Immortal. And that is, that if their Stock should still continue narrow, yet even upon that, they will be able to free themselves from all difficulties, and to make a constant increase of it, by their managing. There is scarce any thing, has more hindered the True Philosophy; than a vain opinion, that men have taken up, that nothing could be done in it, to any purpose, but upon a vast charge, and by a mighty Revenue. Men commonly think, that the pit, in which (according to Democritus) Truth lies hid, is bottomless: and that it will devour, whatever is thrown into it, without being the fuller. This false conception had got so much ground, that assoon as a man began to put his hands to Experiments, he was presently given over, as impoverished and undone. And indeed the Enemies of Real Knowledge, had some appearance of Reason to conclude this heretofore: because they had seen the great Estates of some Chemists melted away, without any thing left behind, to make recompense. But this imagination can now no longer prevail. Men now understand, that Philosophy needs not so great a prodigality to maintain it: that the most profitable Trials are not always the most costly: that the best Inventions have not been found out by the richest, but by the most prudent, and Industrious Observers: that the right Art of Experimenting, when it is once set forward, will go near to sustain itself. This I speak, not to stop men's future Bounty, by a Philosophical Boast, that the Royal Society has enough already: But rather to encourage them to cast in more help; by showing them, what return may be made from a little, by a wise administration.  

Sect. X. Their Instruments.  Of the variety, and excellence of the Instruments, which it lies in their power to use; I will give no other proof, than the wonderful perfection to which all Manual Arts have of late years arrived. Men now generally understand, to employ those very Tools which the Ancients lent us, to infinite more Works, than formerly: they have also of late devised a great multitude of all sorts, which were before unknown: and besides, we may very well expect, that time will every day bring forth more. For, according as the matter to work upon does abound, the greater plenty of Instruments, must by consequence follow: such a connexion there is between Inventions, and the means of Inventing, that they mutually increase each other.  
I might be as large, as I pleased, in this particular; in running through some part of all the Innumerable Arts of the Western world; and it were not difficult to show, that the ordinary shops of Mechanics, are now as full of rarities, as the Cabinets of the former noblest Mathematicians. But I will leave that subject, which is so familiar to all; and choose rather, to fetch a confirmation of this, even from those Country's, which (after the manner of the Ancients) we call Barbarous. And in going thither for an example, I have a farther end. In my foregoing discourse, I tried to make out the advantages of the Modern Times, above the ancient; by following the progress of Learning, down through their tracks, to which Scholars usually confine it; I will now also strengthen that argument; by briefly comparing the skill, and the works of the unlearned parts of the present world, with those that are past. The ancient Barbarians then, those Nations I mean, who lay without the circle of those Arts which we admire; the Gauls, the Britain's, the Germans, the Scythians, have scarce left any footsteps behind them, to show that they were rational men. Most of them were savage in their practices; gross in their contrivances; ignorant of all, that might make life either safe, or pleasant. Thus it was with them, and this all History speaks with one voice: whereas the Barbarians of our Times (if I may take the liberty still to use that word, which the pride of Greece first brought into fashion) the Turks, the Moors, the East-Indians, and even the Americans, though they too are utterly unacquainted with all our Sciences; yet by the help of an Universal Light, which seems to overspread this Age, are in several Handicrafts most ready, and dextrous: insomuch that in some, they can scarce be imitated by the Europeans themselves. I shall leave it to any man, to conjecture from hence, which of these two times has the Prerogative; and how much better helps are probably to be found at this day, in the most Civil Countries: when we now find so much artifice, amongst those our Contemporaries, who only follow rude, and untaught Nature.  
Of the extent of the matter, 
Sect. XI. Their matter.  about which they have been already conversant, and intent to be hereafter; there can be no better measure taken, than by giving a general prospect of all the objects of men's thoughts: which can be nothing else, but either God, or Men, or Nature.  
As for the First, they meddle no otherwise with Divine things, than only as the Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness of the Creator, is displayed in the admirable order, and workmanship of the Creatures. It cannot be denied, but it lies in the Natural Philosopher's hands, best to advance that part of Divinity: which, though it fills not the mind, with such tender, and powerful contemplations, as that which shows us Man's Redemption by a Mediator; yet it is by no means to be passed by unregarded: but is an excellent ground to establish the other. This is a Religion, which is confirmed, by the unanimous agreement of all sorts of Worships: and may serve in respect to Christianity, as Solomon's Porch to the Temple; into the one the Heathens themselves did also enter; but into the other, only God's peculiar People.  
In men, may be considered the Faculties, and operations of their Souls; The constitution of their Bodies, and the works of their Hands. Of these, the first they omit: both because the knowledge and direction of them have been before undertaken, by some Arts, on which they have no mind to entrench, as the Politics, Morality, and Oratory: and also because the Reason, the Understanding, the Tempers, the Will, the Passions of Men, are so hard to be reduced to any certain observation of the senses; and afford so much room to the observers to falsify or counterfeit: that if such discourses should be once entertained; they would be in danger of falling into talking, instead of working, which they carefully avoid. Such subjects therefore as these, they have hitherto kept out. But yet, when they shall have made more progress, in material things, they will be in a condition, of pronouncing more boldly on them too. For, though Man's Soul, and Body are not only one natural Engine (as some have thought) of whose motions of all sorts, there may be as certain an account given, as of those of a Watch or Clock: yet by long studying of the Spirits, of the Blood, of the Nourishment, of the parts, of the Diseases, of the Advantages, of the accidents which belong to humane bodies (all which will come within their Province) there, without question, be very near ghesses made, even at the more exalted, and immediate Actions of the Soul; and that too, without destroying its Spiritual and Immortal Being.  
These two Subjects, God, and the Soul, being only forborn: In all the rest, they wander, at their pleasure: In the frame of men's bodies, the ways for strong, healthful, and long life: In the Arts of men's Hands, those that either necessity, convenience, or delight have produced: In the works of Nature, their helps, their varieties, redundancies, and defects: and in bringing all these to the uses of humane Society.  
In their Method of Enquiring, 
Sect. XII. Their Method of Inquiry.  I will observe, how they have behaved themselves, in things that might be brought within their own Touch and Sight: and how in those, which are so remote, and hard to be come by, that about them, they were forced to trust the reports of others.  
In the first kind: I shall lay it down, as their Fundamental Law, that whenever they could possibly get to handle the subject, the Experiment was still performed by some of the Members themselves. The want of this exactness, has very much diminished the credit of former Naturalists. It might else have seemed strange, that so many men of Wit, setting so many hands on work; being so watchful to catch up all relations, from Woods, Fields, Mountains, Rivers, Seas, and Lands; and scattering their Pensions so liberally; should yet be able to collect so few Observations, that have been judicious or useful. But the Reason is plain; for while they thought it enough, to be only Receivers of others Intelligence; they have either employed Ignorant searchers, who knew not how to digest or distinguish what they found: or frivolous, who always loved to come home laden, though it were but with trifles: or (which is worst of all) crafty, who having perceived the humours of those that paid them so well, would always take care to bring in such collections as might seem to agree with the Opinions and Principles of their Masters, however they did with Nature itself.  
This Inconvenience, the Royal Society has escaped, by making the whole process pass under its own eyes. And the Task was divided amongst them, by one of these two ways. First, it was sometimes referred to some particular men, to make choice of what Subject they pleased, and to follow their own humour in the Trial; the expense being still allowed from the general Stock. By which liberty, that they afforded, they had a very necessary regard to the power of particular Inclinations: which in all sorts of Knowledge is so strong; that there may be numberless Instances given of men, who in some things have been altogether useless, and yet in others have had such a vigorous, and successful faculty, as if they had been born, and formed for them alone.  
Or else secondly, the Society itself made the distribution, and deputed whom it thought fit for the prosecution of such, or such Experiments. And this they did, either by allotting the same Work to several men, separated one from another; or else by joining them into Committees (if we may use that word in a Philosophical sense, and so in some measure purge it from the ill sound, which it formerly had) By this union of eyes, and hands there do these advantages arise. Thereby there will be a full comprehension of the object in all its appearances; and so there will be a mutual communication of the light of one Science to another: whereas single labours can be but as a prospect taken upon one side. And also by this fixing of several men's thoughts upon one thing, there will be an excellent cure for that defect, which is almost unavoidable in great Inventors. It is the custom of such earnest, and powerful minds, to do wonderful things in the beginning; but shortly after, to be overborne by the multitude, and weight of their own thoughts; then to yield, and cool by little and little; and at last grow weary, and even to loathe that, upon which they were at first the most eager. This is the wont constitution of great Wits: such tender things, are those exalted Actions of the mind; and so hard it is, for those imaginations, that can run swift, and mighty Races, to be able to travel a long, and a constant journey. The effects of this infirmity have been so remarkable, that we have certainly lost very many Inventions, after they have been in part fashioned, by the mere languishing, and negligence of their Authors. For this, the best provision must be, to join many men together; for it cannot be imagined, that they should be all so violent, and fiery: and so by this mingling of Tempers, the Impetuous men, not having the whole burden on them, may have leisure for intervals to recruit their first heat; and the more judicious, who are not so soon possessed with such raptures, may carry on the others strong conceptions, by soberer degrees, to a full accomplishment.  

Sect XIII. Their way of Inquiry into remote matters.  This they have practised in such things, whereof the matter is common; and wherein they may repeat their labours as they please. But in foreign, and remote affairs, their Intentions, and their Advantages do far exceed all others. For these, they have begun to settle a correspondence through all Country's; and have taken such order, that in short time, there will scarce a Ship come up the Thames, that does not make some return of Experiments, as well as of Merchandise.  
This their care of an Universal Intelligence, is befriended by Nature its self, in the situation of England: For, lying so, as it does, in the passage between the Northern parts of the World, and the Southern; its Ports being open to all Coasts, and its Ships spreading their Sails in all Seas; it is thereby necessarily made, not only Mistress of the Ocean, but the most proper Seat, for the advancement of Knowledge. From the positions of Country's, arise not only their several shapes, manners, customs, colours, but also their different Arts, and Studies. The Inland and Continent, we see do give Laws, to Discourse, to Habits, to Behaviour: but those that border upon the Seas, are most properly seated, to bring home matter for new Sciences, and to make the same proportion of Discoveries above others, in the Intellectual Globe, as they have done in the Material.  
Upon this advantage of our Island, there is so much stress to be laid, towards the prosperity of this Design; that if we should search through all the World, for a perpetual habitation, wherein the Universal Philosophy might settle itself; there can none be found, which is comparable to London, of all the former, or present Seats of Empire. Babylon, that was the Capital City of the first Monarchy, was situated in a Champion Country, had a clear, and uncloudy air; and was therefore fit enough to promote one part of Natural Knowledge, the Observations of the Heavens: But it was a Midland Town, and regarded not the Traffic of Foreiners; abounding with its own luxury, and riches. Memphis was improper, upon the same account; for Egypt was a Land content with its own plenty; admitting strangers, rather to instruct them, than to learn any thing from them. Carthage stood not so well for a resort for Philosophers, as for Pirates; as all the African shore continues at this day. As for Rome, its Fortune was read by Virgil; when he said, that it only aught to excel in the Arts of Ruling. Constantinople, though its present Masters were not Barbarous, yet is too much shut up by the Straits of Hellespont. Vienna is now a Frontier Town, and has no communication with the Ocean, but by a long compass about. Amsterdam is a place of Trade, without the mixture of men of freer thoughts. And, even Paris itself, though it is far to be preferred before all the others for the resort of Learned and Inquisitive men to it, yet is less capable, for the same reasons, for which Athens was, by being the Seat of Gallantry, the Arts of speech, and education. But it is London alone, that enjoys most of the others advantages, without their inconveniences. It is the head of a mighty Empire, the greatest that ever commanded the Ocean: It is composed of Gentlemen, as well as Traders: It has a large intercourse with all the Earth: It is, as the Poets describe their House of Fame, a City, where all the noises and business in the World do meet: and therefore this honour is justly due to it, to be the constant place of residence for that Knowledge, which is to be made up of the Reports, and Intelligence of all Country's.  
To this I will add; That we have another help in our hands, which almost forces this Crown on the head of the English Nation: and that is, the Noble, and Inquisitive Genius of our Merchants. This cannot be better shown, than by comparing them, with those of that one Country; which only stands in competition with us for Trade. The Merchants of England live honourably in foreign parts; those of Holland meanly, minding their gain alone: ours converse freely, and learn from all; having in their behaviour, very much of the Gentility of the Families, from which so many of them are descended: The others, when they are abroad, show, that they are only a Race of plain Citizens, keeping themselves most within their own Cells, and Warehouses; scarce regarding the acquaintance of any, but those, with whom they traffic. This largeness of ours, and narrowness of their living, does, no doubt, conduce very much to enrich them; and is, perhaps, one of the Reasons, that they can so easily undersell us: But withal, it makes ours the most capable, as theirs unfit, to promote such an Enterprise, as this of which I am now speaking. For indeed, the effects of their several ways of life, are as different: of the Hollanders, I need say no more: But of the English Merchants I will affirm, that in all sorts of Politeness, and skill in the World, and humane affairs, they do not only excel them, but are equal to any other sort of men amongst us.  
This I have spoken, not to lessen the reputation of that Industrious people: But, that I might (if it were possible) inflame their minds to an emulation of this Design. They have all things imaginable to stir them up: they have the Examples of the greatest Wits of other Countries, who have left their own homes, to retire thither, for the freedom of their Philosophical Studies: they have one place (I mean the Hague) which may be soon made the very Copy of a Town in the New Atlantis; which for its pleasantness, and for the concourse of men of all conditions to it, may be counted above all others (except London) the most advantageously seated for this service.  
These have been the privileges and practices of the Royal Society, in things foreign, & Native. It would now be needless to set down all the steps of their progress about them; how they observed all the varieties of Generations, and corruptions, natural, and artificial; all the increasings, and lessenings; agreements, and oppositions of things; how, having found out a cause, they have applied it to many other effects: and the effects to different causes; how they are wont to change the Instruments and places, and quantities of matter, according to occasions: and all the other subtleties, and windings of Trial, which are almost infinite to express. I shall only, in passing, touch on these two things, which they have most carefully consulted.  
The one is, not to prescribe to themselves, any certain Art of Experimenting, within which to circumscribe their thoughts: But rather to keep themselves free, and change their course, according to the different circumstances, that occur to them in their operations; and the several alterations of the Bodies, on which they work. The true Experimenting has this one thing inseparable from it, never to be a fixed and settled Art, and never to be limited by constant Rules. This, perhaps, may be shown too in other Arts; as in that of Invention, of which, though in Logic, and Rhetoric, so many bounds, and helps are given: yet I believe very few have argued or discoursed by those Topics. But whether that be unconfined, or no, it is certain, that Experimenting is; like that which is called Decence in humane life; which, though it be that, by which all our Actions are to be fashioned; and though many things may be plausibly said upon it; yet it is never wholly to be reduced to standing Precepts; and may almost as easily be obtained, as defined.  
Their other care has been, to regard the least, and the plainest things, and those that may appear at first the most inconsiderable; as well as the greatest Curiosities. This was visibly neglected by the Ancients. The Histories of Pliny, Aristotle, Solinus, Aelian, abounding more with pretty Tales, and fine monstrous Stories; than sober, and fruitful Relations. If they could gather together some extraordinary Qualities of Stones, or Minerals, some Rarities of the Age, the food, the colour, the shapes of Beasts, or some virtues of Fountains, or Rivers: they thought, they had performed the chiefest part of Natural Historians. But this course is subject to much corruption. It is not the true following of Nature; For that still goes on in a steady Rode, nor is it so extravagant, and so artificial in its contrivances, as our admiration, proceeding from our ignorance, makes it. It is also a way that of all others, is most subject to be deceived: For it will make men inclinable to bend the Truth much awry, to raise a specious Observation out of it. It stops the severe progress of Inquiry: Infecting the mind, and making it averse from the true Natural Philosophy: It is like Romances, in respect of True History; which, by multiplying varieties of extraordinary Events, and surprising circumstances, makes that seem dull, and tasteless. And, to say no more, the very delight which it raises, is nothing so solid: but, as the satisfaction of Fancy, it affects us a little, in the beginning, but soon wearies, and surfeits: whereas a just History of Nature, like the pleasure of Reason, would not be, perhaps, so quick and violent, but of far longer continuance, in its contentment.  
Their Matter, 
Sect. XIV. Their weekly Assemblies.  being thus collected, has been brought before their weekly meetings, to undergo a just and a full examination. In them their principal endeavours have been, that they might enjoy the benefits of a mixed Assembly, which are largeness of Observation, and diversity of Judgements, without the mischiefs that usually accompany it, such as confusion, unsteddiness, and the little animosities of divided Parties. That they have avoided these dangers for the time past; there can be no better proof, than their constant practice; wherein they have perpetually preserved a singular sobriety of debating, slowness of consenting, and moderation of dissenting. Nor have they been only free from Faction, but from the very Causes, and beginnings of it. It was in vain for any man amongst them to strive to prefer himself before another; or to seek for any great glory from the subtlety of his Wit; seeing it was the inartificial process of the Experiment, and not the Acuteness of any Commentary upon it, which they have had in veneration. There was no room left, for any to attempt, to heat their own, or others minds, beyond a due temper; where they were not allowed to expatiate, or amplify, or connect specious arguments together. They could not be much exasperated one against another in their disagreements, because they acknowledge, that there may be several Methods of Nature, in producing the same thing, and all equally good: whereas they that contend for truth by talking, do commonly suppose that there is but one way of finding it out. The differences which should chance to happen, might soon be composed; because they could not be grounded on matters of speculation, or opinion, but only of sense; which are never wont to administer so powerful occasions of disturbance, and contention, as the other. In brief, they have escaped the prejudices that use to arise from Authority, from unequality of Persons, from insinuations, from friendships; But above all, they have guarded themselves against themselves, lest the strength of their own thoughts should lead them into error; lest their good Fortune in one Discovery, should presently confine them only to one way of trial; lest their failings should discourage, or their success abate their diligence. All these excellent Philosophical Qualities, they have by long custom, made to become the peculiar Genius of this Society: and to descend down to their successors, not only as circumstantial Laws, which may be neglected, or altered in the course of time; but as the very life of their constitution; to remain on their minds, as the laws of Nature do in the hearts of Men; which are so near to us, that we can hardly distinguish, whether they were taught us by degrees, or rooted in the very foundation of our Being.  

Sect. XV. The Ceremonies of their meetings.  It will not be here seasonable, to speak much, of the Ceremonies which they have hitherto observed in these Meetings; because they are, almost, the same, which have been since established by their Council, which we shall have a more proper occasion to produce hereafter. Let this only be said in brief, to satisfy the curious.  
The Place where they hitherto assembled, is Gresham-College; where, by the munificence of a Citizen, there have been Lectures for several Arts endowed so liberally, that if it were beyond Sea, it might well pass for an University. And indeed, by a rare happiness in the constitution (of which I know not where to find the like example) the Professors have been from the beginning, and chiefly, of late years, of the most Learned Men of the Nation; though the choice has been wholly in the disposal of Citizens. Here the Royal Society has one public Room to meet in, another for a repository to keep their Instruments, Books, Rarities, Papers, and whatever else belongs to them: making use besides, by permission, of several of the other Lodgings, as their occasions do require. And, when I consider the place itself; me thinks it bears some likeness to their Design; It is now a College, but was once the Mansion-house of one of the greatest Merchants, that ever was in England: And such a Philosophy they would build; which should first wholly consist of Action, and Intelligence, before it be brought into Teaching, and Contemplation.  
There Time is every Wednesday, after the Lecture of the Astronomy Professor; perhaps, in memory of the first occasions of their Rendezvouses.  
Their Elections, performed by Ballotting; every member having a Vote; the Candidates being named at one meeting, and put to the scrutiny at another.  
Their Chief Officer, is the Precedent; to whom it belongs to call, and dissolve their meetings; to propose the Subject; to regulate the Proceedings; to change the Inquiry from one thing to another; to admit the Members who are elected.  
Besides him, they had at first a Register, who was to take Notes of all that passed; which were afterwards to be reduced into their journals, and Register Books. This Task was first performed by Dr. Croone. But they since thought it more necessary, to appoint two Secretaries, who are to reply to all Addresses from abroad, and at home; and to publish whatever shall be agreed upon by the Society. These are at present, Dr. Wilkins, and Mr. Oldenbourgh, from whom I have not usurped this first employment of that kind; for it is only my hand that goes, the substance and direction came from one of them.  
This is all that I have to say concerning their Ceremonial part. In most other things, they bounded themselves to no standing Orders, there being nothing more intended in such circumstances, than convenience and order. If any shall imagine, they have not limited themselves to Forms enough, to keep up the gravity, and solemnity of such an Enterprise, they are to consider, that so much exactness and curiosity of observances, does not so well befit Inquirers, as Sects of Philosophy, or places appointed for Education, or those who submit themselves to the severity of some religious Order. The Work which the Society proposes to itself, being not so fine, and easy, as that of teaching is; but rather a painful digging, and toiling in Nature; It would be a great encumbrance to them, to be straightened to many strict punctilios; as much as it would be to an Artificer, to be loaded with many clothes, while he is labouring in his Shop.  
But having made so much haste through the Formal part of these their Meetings, I shall not so soon dispatch the substantial; which consists in Directing, judging, Conjecturing, Improving, Discoursing upon Experiments.  
Towards the first of these ends, 
Sect. XVI. Their directing Experiments.  it has been their usual course, when they themselves appointed the Trial, to propose one week, some particular Experiments, to be prosecuted the next; and to debate before hand, concerning all things that might conduce to the better carrying them on. In this Praeliminary Collection, it has been the custom, for any of the Society, to urge what came into their thoughts, or memories concerning them; either from the observations of others, or from Books, or from their own Experience, or even from common Fame itself. And in performing this, they did not exercise any great rigour of choosing, and distinguishing between Truths and Falsehoods: but a mass altogether as they came; the certain Works, the Opinions, the Ghesses, the Inventions, with their different Degrees and Accidents, the Probabilities, the Problems, the general Conceptions, the miraculous Stories, the ordinary Productions, the changes incident to the same Matter in several places, the Hindrances, the Benefits, of Airs, or Seasons, or Instruments; and whatever they found to have been begun, to have failed, to have succeeded, in the Matter which was then under their Disquisition.  
This is a most necessary preparation, to any that resolve to make a perfect search. For they cannot but go blindly, and lamely, and confusedly about the business, unless they have first laid before them a full Account of it. I confess the excellent Monsieur des Cartes recommends to us another way in his Philosophical Method; where he gives this Relation of his own progress; that after he had run through the usual Studies of youth, and spent his first years in an active life; when he retired to search into Truth, he at once rejected all the Impressions, which he had before received, from what he had heard, and read; and wholly gave himself over to a reflection on the naked Ideas of his own mind. This he professed to do, that he might lay aside all his old imaginations, and begin anew to write on a white and unblotted Soul. This, perhaps, is more allowable in matters of Contemplation, and in a Gentleman, whose chief aim was his own delight; and so it was in his own choice, whether or no, he would go farther to seek it, than his own mind: But it can by no means stand with a practical and universal Inquiry. It is impossible, but they, who will only transscribe their own thoughts, and disdain to measure or strengthen them by the assistance of others, should be in most of their apprehensions too narrow, and obscure; by setting down things for general, which are only peculiar to themselves. It cannot be avoided, but they will commit many gross mistakes; and bestow much useless pains, by making themselves wilfully ignorant of what is already known, and what concealed. It was tried amongst the Ancients, to find out the pure, and Primitive Language of the World, by breeding up a child so, that he might never hear any man speak. But what was the event of that trial? Instead of obtaining that end, the child was made absolutely dumb thereby. And the like success will that Philosopher find, who shall expect, that, by the keeping his mind free from the Tincture of all others Opinions, it will give him the original, and uninfected Truths of things. All Knowledge is to be got the same way that a Language is, by Industry, Use, and Observation. It must be received, before it can be drawn forth. 'Tis true, the mind of Man is a Glass, which is able to represent to itself, all the Works of Nature: But it can only show those Figures, which have been brought before it: It is no Magical Glass, like that with which Astrologers use to deceive the Ignorant; by making them believe, that therein they may behold the Image of any Place, or Person in the World, though never so far removed from it. I know it may be here suggested; that they, who busy themselves much abroad, about learning the judgements of others, cannot be unprejudiced in what they think. But it is not the knowing, but the peremptory addiction to others Tenants, that sowers and perverts the Understanding. Nay, to go farther; that man, who is throughly acquainted with all sorts of Opinions, is very much more unlikely, to adhere obstinately to any one particular, than he whose head is only filled with thoughts, that are all of one colour.  
It being now so requisite, to premise this general collection: It could not be better made, than by the joint labours of the whole Society. It were an intolerable burden, if it were wholly cast on the Experimenters themselves. For, it is not only true, that those who have the best faculty of Experimenting, are commonly most averse from reading Books; and so it is fit, that this Defect should be supplied by others pains: But also it would too much tyre, and waste, or at least divert their spirits, before they came to the main Work. Whereas the Task being shared amongst so great a number, will become not much more than a business of delight. Well then, by this first Comment, and Discourse upon the Experiment; he, that is to try it, being present; and having so good an opportunity, of comparing so many other men's conceptions with his own, and with the thing itself; must needs have his thoughts more enlarged, his judgement confirmed, his eyes opened to discern, what most compendious helps may be provided; what part of it is more or less useful; and upon what side it may be best attempted: The Truths, which he learns this way, will be his Pattern; the Errors will be his Sea-marks, to teach to avoid the same dangers; the very falsehoods themselves will serve to enlarge, though they do not inform his Understanding. And, indeed, a thousand more advantages will hereby come into the minds of the most Sagacious, and acute Inquirers, which they would never have compassed, if they had been only lest to themselves. I remember, my Lord Bacon some where says; That it is one of the greatest secrets of Nature, that men's Passions are more capable, of being raised to higher degrees in company, than in solitude: and that we sooner grieve, fear, rejoice, love, admire, when we behold many others so moved, than when we are alone. This is true; and the same may be as well affirmed, of most other actions of the mind. In Assemblies, the Wits of most men are sharper, their Apprehensions readier, their Thoughts fuller, than in their Closets. Of this there is an undoubted proof in the Art of speaking. For, let the wittiest, and most eloquent men think as largely as they can, on any subject in private; yet, when they come into the public; and especially, when they have heard others speak before them, their Argument appears quite another thing to them; their former expressions seem too flat, and cold for their present thoughts; their minds swell, and are enlightened, as if at that time they were possessed with the Souls of the whole multitude, before whom they stand.  
Those, 
Sect. XVII. Their judging of the matter of Fact.  to whom the conduct of the Experiment is committed, being dismissed with these advantages, do (as it were) carry the eyes, and the imaginations of the whole company into the Laboratory with them. And after they have performed the Trial, they bring all the History of its process back again to the test. Then comes in the second great Work of the Assembly; which is to judge, and resolve upon the matter of Fact. In this part of their employment, they used to take an exact view of the repetition of the whole course of the Experiment; here they observed all the chances, and the Regularities of the proceeding; what Nature does willingly, what constrained; what with its own power, what by the succours of Art; what in a constant road, and what with some kind of sport and extravagance; industriously marking all the various shapes into which it turns itself, when it is pursued, and by how many secret passages it at last obtains its end; never giving it over till the whole Company has been fully satisfied of the certainty and constancy; or, on the otherside, of the absolute impossibility of the effect. This critical, and reiterated scrutiny of those things, which are the plain objects of their eyes; must needs put out of all reasonable dispute, the reality of those operations, which the Society shall positively determine to have succeeded. If any shall still think it a just Philosophical liberty, to be jealous of resting on their credit: they are in the right; and their dissentings will be most thankfully received, if they be established on solid works, and not only on prejudices, or suspicions. To the Royal Society it will be at any time almost as acceptable, to be confuted, as to discover: seeing, by this means, they will accomplish their main Design: others will be inflamed: many more will labour; and so the Truth will be obtained between them: which may be as much promoted by the contentions of hands, and eyes; as it is commonly injured by those of Tongues. However, that men may not hence undervalue their authority, because they themselves are not willing to impose, and to usurp a dominion over their reason; I will tell them, that there is not any one thing, which is now approved and practised in the World, that is confirmed by stronger evidence, than this, which the Society requires; except only the Holy Mysteries of our Religion. In almost all other matters of Belief, of Opinion, or of Science; the assurance, whereby men are guided, is nothing near so firm, as this. And I dare appeal to all sober men; whether, seeing in all Country's, that are governed by Laws, they expect no more, than the consent of two, or three witnesses, in matters of life, and estate; they will not think, they are fairly dealt withal, in what concerns their Knowledge, if they have the concurring Testimonies of threescore or an hundred?  

Sect. XVIII. Their conjecturing on the Causes.  The History, of the Trial performed, being thus secured, I will next declare, what room they allowed for conjecturing upon the Causes; about which they also took some pains, though in a far different way from the ancient Philosophers; amongst whom, scarce any thing else was regarded, but such general contemplations. This indeed, is the Fatal point, about which so many of the greatest Wits of all Ages have miscarried; and commonly, the greater the Wit, the more has been the danger: so many wary steps ought to be trodden in this uncertain path: such a multitude of pleasing Errors, false Lights, disguised Lies, deceitful Fancies must be escaped: so much care must be taken, to get into the right way at first: so much, to continue in it; and at last, the greatest caution still remaining to be used; lest when the treasure is in our view, we undo all, by catching at it too soon, with too greedy, and rash a hand. These, and many more are the difficulties, to be passed; which I have here with less apprehension reckoned up, because the remedy is so nigh. To this Work therefore the Society approaches, with as much circumspection and modesty, as humane counsels are capable of: They have been cautious, to shun the overweening dogmatizing on causes on the one hand: and not to fall into a speculative Scepticism on the other: and whatever causes they have with just deliberation found to hold good; they still make them increase their benefits, by farther experimenting upon them; and will not permit them to rust or corrupt, for want of use. If after all this▪ they shall not seem wholly to have removed the mischiefs, that attend this hazardous matter; they ought rather to be judged, by what they have done towards it above others, than by what they have not provided against: seeing the thing itself is of that nature; that it is impossible to place the minds of men beyond all condition of erring about it.  
The first Danger that I shall observe in this kind, is an overhasty, and praecipitant concluding upon the Causes, before the Effects have been enough searched into: a finishing the roof, before the foundation has been well laid. For this, I shall first allege this cure; that, though the Experiment was but the private task of one or two, or some such small number; yet the conjecturing, and debating on its consequences, was still the employment of their full, and solemn Assemblies. I have already, upon several occasions, preferred Companies before single endeavours in Philosophical matters; and yet I am not ashamed here to repeat it again; especially, seeing in this place, it is most apparent, to which of them the prerogative of freedom, and clearness of judging, belongs. To this purpose I shall affirm, that there can never be found, in the breast of any particular Philosopher, as much wariness, and coldness of thinking, and rigorous examination; as is needful, to a solid assent, and to a lasting conclusion, on the whole frame of Nature. How can it be imagined, that any single mind can comprehend, and sustain long enough the weight of so many different Opinions, and infinite Observations; when even the best Mathematicians are soon tired, with a long train of the most delightful Propositions, which were before made to their hands? Or, if there could be a man of that vastness of Soul; yet, how can we be assured, that he will hold the scale even? where have we ever had an example of so much straightness, and impartiality of judgement; to persuade us, that the calmest Philosopher will not be insensibly inclined, to prefer his own Doctrines, before those of a stranger? We see all the world flatter themselves in their strength, beauty, nay, even (as some have noted) in their very Statures; the lowest men scarce believing, but that they are tall enough. Why then should they be singly trusted in their votes about their own thoughts; where the comparison of Wit, makes them more eagerly concerned? If we follow the Philosopher home into his study; we shall quickly discover, by how many plausible degrees, the wisest men are apt to deceive themselves, into a sudden confidence of the certainty of their knowledge. We will suppose him, to begin his Inquiry, with all the sincerity imaginable: resolving to pass by no small mistake, and to forgive to himself no slight error in the account; with these fair purposes, he pitches on some particular subject: This he turns, and tortures every way; till, after much labour, he can make some ghesses at its Causes: upon this, his industry increases: he applies the same matter to several other operations: he still finds the effects answer his expectations: Now he begins to mould some general Proposition upon it: he meets with more and more proofs to confirm his judgement: thus he grows by little and little, warmer in his imaginations: the delight of his success swells him: he triumphs and applauds himself, for having found out some important Truth: But now his Trial begins to slacken: now impatience and security creeps upon him: now he carelessly admits whole crowds of Testimonies, that seem any way to confirm that Opinion, which he had before established: now he stops his survey, which ought to have gone forward to many more particulars; and so at last, this sincere, this invincible Observer, out of weariness, or presumption, becomes the most negligent in the later part of his work, in which he ought to have been the most exact. Such is the universal inclination of mankind, to be misled by themselves: which I have mentioned, not to beat down the credit of any particular Philosophers, whose superstructures have not been answerable to the strength of their first assertions: but I have only complained of it in general; as we use to do of Man's mortality, and being subject to diseases: the aggravating of which common infirmities, can never be esteemed by any private man, as an effect of malice, or ill nature.  
But now, on the other side, this doubtfulness of thoughts, this fluctuation, this slowness of concluding, which is so useful in this case, is so natural to a multitude of Counsellors; that it is frequently urged against them, as their inseparable Imperfection. Every man has this Argument in his mouth, wherewith to condemn a great and mixed number of advisers; that their deliberations are so tedious, that commonly the seasons of Action are lost, before they can come to any result. 'Tis true, this unweildiness, and want of dispatch, is most destructive in matters of State, and Government; as Christendom lately felt: But it has a quite contrary influence on Philosophy. It is not here the most speedy, or the swiftest determination of thoughts, that will do the business; here, many delays are required: here, he that can make a solid objection, or ask a seasonable question, will do more good, than he, who shall boldly fix on a hundred ill-grounded resolutions. Every rub is here to be smoothed: every scruple to be plained: every thing to be foreseen: the satisfaction of the reason of all past, present, and future times to be designed: so that here, that which is so much cried down in policy, a striving still to do better, can never be too much regarded.  
Nor is the Society only forearmed against this great inconvenience, this rashness of settling upon causes, by the multitude of Judges that are to be satisfied: but also by their indifferent hearing of all conjectures, that may be made from the Tenants of any Sect of Philosophy; and by touching every effect that comes before them; upon all the varieties of opinions, that have been either of late found out, or revived. By this equality of respect to all parties, it has allowed a sufficient time, to ripen whatever it debated: By this too, it has made itself the common Cherisher, and Umpire of them all: and has taken the right way of finding out, what is good in any one of them. A course, which if the Ancients had more followed, their Sects would not so soon have destroyed each other. It was a most perverse custom amongst their Disciples, not to make any strict choice; to leave some, and embrace others of their Master's Doctrines, but to swallow all at once. He that became a Stoic, an Epicurean, a Peripatetic, in Logic, or Moral Philosophy, or Physics; never stuck, presently to assent to whatever his Founder had said in all the other Sciences: though there was no kind of connexion between his Doctrines in the one, and the other. Thus was the whole image of Philosophy formed in their minds altogether: And what they received so carelessly, they defended the same way; not in parcels, but in gross. Of this the Errors are apparent; for by so partially believing all sorts of Tenants, they had no time to be fully convinced: and so became rather formal Asserters of them, than judicious. And by thus adhering to all; without making any distinction between the Truths, and falsehoods; weaknesses, and strengths of their Sects; they denied to themselves a far more calm, and safe knowledge; which might have been compounded out of them all, by fetching something from one, and something from another.  
This the Royal Society did well foresee: and therefore did not regard the credit of Names, but Things: rejecting or approving nothing, because of the title, which it bears: preserving to itself the liberty of refusing, or liking, as it found: and so advancing its stock, by a sure and a double increase; by adding new Discoveries, and retaining ancient Truths. A largeness, and generosity, which certainly is an excellent Omen of its establishment. In this, methinks, it excels any other Sect; as the Roman Commonwealth, did that of Venice. The later began upon a small stock, and has been careful to preserve itself unmingled, bestowing the freedom of its City very sparingly: And we see, it has been still on the defensive; making no great progress in the World: whereas the Romans, by a far more frank, and honourable counsel, admitted all, that desired to be their confederates; gave the liberty of Roman Citizens to whole Towns, and Country's; excluded none, but those that would obstinately stand out: and so deservedly extended their Empire, as far as the bounds of the civil World did reach.  
The second mischief in this great matter of causes, is an eternal instability, and aversion from assigning of any. This arises, from a violent, and imprudent haste to avoid the first. So easy is the passage from one extreme to another; and so hard it is, to stop in that little point, wherein the right does consist. The truth is, they are both almost equally pernicious: nothing sound is to be expected from those, who will fix blindly on whatever they can lay hold on: and nothing great from them, who will always wander; who will never leave disputing, whether they dream; or wake; whether there is any motion; whether they have any being, or no: the one can produce nothing, but unwholesome, and rotten fruits: and the other, for fear of that, will endeavour to have no Harvest, nor Autumn at all.  
To this fault of Sceptical doubting, the Royal Society may perhaps be suspected, to be a little too much inclined: because they always professed, to be so backward from settling of Principles, or fixing upon Doctrines. But if we fairly consider their intentions, we shall soon acquit them. Though they are not yet very daring, in establishing conclusions; yet they lay no injunctions upon their successors not to do the same, when they shall have got a sufficient store for such a work. It is their study, that the way to attain a solid speculation, should every day be more and more pursued: which is to be done, by a long forbearing of speculation at first, till the matters be ripe for it; and not, by madly rushing upon it in the very beginning. Though they do not contemplate much on the general agreements of things; yet they do on the particular: from whence the others also will in time be deduced. They are therefore as far from being Sceptics, as the greatest Dogmatists themselves. The Sceptics deny all, both Doctrines, and Works. The Dogmatists determine on Doctrines, without a sufficient respect to Works: and this Assembly, (though we should grant, that they have wholly omitted Doctrines) yet they have been very positive and affirmative in their Works. But more than this, It must also be confessed, that sometimes after a full inspection▪ they have ventured to give the advantage of probability to one Opinion, or Cause, above another: Nor have they run any manner of hazard by thus concluding. For first, it is likely, they did hit the right, after so long, so punctual, and so gradual an examination: or if we suppose the worst, that they should sometimes judge amiss (as we cannot but allow they may; seeing it will not be just to bestow infallibility on them alone; while we deny it to all others) yet they have taken care, that their weaker reasonings, and even their Errors, cannot be very prejudicial to Posterity. The causes, upon which they have agreed, they did not presently extend, beyond their due strength, to all other things, that seem to bear some resemblance to what they tried. Whatever they have resolved upon; they have not reported, as unalterable Demonstrations, but as present appearances: delivering down to future Ages, with the good success of the Experiment, the manner of their progress, the Instruments, and the several differences of the matter, which they have applied: so that, with their mistake, they give them also the means of finding it out. To this I shall add, that they have never affirmed any thing, concerning the cause, till the trial was passed: whereas, to do it before, is a most venomous thing in the making of Sciences: for whoever has fixed on his Cause, before he has experimented; can hardly avoid fitting his Experiment, and his Observations, to his own Cause, which he had before imagined; rather than the Cause to the truth of the Experiment itself. But, in a word, they have hitherto made little other benefit of the causes, to which they have consented; than that thereby they might have a firm footing, whereon new operations may proceed. And for this Work, I mean a continuation, and variation of the Inquiry; the tracing of a false Cause, doth very often so much conduce; that, in the progress, the right has been discovered by it. It is not to be questioned, but many inventions of great moment, have been brought forth by Authors, who began upon suppositions, which afterwards they found to be untrue. And it frequently happens to Philosophers, as it did to Columbus: who first believed the clouds, that hovered about the Continent, to be the firm Land: But his mistake was happy; for, by sailing towards them, he was led to what he sought: so by prosecuting of mistaken Causes, with a resolution of not giving over the pursuit; they have been guided to the truth itself.  
The last Defect is, the rendering of Causes barren: that when they have been found out, they have been suffered to lie idle; and have been only used, to increase thoughts, and not works. This negligence is of all others the most dangerous: It is a Shipwreck in the end of the voyage, and thence the more to be pitied: It is a corruption, that both hinders additions, and eats out the knowledge that has been already obtained: It is the fault of Philosophers, and not of mere Inquirers; of those that have been successful, and not of the unfortunate in their search: and therefore it is, as the miscarriages of those, that are prosperous in humane actions; which are always observed to be more destructive, and harder to be cured, than the failings of the afflicted, or those that are still in pursuit.  
To this the Royal Society has applied a double prevention; 
Sect XIX. Their way of Improving.  both by endeavouring to strike out new Arts, as they go along; and also, by still improving all to new experiments.  
Of the possibility of their performing the first; and the Method, which is to be taken about it; I shall shortly speak in another place. It is enough here, to say; that by this, they have taken care, to satisfy the hopes of the present times; which else might justly languish, and grow cold about this enterprise: if they once saw, that nothing would be ripe in their days; but that all was to come up hereafter, for the advantage of those, that are yet unborn. They consulted the good of Future times; but have not neglected their own; they have practised both the parts of good Husbandry; planting Trees, and sowing Corn. This later, for their own speedy benefit, and support; and the other, for the profit, and ornament of after-Ages.  
Nor have they suffered their diligence to be swallowed up, by the pleasures, and enjoyments of present discoveries; but have still submitted their noblest Inventions, to be made Instruments, and means, for the finding out of others. This certainly is the most comprehensive, and unerring Method; at once to make use of that assistance, they give, and to force them, to be farther helpful to greater ends. There is nothing of all the works of Nature, so inconsiderable, so remote, or so fully known; but, by being made to reflect on other things, it will at once enligten them, and show itself the clearer. Such is the dependence amongst all the orders of creatures; the inanimate, the sensitive, the rational, the natural, the artificial: that the apprehension of one of them, is a good step towards the understanding of the rest: And this is the highest pitch of humane reason; to follow all the links of this chain, till all their secrets are open to our minds; and their works advanced, or imitated by our hands. This is truly to command the world; to rank all the varieties, and degrees of things, so orderly one upon another; that standing on the top of them, we may perfectly behold all that are below, and make them all serviceable to the quiet, and peace, and plenty of Man's life. And to this happiness, there can be nothing else added: but that we make a second advantage of this rising ground, thereby to look the nearer into heaven: An ambition, which though it was punished in the old World, by an universal Confusion; when it was managed with impiety, and insolence: yet, when it is carried on by that humility and innocence, which can never be separated from true knowledge; when it is designed, not to brave the Creator of all things, but to admire him the more: it must needs be the utmost perfection of humane Nature.  
Thus they have directed, 
Sect. XX. Their manner of Discourse.  judged, conjectured upon, and improved Experiments. But lastly, in these, and all other businesses, that have come under their care; there is one thing more, about which the Society has been most solicitous; and that is, the manner of their Discourse: which, unless they had been very watchful to keep in due temper, the whole spirit and vigour of their Design, had been soon eaten out, by the luxury and redundance of speech. The ill effects of this superfluity of talking, have already overwhelmed most other Arts and Professions; insomuch, that when I consider the means of happy living, and the causes of their corruption, I can hardly forbear recanting what I said before; and concluding, that eloquence ought to be banished out of all civil Societies, as a thing fatal to Peace and good Manners. To this opinion I should wholly incline; if I did not find, that it is a Weapon, which may be as easily procured by bad men, as good: and that, if these should only cast it away, and those retain it; the naked Innocence of virtue, would be upon all occasions exposed to the armed Malice of the wicked. This is the chief reason, that should now keep up the Ornaments of speaking, in any request: since they are so much degenerated from their original usefulness. They were at first, no doubt, an admirable Instrument in the hands of Wise Men: when they were only employed to describe Goodness, Honesty, Obedience; in larger, fairer, and more moving Images: to represent Truth, clothed with Bodies; and to bring Knowledge back again to our very senses, from whence it was at first derived to our understandings. But now they are generally changed to worse uses: They make the Fancy disgust the best things, if they come sound, and unadorned: they are in open defiance against Reason; professing, not to hold much correspondence with that; but with its Slaves, the Passions: they give the mind a motion too changeable, and bewitching, to consist with right practice. Who can behold, without indignation, how many mists and uncertainties, these specious Tropes and Figures have brought on our Knowledge? How many rewards, which are due to more profitable, and difficult Arts, have been still snatched away by the easy vanity of fine speaking? For now I am warmed with this just Anger, I cannot withhold myself, from betraying the shallowness of all these seeming Mysteries; upon which, we Writers, and Speakers, look so big. And, in few words, I dare say; that of all the Studies of men, nothing may be sooner obtained, than this vicious abundance of Phrase, this trick of Metaphors, this volubility of Tongue, which makes so great a noise in the World. But I spend words in vain; for the evil is now so inveterate, that it is hard to know whom to blame, or where to begin to reform. We all value one another so much, upon this beautiful deceit; and labour so long after it, in the years of our education; that we cannot but ever after think kinder of it, than it deserves. And indeed, in most other parts of Learning, I look on it to be a thing almost utterly desperate in its cure: and I think, it may be placed amongst those general mischiefs; such, as the dissension of Christian Princes, the want of practice in Religion, and the like; which have been so long spoken against, that men are become insensible about them; every one shifting off the fault from himself to others; and so they are only made bare common places of complaint. It will suffice my present purpose, to point out, what has been done by the Royal Society, towards the correcting of its excesses in Natural Philosophy; to which it is, of all others, a most professed enemy.  
They have therefore been most rigorous in putting in execution, the only Remedy, that can be found for this extravagance: and that has been, a constant Resolution, to reject all the amplifications, digressions, and swellings of style: to return back to the primitive purity, and shortness, when men delivered so many things, almost in an equal number of words. They have exacted from all their members, a close, naked, natural way of speaking; positive expressions; clear senses; a native easiness: bringing all things as near the Mathematical plainness, as they can: and preferring the language of Artisans, Countrymen, and Merchants, before that, of Wits, or Scholars.  
And here, there is one thing, not to be passed by; which will render this established custom of the Society, well nigh everlasting: and that is, the general constitution of the minds of the English. I have already often insisted on some of the prerogatives of England; whereby it may justly lay claim, to be the Head of a Philosophical league, above all other Countries in Europe: I have urged its situation, its present Genius, and the disposition of its Merchants; and many more such arguments to encourage us, still remain to be used: But of all others, this, which I am now alleging, is of the most weighty, and important consideration. If there can be a true character given of the Universal Temper of any Nation under Heaven: then certainly this must be ascribed to our Countrymen: that they have commonly an unaffected sincerity; that they love to deliver their minds with a sound simplicity; that they have the middle qualities, between the reserved subtle southern, and the rough unhewn Northern people: that they are not extremely prone to speak: that they are more concerned, what others will think of the strength, than of the fineness of what they say: and that an universal modesty possesses them. These Qualities are so conspicuous, and proper to our Soil; that we often hear them objected to us, by some of our neighbour Satirists, in more disgraceful expressions. For they are wont to revile the English, with a want of familiarity; with a melancholy dumpishness; with slowness, silence, and with the unrefined sullenness of their behaviour. But these are only the reproaches of partiality, or ignorance: for they ought rather to be commended for an honourable integrity; for a neglect of circumstances, and flourishes; for regarding things of greater moment, more than less; for a scorn to deceive as well as to be deceived: which are all the best endowments, that can enter into a Philosophical Mind. So that even the position of our climate, the air, the influence of the heaven, the composition of the English blood; as well as the embraces of the Ocean, seem to join with the labours of the Royal Society, to render our Country, a Land of Experimental knowledge. And it is a good sign, that Nature will reveal more of its secrets to the English, than to others; because it has already furnished them with a Genius so well proportioned, for the receiving, and retaining its mysteries.  
And now, 
Sect. II. Their way of Registering.  to come to a close of the second part of the Narration: The Society has reduced its principal observations, into one common-stock; and laid them up in public Registers, to be nakedly transmitted to the next Generation of Men; and so from them, to their Successors. And as their purpose was, to heap up a mixed Mass of Experiments, without digesting them into any perfect model: so to this end, they confined themselves to no order of subjects; and whatever they have recorded, they have done it, not as complete Schemes of opinions, but as bare unfinished Histories.  
In the order of their Inquisitions, they have been so free; that they have sometimes committed themselves to be guided, according to the seasons of the year: sometimes, according to what any foreiner, or English Artificer, being present, has suggested: sometimes, according to any extraordinary accident in the Nation, or any other casualty, which has happened in their way. By which roving, and unsettled course, there being seldom any reference of one matter to the next; they have prevented others, nay even their own hands, from corrupting, or contracting the work: they have made the raising of Rules, and Propositions, to be a far more difficult task, than it would have been, if their Registers had been more Methodical. Nor ought this neglect of consequence, and order, to be only thought to proceed from their carelessness; but from a mature, and well grounded praemeditation. For it is certain, that a too sudden striving to reduce the Sciences, in their beginnings, into Method, and Shape, and Beauty; has very much retarded their increase. And it happens to the Invention of Arts, as to children in their younger years: in whose Bodies, the same applications, that serve to make them straight, slender, and comely; are often found very mischievous, to their ease, their strength, and their growth.  
By their fair, and equal, and submissive way of Registering nothing, but Histories, and Relations; they have left room for others, that shall succeed, to change, to augment, to approve, to contradict them, at their discretion. By this, they have given posterity a far greater power of judging them; than ever they took over those, that went before them. By this, they have made a firm confederacy, between their own present labours, and the Industry of Future Ages; which how beneficial it will prove hereafter, we cannot better guess, than by recollecting, what wonders it would in all likelihood have produced ere this; if it had been begun in the Times of the Greeks, or Romans, or Schoolmen; nay even in the very last resurrection of learning. What depth of Nature, could by this time have been hid from our view? What Faculty of the Soul would have been in the dark? What part of human infirmities, not provided against? if our Predecessors, a thousand, nay even a hundred, years ago, had begun to add by little, and little to the store: if they would have endeavoured to be Benefactors, and not Tyrants over our Reasons; if they would have communicated to us, more of their Works, and less of their Wit.  
This complaint, which I here take up, will appear the juster; if we consider, that the first learned Times of the Ancients, and all those, that followed after them, down to this day, would have received no prejudice at all; if their Philosophers had chiefly bestowed their pains, in making Histories of Nature, and not in forming of Sciences: perhaps indeed the names of some particular men, who had the luck to compile those Systemes, and Epitomes which they gave us, would have been less glorious, than they are. Though that too may be doubted: and (if we may conclude any thing surely, upon a matter so changeable, as Fame is) we have reason enough to believe, that these later Ages would have honoured Plato, Aristotle, Zeno, and Epicurus, as much, if not more, than now they do; if they had only set things in a way of propagating Experiences down to us; and not imposed their imaginations on us, as the only Truths. This may be well enough supposed; seeing it is common to all mankind, still to esteem dearer the memories of their Friends, than of those that pretend to be their Masters.  
But this matter of reputation, was only the private concernment of five, or six. As for the Interest of those Times in general, I will venture to make good; that in all effects of true knowledge, they might have been as happy, without those Bodies of Arts, as they were with them; Logic, and the Mathematics only excepted. To instance in their Physics: they were utterly useless, in respect of the good of mankind: they themselves did almost confess so much, by reserving all their Natural Philosophy, for the retirements of their Wisemen. What help did it ever bring to the vulgar? What visible benefit to any City, or Country in the World? Their Mechanics, and Artificers (for whom the True Natural Philosophy should be principally intended) were so far from being assisted by those abstruse Doctrines; that perhaps scarce any one of those Professions, and Trades, has well understood Aristotle's Principles of Bodies, from his own Time down to ours. Hence than we may conclude, that those first Times, wherein these Arts were made, had been nothing damaged; if, instead of raising so many Speculative Opinions, they had only minded the laying of a solid groundwork, for a vast Pile of Experiments, to be continually augmenting through all Ages.  
And I will also add; that, if such a course had been at first set on foot, Philosophy would by this means have been kept closer to material things; and so, in probability, would not have undergone so many Eclipses, as it has done ever since. If we reckon from its first setting forth in the East; we shall find, that in so long a Tract of Time, there have not been above four, or five hundred years, at several intervals, wherein it has been in any request in the World. And if we look back on all the alterations, and subversions of States, that have happened in Civil Nations, these three thousand years: we may still behold, that the Sciences of men's brains, have been always subject to be far more injured by such vicissitudes, than the Arts of their hands. What cause can be assigned for this? Why was Learning the first thing, that was constantly swept away, in all destructions of Empire, and foreign inundations? Why could not that have weathered out the storm, as well as most sorts of Manufactures: which, though they began as soon, or before the other, yet they have remained, through all such changes, unalter'd; except for the better? The Reason of this is evident. It is, because Philosophy had been spun out, to so fine a thread, that it could be known but only to those, who would throw away all their whole Lives upon it. It was made too subtle, for the common, and gross conceptions of men of business. It had before in a measure been banished, by the Philosophers themselves, out of the World; and shut up in the shades of their walks. And by this means, it was first looked upon, as most useless; and so fit, soon to be neglected. Whereas if at first it had been made to converse more with the senses, and to assist familiarly in all occasions of human life; it would, no doubt, have been thought needful to be preserved, in the most Active, and ignorant Time. It would have escaped the fury of the Barbarous people; as well as the Arts of Ploughing, Gard'ning, Cookery, making Iron and Steel, Fishing, Sailing, and many more such necessary handicrafts have done.  
But it is too late to lament this error of the Ancients; seeing it is not now to be repaired. It is enough, that we gather from hence; that by bringing Philosophy down again to men's sight, and practice, from whence it was flown away so high: the Royal Society has put it into a condition of standing out, against the Invasions of Time, or even Barbarism itself: that by establishing it on a firmer foundation, than the airy Notions of men alone, upon all the works of Nature; by turning it into one of the Arts of Life, of which men may see there is daily need; they have provided, that it cannot hereafter be extinguished, at the loss of a Library, at the overthrowing of a Language, or at the death of some few Philosophers: but that men must lose their eyes, and hands, and must leave off desiring to make their Lives convenient, or pleasant; before they can be willing to destroy it.  

Sect. XXI. The occasion of the Hindrance of the publishing this History.  Thus far I was come in my intended work, when my hand was stopped, and my mind disturbed from writing, by the two greatest diasters, that ever befell our Nation, the fatal Infection, which overspread the City of London in Sixty five; and the dreadful firing of the City itself, in the year ensuing. These two calamities may well be sufficient, to excuse the delay of publishing this Book: when the one of them devoured as many Men, and the other as many Books, as the cruelest incursion of the Goths, and Vandals, had ever done.  
The Plague was indeed an irreparable damage to the whole Kingdom: but that which chiefly added to the misery, was the time, wherein it happened. For what could be a more deplorable accident, than that so many brave men should be cut off by the Arrow, that flies in the dark, when our Country was engaged in a foreign War, and when their Lives might have been honourably ventured on a glorious Theatre in its defence? And we had scarce recovered this first misfortune, when we received a second, and a deeper wound; which cannot be equalled in all History, if either we consider the obscurity of its beginning, the irresistible violence of its progress, the horror of its appearance, or the wideness of the ruin, it made, in one of the most renowned Cities of the World.  
Yet when on the one side, I remember, what desolation these scourges of mankind have left behind them; and on the other when I reflect on the magnanimity, wherewith the English Nation did support the mischiefs: I find, that I have not more reason to bewail the one, than to admire the other.  
Upon our return after the abating of the Plague, what else could we expect, but to see the streets unfrequented, the River forsaken, the fields deformed with the Graves of the Dead, and the Terrors of Death still abiding on the faces of the living? But instead of such dismal sights, there appeared almost the same throngs in all public places, the same noise of business, the same freedom of convers, and with the return of the King, the same cheerfulness returning on the minds of the people as before.  
Nor was their courage less, in sustaining the second calamity, which destroyed their houses, and estates. This the greatest losers endured with such undaunted firmness of mind, that their example may incline us to believe, that not only the best Natural, but the best Moral Philosophy too, may be learned from the shops of Mechanics. It was indeed an admirable thing to behold, with what constancy, the meanest Artificers saw all the labours of their lives, and the support of their families devoured in an instant. The affliction 'tis true, was widely spread over the whole Nation: every place was filled with signs of pity, and commiseration: But those who had suffered most, seemed the least affected with the loss: no unmanly bewailings were heard in the few streets, that were preserved: they beheld the Ashes of their Houses, and Gates, and Temples, without the least expression of Pusillanimity. If Philosophers had done this, it had well become their profession of Wisdom: if Gentlemen, the nobleness of their breeding, and blood would have required it. But that such greatness of heart should be found amongst the poor Artisans, and the obscure multitude, is no doubt one of the most honourable events, that ever happened. Yet still there is one circumstance behind, which may raise our wonder higher: and that is, that amidst such horrible ruins, they still prosecuted the War with the same vigour, and courage, against three of the most powerful States of all Europe. What Records of Time, or Memory of past Ages, can show us a greater testimony of an invincible and heroic Genius, than this, of which I now speak? that the sound of the Heralds proclaiming new Wars, should be pleasant to the people, when the sad voice of the Bellman was scarce yet gone out of their ears? that the increase of their Adversaries Confederates, and of their own calamities, should be so far from affrighting them, that they rather seemed to receive from thence a new vigour, and resolution? and that they should still be eager upon Victories, and Triumphs, when they were thought almost quite exhausted, by so great destructions?  

Sect. XXII. The Third Part of the Narration.  From this observation my mind begins to take comfort, and to presage, that as this terrible Disease, and Conflagration were not able to darken the honour of our Prince's Arms; so they will not hinder the many noble Arts, which the English have begun under his Reign on the strength of these hopes, and encouragements, I will now return to my former thoughts, and to the finishing of my interrupted design. And I come with the more earnestness to perfect it, because it seems to me, that from the sad effects of these disasters, there may a new, and a powerful Argument be raised, to move us to double our labours, about the Secrets of Nature.  
A New City is to be built, on the most advantageous Seat of all Europe, for Trade, and command. This therefore is the fittest Season for men to apply their thoughts, to the improving of the materials of building, and to the inventing of better models, for Houses, Roofs, Chimneys, Conduits, Wharves, and Streets: all which have been already under the consideration of the Royal Society: and that too, before they had such a sad occasion of bringing their observations into practice. The mortality of this Pestilence exceeded all others of later Ages. But the remembrance of it should rather enliven than damp our Industry. When mankind is overrun with such horrible invasions of Death, they should from thence be universally alarmed, to use more diligence about preventing them for the future.  
It is true, that terrible evil has hitherto in all Countries, been generally too strong, for the former remedies of Art. But why should we think that it will continue so for ever? Why may we not believe, that in all the vast compass of Natural virtues of things yet concealed, there is still reserved an Antidote, that shall be equal to this poison? If in such cases we only accuse the Anger of Providence, or the Cruelty of Nature: we lay the blame, where it is not justly to be laid. It ought rather to be attributed to the negligence of men themselves, that such difficult Cures are without the bounds of their reason's power.  
If all men had desponded at first, and sunk under the burden of their own infirmities, almost every little wound, or pain of the least member, had been as deadly, as the Plague at this time. It was by much Inquiry, and use, that most of the mildest diseases became curable. And every first success of this kind, should always strengthen our assurance of farther conquests, even over this greatest Terror of mankind. Distrust, and despair of our own endeavours, is as great a hindrance in the progress of the True Philosophy, as it is wont to be in the rise of men's private fortunes. Whoever aims not at the greatest things, will seldom proceed much farther, than the least. Whoever will make a right, and a fortunate Courtship to Nature, he cannot enterprise, or attempt too much: for She (as it is said of other Mistresses) is also a Mistress, that soon yields to the forward, and the Bold.  
I have hitherto described the first Elements, on which the Royal Society arose, and supported its beginnings: I have traced its progress from the first private endeavours of some of its members, till it became united into a Regular constitution: and from thence I have related their first conceptions, and practices, towards the settling of an universal, constant, and impartial survey of the whole Creation. There now remains to be added in this Third part of my Narration, an Account of the Encouragements they have received from abroad, and at home; and a Particular Enumeration of the Principal Subjects, about which they have been employed since they obtained the Royal Confirmation.  

Sect XXIII. The Reputation, and correspondence of the R. S. abroad.  I will first begin with the esteem, which all the Civil world abroad has conceived of their Enterprise. And I mention this with the more willingness, because I believe, that our Nation ought justly to be reproved, for their excess of Natural bashfulness, and for their want of care, to have their most excellent things represented to Strangers with the best advantage. This silent, and reserved humour has no doubt been very prejudicial to us, in the judgement, that our Neighbours have often made, not only concerning the condition of our Learning, but also of our Political affairs. I will therefore trespass a little on this disposition of my Countrymen, and affirm, that as the English name does manifestly get ground, by the bravery of their Arms, the Glory of their Naval strength, and the spreading of their Commerce: so there has been a remarkable addition to its renown, by the success, which all our Neighbours expect from this Assembly.  
It is evident, that this searching Spirit, and this affection to sensible Knowledge, does prevail in most Countries round about us. 'Tis true, the conveniences for such labours, are not equal in all places. Some want the assistance of others hands; some the contribution of others purses: some the benefit of excellent Instruments, some the Patronage of the Civil Magistrates: But yet according to their several powers, they are every where intent on such practical Studies. And the most considerable effects of such attempts throughout Europe, have been still recommended to this Society, by their Authors, to be examined, approved, or corrected.  
The Country, 
In France.  that lies next to England in its situation is France: and that is also nearest to it, in its zeal for the promotion of Experiments. In that Kingdom, the Royal Society has maintained a perpetual intercourse, with the most eminent men of Art of all conditions: and has obtained from them, all the help which might justly be hoped for, from the vigour, and activity, and readiness of mind, which is natural to that people. From their Physicians, Surgeons, and Anatomists, it has received many faithful Relations of extraordinary Cures: from their most judicious Travellers the Fruits of their Voyages: from their most famous Mathematicians, divers Problems, which have been solud many different ways: from their Chemists the effects of their Fires: and from others of their best Observers, many rarities, and discourses, of their Fruits, Silk, Wine, Bread, Plants, Salt and such Natural productions of their Soil. And, to instance once for all, it has been affectionately invited to a mutual correspondence by the French Academy of Paris: In which invitation, there is one expression, that ought not to be passed over in silence: that they acknowledge the English Nation, to have many advantages, for the propagating of Real Philosophy, which are wanting to all others. This Confession is true. Yet these advantages, unless they had been improved by this institution, had been only as those, that we have for fishing, objections, and arguments of our sloth.  

In Italy.  In Italy the Royal Society has an excellent privilege of receiving, and imparting Experiments, by the help of one of their own Fellows, who has the opportunity of being Resident there for them, as well as for the King. From thence they have been earnestly invited to a mutual intelligence, by many of their most Noble Wits, but chiefly by the Prince Leopoldo, Brother to the Great Duke of Thuscany; who is the Patron of all the Inquisitive Philosophers of Florence: from whom there is coming out under his Name an account of their proceedings called Ducat Experiments. This application to the Royal Society I have mentioned, because it comes from that Country, which is seldom wont to have any great regard, to the Arts of these Nations, that lie on this side of their mountains.  

In Germany.  In Germany, and its neighbouring Kingdoms, the Royal Society has met with great veneration; as appears by several Testimonies, in their late Printed Books, which have been submitted to its Censure: by many Curiosities of Mechanic Instruments, that have been transmitted to it: and by the Addresses which have been sent from their Philosophical Inquirers. For which kinds of Enterprises the temper of the Germane Nation, is admirably fit, both in respect of their peculiar dexterity in all sorts of manual Arts, and also in regard of the plain, and unaffected sincerity of their manners: wherein they so much resemble the English, that we seem to have derived from them the composition of our minds, as well as to have descended from their Race.  
In the Low-Countries, 
In the Low-countries,  their Interest, and Reputation has been established, by the Friendship of some of their chief Learned men, and principally of Hugenius. This Gentleman has bestowed his pains, on many parts of the speculative, and practical Mathematics, with wonderful successes. And particularly his applying the Motion of Pendulums to Clocks, and Watches, was an excellent Invention. For thereby there may be a means found out, of bringing the measures of Time, to an exact Regulation: of which the benefits are infinite. In the prosecution of such Discoveries, he has often required the aid of this Society; he has received the light of their Trials, and a confirmation of his own, and has freely admitted their alterations, or amendments. And this learned correspondence with him, and many others, is still continued, even at this present time, in the breach between our Countries: Their Great Founder, and Patron still permitting them to maintain the Traffic of Sciences, when all other Commerce is intercepted. Whence we may guess, what may be expected from the peaceful part of our King's Reign, when his very Wars are managed, without injury to the Arts of Civil Knowledge.  

Visits of Foreigners.  But not to wander any farther in particulars, it may perhaps in general be safely computed, that there has been as large a communication of Foreign Arts, and Inventions, to the Royal Society, within this small compass of time, as ever before did pass over the English Channel since the very first transportation of Arts into our Island. And that this benefit will still increase by the length of time is indubitable, from the Reception, which has been given to the Scholars, Nobility, Ambassadors, and Foreign Princes, who of late years have travelled hither, to behold a Country, which had been the Stage of so famous a War, and so miraculous a Peace. All these have still visited the Royal Society, as one of the first, and Noblest Fruits of our restoration. From hence they have returned home, with a free engagement of their assistance: the men of learning assuring it of a contribution of their Labours, and the Statesmen, and Princes of their Authority, and endeavours, in satisfying all Philosophical Queries, with which they have been plentifully furnished.  
It would be a useless pomp to reckon up a Catalogue of their Names: especially seeing they are already recorded with gratitude, in a more lasting Monument, The Register of the Society. Only it will not, I think, be amiss, if I mention the visit of one Prince, because it may afford us a profitable observation. When the Duke of Brunswyck and Lunenbourgh was introduced into their weekly Assembly, and had subscribed his name to their Statutes: there was according to the Custom, one of the Fellows appointed, to interpret to him, what Experiments were produced, and examined at that meeting. But his Highness told them, that it was not necessary, they should put themselves to that trouble: for he well understood our Language, having been drawn to the study of it, out of a desire of reading our Philosophical Books. From whence there may this conclusion be made, that if ever our Native Tongue shall get any ground in Europe, it must be by augmenting its Experimental Treasure. Nor is it impossible, but as the Feminine Arts of Pleasure, and Gallantry have spread some of our Neighbouring Languages, to such a vast extent: so the English Tongue may also in time be more enlarged, by being the Instrument of conveying to the World, the Masculine Arts of Knowledge.  
I now come to relate, 
Sect XXIV. The encouragements the R. S. has received at home.  what encouragements this design has received at home in its Native soil. And I will assure my Reader, that the Original of the Royal Society has found a general approbation within ourselves, and that the most prudent men of all Professions, and Interests, have shown by their respects to these hopeful beginnings, that there is a Reverence due to the first trials, and intentions, as well as to the last accomplishment of generous attempts.  
Of our chief, 
From our Citizens.  and most wealthy Merchants, and Citizens, very many have assisted it with their presence: and thereby have added the industrious, punctual, and active Genius of men of Traffic, to the quiet, sedentary, and reserved temper of men of Learning. They have contributed their labours: they have helped their correspondence: they have employed their Factors abroad, to answer their Inquiries; they have laid out in all Countries for observations: they have bestowed many considerable gifts on their Treasury, and Repository. And chiefly there is one Bounty to be here inserted, which for the singular benefit that may be expected from it, deserves the applause and imitation of this, and future times. It is the establishment made by Sir john Cutler, for the reading on Mechanics, in the place where the Royal Society shall meet. This is the first Lecture that has been founded of this kind, amidst all the vast munificence of so many Benefactors to Learning, in this later Age. And yet this was the most necessary of all others. For this has chiefly caused the slow progress of manual Arts; that the Trades themselves have never served apprenticeships, as well as the Tradesmen: that they have never had any Masters set over them, to direct and guide their works, or to vary, and enlarge their operations.  

From our Physicians.  Of our Physicians, many of the most judicious, have contributed their purses, their hands, their judgements, their writings. This they have done, though they have also in London, a College peculiar to their Profession; which ever since its first foundation, for the space of a hundred and fifty years, has given the world a succession of the most eminent Physicians of Europe. In that they confine themselves to the advancement of Physic: But in this, they have also with great zeal, and ability, promoted this universal inspection, into all Natural knowledge. For without danger of flattery, I will declare of the English Physicians, that no part of the world exceeds them, not only in the skill of their own Art, but in general Learning: and of very many of that profession I will affirm, that All Apollo is their own, as it was said by the best Poet of this Age, of one of the most excellent of their number.  
Of our Nobility, 
From our Nobility.  and Gentry, the most Noble and Illustrious have condescended, to labour here with their hands, to impart their discoveries, to propose their doubts, to assist, and defray the charge of their Trials. And this they have done with such a universal agreement, that it is almost the only thing, wherein the Nobility of all the three Kingdoms are united. In their Assemblies for making Laws they are separated: in their customs, and manners of life they differ: And in their humours too, they are thought not much of kin to each other. But in the Royal Society the Scotch, the Irish, the English Gentry do meet, and communicate, without any distinction of Countries, or affections. From hence no doubt very much Political, as well as Philosophical benefit will arise. By this means, there is a good foundation laid▪ for the removing of that aversion, which the English are sometimes observed to express to the Natives of those Kingdoms: which though perhaps it arises from the Knowledge of their own advantages above the other, yet it is a great hindrance to the growth of the British power. For as a Kingdom divided against itself, cannot stand; so three Kingdoms divided from each other, in Tempers, Studies, and Inclinations, can never be great, upon one common interest.  
Of our Ministers of State at home, 
From our Statesmen.  and our Ambassadors abroad, there have been very few employed, who are not Fellows of the Royal Society: and especially these later, have bestowed their pains in foreign Courts, to collect Relations, and Secrets of Nature, as well as of State: For which service their way of life is most convenient, by the generality of their converse, the privileges, and freedom of their dispatches; and the usual Resort of the most knowing, and inquisitive men to their company.  

From our Soldiers.  Our Greatest Captains, and Commanders have enrolled their Names in this number, and have regarded these Studies: which are not, as other parts of Learning, to be called the Studies of the Gown, for they do as well become the profession of a Soldier, or any other way of life. Nor have our most renowned Generals neglected the opportunities of Philosophical Inquiries, even in the midst of their greatest Erterprises, on which the fate of Kingdoms has depended. They have been furnished with Instruments, and directions by the Royal Society, and amidst the Tumult of Wars, and Government of Fleets, they have found leisure to make some Trials of Experiments: which works as much excel that of Declaiming, which some of the Roman Generals used in their Camps, as it is better to do, than to talk well.  

From our Churchmen.  Of our Churchmen the Greatest and the most Reverend, by their care, and passion, and endeavours, in advancing this Institution, have taken off the unjust scandal from Natural knowledge, that it is an Enemy to Divinity. By the perpetual Patronage; and assistance, they have afforded the Royal Society, they have confuted the false opinions of those men, who believe that Philosophers must needs be irreligious: they have shown that in our veneration of God's almighty power, we ought to imitate the manner of our respect to Earthly Kings. For as, the greater their Dominion is, the more observance is wont to be given to their nearest Servants and Officers: so the greatness of the Divine Majesty is best to be worshipped, by the due honouring, and observing of Nature, which is his immediate Servant, and the universal Minister of his pleasure.  
But I make haste to that, 
Sect. XXV. From the Royal Family.  which ought to be esteemed the very life, and soul of this undertaking, the protection, and favour of the King, and the Royal Family▪ When the Society first addressed themselves to his Majesty, he was pleased to express much satisfaction, that this enterprise was begun in his Reign: he then represented to them, the gravity, and difficulty of their work and assured them of all the kind influence of his Power, and Prerogative. Since that he has frequently committed many things to their search: he has referred many foreign Rarities to their inspection: he has recommended many domestic improvements to their care: he has demanded the result of their trials, in many appearances of Nature: he has been present, and assisted with his own hands, at the performing of many of their Experiments, in his Gardens, his Parks, and on the River. And besides I will not conceal, that he has sometimes reproved them for the slowness of their proceedings: at which reproofs they have not so much cause to be afflicted, that they are the reprehensions of a King, as to be comforted, that they are the reprehensions of his love, and affection to their progress. For a Testimony of which Royal benignity, and to free them from all hindrances, and occasions of delay, he has given them the establishment of his Letters Patents, of which I will here produce an Epitome.  
Charles' the second, by the Grace of God, of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, etc. To all unto whom these presents shall come, Greeting. Having long resolved within ourselves to promote the welfare of Arts and Sciences, as well as that of our Territories and Dominions, out of our Princely affection to all kind of Learning, and more particular favour to Philosophical Studies. Especially those which endeavour by solid Experiments either to reform or improve Philosophy. To the intent therefore that these kinds of study, which are no where yet fufficiently cultivated, may flourish in our Dominions; and that the Learned world may acknowledge us to be, not only the Defender of the Faith, but the Patron and Encourager of all sorts of useful Knowledge.  
Know ye, that we out of our special Grace, certain knowledge, and mere motion, have given and granted, and do by these presents give and grant for us, our Heirs, and Successors, That there shall be for ever a Society, consisting of a Precedent, Council, and Fellows, which shall be called by the name of the Precedent, Council, and Fellows of the Royal Society of London, for and improving of Natural knowledge, of which Society we do by these presents declare ourselves to be Founder and Patron. And we do hereby make and constitute the said Society by the name, etc. to be a Body corporate, to be continued under the same name in a perpetual succession; And that they and their successors (whose studies are to be employed for the promoting of the knowledge of natural things, and useful Arts by Experiments. To the glory of God, and the good of mankind) shall by the foresaid name of Precedent, Council, etc. be enabled and made capable in Law, to levy, hold, possess, and enjoy, Lands, Tenements, etc. Liberties, Franchises, jurisdictions, for perpetuity, or Terms of Lives, or Years, or any other way: as also Goods, Chattels, and all other things of what Nature or Kind soever. And also by the name aforesaid to Give, Grant, Demise, or Assign the said Lands, Goods, etc. and to do all things necessary thereabout. And the said Persons by the name aforesaid are enabled to implead, be impleaded, sue, defend, etc. in any Courts, and before any judges, Officers, etc. whatsoever of the King, His Heirs and Successors, in all and singular Actions Real and Personal: Pleas, Causes, etc. of what kind soever, as any of His Subjects within his Kingdom of England, or Corporations, are by Law capable and enabled to do.  
And the said Precedent, Council, and Fellows are empowered to have a Common Seal for their use in their Affairs: and from time to time to break, change, and make anew the same, as shall seem expedient unto them.  
And his Majesty, in Testimony of his Royal Favour towards the said Precedent, Council, and Fellows, and of His especial esteem of them, doth Grant a Coat of Arms to them and their Successors, viz. On a Field Argent a Canton of the three Lions of England: For a Crest, an Eagle proper on a Ducal Coronet supporting a Shield charged with the Lion's aforesaid; and for Supporters, two Talbots with Coronets on their Necks. The said Arms to be born, etc. by the said Society upon all occasions.  
And that His Majesty's Royal Intention may take the better effect for the good Government of the said Society from time to time: It is established, That the Council aforesaid shall consist of 21. Persons; (whereof the Precedent for the time being always to be one.) And that all Persons, which within two Month's next ensuing the date of the said Charter shall be chosen by the said Precedent and Council; and in all times after the said two Months, by the Precedent, Council, and Fellows [and noted in a Register to be kept for that purpose] shall be Fellows of the said Society, and so accounted, and called during life, except by the Statutes of the said Society to be made any of them shall happen to be amoved And by how much any Persons are more excelling in all kinds of Learning, by how much the more ardently they desire to promote the Honour, Business, and Emolument of the said Society, by how much the more eminent they are for Integrity, Honesty, Piety, Loyalty, and Good Affection toward His Majesty, His Crown and Dignity, by so much the more fit and worthy such Persons are to be judged for reception into the Society.  
And for the better execution of his Royal Grant, His Majesty hath nominated, etc. His Trusty and Wellbeloved William Viscount Brouncker, Chancellor to His dearest Consort Queen Catharine, to be the First and Modern Precedent to continue in the said Office from the date of the Patent to the Feast of Saint Andrew next ensuing, and until another Person of the said Council be duly chosen into the said Office. The said Lord Brouncker being sworn in all things belonging thereto well and faithfully to execute the said Office before His right wellbeloved and right Trusty Cousin and Counsellor, Edward, Earl of Clarendon, Lord High Chancellor of England, in the words following.  
I William Viscount Brouncker do promise to deal faithfully and honestly in all things belonging to that Trust committed to me, as Precedent of the Royal Society of London, for improving Natural Knowledge. So help me God.  
And His Majesty hath nominated, etc. the Persons following, His Trusty and Well beloved Sir Robert Moray Knight, one of His Privy Council in His Kingdom of Scotland, Robert Boyl Esquire, William Brereton Esquire, eldest Son to the Lord Brereton, Sir Kenelm Digby Knight, Chancellor to His dearest Mother Queen Mary, Sir Gilbert Talbot Knight, Master of His jewel-house, Sir Paul Neile Knight, one of the Ushers of His Privy Chamber, Henry Slingsby Esquire, one of the Gentlemen of His said Privy Chamber, Sir William Petty Knight, Timothy Clark Doctor of Physic, and one of His Physicians, john Wilkins Doctor of Divinity, George Ent Doctor of Physic, William Erskyne Esq, one of His Cupbearers, Jonathan Goddard Doctor of Physic, William Ball Esquire, Matthew Wren Esquire, John Evelyn Esquire, Thomas Henshaw Esquire, Dudley Palmer of Grayes-Inn Esquire, Abraham Hill of London Esquire, and Henry Oldenburg Esquire, together with the Precedent aforesaid, to be the first and Modern 21 of the Council and Fellows of the Royal Society aforesaid, to be continued in the Offices of the Council aforesaid, from the date of the Patent to the Feast of Saint Andrew next following, and from thence till other fit persons be chosen into the said Offices. The said Persons to be sworn before the Precedent of the Society, for the time being, well and truly to execute the said Offices, according to the form and effect of the aforesaid Oath to be administered to the Precedent by the Lord Chancellor as aforesaid. For the administering which Oath to the said Persons, and all others hereafter from time to time to be chosen into the said Council, full Power and Authority is Granted to the Precedent for the time being: And the said Persons duly sworn, and all other from time to time duly chosen into the said Council and sworn, are to aid, advise and assist in all affairs, businesses, and things concerning the better Regulation, Government, and Direction of the Royal Society; and every Member thereof.  
Furthermore, Liberty is granted to the said Society, lawfully to make and hold meetings of themselves, for the searching out and discovery of Natural Things, and Transaction of other businesses relating to the said Society, when and as often as shall be requisite, in any College, Hall, or other Convenient place in London, or within 10. Miles thereof.  
And Power is Granted to the said Society, from time to time to nominate and choose yearly, on Saint Andrews day, one of the Council aforesaid, for the time being, to be Precedent of the Society until Saint Andrews day next ensuing (if he shall so long live, or not be removed for some just and reasonable Cause) and from thence until another be chosen and put into the said Office: the said Precedent so elected, before admission to that Office, to be sworn before the Council, according to the form before expressed, who are empowered to administer the said Oath from time to time, as often as there shall be cause to choose a Precedent.  
And in Case that the said Precedent, during his Office, shall die, recede, or be removed; then, and so often, it shall be Lawful for the Council of the Royal Society, to meet together to choose one of their Number for Precedent of the said Society, and the Person so chosen and duly sworn, shall have and exercise the Office of Precedent for the remainder of the year, and until another be duly chosen into the said Office.  
And in case that any one or more of the Council aforesaid shall die, recede, or be removed (which persons or any of them, for misdemeanour, or other reasonable cause, are declared to be amovable by the Precedent and the rest of the Council) then and so often it shall be lawful for the Precedent, Council, and Fellows, to choose one or more of the Fellows of the Royal Society in the room of him or them so deceasing, receding, or removed, to complete the aforesaid number of 21. of the Council, which Person or Persons, so chosen, are to continue in Office until Saint Andrews day then next ensuing, and until others be duly chosen, the said Persons being sworn, faithfully to execute their Offices, according to the true intention of the Patent.  
And His Majesty doth will and Grant unto the said Precedent, Council, and Fellows, full power and authority on Saint Andrews day yearly, to elect, nominate, and change 10. of the Fellows of the Royal Society, to supply the places and Offices of ten of the aforesaid number of 21. of the Council, declaring it to be His Royal Will and Pleasure, that ten and no more of the Council aforesaid be annually changed and removed by the Precedent, Council, and Fellows aforesaid.  
And it is Granted on the behalf of the said Society that if it shall happen, that the Precedent to be sick, infirm, detained in His Majesty's Service, or otherwise occupied, so as he cannot attend the necessary Affairs of the Society, then and so often it shall be lawful for him to appoint one of the Council for his Deputy, who shall supply his place from time to time, as often as he shall happen to be absent during the whole time of the said Precedents continuance in his Office, unless he shall in the mean time constitute some other of the Council for his Deputy: And the Deputy so constituted is empowered to do all and singular things which belong to the Office of the Precedent of the Royal Society, and in as ample manner and form as the said Precedent may do by virtue of His Majesty's Letters Patents, He the said Deputy being duly sworn before the Council in form before specified, who are empowered to administer the Oath as often as the case shall require.  
It is further granted to the Society, to have one Treasurer, two Secretaries, two or more Curators of Experiments, one or more Clerk or Clerks, and also two Sergeants at Mace, who may from time to time attend on the Precedent: all the said Officers to be chosen by the Precedent, Council and Fellows, and to be sworn in form and effect before specified, well and faithfully to execute their Offices, which Oath the Council are empowered to administer: And His Majesty nominates and appoints His wellbeloved Subjects, the aforesaid William Ball Esquire, to be the first and Modern Treasurer; and the aforesaid John Wilkins and Henry Oldenburg, to be the first and Modern Secretaries of the Royal Society, to be continued in the said Offices to the Feast of Saint Andrew next following the date of the Patent. And that from time to time, and ever hereafter, on the said Feast of Saint Andrew (if it be not Lords day, and if it be Lords day, on the next day after) the Precedent, Council, and Fellows aforesaid, are empowered to nominate and choose honest and discreet Men for Treasurer and Secretaries, which are to be of the Number of the Council of the Royal Society, which Persons Elected and sworn, in form before specified, are to exercise and enjoy the said Offices until the Feast of Saint Andrew than next following.  
And if it shall happen, that the aforesaid Elections of the Precedent, Council, Treasurer, and Secretaries, or any of them, cannot be made or perfected on the Feast of Saint Andrew aforesaid: it is granted to the aforesaid Precedent, Council, and Fellows, that they may lawfully nominate and assign another day, as near to the said Feast of Saint Andrew as conveniently may be, for making or perfecting the said Elections, and so from day to day till the said Elections be perfected.  
And in case that any of the aforesaid Officers of the Royal Society shall die, recede, or be removed from their respective Offices, then and so often it shall be lawful for the said Precedent, Council, and Fellows, to choose one or more into the Office or Offices vacant, to hold the same during the residue of that year, and until others be duly chosen and sworn in their places.  
Moreover, on the behalf of the Society, it is granted unto the Precedent and Council, that they may assemble and meet together in any College, Hall, or other convenient place in London, or within ten miles thereof (due and lawful summons of all the Members of the Council to extraordinary meetings being always premised) and that they being so met together, have full power and authority from time to time, to make, constitute, and establish such Laws, Statutes, Orders, and Constitutions, which shall appear to them to be good, useful, honest, and necessary, according to their judgements and discretions, for the Government, Regulation and Directions of the Royal Society, and every Member thereof: And to do all things concerning the Government, Estate, Goods, Lands, Revenues, as also the Businesses and Affairs of the said Society: All which Laws, Statutes, Orders, &c so made, His Majesty wills and commands, that they be from time to time inviolably observed, according to the tenor and effect of them: Provided that they be reasonable and not repugnant or contrary to the Laws, Customs, etc. of his Kingdom of England.  
And furthermore, full Power and Authority is given and granted unto the said Society, from time to time to choose one or more Printers and Gravers, and by writing sealed with the Common Seal of the Society, and signed by the Precedent for the time being, to grant them power to print such things, matters and businesses concerning the said Society, as shall be committed to them by the Council from time to time; The said Printers and Gravers being sworn before the Precedent and Council in form before specified, which Precedent and Council are empowered to give the said Oath.  
And for the greater advantage and success of the Society in their Philosophical Studies and Endeavours, full Power and Authority is granted unto them, to require, take, and receive, from time to time, dead bodies of Persons executed, and the same to anatomize, to all intents and purposes, and in as ample manner and form as the College of Physicians, and Company of Surgeons of London (by what names soever the said two Corporations are or may be called) have had and made use of, or may have and use the said Bodies.  
And for the improvement of such Experiments, Arts, and Sciences as the Society may be employed in, full Power and Authority is granted unto them from time to time by Letters under the hand of the Precedent in the presence of the Council, to hold Correspondence and Intelligence with any Strangers, whether private Persons, or Collegiate Societies or Corporations, without any Interruption or Molestation whatsoever: Provided that this Indulgence or Grant be extended to no further use than the particular Benefit and Interest of the Society, in Matters Philosophical, Mathematical, and Mechanical.  
Full Power and Authority is also granted on the behalf of the Society to the Council, to erect and build one or more Colleges within London, or ten miles thereof, of what form or quality soever, for Habitation, Assembling, or Meeting of the Precedent, Council and Fellows, about any affairs and businesses of the Society.  
And if any abuses or differences shall ever hereafter arise and happen about the Government or Affairs of the Society, whence the Constitution, Progress, and Improvement, or Businesses thereof may suffer or be hindered: In such cases His Majesty Assigns and Authorises His right Trusty and right Wellbeloved Cousin and Counsellor, Edward Earl of Clarendon Lord High Chancellor of England, by himself during his life, and after his decease the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England, the Lord High Treasurer of England, the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, the Lord Bishop of London, and the two principal Secretaries of State for the time being, or any four or more of them, to compose and redress any such differences or abuses.  
And lastly, His Majesty straightly charges and commands all justices, Mayors, Aldermen, Sheriffs, Bailiffs, Constables, and all other Officers, Ministers, and Subjects whatsoever, from time to time to be aiding and assisting unto the said Precedent, Council, and Fellows of the Royal Society, in and about all things, according to the true intention of His Letters Patents.  
This is the Legal Ratification which the Royal Society has received. And in this place I am to render their public thanks to the Right Honourable the Earl of Clarendon Lord Chancellor of England, to Sir jeffery Palmer Attorney General, and to Sir Heneage Finch Solicitor General: who by their cheerful concurrence, and free promotion of this Confirmation, have wiped away the aspersion, that has been scandalously cast on the Profession of the Law, that it is an Enemy to Learning, and the Civil Arts. To show the falsehood of this reproach, I might instance in many judges and Counsellors of all Ages, who have been the ornaments of the Sciences, as well as of the Bar, and Courts of justice.. But it is enough to declare, that my Lord Bacon was a Lawyer, and that these eminent Officers of the Law, have completed this foundation of the Royal Society: which was a work well becoming the largeness of his Wit to devise, and the greatness of their Prudence to establish.  

Sect. XXVI. Their Councils and Statutes.  According to the intention of these Letters Patents, their Council has ever since been annually renewed: their Precedent, their Treasurer, their Secretaries chosen: The chief employments of the Council have been to manage their Political affairs, to regulate disorders, to make addresses, and applications in their behalf; to guard their Privileges, to disperse correspondents, but Principally to form the Body of their Statutes, which I will here insert.  

An Abstract of the Statutes of the Royal Society.  
WHatever Statute shall be made, or repealed, the making or repealing of it shall be voted twice, and at two several meetings of the Council.  
This Obligation shall be subscribed by every Fellow; or his election shall be void.  
WE who have hereto subscribed, do promise each for himself, that we will endeavour to promote the good of the Royal Society of London, for the Improvement of Natural Knowledge, and to pursue the ends, for which the same was founded: that we will be present at the Meetings of the Society, as often as conveniently we can: especially at the anniversary Elections, and upon extraordinary occasions: and that we will observe the Statutes and Orders of the said Society: Provided, that whenever any of us shall signify to the Precedent under his hand, that he desires to withdraw from the Society, he shall be free from this Obligation for the future.  
Every Fellow shall pay his admission money, and afterwards contribution towards the defraying of the charges of Observations and Experiments, etc.  
The ordinary meetings of the Royal Society shall be held once a week, where none shall be present, besides the Fellows, without the leave of the Society, under the degree of a Baron in one of His Majesties three Kingdoms, or of His Majesty's Privy Council; or unless he be an eminent Forreigner, and these only without the leave of the Precedent.  
The business of their weekly Meetings shall be, To order, take account, consider, and discourse of Philosophical Experiments, and Observations: to read, hear, and discourse upon Letters, Reports, and other Papers, containing Philosophical matters, as also to view, and discourse upon the productions and rarities of Nature, and Art: and to consider what to deduce from them, or how they may be improved for use, or discovery.  
The Experiments that be made at the charge of the Society. Two Curators at least shall be appointed for the Inspection of those which cannot be performed before the Society: by them the bare report of matter of Fact shall be stated and returned.  
The Election of Fellows shall be made by way of Ballet: and their Admission by a solemn Declaration made by the Precedent of their Election.  
The Election of the Council and Officers shall be made once a year: Eleven of the present Council shall be continued, by Lot, for the next year, and ten new Ones chosen, in like manner. Out of this new Council shall be elected a Precedent, Treasurer, and two Secretaries, in the same way.  
The Precedent shall preside in all meetings, regulate all debates of the Society, and Council; state, and put Questions; call for Reports, and Accounts from Committees, Curators, and others; summon all extraordinary meetings upon urgent occasions; and see to the execution of the Statutes. The Vicepresident shall have the same power in the absence of the Precedent.  
The Treasurer, or his Deputy, shall receive and keep Accounts of all money due to the Society, and disburse all money payable by the Society. He shall pay small sums by order of the Precedent under his hand, but those that exceed five pounds, by order of the Council. All Bills of charges for Experiments shall first be signed by the Curators. The Accounts of the Treasurer shall be Audited four times a year, by a Committee of the Council, and once a year by a Committee of the Society.  
The Secretaries are to take Notes of the Orders, and material passages of the Meetings; to take care of the Books, Papers, and Writings of the Society; to order, and direct the Clerks in making Entries of all matters in the Register, and journal-books of the Society, or Council; to draw up such Letters as shall be written in their Name, which shall be approved at one of their Meetings; to give notice of the Candidates propounded in order to Election.  
The Curators by Office shall have a sufficient allowance for their encouragement, which shall increase proportionably with the revenue of the Society, provided that it exceed not two hundred pounds a year. They shall be well skilled in Philosophical, and Mathematical Learning, well versed in Observations, Inquiries, and Experiments of Nature and Art. They shall take care of the managing of all Experiments, and Observations appointed by the Society, or Council, and report the same, and perform such other tasks, as the Society, or Council shall appoint: such as the examining of Sciences, Arts, and Inventions now in use, and the bringing in Histories of Natural and Artificial things, etc. They shall be propounded at least a month before they are chosen. They shall be examined by the Council before the election: To their Election every Member of the Society shall be summoned: They shall at first be only elected for a year of probation, (except they be of known merits) at the end of the year, they shall be either elected for perpetuity, or for a longer time of probation, or wholly rejected. The causes of ejecting a Curator shall be the same with ejecting a Fellow, or for fraudulent dealing, and negligence in the affairs of the Society, provided that he shall first receive three respective admonitions. If any Curator shall be disabled by Age, Infirmity, or any Casualty, in the service of the Society, some provision shall be made for him during life, if his condition requires, according as the Council shall think fit.  
The Clerk shall constantly attend at all Meetings: he shall follow the directions of the Secretaries, in Registering, and entering all matters that shall be appointed: he shall not communicate any thing contained in their Books, to any that is not a Fellow. He shall have a certain rate for what he copies, and a yearly stipend for his attendance.  
The Printer shall take care for the printing of such Books as shall be committted to him by order of the Society, or Council; and therein he shall observe their directions, as to the correction of the Edition, the number of Copies, the form, or volume, etc.  
The Operators of the Society, when they have any of their Work under their hands, shall not undertake the work of any other persons, which may hinder the business of the Society. They shall have Salaries for their attendance.  
The Common Seal of the Society, shall be kept in a Chest with three Locks, and three different Keys, by the Precedent, Treasurer, and one of the Secretaries. The Deeds of the Society, shall be passed in Council, and e ald by them and the Precedent.  
The Books that concern the affairs of the Society, shall be the Charter Book, Statute Book, journal Books, Letter Books, and Register Books, for the entering of Philesophical Observations, Histories, Discourses, Experiments, Inventions.  
The names of Benefactors shall be honourably mentioned in a Book provided for that purpose.  
In case of Death, or Recess of any Fellow, the Secretaries are to note it in the Margin of the Register, over against their names.  
The causes of Ejection shall be contemptuous disobedience to the Statutes and Orders of the Society; defaming, or malicious damnifying the same. This shall be declared by the Precedent at one of the Meetings; and the Ejection recorded.   
When these Statutes were presented to his Majesty, he was pleased to superscribe himself, their Founder, and Patron, his Royal Highness, and his Highness' Prince Rupert, at the same time, declaring themselves Fellows.  
Nor has the King only encouraged them, 
Sect. XXVII The King's Example in promoting Experiments.  by kindness of words, and by Acts of State: but he has also provoked them to unwearied activity in their Experiments, by the most effectual means of his Royal Example. There is scarce any one sort of work, whose advancement they regard, but from his Majesties own labours, they have received a pattern for their endeavours about it. They design the multiplying, and beautifying of Mechanic Arts: And the noise of Mechanic Instruments is heard in Whitehall itself. They intent the perfection of Graving, Statuary, Limning, Coining, and all the works of Smiths, in Iron, or Steel, or Silver: And the most excellent Artists of these kinds, have provision made for their practice, even in the Chambers, and Galleries of his Court. They purpose the trial of all manner of operations by fire: And the King has under his own roof found place for Chemical Operators, They resolve to restore, to enlarge, to examine Physic: And the King has endowed the College of London with new Privileges, and has planted a Physic Garden under his own eye. They have bestowed much consideration, on the propagating of Fruits and Trees; And the King has made Plantations enough, even almost to repair the ruins of a Civil War. They have begun an exact Survey of the Heavens: and Saint james Park may witness, that Ptolomey and Alphonso were not the only Monarches, who observed the motions, and appearances of the Stars. They have studied the promoting of Architecture in our Island: and the beauty of our late Buildings, and the reformation of his own Houses, do sufficiently manifest his Skill and Inclination to that Art: of which magnificence, we had seen more effects ere this, if he had not been called off by this War, from houses of convenience, to those of strength. They have principally consulted the advancement of Navigation: And the King has been most ready to reward those, that shall discover the Meridian. They have employed much time in examining the Fabric of Ships, the forms of their Sails, the shapes of their Keels, the sorts of Timber, the planting of Fir, the bettering of Pitch, and Tarr, and Tackling. And in all Maritime affairs of this Nature, his Majesty is acknowledged to be the best judge amongst Seamen, and Shipwrights, as well as the most powerful amongst Princes.  

§. XXVIII. And the present Genius of our Nation.  By these, and many other instances it appears, that the King has not only given succour to the Royal Society, in the prosecution of their labours; but has also led them on in their way, and traced out to them the paths, in which they ought to tread. And with this propitious inclination of his Majesty, and the highest Degrees of men, the Genius of the Nation itself irresistibly conspires. If we reflect on all the past times of Learning in our Island; we may still observe some remarkable accidents, that retarded these studies, which were still ready to break forth, in spite of all opposition.  
Till the union of the two houses of York, and Lancaster, the whole force of our Country was engaged in Domestic Wars, between the King, and the Nobility, or in the furious contentions between the divided Families: unless sometimes some magnanimous Prince, was able to turn their strength, to foreign conquests. In King Henry the seventh, the two Roses were joined. His Government was like his own temper, close, severe, jealous, avaricious, and withal victorious, and prudent: but how unprepared his time was for new discoveries, is evident by the slender account that he made of the proposition of Columbus. The Reign of King Henry the eighth, was vigorous, haughty, magnificent, expensive, learned. But then the alteration of Religion began, and that alone was then sufficient to possess minds of men.  
The Government of King Edward the sixth was contentious, by reason of the factions of those who managed his childhood: and the shortness of his life deprived us of the fruits, that might have been expected, from the prodigious beginnings of the King himself. That of Queen Mary was weak, melancholy, bloody against the Protestants, obscured by a foreign Marriage, and unfortunate by the loss of Calais. That of Queen Elizabeth was long, triumphant, peaceable at home, and glorious abroad. Then it was shown, to what height the English may rise, when they are commanded by a Prince, who knows how to govern their hearts, as well as hands. In her days the Reformation was settled, commerce was established, and Navigation advanced. But though knowledge began abundantly to spring forth, yet it was not then seasonable for Experiments to receive a public encouragement: while the writings of antiquity, and the controversies between us, and the Church of Rome, were not fully studied, and dispatched.  
The Reign of King james was happy in all the benefits of Peace, and plentifully furnished with men of profound Learning. But in imitation of the King, they chiefly regarded the matters of Religion, and Disputation: so that even my Lord Bacon, with all his authority in the State, could never raise any College of Solomon, but in a Romance. That of King Charles the First, began indeed to be ripe for such undertake, by reason of the plenty, and felicity of the first years of his Government, and the abilities of the King himself: who was not only an inimitable Master, in reason and eloquence, but excelled in very many practical Arts, beyond the usual custom of Kings, nay even beyond the skill of the best Artists themselves. But he alas! was called away from the studies of quiet, and peace, to a more dangerous, and a more honourable reputation. The chief Triumphs that Heaven reserved for him, were to be gathered from his suffering virtues, in them he was only exceeded, by his Divine Example of our Saviour: in imitation of whose Passion, those afflictions, and those thorns which the rude Soldiers designed for his disgrace, and torment, became his glory, and his Crown.  
The late times of Civil War, and confusion, to make recompense for their infinite calamities, brought this advantage with them, that they stirred up men's minds from long ease, and a lazy rest, and made them active, industrious and inquisitive: it being the usual benefit that follows upon Tempests, and Thunders in the State, as well as in the Sky, that they purify, and clear the Air, which they disturb. But now since the King's return, the blindness of the former Ages, and the miseries of this last, are vanished away: now men are generally weary of the Relics of Antiquity, and satiated with Religious Disputes: now not only the eyes of men, but their hands are open, and prepared to labour: Now there is a universal desire, and appetite after knowledge, after the peaceable, the fruitful, the nourishing Knowledge: and not after that of ancient Sects, which only yielded hard indigestible arguments, or sharp contentions instead of food: which when the minds of men required bread, gave them only a stone, and for fish a serpent.  
Whatever they have hitherto attempted, 
Sect. XXIX. The subjects about which they have been employed.  on these Principles, and encouragements, it has been carried on with a vigorous spirit, and wonderful good Fortune, from their first constitution, down to this day. Yet I overhear the whispers, and doubts of many, who demand, what they have done all this while? and what they have produced, that is answerable to these mighty hopes, which we endeavour, to make the world conceive of their undertaking?  
If those who require this Account, have themselves performed any worthy things, in this space of time; it is fit, that we should give them satisfaction. But they who have done nothing at all, have no reason to upbraid the Royal Society, for not having done as much, as they fancy it might. To those therefore who excite it to work, by their examples, as well as words and reproofs, methinks it were a sufficient Answer, if I should only repeat the particulars, I have already mentioned, wherein the King has set on foot a Reformation, in the Ornaments, and Advantages of our Country. For though the original praise of all this is to be ascribed to the Genius of the King himself: yet it is but just, that some honour should thence descend to this Assembly, whose purposes are conformable to his Majesty's performances of that Nature: Seeing all the little scandals, that captious humours have taken against the Royal Society, have not risen from their general proceedings; but from a few pretended offences, of some of their private Members: it is but reason, that we should allege in their commendation, all the excellent Designs, which are begun by the King, who has not only styled himself their Founder, but acted as a particular Member of their Company.  
To this I will also add, that in this time, they have passed through the first difficulties of their Charter, and Model: and have overcome all oppositions, which are wont to arise, against the beginnings of great things. This certainly alone were enough to free them from all imputation of idleness, that they have framed such an Assembly in six years, which was never yet brought about in six thousand. Besides this the world is to consider, that if any that think, the whole compass of their work might have come to a sudden issue: they seem neither to understand the intentions of the Royal Society, nor the extent of their task. It was never their aim, to make a violent dispatch. They know that precipitancy in such matters, was the fault of the Ancients: And they have no mind, to fall into the same error, which they endeavour to correct. They began at first on so large a Bottom, that it is impossible, the whole Frame should be suddenly completed. 'Tis true, they that have nothing else to do, but to express, and adorn conclusions of Knowledge already made, may bring their Arts to an end, as soon as they please. But they who follow the slow, and intricate method of Nature, cannot have the seasons of their productions, so much in their own power. If we would always exact from them, daily or weekly harvests; we should wholly cut off the occasions of very many excellent Inventions, whose subjects are remote, and come but seldom under their consideration. If we should require them, immediately to reduce all their labours, to public, and conspicuous use, by this dangerous speed, we should draw them off from many of the best Foundations of Knowledge. Many of their noblest discoveries, and such as will hereafter prove most serviceable, cannot instantly be made to turn to profit. Many of their weightiest, and most precious Observations, are not always fit to be exposed to open view: For it is with the greatest Philosophers, as with the richest Merchants, whose Wares of greatest bulk and price, lie commonly out of sight, in their Warehouses, and not in their Shops.  
This being premised, I will however venture to lay down a brief draught of their most remarkable particulars: which may be reduced to these following heads: The Queries, and Directions, they have given abroad: the Proposals, and Recommendations they have made: the Relations they have received: the Experiments they have tried: the Observations they have taken: the Instruments they have inventted: the Theories that have been proposed: the Discourses they have written, or published: the Repository, and Library: and the Histories of Nature, and Arts, and Works, they have collected.  
Their manner of gathering, 
Sect. XXX. Their Queries, and Directions.  and dispersing Queries is this. First they require some of their particular Fellows, to examine all Treatises, and Descriptions, of the Natural, and Artificial productions of those Countries, in which they would be informed. At the same time, they employ others to discourse with the Seamen, Travellers, Tradesmen, and Merchants, who are likely to give them the best light. Out of this united Intelligence from Men and Books, they compose a Body of Questions, concerning all the observable things of those places. These Papers being produced in their weekly Assemblies, are augmented, or contracted, as they see occasion. And then the Fellows themselves are wont to undertake their distribution into all Quarters, according as they have the convenience of correspondence: of this kind I will here reckon up some of the Principal, whose Particular heads are free to all, that shall desire Copies of them for their Direction.  
They have composed Queries, and Directions, what things are needful to be observed, in order to the making of a Natural History in general: what are to be taken notice of towards a perfect History of the Air, and Atmosphere, and Wether: what is to be observed in the production, growth, advancing, or transforming of Vegetables: what particulars are requisite, for collecting a complete History of the Agriculture, which is used in several parts of this Nation.  
They have prescribed axact Inquiries, and given punctual Advice for the trial of Experiments of rarefaction, refraction, and condensation: concerning the cause, and manner of the Petrifaction of Wood: of the Loadstone: of the Parts of Anatomy, that are yet imperfect: of Injections into the Blood of Animals; and Transfusing the blood of one Animal into another: of Currents: of the ebbing, and flowing of the Sea: of the kinds, and manner of the feeding of Oysters: of the Wonders, and Curiosities observable in deep Mines.  
They have Collected, and sent abroad Inquiries for the East Indies, for China, for St. Helena, for Tenariff, or any high Mountain, for Ginny, for Barbary, and Morocco, for Spain, and Portugal, for Turkey, for France, for Italy, for Germany, for Hungary, for Transylvania, for Poland, and Sueden, for Iceland, and Greenland. They have given Directions for Seamen in General, and for observing the Eclipses of the Moon; for observing the Eclipses of the Sun by Mercury, in several parts of the World, and for observing the Satellites of jupiter.  
Of this their way of Enquiring, and giving Rules for direction, I will here produce a few Instances: from whose exactness it may be guessed, how all the rest are performed.  

The HISTORY of the ANSWERS RETURNED BY Sir PHILOBERTO VERNATTI Resident in Batavia in java Major, To certain Inquiries sent thither by Order of the Royal Society, and recommended by Sir ROBERT MORAY.  
Q. 1. Whether Diamonds and other Precious Stones grow again after three or four years, in the same places where they have been digged out?  
A. Never, or at least as the memory of man can attain to.  
Q. 2. Whether the Quarries of Stone in India, near Fetipoca, not far from Agra, may be cleft like Logs, and sawn like Planks, to ciel Chambers, and cover Houses.  
A. What they are about the Place mentioned, I have not as yet been well informed; but in Persia not far from Cyrus where the best Wine groweth, there is a sort of hard Stone which may be cleft like Firr-wood, as if it had a grain in it: the same is at the Coast Cormandel about Sadraspatuam; where they make but a mark in the Stone, set a wedge upon it, with a wooden hammer, as thick and thin as they please; it is used commonly for pavement in houses, one foot square, and so cheap, that such a stone finely polished costs not above six pence.  
Q. 3. Whether there be a Hill in Sumatra which burneth continually, and a Fountain which runneth pure Balsam.  
A. There is a Hill that burneth in Sumatra near Endrapoer; but I cannot hear of any such Fountain; and I believe that the like Hill is upon java Major opposite to Batavia: for in a clear morning or evening, from the Road a man may perfectly perceive a continual smoke rise from the top and vanish by little and little. I have often felt Earthquakes here, but they do not continue long; in the year 1656. or 57 (I do not remember well the time) Batavia was covered in one afternoon, about two of the Clock, with a black dust, which being gathered together, was so ponderous, that it exceeded the weight in Gold. ay, at that time, being very ill, did not take much notice of it, but some have gathered it, and if I light upon it shall send you some. It is here thought, it came out of the Hill: I never heard of any that had been upon this Hills top: Endrapeor is counted a mighty unwholesome place, as likewise all others where Pepper grows; as jamby Banjar, Balingtoan, etc. though some impute it to the Hills burning.  
As for the Fountain it is unknown to us, except Oleum Terrae is meant by it, which is to be had in Sumatra, but the best comes from Pegu.  
Q. 4. What River is that in Java Major that turns Wood into Stone?  
A. There is none such to our knowledge; yet I have seen a piece of Wood with a Stone at the end of it; which was told me, that was turned into Stone by a River in Pegu; but I took it but for a Foppery; for divers Arbusta grow in Rocks, which being appropriated curiously, may easily deceive a too hasty believer.  
Q. 5. Whether it be true, that upon the Coast of Achin in Sumatra, the Sea, though it be calm, groweth very high when no rain falls, but is smooth in rain, though it blows hard.  
A. Sometimes, but not always; the Reason is this, that Achin lieth at the very end and corner of Sumatra, as may be seen by the Map, open in the main Ocean, so that the Sea comes rolling from the Cabo de bona Esperanca, and all that way unto it, and it is natural to the Sea to have a continual motion, let it be never so calm; which motion cannot be called a Wave, neither have I any English for it at present, but in Dutch we call it, Deyninge van Dee Zee, and the calmer it is, the higher; the natural motion of the Sea elevates very slowly the water; so that I have seen Ships and Junks tossed by these Deynings in a calm, (when there is scarce wind enough to drive a bubble) that a man can scarce stand in them; some say this motion proceeds from boisterous winds at Sea far distant. That rain beats down the swelling of these Deynings (especially if it be vehement) proceeds naturally from its weight and impetuosity. And it is observed, that about Achin the Mountains are high and steep, from whose tops boisterous, called Travant, come suddenly (like a Granado cast) falling into the Sea, are accompanied commonly with a great shower of rain, and last not above a quarter, or at the most, half an hour, which is too short a time to disturb the Sea, or to cause a contrary motion in it, being sheltered by these Mountains.  
Q. 6. Whether in the Island of Sambrero, which lieth Northwards of Sumatra, about eight degrees Northern latitude, there be found such a Vegetable as Master James Lancaster relates to have seen, which grows up to a Tree, shrinks down when one offers to pluck it up into the ground, and would quite shrink unless held very hard? And whether the same, being forcibly plucked up, hath a worm for its root, diminishing more and more; according as the Tree groweth in greatness; and as soon as the Worm is wholly turned into the Tree, rooting in the ground, and so growing great? And whether the same plucked up young turns, by that time it is dry, into a hard Stone, much like to white Coral.  
A. I cannot meet with any that ever have heard of such a Vegetable.  
Q. 7. Whether those Creatures that are in these parts plump and in season at the full Moon, are lean and out of season at the new, find the contrary at the East-Indies.  
A. I find it so here, by Experience at Batavia, in Oysters and Crabs.  
Q. 8. What ground there may be for that Relation, concerning Horns taking root, and growing about Goa?  
A. Enquiring about this, a Friend laughed, and told me it was a Jeer put upon the Portuges, because the Women of Goa are counted much given to lechery.  
Q. 9 Whether the Indians can so prepare that stupifying Herb Datura, that they make it lie several days, months, years, according as they will have it, in a man's body, without doing him any hurt, and at the end kill him, without missing half an hours time?  
A. The China men in this place, have formerly used Datura as a Fermentation, to a sort of Drink much beloved by the Soldiers and Mariners, called Suykerbier, which makes them raging mad, so that it is forbidden strictly under the penalty of a great pain to make use of the same.  
Q. 10. Whether those that be stupefied by the juice of this Herb Datura, are recovered by moistening the soles of their feet in fair water?  
A. No. For I have seen divers Soldiers and Mariners fall into the Rivers and Ditches, being stupefied by their drink aforesaid, who were rather worse after they were taken out, than better.  
Q. 11. Whether a Betel hath such contrariety to the Durion, that a few leaves thereof put to a whole shopful of Durions, will make them all rot suddenly? And whether those who have surfeited on Durions, and thereby overheated themselves, do by laying one leaf of Betel cold upon the heart, immediately cure the Inflammations, and recover the Stomach? This Betel being thought to preserve those Indians from Toothache, loose Gums, and Scurvy, and from stinking breath; some of it is desired to be sent over with the fruit Areica, and the other Ingredients, and manner of preparing it.  
A. I have seen that Betel leaves in a short time will spoil a Durion, take away his nature, and turn a fat creamy substance into water. Commonly those that eat great quantities of Durions, eat a Betel afterwards as a Correctorium; but of laying a leaf upon the heart, I have never heard. As for the other qualities of the Betel, I believe they are good, if not abused; as most of the Indians do, who never are without it in their mouths, no not sleeping, which corrodes their teeth, and makes them as black as Jet: It draws from the head the Phlegmatic humours, which are voided by spitting; so we use it: but the Indians swallow down their spittle, together with the juice of the Betel, and the Areica. The manner of preparing it is easy, being nothing but the Nut leaf and Calx viva, of which last each one adds as much as pleaseth his palate. There is a sort of Fruit called Siugboa, which is used with the Areica, instead of Betel, and can be dried and transported as well as the Areica, and hath the same force, but a great deal more pleasant to the palate.  
Q. 12. Whether the Papayas, that beareth fruit like a Melon, do not grow, much less bear fruit, unless male and female be together?  
A They grow, as I have seen two in the English-house at Bantam, and bear little fruit, which never comes to perfection; but if the male and female be together, the one bears great Fruit, the other nothing but Flowers.  
Q. 13 Whether the Arbour Triste sheds its Flowers at the rising of the Sun, and shut them again at the setting of the Sun? And whether the distilled water thereof (called Aqua di Mogli by the Portugals) may not be transported to England? And whether at the rising of the Sun the leaves of the Arbour Triste drop off as well as the flowers?  
A. There is two sorts of the Arbour Triste; one is called by the Portugals Triste de Die, the other Triste de Nocte; the one sheds his Flowers at the Rising, the other at the Setting of the Sun; but neither of them shed their leaves. There is no body here that understands the distilling of waters; some say this Aqua di Mogli is to be had at Malaca, for which I have writ, and shall send it if procurable.  
Q. 14. Whether the Arbour de Rays, or Tree of Root, propagate itself in a whole Forest, by shooting up and letting fall roots from its branches into the ground, that spring up again, and so on?  
A. This is true. And we have divers trees about Batavia, and the like adjacent Islands, above fifty foot in the diameter.  
Q. 15. What kind of fruit is that in Jucca, which grows immediately out of the Trees body; and is said to breed the Plague if eaten immoderately?  
A. It is a fruit much like to Durion, which groweth in the same manner; hath a faint smell, and sweet waterish taste; for my part I do not affect them: The Plague is a Disease unknown amongst the Indians; but this fruit, as most others do, immoderately eaten, causes a Dirthea, which easily degenerates to a Tenasmus, by us called Peirsing, a dangerous Sickness, and worse than the Plague.  
Q. 16. What Poison is it the King of Macassar in Colebees is said to have particular to himself, which not only kills a man immediately, that hath received the slightest Wound by a Dart dipped therein, but also within half an hours time, make the flesh, touched with it, so rotten, that it will fall like Snivel from the Bones, and whose poisonous Steam will soon fly up to a Wound made with an unpoysoned Dart, if the Blood be only in the slightest manner touched with a Dart infected with the Poison? What certainty there is of this Relation?  
A. That there is such a Poison in this King's possession is most certain; but what it is, no Christian hitherto ever knew right. By the Government of Arnold De Flamminge Van Outshorn divers have been tortured; yea, killed.  
Some say it is the Gall of a Venomous Fish, Others say it is a Tree which is so Venomous, that those who are condemned to die, fetch the Poison, but not one of an hundred scape death: the Roots of this Tree are held an Antidote against the Poison; but our People, when we had War with Macassar, found no Antidote like to their own or others Excrements; as soon as they felt themselves wounded, instantly took a dose of this same, which presently provoked to vomit, and so, by repulsion, (as I perceive) and sweat, freed the Noble parts from further Infection. That a Wound should be infected by this Poison, though inflicted by an empoisoned Weapon, is not strange to those who study Sympathy; And set belief in that much renowned Sympathetical Powder of Sir Kenelm Digby. Yet such Effects of the Macassars Arts are unknown to us.  
Q. 17. Whether in Pegu and other places in the East-Indies, they use a Poison that kills by smelling, and yet the Poison smell is hardly perceived?  
To this no Answer was returned.  
Q. 18. Whether Camphire comes from Trees? What kind of Trees they are in Borneo, that are said to yield much excellent Camphire, as that one pound thereof is said to be worth an hundred of that of China and other places?  
A. Camphire comes from Trees of an Excessive bulk, as you may see by the Chests which comes from jappan into Europe, made of the same wood of Burneo; it comes likewise from Trees, which are said to stand in Sandy Ground. And drop like a Gum.  
But of late an Experiment is found in Ceylon, that the Root of a Cinnamon Tree yields as good Camphire, as either jappan, or China, of which I shall send you a pattern, being now to be had at present here; as also an Oil extracted from the same Roots, which reserves something of the Cinnamon smell: but may be the fault of the Distiller  
Q. 19 Whether some of that rare Wood, called Palo d' Aquila and Calamba, of an Extraordinary value, even in the Country where it groweth, as in Siam about San and Patan, and in Cochinchina, may not be brought over; as also some of those strange Nests of Cochinchina, made by Birds upon Rocks, of a certain viscous froth of the Sea, which Nests grown dry and hard, are said to become transparent; and when dissolved in Water; serves excellently to season all their Meats?  
A. If the Question be made, whether these things may be brought over by permission of the Company? I answer: as first, that their Laws forbid the transportation of all whatsoever, whether necessary to the conservation of Health, or acquisition of Wealth, or Rarities, etc. but if the Querie be concerning the nature and substance of the Wood and Nests: they are transportable, and can subsist without decaying many years. Lignum Aquilae is far inferior to Calamba, though not easy to be discerned: the pound of Calamba is worth in jappan thirty, and sometimes forty pounds Sterling; the best comes from Cambodia, and seems to be the pith of the Tree Aquilae in jappan, it is used as Incense to perfume Cloth, and Chambers. It is held for a great Cordial, and commonly used by that Nation, as also the Chineses: In Defectione spirituum vitalium; as in Paralisi & Nervorum laxatione & impotentia: They rub it with Aqua Cynamoni upon a Stone, till the substance of the Wood is mixed, sicut pulpa, with the Water, and so drink it with Wine, or what they please: The Birds-nests are a great Restorative to Nature, and much used by the lecherous Chinaes'.  
Q. 20. Whether the Animal called Abados, or Rhinoceros, hath teeth, claws, flesh, blood, and skin▪ yea his very dung and water, as well as his horns, Antidotal? And whether the horns of those beasts be better or worse, according to the food they live upon.  
A. Their horns, teeth, claws, and blood are esteemed Antidotes, and have the same use in the Indian Pharmacopeia as the Therieca hath in ours: the flesh I have eaten is very sweet and short: some days before the Receipt of your Letter, I had a young one no bigger than a Spaniel Dog, which followed me wherever I went, drinking nothing but Buffulo milk, lived about three weeks, than his teeth began to grow, and got a looseness, and died. 'Tis observed, that Children (especially of European Parents) at the breaking out of their teeth are dangerous sick, and commonly die of the scouring in these parts. His skin I have caused to be dried, and so present it unto you, since fate permits not to send him you living; such a young one was never seen before: The food I believe is all one to this Animal, being that they are seldom seen but amongst withered Branches, Thistles and Thorns; so that the horn is of equal virtue.  
Q. 21. Whether the falsifying of the China Musk is not rather done by mixing Oxen and Cows Livers dried and pulverised with some of the putrified and concrete flesh and blood of the China Musk-cat, than by beating together the bare flesh and blood of this Animal, etc.  
Not answered.  
Q. 22. Whether there be two sorts of Gumlack, one produced from a certain winged Ant, the other the Exudation of a Tree: The first had in the Islands of Suachan, the last in the Kingdom of Martaban?  
A. We know of none but such as drop from Trees, and comes from divers places in Siam, Cambodia, Pegu, etc.  
Q. 23. If the best Ambergris be found in the Islands Socotora and Aniana, near Java? To endeavour the getting of more certain knowledge; what it is, being reported to be bred in the bottom of the Sea like to a thick mud?  
A. The best that is in the World comes from the Island Mauritius; And is commonly found after a Storm. The Hogs can smell it at a great distance; who run like mad to it, and devour it commonly before the people come to it. It is held to be a Zeequal viscosity, which being dried by the Sun, turns to such a Consistence as is daily seen. Myavines father Isaac Vigny a Frenchman in Oleron, hath been a great Traveller in his time, and he told me, he sailed once in his youth through so many of these Zeequalen, as would have loaded ten thousand Ships; the like having been never seen; his Curiosity did drive him to take up some of those, which being dried in the Sun, were perceived to be the best Ambergris in the World; I have seen one piece which he kept for a Memento, and another piece he sold for 1300 l. Sterling. This being discovered, they set sail to the same place where these Zeequelen appeared, and crusing there, to and fro, for the space of six weeks, but could not perceive any more. Where this place is situated, I do not know; but Monsieur Gentillot, a French Captain in Holland, can tell you.  
Q. 24. To inquire of the Divers for Pearls staying long under water; whether they do it by the assistance of anything they carry with them, or by long and often use get a trick of holding their breath so long, at the Isle of Baharen near Ormus?  
A What they do at Baharen is unknown to me, but since we have had Tute Corein in Ceylon, where very good Pearls grow, I hear the Divers use no Artifice. The manner is thus; at a set time of the year Merchants come from all parts, as likewise Divers with their Boats; each Boat hath a certain quantity of square Stones, upon which Stones the Divers go down, and give a token to their Companions, when they think it time to be haled up: each Stone pays tribute to the Company. The Oyster or Shellfish is not immediately opened, but laid on heaps, or in holes at the Seaside. When the Diving time is ended, the Merchants come, and buy these heaps, according as they can agree, not knowing whether they shall get any thing or no. So that this is a mere Lottery. This Pearl-fishing is dangerous, being the Divers commonly make their Will, and take leave of their Friends, before they tread the Stone to go down.  
Q. 25. Whether Cinnamon when first gathered hath no taste at all, but acquires its taste and strength by fifteen days sunning? And whether the Bark be gathered every two years in the Isle of Ceylon?  
A. The Cinnamon Tree as it groweth, is so fragrant, that it may be smelled a great way off before it be seen. And hath even then, a most Excellent taste; so that by Sunning it looseth rather than acquires any taste or force; the Tree being peeled is cut down to the root; but the young Sprigs after a year or two give the best and finest Cinnamon.  
Q. 26. To learn, if it may be, what Art the Master-workmen of Pegu, have to add to the colour of their Rubies?  
A. Not answered.  
Q. 27. To inquire after, and get, if possible, some of the Bones of the Fish called Caballa, which are so powerful in stopping blood.  
A. 'Tis done, and they shall follow with the Dutch Ships.  
Q. 28. Whether at Hermita, a Town in Ethiopia, there are Tortoises, so big, that Men may ride upon them?  
A. It is reported, that there be extraordinary great ones there; I have seen some Sea-Tortoises here, of four foot broad, in oval form, very low legged, but of that strength, that a man may stand on one: The manner of catching them, is to turn them with a Fork upon their backs.  
Q. 29. Whether there be a Tree in Mexico, that yields Water, Wine, Vinegar, Oil, Milk, Honey, Wax, Thread and Needles?  
A. The Cokos Trees yields all this and more; the Nut, while it is green, hath very good Water in it, the Flower being cut, drops out great quantity of liquor, called Sury, or Taywack, which drank fresh, hath the force, and almost the taste of Wine; grown sour, is very good Vinegar; and distilled, makes very good Brandy, or Areck: The Nut grated, and mingled with water, tasteth like Milk: pressed, yields very good Oil; Bees swarm in these Trees, as well as in other; Thread & Needles are made of the leaves and tough twigs. Nay, to add something to this description; in Amboina, they make Bread of the body of the Tree, the leaves serve to thatch houses, and likewise sails for their Boats.  
Q. 30. Whether about Java, there be Oysters of that vast bigness, as to weigh three hundred weight?  
A. I have seen a Shellfish, but nothing like an Oyster, of such a bigness, the Fish being salted, and kept in pickle, afterwards boiled, tasteth like Brawn in England, and is of an horny substance.  
Q. 31. Whether near Malacca, there be found in the Gall of certain Swine, a Stone esteemed incomparably above Bezoar?  
A. In that Country, but very seldom, there grows a Stone, in the Stomach of a Porkapine, called Pedro Porco: of whose virtue there are large descriptions: and the Hollanders are now so fond, that I have seen 400. Dollars of ● given for one no bigger than a Pigeon's Egg; There is sophistication as well in that as Bezoar, Musk, etc. and every day new falsehood, so that I cannot well set down here any rules, but must be judged by experience. A false one I send you, which doth imitate very near virtue, the true one, but is a great deal bigger, and of another colour.  
As for the Observations desired of the Islands Saint Helena, and Ascension, they may be better made by the English East-India men, which commonly touch at both places; but the Hollander never, or very seldom.  
Q. 32. Whether it be winter at the East-side of the Mountain Gates, which comes from the North to Cape Comoryn, whilst it is summer on the Westside? and Vice versa.  
A. Not only there, but likewise on the Island of Zeylon.  
Q. 33. In what Country Lignum Aloes is found, whether it be the Wood of a Tree? or the Root of a Tree? How to know the best of the Kind?  
A. Lignum Aloes, Lignum Paradisi, Calamba, are Synonyma, the same: And the same Wood comes most from Cambodia, and Siam; but they say it it brought by the people of Lawlan, a Country about Cambodia, whence Musk, and Benzoin, and most Aromada come: it is easily distinguished from other Wood, by its strong scent and richness of Balm in it, which appears in its blackness: it is of great Value, and hard to be gotten here.  
The rest of the Queries are not answered, because the time is short since I received them, and especially, because I cannot meet with any one that can satisfy me, and being unsatisfied myself, I cannot nor will obtrude any thing upon you, which may hereafter prove fabulous; but shall still serve you with truth.   

A METHOD For making a History of the Wether. By Mr. HOOK.  
FOr the better making a History of the Wether, I conceive it requisite to observe, 

1. The Strength and Quarter of the Winds, and to register the Changes as often as they happen; both which may be very conveniently shown, by a small addition to an ordinary Weather-clock.  
2. The Degrees of Heat and Cold in the Air; which will be best observed by a sealed Thermometer, graduated according to the Degrees of Expansion, which bear a known proportion to the whole bulk of Liquor, the beginning of which gradation, should be that dimension which the Liquor hath, when encompassed with Water, just beginning to freeze, and the degrees of Expansion, either greater or less, should be set or marked above it or below it.  
3. The Degrees of Dryness and Moisture in the Air; which may be most conveniently observed by a Hygroscope, made with the single beard of a wild Oat perfectly ripe, set upright and headed with an Index, after the way described by Emanuel Magnan; the conversions and degrees of which, may be measured by divisions made on the rim of a Circle, in the Centre of which, the Index is turned round: The beginning or Standard of which Degree of Rotation, should be that, to which the Index points, when the beard, being throughly wet, or covered with Water, is quite unwreathed, and becomes strait. But because of the smallness of this part of the Oat, the cod of a wild Vetch may be used instead of it, which will be a much larger Index, and will be altogether as sensible of the changes of the Air.  
4. The degrees of Pressure in the Air: which may be several ways observed, but best of all with an Instrument with Quicksilver, contrived so, as either by means of water or an Index, it may sensibly exhibit the minute variations of that Action.  
5. The constitution and face of the Sky or Heavens; and this is best done by the eye; here should be observed, whether the Sky be clear or clouded; and if clouded, after what manner; whether with high Exhalations or great white Clouds, or dark thick ones. Whether those Clouds afford Fogs or Mists, or Sleet, or Rain, or Snow, etc. Whether the under side of those Clouds be flat or waved and irregular, as I have often seen before thunder. Which way they drive, whether all one way, or some one way, some another; and whether any of these be the same with the Wind that blows below; the Colour and face of the Sky at the rising and setting of the Sun and Moon; what Haloes or Rings may happen to encompass those Luminaries, their bigness form and number.  
6. What Effects are produced upon other bodies: As what Aches and Distempers in the bodies of men: what Diseases are most rife, as Colds, Fevours, Agues, etc. What putrefactions or other changes are produced in other bodies; As the sweeting of Marble, the burning blue of a Candle, the blasting of Trees and Corn; the unusual sprouting, growth, or decay of any Plants or Vegetables: the putrefaction of bodies not usual; the plenty or scarcity of Infects; of several Fruits, Grains, Flowers, Roots, cattle, Fishes, Birds, any thing notable of that kind. What conveniences or inconveniences may happen in the year, in any kind, as by floods, droughts, violent showers, etc. What nights produce dews and hoar-frosts, and what not?  
7. What Thunders and Lightnings happen, and what Effects they produce; as souring Beer or Ale, turning Milk, killing Silkworms, & c?  
8. Any thing extraordinary in the Tides; as double Tides, later or earlier, greater or less Tides than ordinary. Rising or drying of Springs; Comets or unusual Apparitions, new Stars, Ignes fatui or shining Exhalations, or the like.    
These should all or most of them be diligently observed and registered by some one, that is always conversant in or near the same place.  
Now that these and some other, hereafter to be mentioned, may be registered so as to be most convenient for the making of comparisons, requisite for the raising Axioms, whereby the Cause or Laws of Wether may be found out; It will be desirable to order them so, that the Scheme of a whole Month, may at one view be presented to the Eye: And this may conveniently be done on the pages of a Book in folio, allowing fifteen days for one side, and fifteen for the other. Let each of those pages be divided into nine Columes, and distinguished by perpendicular lines; let each of the first six Columes be half an inch wide, and the three last equally share the remaining of the side.  
Let each Column have the title of what it is to contain, in the first at least, written at the top of it: As, let the first Column towards the left hand, contain the days of the Month, or place of the Sun, and the remarkable hours of each day. The second, the Place, Latitude, Distance, Ages and Phaces of the Moon. The third the Quarters and strength of Winds. The fourth the Heat and Cold of the season. The fifth the Dryness and Moisture of it. The sixth the Degrees of pressure. The seventh the faces and appearances of the Sky. The eighth the Effects of the Wether upon other bodies, Thunders, Lightnings, or any thing extraordinary. The ninth general Deductions, Corollaries or Syllogisms, arising from the comparing the several Phaenomena together.  
That the Columes may be large enough to contain what they are designed for, it will be necessary, that the particulars be expressed with some Characters, as brief and compendious as is possible. The two first by the Figures and Characters of the Signs, commonly used in Almanacs. The Winds may be expressed by the Letters, by which they are expressed in small Sea-Cards: and the degrees of strength by 1, 2, 3, 4, etc. according as they are marked in the contrivance of the Weathercock. The degrees of Heat and Cold may be expressed by the Numbers appropriate to the Divisions of the Thermometer. The Dryness and Moisture, by the Divisions in the rim of the Hydroscope. The pressure by Figures denoting the height of the Mercurial Cylinder. But for the faces of the Sky, they are so many, that many of them want proper names; and therefore it will be convenient to agree upon some determinate ones, by which the most usual may be in brief expressed. As let Clear signify a very clear Sky without any Clouds or Exhalations: Chequered a clear Sky, with many great white round Clouds, such as are very usual in Summer. Hazy, a Sky that looks whitish, by reason of the thickness of the higher parts of the Air, by some Exhalation not form into Clouds. Thick, a Sky more whitened by a greater company of Vapours: these do usually make the Luminaries look bearded or hairy, and are oftentimes the cause of the appearance of Rings and Haloes about the Sun as well as the Moon. Overcast, when the Vapours so whiten and thicken the Air, that the Sun cannot break through; and of this there are very many degrees, which may be expressed by a little, much, more, very much overcast, etc. Let Hairy signify a Sky that hath many small, thin and high Exhalations, which resemble locks of hair, or flakes of Hemp or Flax: whose varieties may be expressed by strait or curved, etc. according to the resemblance they bear. Let Watered signify a Sky that has many high thin and small Clouds, looking almost like watered Tabby, called in some places a Mackeril Sky. Let a Sky be called Waved, when those Clouds appear much bigger and lower, but much after the same manner. Cloudy, when the Sky has many thick dark Clouds. Lowering, when the Sky is not very much overcast, but hath also underneath many thick dark Clouds which threaten rain. The signification of gloomy, foggy, misty, sleeting, driving, rainy, snowy, reaches or racks variable, etc. are well known, they being very commonly used. There may be also several faces of the Sky compounded of two or more of these, which may be intelligibly enough expressed by two or more of these names. It is likewise desirable, that the particulars of the eighth and ninth Columes may be entered in as little room, and as few words as are sufficient to signify them intelligibly and plainly.  
It were to be wished that there were divers in several parts of the World, but especially in distant parts of this Kingdom, that would undertake this work, and that such would agree upon a common way somewhat after this manner, that as near as could be, the same method and words might be made use of. The benefit of which way is easily enough conceivable.  
As for the Method of using and digesting those so collected Observations; That will be more advantageously considered when the Supellex is provided; A Workman being then best able to fit and prepare his Tools, for his work, when he sees what materials he has to work upon.   

A SCHEME At one View representing to the Eye the Observations of the Wether for a Month.  
Days of the Month and place of the Sun. Remarkable house. Age and sign of the Moon at Noon. The Quarters of the Wind and its strength. The Degrees of Heat and Cold. The Degrees of Dryness and Moisture. The Degrees of Pressure. The Faces or visible appearances of the Sky. The Notablest Effects. General Deductions to be made after the side is fitted with Observations: As,  4  W. 2. 9 ¼ 2 5 29 1/11 Clear blue, but yellowish in the N. E. Clouded toward the S. Chequered blue. A great dew. From the last quart: of the Moon to the change the weather was very temperate but cold for the season; the Wind pretty constant between N. and W.  8 27 3 12 ½ 2 8   14 12 ♉ 9.46. 3½ 16   Thunder, far to the South. A very great Tide. ♊ 4    2 9 29 ⅛ 12.46 8 Perigeun.  10 1/8    12  W.SW. 1 7 ½ 2 29 ⅛   8  N.W. 3 9 2 8½ 29 1/16 A clear Sky all day, but a little chequered at 4. P. M. at Sunset red and hazy. Not by much so big a Tide as yesterday. Thunder in the North.  15 4 28 4  29   ♊ 6 ♉ 24.51. N. 2 8 ½   A little before the last great Wind, and till the Wind rose at its highest, the Quicksilver continued descending till it came very low; after which it began to reascend, etc. 13.40 10  1 7 2 10 29  10 N. Moon. at 7. 25′ A. M. S. 1 10 1 10 28 ½ Overcast and very lowering. etc. No dew upon the ground, but very much upon Marble stones, etc. 16      ♊      14.37  ♊ 10.8.        &c. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.   

DIRECTION For the Observations of the Eclipses of the MOON. By Mr. ROOK.  
EClipses of the Moon are observed for two principal Ends; One Astronomical, that by comparing Observations with Calculations, the Theory of the Moon's motion may be perfected, and the Tables thereof reform: The other Geographical, that by comparing among themselves Observations of the same Elliptical Phases, made in divers places, the difference of Meridian's, or Longitudes of those places may be discovered.  
The Knowledge of the Eclipses Quantity and Duration, the Shadows, Curvity and Inclination, etc. conduce only to the former of these Ends: The exact time of the beginning, middle, and end of the Eclipses, as also in total ones, the beginning and end of total darkness is useful for both of them.  
But because these times considerably differ in Observations made by the bare eye, from those with a Telescope, and because the beginning of Eclipses and the end of Total darkness are scarce to be observed exactly, even with Glasses (one not being able clearly to distinguish between the true shadow and Penumbra, unless one have seen, for some time before, the line, separating them, pass along upon the surface of the Moon). And lastly, because in small partial Eclipses, the beginning and end (and in total ones of short continuance in the shadow, the beginning and end of total darkness) are unfit for nice Observations, by reason of the slow change of apparences, which the oblique motion of the shadow than causeth: For these Reasons I shall propound a Method particularly designed for the accomplishment of the Geographical end in observing Lunar Eclipses free (as far as is possible) from all the mentioned inconveniences: For,  
First, It shall not be practicable without a Telescope.  
Secondly, The Observer shall always have Opportunity before his principal Observation, to note the distinction between the true shadow and Penumbra.  
Thirdly, It shall be applicable to those seasons of the Eclipse, when there is the suddenest alteration in the apparences. To satisfy all which intents,  
Let there be of the eminentest Spots, dispersed over all Quarters of the Moon's surface, a select number generally agreed on, to be constantly made use of to this purpose, in all parts of the world: As for Example, those which Hevelius calleth 

Mons 

Sinai  
Aetna  
Porphyrites  
Serrorum    
Insula 

Besbicus  
Creta    
Palus 

Maeotis  
Maraeotis    
Lacus Niger Major.    
Let in each Eclipse (not all, but for instance) three of these Spots, which then lie nearest to the Ecliptic, be exactly observed, when they are first touched by the true shadow, and again when they are just completely entered into it; and (if you please) also in the decrease of the Eclipse, when they are first fully clear from the true shadow: For the accurate determination of which moments of time (that being in this business of main importance) let there be taken Altitudes of remarkable fixed Stars, on this side the line, of such as lie between the Aequator and Tropic of Cancer; but beyond the line, of such as are situated towards the other Tropic; and in all places, of such, as at the time of Observation, are about four hours distant from the Meridian.   

Mr. ROOK'S DISCOURSE Concerning the Observations of the Eclipses of the Satellites of jupiter.  
LOngitudinis sive Differentiae Meridianorum scientia est vel Nautica, vel Geographica.  
Illa Navis aquae innatantis; Haec Vrbium, Insularum, Promontoriorum, etc. Globo terrestri adhaerentium situm investigat.  
In Navi, motu vario subinde translatâ; Observatio identidem est repetenda; at loci terreni, fixam perpetuò sedem obtinentis, positionem semel determinasse sufficit.  
Maria, fluctibus ut plurimum agitata, subtilem Instrumentorum, praesertim Telescopii longioris tractationem minime permittunt.  
Longitudinis Scientia Nautica vix unquam de Caelo expectanda: Geographica vero ab Eclipsibus Corporum coelestium praecipuè petenda.  
Eclipses sunt vel 

Veteribus notae, scil. Solis & Lunae  
Satellitum jovis, ante Tubi Optici usum incognitae.   (Missam fecimus Cl. Hugenii Lunulam Saturniam, Observatu difficiliorem.)  
Illarum per multa retro saecula Observationes; nè duo quidem loca quantum Meridianorum intercapidinem habeant, satis certò definitum esse Experimur: harum verò per pauculos annos adhibendâ diligenti animadversione; praecipuae totius terrarum Orbis parts, quomodo ad se invicem sitae sint, accuratiùs determinatum it i non desperamus.  
Causae, ob quas minùs in hoc negotio praestitêre Eclipses Luminarium, 
Sunt 
1. Communis, utrisque ipsarum Raritas  Propria 
2. Solari, Parallaxis Lunae.  Propria 
3. Lunari, Penumbra Terrae.    
His ergo praeferimus Satellitum jovialium defectus frequentissimos, sine ulla Parallaxi, in quibus etiam penumbra jovis prodesse magis, quam officere videtur.  
Methodus Longitudinis, ex Eclipsibus vel aliis Phaenomenis Coelestibus, indagandae àuplex est: una, cum tempore ad Meridianum Tabularum proprium supputato, tempus alibi observatum; Altera, tempora variis in locis observata, inter se comparat.  
Cum Arti Nauticae Prior illa unicè interserviat quae motus coelestes accuratiùs multò, quam nobis sperandum videtur, cognitos supponit; ob Astronomiae imperfectionem, & observationum Marinarum hallucinationem perpetuo ferè necessarium: supra pronunciavimus Longitudinis Scientiam Nauticam vix unquam de Coelo expectandam.  
Methodus altera, Geographiae perficiendae idonea, cum non aliam ob causam praevium Calculum adhibeat, nisi ut eo moniti plures, eidem Phaenomeno, in dissitis locis, observando simul invigilent; Periodorum atque Epocharum 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 minimè desiderat.  
Satellites jovis numero sunt quatuor, varia apud Authores nomina sortiti; nos ex diversis, quae a jove obtinent intervallis, 1. Intimum, 2. Penintimum, 3. Penextimum, 4. Extimum appellabimus.  
Horum non nisi uniusmodi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Observandum proponimus; immersionem nempè in Vmbram jovis sive ipsum Eclipseces initium.  
Solam hanc 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 seligimus, utpote in indivisibili ferò constitutam: Licet enim luminis languor atque diminutio moram aliquantulam trahere possit, omnimodo tamen Extinctio & Evanescentia (de qua unicé soliciti sumus) momento quasi contingere deprehendetur.  
Ante ☍ ☉ ♃ Satellites ad Occidentem Disci jovialis respectu, in deliquia incidunt; post Acronychia, ad Orientem.  
Intimi & (nisi fortè rarissimè) penintimi Eclips●●● tantum Occidentalium initia nobis apparere possunt: duorum autem remotiorum multa etiam Orientalium exordia conspicere licet.  
Defectus, Medicaeorum observatu faciliores reddant. 1. Major Planetarum claritas. 2. Motus ipsorum tardior. 3. Penumbra jovis crassior. 4. Longius a joviali Disco intervallum: at Observationum 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 condicit. 1. Motus Satellitum velocior. 2. Penumbra jovis angustior.  
Haec omnia nobiscum meditati, subduct â benè singulorum ratione, Satellitum intimum & penextimum ad rem nostram prae coeteris accommodatos; atque adeò cum satis frequentes sint ipsorum Eclipses, solos adhibendos esse judicamus.  
Extimum omninò negligimus utpotè minimum omnium & obscurissimum; praesertim verò quod tantâ non-nunquam sit Latitudine praedictus, ut Vmbra jovis ipsum Aphelium neutiquam attingat.  
Penintimus autem nullâ gaudet ex suprà recensitis Praerogatiuâ, quae alterutri saltem eorrum, quos jam praetulimus, potiori jure non debeatur.  
Maxima, Satellitum in Vmbra incidentium, a limbo Disci jovialis distantia, unâ aut alterâ, post priorem Solis & jovis quadraturam, bebdomada contingit.  
Estque ea Penextimi sesquidiametro jovis ferè aequatis: Intimi verò semidiametro ejusdem non multò major sextâ ante memoratam Quadraturam Hebdomada; Penextimus Vmbram ingrediens Diametro jovis à disco abest: Augendâ indè usque ad maximam distantiâ incremento (non uniformi sed) continue decrescente.  
Hinc iisdem reciprocè passibus (decremento sc. sensim increscente) diminuitur istiusmodi intervallum, ad bimestre usque tempus a dictâ Quadraturâ elapsum, quando iterum Diametro joviali aequatur.  
Posteà autem usque ad ipsa Acronychia, penextimus Vmbram subiturus, aequabili ferê gradu (singulis nempe hebdomadis quadrante Diametri) promotus ad limbum jovis accedit. Intimi, pro diverso jovis ad solem situ, distantia eâdem planè ratione variatur: ejus enim, quam ubique obtinet, Penextimus, trienti fere perpetuo est aequalis.  
Mense circiter post jovem soli oppositum, Penextimus (Intimi post ☍ ☉ ♃, immersiones observari non posse suprà innuimus) simul ac corporis jovialis limbum orientalem transierit, Occidentalem umbra continuo intrabit.  
Ind augetur paulatim penextimi evanescentis distantia, donec unâ aut alterâ ante posteriorem quadraturam hebdomadâ, maxima evadat; quando a disci jovialis margine semidiametro ejusdem removetur.  
Postquam autem hucusque diminutâ sensim velocitate, umbra jovis ab ipsius Disco recessit: hinc, motu continue accelerato, ad eundem redit.  
Per bimestre ante & post jovis cum sole conjunctionem spatium in locis Longitudine multum differentibus, eadem Eclipsis apparere nequit: adeoque tunc temporis observationes instituere non est operae pretium.  
Quae cum ita sint, tempus quadrimestre, a sextili priori usque ad ipsa ferè Acronychia numerandum, utrique Satelliti Observando erit unice opportunum: Penextimi autem soli, insuper trimestre, ab altero post oppositionem mense ad sextilem posteriorem.  
Intra tempora jam definita, octoginta circiter utriusque simul Satellitis fient Eclipses; Penextimi sc. fere triginta, intimi autem quinquaginta.  
H●●s cum (non ubivis terrarum sed) aliae aliis in locis sint conspiciendae, in sex Classes digeremus.  
1. In Europâ & Africâ 
Eclipses observandas comprehendet.  2. In Asiâ. 
Eclipses observandas comprehendet.  3. In Americâ. 
Eclipses observandas comprehendet.  4. In Europa Africa & Asia. 
Eclipses observandas comprehendet.  5. In Europa, Africa & America. 
Eclipses observandas comprehendet.  6. In Asia Orient. & America Occident. 
Eclipses observandas comprehendet.   
Non opus est fortè, ut moneamus in Insulis 

Oceani Aethiopici observandam esse Classem 4 am.  
Oceani Atlantici observandam esse Classem 5 am.  
Oceani Pacifici observandam esse Classem 6 am.    
Calculus Eclipsium a nobis exhibendus in ipso fortasse loco ad quem instituitur, plus horâ integrâ nonnunquam à uèro observabit, ob variam se. in Satellitum motu 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ab Excentricitate (ut verisimile est) & propriarum ipsis Orbitarum ad jovis Orbitam inclinatione oriundam.  
Alibi autem térrarum multo minus calculo fidendum, propter incertam insuper in plerisque locis Meridianorum Differentiam; quae tamen, ut fiat, Reductio temporis, aliqua utcunque adhibenda est.  
Longam itaque futuram sepiuscute Eclipsium harum expectationem praemonemus, assiduamque interim attentionem, nec (ob 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 admodum 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) unquam fere interruptam, esse continuandum: primam enim, quam visu assequi possumus, luminis diminutionem, brevissimá (praesertim in intimo) interpositâ morulâ mox insequitur perfecta ejus extinctio.  
Molestum autem in observando taedium, summa 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 abunde compensabit, idemque plurimum minuit sociorum mutuas operas tradentium, ubi suppetit praesentia.  
Ad momenta temporis accuratissime notanda (quod in hujusmodi Observationibus est Palmarium) perutile erit Horologium Oscillatorium, ab ingeniosissimo & candidissimo Hugenio feliciter excogitatum.  

Appendix.  
LOngitudinis Sientiam Nauticam vix unquam de Coelo expectandam suprà asseruimus: siqua tamen ejusmodi aliquando futura est; non aliud Fundamentum, quam Lunarium motuum praecisam cognitionem, habitura videtur. Horum autem restitutionem a Parallaxi inchoandam solertissime monuit Keplerus. Parallaxeus verò indagandae, & a Lunae latitudine (cui semper ferè complicatur) distinguendae optima (si non sola) Methodus est; quae, in regionibus longe dissitis & sub eodem Meridiano positis, altitudinum. Lunae Meridianarum, per singulas orbitae parts, simul observatarum series innititur: inde enim, Polorum elevatione solum praecognitâ, sertissima innotescit Globi Lunaris à Terrestri distantia. Proponimus itaque nos Africa Promontorium Cap. Bonae Spei, vel in Oceano Atlantico Sanctae Helenae Insulam, cum locis in Europá iis respondentibus, Satellitum open, docuimus, determinandis, in quibus istiusmodi observationes commodissime instituantur.  
Upon the Reading of these last Directions, Mr. Rook the Author of them being dead, I cannot forbear saying something of that excellent Man, which his incomparable Modesty would not have permitted me to write, if he had been living. He was indeed a man of a profound judgement, a vast comprehension, prodigious memory, solid experience. His skill in the Mathematics was reverenced, by all the lovers of those studies: and his perfection in many other sorts of Learning, deserves no less admiration. But above all, his Knowledge had a right influence, on the temper of his mind, which had all the humility, goodness, calmness, strength, and sincerity of a sound, and unaffected Philosopher. This is spoken not of one, who lived long ago, in praising of whom, it were easy to feign, and to exceed the Truth, where no man's memory could confute me: But of one, who is lately dead, who has many of his acquaintance still living, that are able to confirm this testimony, and to join with me, in delivering down his name to posterity, with this just character of his Virtues. He died in the year sixty two, shortly after the establishment of the Royal Society, whose Institution he had zealously promoted. And it was a deplorable accident in his Death, that he deceased the very night, which he had for some years expected, wherein to finish his accurate Observations on the Satellites of jupiter: however this Treasure will not be lost, for the Society has referred it to some of the best Astronomers of Europe, to bring his beginnings to conclusion.  

Sect. XXXI Their Proposals and Recommendations.  To many of these Queries they have already received good returns, and satisfaction: and more such Accounts are daily expected from all coasts. Besides these, there have been several great and profitable Attempts, relating to the good of mankind, or the English Nation, propounded to them, by many public Bodies, and private persons: which they have again recommended, to be examined apart, by divers of their own number, and by other men of ability and integrity, who have accepted of their Recommendations of this kind, the Principal, that I find recorded in their Registers, are these.  
They have propounded the composing a Catalogue of all Trades, Works, and Manufactures, wherein men are employed, in order to the collecting each of their Histories: by taking notice of all the Physical Receipts, or Secrets, the Instruments, Tools, and Engines, the Manual operations or sleights, the cheats, and ill practices, the goodness, baseness, and different value of Materials, and whatever else belongs to the operations of all Trades.  
They have recommended the making a Catalogue, of all the kinds of natural things to be found in England. This is already in a very good forwardness. And for its better completing, many Expedients for the preserving, drying, and embalming of all living Creatures have been prosecuted.  
They have suggested the making a perfect Survey, Map, and Tables of all the fixed Stars within the Zodiac, both visible to the naked eye, and discoverable by a six foot Telescope, with a large aperture; towards the observing the apparent places of the Planets, with a Telescope both by Sea and Land. This has been approved, and begun, several of the Fellows having their portions of the Heavens allotted to them.  
They have recommended the advancing of the Manufacture of Tapestry: the improving of Silk making: the propagating of Saffron: the melting of Lead-Oar with Pit-coal: the making Iron with Sea-coal: the using of the Dust of Black Lead instead of Oil in Clocks: the making Trials on English Earth's, to see if they will not yield so fine a substance as China, for the perfecting of the Potter's Art.  
They have propounded, and undertaken the comparing of several soils, and Clays, for the better making of Bricks, and Tiles: the way of turning Water into Earth: the observing of the growth of Pebbles in Waters: the making exact Experiments in the large Florentine Loadstone: the consideration of the Bononian Stone: the examining of the nature of Petrifying Springs: the using an Umbrella Anchor, to stay a Ship in a storm: the way of finding the Longitude of places by the Moon: the observation of the Tides about Lundy, the South-west of Ireland, the Bermoodas, and divers parts of Scotland; and in other Seas and Rivers where the ebbing and flowing is found to be irregular.  
They have started, and begun to practise the propagation of Potatoes; the planting of Verjuice Grapes in England; the Chemical examination of French, and English Wines; the gradual observation of the growth of Plants, from the first spot of life; the increasing of Timber, and the planting of Fruit Trees; which they have done by spreading the Plants into many parts of the Nation, and by publishing a large Account of the best ways of their cultivavation.  
They have propounded, and attempted with great effect, the making Experiments with Tobacco oil; the Anatomising of all amphibious Creatures, and examining their Lungs; the observing the manner of the Circulation of the blood in Fishes; the ways of transporting Fish from one place to another for Breed; the collecting Observations on the Plague; the examining of all the several ways to breed Bees; the altering the taste of the Flesh of Animals, by altering their food; the probability of making Wine out of Sugarcanes: Which last I will set down as one Example.    

A PROPOSAL For making WINE. By Dr. GODDARD.  
IT is recommended to the care of some skilful Planters in the Barbadoss, to try whether good Wine may not be made out of the juice of Sugarcanes. That which may induce them, to believe this work to be possible, is this Observation, that the juice of Wine, when it is dried, does always granulate into Sugar, as appears in Raisins, or dried Grapes: and also that in those vessels wherein cute, or unfermented Wine is put, the sides are wont to be covered over with a crust of Sugar. Hence it may be gathered, that there is so great a likeness of the liquor of the Cane, to that of the Vine, that it may probably be brought to serve for the same uses. If this attempt shall succeed, the advantages of it will be very considerable. For the English being the chief Masters of the Sugar Trade, and that falling very much in its price of late years, while all other outlandish productions are risen in their value: it would be a great benefit to this Kingdom, as well as to our Western Plantations, if part of our Sugar, which is now in a manner a mere Drug, might be turned into Wine, which is a Foreign Commodity, and grows every day dearer: especially seeing this might be done, by only bruising, and pressing the Canes, which would be a far less labour and charge, than the way, by which Sugar is now made.  
These are some of the most advantageous proposals, they have scattered, and encouraged in all places, where their Interest prevails. In these they have recommended to many distinct, and separate Trials, those designs, which some private men had begun, but could not accomplish, by reason of their charge: or those which they themselves have devised, and conceived capable of success: or even those of which men have hitherto seemed to despair. Of these, some are already brought to a hopeful issue: some are put in use, and thrive by the practice of the public: and some are discovered to be feasible, which were only before thought imaginary, and fantastical. This is one of the greatest powers of the true, and unwearied Experimenter, that he often rescues things, from the jaws of those dreadful Monsters, Improbability, and Impossibility. These indeed are two frightful words to weaker minds, but by Diligent and Wisemen, they are generally found to be only the excuses of Idleness, and Ignorance. For the most part they lie not in the things themselves, but in men's false opinions concerning them they are raised by opinions, but are soon abolished by works. Many things, that were at first improbable to the minds of men, are not so to their eyes: many that seemed unpracticable to their thoughts, are quite otherwise to their hands: many that are too difficult for their naked hands, may be soon performed by the same hands, if they are strengthened by Instruments, and guided by Method: many that are unmanageable by a few hands, and a few Instruments, are easy to the joint force of a multitude: many that fail in one Age, may succeed by the renewed endeavours of another. It is not therefore the conceit or fancy of men alone, that is of sufficient authority to condemn the most unlikely things for Impossible: unless they have been often attempted in vain, by many Eyes, many Hands, many Instruments, and many Ages.  
This is the assistance, 
§ XXXII. The Relations of things of Nature and Art, they have received.  and information, they have given to others, to provoke them to inquire, and to order, and regulate their Inquisitions. To these I will add the Relations of the effects of Nature, and Art, which have been communicated to them. These are infinite in number. And though many of them have not a sufficient confirmation, to raise Theories, or Histories on their Infallibility: yet they bring with them a good assurance of likelihood, by the integrity of the Relators; and withal they furnish a judicious Reader, with admirable hints to direct his Observations. For I will once more affirm, that as the minds of men do often mistake falsehoods for Truths, though they are never so circumspect: so they are often drawn by uncertain, and sometimes erroneous reports, to stumble on truths, and realities; of this vast heap of Relations, which is every where scattered in their Entry Books, I will only take notice of these occasional Accounts.  
Relations of two new kinds of Stars, observed in the year sixty six, the one in Andromeda, the other in Cygnus, in the same place, where they appeared sixty years since, and have ever since disappeared: of several Observations of Celestial Bodies made in Spain: of Observations of several of the Planets made at Rome, and in other parts, by extraordinary Glasses: of the comparative goodness of Glasses used in other Countries: of several Eclipses observed in divers parts of the World.  
Relations of Parelii, and other such appearances seen in France: of the effects of Thunder and Lightning: of Hurricanes, and Spouts: of the bigness, figure, and effects of Hailstones: of Fish, and Frogs said to be reigned: of the raining of Dust out of the Air, and of the distance it has been carried by great Fires, and Earthquakes: of changes of Wether, and a way of predicting them: of the vermination of the Air: of the supposed raining of Wheat in Glocestershire, which being sown was found to be nothing but Ivy-Berries.  
Relations of a Spring in Lancashire, that will presently catch fire on the approach of a Flame: of Burning-glasses performing extraordinary effects: of Burning glasses made with Ice: of Fire-balls for Fuel: of a more convenient way of using Wax-candles: of the kindling of certain Stones, by their being moistened with Water: of using ordinary Fuel to the best advantage.  
Relations of the times of the rising, and disappearing of Springs: of Artificial Springs: of the Natures of several of our English Springs, and of other Oleaginous, and Bituminous Springs: of the fitness, and unfitness of some waters for the making of Beer, or Ale: of brewing Beer with Ginger instead of Hops: of Tides and Currents: of Petrifying Springs: of the Water blasts of Tivoly: of Floating Islands of Ice: of the shining of Dew in a Common of Lancashire, and elsewhere: of Divers, and Diving, their habit, their long holding their breath, and of other notable things observed by them.  
Relations of the Effects of Earthquakes, and the moving, and sinking of Earth's: of deep Mines, and deep Wells: of the several layers of Earth in a Well at Amsterdam: of the shining Cliffs in Scotland: of the layers of Earth observed in divers Cliffs: of Screw-Stones, Lignum Fossile, Blocks buried in Exeter River, Trees found under ground in Cheshire, Lincolnshire, and elsewhere: of a Coal-Mine wrought half a mile from the shore, under the Sea: of the fatal effects of damps on Miners, and the ways of recovering them.  
Relations of the extraordinary strength of some small Lodestones, taking up above 150. times their own weight: of several English Lodestones: of the variation of the Loadstone observed in two East-India voyages, and other places: of the growing of Pebbles enclosed in a glass of water: of several excellent English clays: of Gold found in little lumps in a Mine in England: of the moving sands in Norfolk.  
Relations about refining Lead, and Tin-Oar: of hardening Steel so as to cut Porphyry with it, and softening it so much, as to make it easy to be wrought on: of impregnating Lead-Oar with Metal, after it has been once freed: of Petrified Teeth, and a Petrified humane foetus: of several ways of splitting Rocks: of living Muscles found in the midst of Rocks at Legorn: of the way of making Quicksilver: of things observable at the bottom of the Sea: of a soft Metal, which hardens after it has taken off the Impression, and the way of reducing such impressions into as small a proportion as is desired.  
Relations about Agriculture: of ordering of Vines: of the setting and planting of Trees several ways: of Elms growing from chips, of new Trees sprung from rotten roots: of several kinds of Trees, growing one out of another; and in the place of others: of the best ways of pruning: of making a kind of Silk with Virginia Grass: of a kind of Grass making stronger Ropes than the common Hemp: of a new way of ordering Mulberry Trees in Virginia: of a Locust Tree Bow standing bend six months, without losing its Spring: of a way of improving the planting of Tobacco.  
Relations of the usefulness of changing seed yearly: of the steeping, liming, sowing it several ways: of freeing it from Worms: preserving it long (as eighty years) of freeing it from smut; of the causes, and first signs of smut: of the Instrument and way of chopping Straw, for the feeding of Horses: of Plants growing in mere Water: of others growing in mere Air: of several Indian Woods: of the growing of the divided parts of Beans: of the growing of chopped stalks of Potatoes: of ordering Melons: of keeping their Seed, and producing extraordinary good ones without transplanting.  
Relations of the growth, breeding, feeding, and ordering of Oysters: of a Sturgeon kept alive in Saint jameses-park: of the movable Teeth of Pikes: of young Eels cut alive out of the old ones Belly: of the transporting Fish-spawn▪ and Carp alive from one place to another: of the strange increase of Carp so transported: of Snakestones and other Antidotes: of Frogs, Frogspawn, Toads, Newts, Vipers, Snakes, Rattle-Snakes.  
Relations of several kinds of Poisons, as that of Maccasser, and Florence: of Crawfish: of the Generation, growth, life, and transformation of Ants: of Cheese worms leaping like Fleas: of living Worms found in the Entrails of Fishes: of Infects found in the sheathing of Ships: of the generation of Infects, out of dead Cantharideses: of Infects bred in men's Teeth, Gums, Flesh, Skin: of great quantities of Flies living in Winter, though frozen: of the ways of ordering Silkworms in France, Italy, Virginia: and of their not being hurt in Virginia by Thunder.  
Relations of Swallows living after they have been frozen under water: of Barnacles and Soland Geese: of a new way of hatching Pigeon: of the way of hatching Chickens in Egypt: of Eggs proving fruitful, after they had been frozen: of recovering a tired Horse with Sheep's blood.  
Relations of several Monsters with their Anatomies: of the measure of a Giant-child: of Stones found in several parts of the Body: of an unusual way of cutting the Stone out of the Bladder: of a Woman's voiding the Bones of a Child out of her side eighteen years after her having been with child: of grafting Teeth, and making the Teeth of one Man grow in the mouth of another.  
Relations of several Chirurgical operations: of renewing the beating of the heart, by blowing into the Receptaculum chyli: of the Art of perfectly restoring Nerves, transversly cut, practised in France: of a Mummy found in the Ruins of Saint Paul's▪ after it had lain buried above 200. years: of breaking the Nerve to the Diaphragm, and of its effects: of cutting a Stetoma out of a Woman's Breast: of making the blood Florid with Volatile, and Coagulating with Acid Salts.  
Relations of sympathetick Cures, and Trials: of the effects of Tobacco-oyl for casting into Convulsion fits: of Moor's killing themselves by holding their Breathes: of walking on the Water by the help of a Girdle filled with Wind: of Pendulum Clocks: of several rare Guns, and Experiments with them: of new Quadrants and Astronomical Instruments: of Experiments of refraction made by the French Academy: of a way to make use of Eggs in painting, instead of Oil: of the Island Hirta in Scotland: of the Whispering place at Gloucester: of the Pike of Tenariff.   

A RELATION OF THE PICO TENERIFFE. Received from some considerable Merchants and Men worthy of Credit, who went to the top of it.  
HAving furnished ourselves with a Guide, Servants, and Horses to carry our Wine and Provisions, we set out from Oratava, a Port Town in the Island of Tenariffe, situated on the North of it at two miles distant from the main Sea. We traveled from twelve at night till eight in the morning, by which time we got to the top of the first Mountain towards the Pico de Terraira; here, under a very great and conspicuous Pine tree, we broke our fast, dined and refreshed ourselves, till two in the afternoon; then we proceeded through much Sandy way, over many lofty Mountains, but naked and bare, and not covered with any Pine trees, as our first night's passage was: this exposed us to excessive heat, till we arrived at the foot of the Pico; where we found many huge Stones, which seemed to have been fallen down from some upper part.  
About six a clock this evening, we began to ascend up the Pico, but being now a mile advanced, and the way no more passable for our Horses, we quitted and left them with our Servants: In this mile's ascent some of our company grew very faint and sick, disordered by fluxes, vomitings, and Aguish distempers, our Horse's hair standing up right like Bristles: but calling for some of our Wine, which was carried in small Barrels on a Horse, we found it so wonderfully cold, that we could not drink it till we had kindled a fire to warm it, although yet the temper of the Air was very calm and moderate. But when the Sun was set, it began to blow with that violence, and grew so cold, that taking up our lodging under certain great Stones in the Rocks, we were constrained to keep great fires before the mouths of them all night.  
About four in the morning we began to mount again, and being come about a mile up, one of the Company failed, and was able to proceed no further. Here began the black Rocks. The rest of us pursued our Journey till we came to the Sugar-loaf, where we begin to travel again in a white sand, being fore-shod with shoes whose single soles are made a finger broader than the upper leather, to encounter this difficult and unstable passage; being ascended as far as the black Rocks, which are all flat, & lie like a pavement, we climbed within a mile of the very top of the Pico, and at last we gained the Summit, where we found no such smoke as appeared a little below, but a continual breathing of a hot and sulphurous Vapour, which made our faces extremely sore.  
In this passage we found no considerable alteration of Air, and very little Wind; but being at the top, it was so impetuous, that we had much ado to stand against it, whilst we drank the King's health, and fired each of us a piece. Here we also broke fast, but found our Strong-water had quite lost its force, and was become almost insipid, whilst our Wine was rather more spirituous and brisk than it was before.  
The top on which we stood, being not above a yard broad, is the brink of a Pit called the Caldera, which we judged to be about a Musquet-shot over, and near fourscore yards deep, in shape like a Cone, within hollow like a Kettle or Cauldron, and all over covered with small loose Stones mixed with Sulphur and Sand, from amongst which issue divers Spiracles of smoke and heat, when stirred with any thing puffs and makes a noise, and so offensive, that we were almost stifled with the sudden Emanation of Vapours upon the removing of one of these Stones, which are so hot as they are not easily to be handled. We descended not above four or five yards into the Caldera, in regard of its fliding from our feet and the difficulty. But some have adventured to the bottom. Other observable materials we discovered none, besides a clear sort of Sulphur, which looks like Salt upon the Stones.  
From this famous Pico, we could ken the Grand Canaria, fourteen leagues distant, Palma eighteen, and Gomera seven leagues, which interval of Sea seemed to us not much larger than the River of Thames about London: We discerned also the Herro, being distant above twenty leagues, and so to the outmost limits of the Sea much farther.  
So soon as the Sun appeared, the shadow of the Pico seemed to cover, not only the whole Island, and the Grand Canaries, but the Sea to the very Horizon, where the top of the Sugar-loaf or Pico visibly appeared to turn up and cast its shade into the Air itself, at which we were much surprised: But the Sun was not far ascended, when the Clouds began to rise so fast, as intercepted our prospect both of the Sea, and the whole Island, excepting only the tops of the subjacent Mountains, which seemed to pierce them through: Whether these Clouds do ever surmount the Pico we cannot say, but to such as are far beneath, they sometimes seem to hang above it, or rather wrap themselves about it, as constantly when the Northwest Wind blows; this they call the Cap, and is a certain prognostic of ensuing Storms.  
One of our company, who made this journey again two years after, arriving at the top of the Pico before day, and creeping under a great Stone to shroud himself from the cold Air (after a little space) found himself all wet, and perceived it to come from a perpetual trickling of water from the Rocks above him. Many excellent and very exuberant Springs we found issuing from the tops of most of the other Mountains, gushing out in great Spouts, almost as far as the huge Pine tree which we mentioned.  
Having stayed some time upon the top, we all descended by the Sandy way till we came to the foot of the Sugar-loaf, which being steep, even to almost a perpendicular, we soon passed. And here we met a Cave of about ten yards deep, and fifteen broad, being in shape like an Oven or Cupola, having a hole at the top which is near eight yards over; by this we descended by a Rope, which our Servants held at the top, whilst the other end being fastened about our middles, we swing ourselves, till being over a Bank of Snow, we slide down and light upon it. We were forced to swing thus in the descent, because in the middle of the bottom of this Cave, opposite to the overture at the top, is a round Pit of water, resembling a Well, the surface whereof is about a yard lower than the Snow, but as wide as the mouth at top, and is about six fathom deep. We suppose this Water not a Spring, but dissolved Snow blown in, or Water trickling through the Rocks.  
About the sides of the Grot, for some height, there is Ice and Icicles hanging down to the Snow. But being quickly weary of this excessive cold place, and drawn up again, we continued our descent from the Mountains by the same passages we went up the day before, and so about five in the evening arrived at Oratava, from whence we set forth, our Faces so red and sore, that to cool them, we were forced to wash and bathe them in Whites of Eggs, etc.  
The whole height of the Pico in perpendicular is vulgarly esteemed to be two miles and a half. No Trees, Herbs, or Shrubs in all the passage but Pines, and amongst the whiter Sands a kind of Broom, being a bushy Plant; and at the side where we lay all night, a kind of Cordon, which hath Stems of eight foot high, the Trunk near half a foot thick; every Stem growing in four squares, and emerging from the ground like Tuffets of Rushes; upon the edges of these Stems grow very small red Buttons or Berries, which being squeezed produced a poisonous Milk, which lighting upon any part of a Horse, or other Beast, fetches off the hair from the skin immediately; of the dead part of this we made our fires all night. This Plant is also universally spread over the Island, and is perhaps a kind of Euphorbium.  
Of the Island Tenariffe itself, this account was given by a Judicious and Inquisitive Man, who lived twenty years in it as a Physician and Merchant. His opinion is, that the whole Island being a ground mightily impregnated with Brimstone, did in former times take fire, and blow up all or near upon all at the same time, and that many Mountains of huge Stones calcined and burnt, which appear every where about the Island, especially in the South-west parts of it, were raised and heaved up out of the Bowels of the Earth, at the time of that general conflagration; and that the greatest quantity of this Sulphur lying about the Centre of the Island, raised up the Pico to that height at which it is now seen. And he says, that any one upon the place that shall carefully note the situation, and manner of these calcined Rocks how they lie, will easily be of that mind: For he says, that they lie for three or four miles almost round the bottom of the Pico, and in such order one above another almost to the very Sugar-loaf (as 'tis called) as if the whole ground swelling and rising up together by the Ascension of the Brimstone, the Torrents and Rivers of it did with a sudden Eruption roll and tumble them down from the rest of the Rocks, especially (as was said before) to the South-west; For on that side, from the very top of the Pico almost to the Sea shore, lie huge heaps of these burnt Rocks one under another. And there remain to this time the very Tracts of the Rivers of Brimstone, as they ran over all this quarter of the Island, which hath so wasted the ground beyond recovery, that nothing can be made to grow there but Broom: But on the North side of the Pico, few or none of these Stones appear. And he concluded hence, that the Volcanio discharged itself chiefly to the South-west. He adds further, that Mines of several Metals were broken and blown up at the same time. These calcined Rocks resembling some of them Iron-Ore, some Silver, and others Copper, Particularly at a certain place in these South-west parts called the Azuleios, being very high Mountains, where never any English man but himself (that ever he heard of) was. There are vast quantities of a loose bluish Earth intermixed with blue Stones, which have on them yellow rust as that of Copper and Vitriol: And likewise many little Springs of Vitriolate waters, where he supposes was a Copper Mine. And he was told by a Bell-founder of Oratava, that out of two Horse loads of this Earth, he got as much Gold as made two large Rings. And a Portuguez told him, who had been in the West-Indies, that his opinion was, there were as good Mines of Gold and Silver there as the best in the Indies. There are likewise hereabout Nitrous Waters and Stones covered with a deep Saffron coloured rust, and tasting of Iron. And further he mentions a Friend of his, who out of two lumps of Earth or Ore, brought from the top of this side the Mountain, made two Silver-spoons. All this he confirms from the late instance of the Palm Island eighteen leagues from Tenariffa, where a Volcanio was fired about twelve years since, the violence whereof made an Earthquake in this Island so great, that he and others ran out of their houses, fearing they would have fallen upon their heads. They heard the noise of the Torrents of flaming Brimstone like Thunder, and saw the fire as plain by night, for about six weeks together, as a Candle in the room: And so much of the Sand and Ashes, brought from thence by the Wind with Clouds, fell on his Hat, as filled a Sand box for his Inkhorn.  
In some part of this Island there grows a crooked Shrub which they call Legnan, which they bring for England as a sweet Wood: There are likewise Apricots, Peaches, etc. in Standard, which bear twice a year, Pear-trees also which are as pregnant: Almonds of a tender shell; Palms, Plantains, Oranges and Lemons, especially the Pregnadas which have small ones in their bellies, from whence they are so denominated. Also they have Sugar Canes, and a little Cotton. Colloquintida, etc. The Roses blow at Christmas. There are good Carnations, and very large; but Tulips will not grow or thrive there: Sampire clothes the Rocks in abundance, and a kind of Clover the Ground. Another Grass growing near the Sea, which is of a broader leaf, so luscious and rank, as it will kill a Horse that eats of it, but no other Cattle. Eighty ears of Wheat have been found to spring from one root, but it grows not very high. The Corn of this is transparent and bright like to the purest yellow Amber, and one bushel hath produced one hundred and thirty in a seasonable year.  
The Canary birds (which they bring to us in England) breed in the Barancos or Gills, which the Water hath fretted away in the Mountains, being places very cold. There are also Quails, Partridges, larger than ours and exceeding beautiful, great Wood-pigeons, Turtles at Spring, Crows, and sometimes from the Coast of Barbary appears the Falcon. Bees are carried into the Mountains, where they prosper exceedingly.  
They have wild Goats on the Mountains, which climb to the very top of the Pico sometimes: Also Hogs and multitudes of Coneys.  
Of Fish they have the Cherna, a very large and excellent fish, better tasted than any we have in England; the Mero, Dolphin, Shark, Lobsters without the great claws, Mussles, Periwinkles, & the Clacas, which is absolutely the very best Shellfish in the world, they grow in the Rocks five or six under one great shell, through the top holes whereof they peep out with their Nebs, from whence (the shells being broken a little more open with a stone) they draw them forth. There is likewise another Fish like an Eel, which hath six or seven tails of a span in length united to one head and body, which is also as short. Besides these, they have Turtles and Cabridos which are better than our Trout.  
The Island is full of Springs of pure Water tasting like Milk. And in Lalaguna (where the Water is not altogether so Limpid and Clear) they percolate it through a kind of spongy Stone cut in form of a Basin.  
The Vines which afford those excellent Wines, grow all about the Island within a mile of the Sea, such as are planted farther up are nothing esteemed, neither will they thrive in any of the other Islands, for the Guanchios' or ancient Inhabitants he gives this full Account.  
September the third, about twelve years since, he took his Journey from Guimar (a Town inhabited for the most part by such as derive themselves from the old Cuanchios') in the company of some of them, to view their Caves and the Bodies buried in them. This was a favour they seldom or never permit to any (having in great veneration the Bodies of their Ancestors, and likewise being most extremely against any molestation of the Dead) but he had done several Eleemosinary Cures amongst them (for they are generally very poor, yet the poorest thinks himself too good to marry with the best Spaniard) which endeared him to them exceedingly, otherways it is death for any Stranger to visit these Caves or Bodies.  
These Bodies are sowed up in Goatskins with thongs of the same, with very great curiosity, particularly in the incomparable exactness and evenness of the seams, and the Skins are made very close and fit to the body: Most of these Bodies are entire, the eyes closed, hair on the head, ears, nose, teeth, lips, beard, all perfect, only discoloured and a little shriveld, likewise the Pudenda of both Sexes; He saw about three or four hundred in several Caves, some of them are standing, others lie on beds of Wood, so hardened by an art they had (which the Spaniards call Curar, to cure a piece of wood) as no Iron can pierce or hurt it He says, that one day being hunting a Ferret (which is much in use there) having a bell about his neck, ran after a Coney into a hole, where they lost the sound of the bell; the owner being afraid he should lose his Ferret, seeking about the Rock and Shrubs, found the mouth of a Cave, and entering in, was so affrighted, that he cried out. It was at the sight of one of these Bodies, very tall and large, lying with his head on a great Stone, his feet supported with a little wall of stone, the body resting on a bed of Wood (as before was mentioned.) The fellow being now a little out of his fright entered it, and cut off a great piece of the skin that lay on the breast of this body, which, the Doctor says, was more flexible and pliant than ever he felt any Kids-leather-glove, and yet so far from being rotten, that the man used it for his Flail many years after.  
These bodies are very light, as if made up of straw, and in some broken Limbs he observed the Nerves and Tendons, and also some strings of the Veins and Arteries very distinctly.  
His great care was to inquire of these people what they had amongst them of Tradition concerning the embalming and preservation of these Bodies: from some of the eldest of them (above a hundred and ten years of age) he received this Account, That they had of old one particular Tribe of men that had this Art amongst themselves only, and kept it as a thing sacred, and not to be communicated to the Vulgar: These mixed not with the rest of the Inhabitants, nor married out of their own Tribe, and were also their Priests and Ministers of Religion: That upon the Conquest of the Spaniards they were most of them destroyed, and the Art lost with them, only they held some Traditions yet of a few Ingredients, that were made use of in this business. They took Butter of Goat's Milk (some said Hog's Grease was mingled with it) which they kept in the Skins for this purpose, in this they boiled certain Herbs; first a sort of wild Lavender, which grows there in great quantities on the Rocks: Secondly, an Herb called Lara, of a very gummy and glutinous Consistence, which now grows there under the tops of the Mountains only: Thirdly, a kind of Cyclamen or Showbread: Fourthly, wild Sage, growing plentifully in this Island: These with others bruised and boiled in the Butter, rendered it a perfect Balsam. This prepared, they first unboweled the Corpse (and in the poorer sort, to save charges, they took out the Brain behind, and these poor were also sewed up in Skins with the hair on, whereas the richer sort were (as was said before) put up in Skins so finely and exactly dressed, as they remain most rarely pliant and gentle to this day.) After the Body was thus ordered, they had in readiness a Lixivium made of the Bark of Pine trees, with which they washed the Body, drying it in the Sun in Summer, and in Stoves in Winter, this repeating very often. Afterward they began their Unction with the Balsam, both without and within, drying it again as before. This they continued till the Balsam had penetrated into the whole habit, and the Muscles in all parts appeared through the contracted Skin, and the Body became exceeding light: Then they sewed them up in the Goatskins, as was mentioned already. He was told by these Ancient People, that they have above twenty Caves of their Kings and great Persons, with their whole Families, yet unknown to any but themselves, and which they will never discover. Lastly, he says, that Bodies are found in the Caves of the Grand Canaria in sacks, and quite consumed, not as these in Teneriffa. Thus far of the Bodies and embalming.  
Anciently when they had no knowledge of Iron, they made their Lances of Wood hardened as before, some of which the Doctor hath seen. He hath also seen Earthen-pots so hard, that they cannot be broken; of these some are found in the Caves and old Bavances, and used by the poorer people that find them to boil meat in. Likewise they did Curor Stone itself, that is to say, a kind of Slate called now Tobona, which they first form to an edge or point as they had occasion to use it, either as Knives or Lancets to let blood withal.  
Their Food is Barley roasted, and then ground with little Mills, which they made of Stone, and mixed with Milk and Honey: This they still feed on, and carry it on their backs in Goatskins.  
To this day they drink no Wine, nor care for Flesh. They are generally very lean, tall, active and full of courage.  
He himself hath seen them leap from Rock to Rock, from a very prodigious height, till they came to the bottom, sometimes making ten fathom deep at one leap.  
" The manner is thus:  
First they Tertiate their Lance (which is about the bigness of a half Pike) that is, they poise it in their hand, than they aim the point of it at any piece of a Rock, upon which they intent to light (sometimes not half a foot broad.) At their going off they clap their feet close to the Lance, and so carry their bodies in the Air. The point of the Lance first comes to the place, which breaks the force of their fall; then they slide gently down by the Staff, and pitch with their feet upon the very place they first designed, and from Rock to Rock till they come to the bottom. Their Novices sometimes break their necks in learning.  
He added several Stories to this effect of their great activity in leaping down Rocks and Cliffs. And how twenty eight of them made an escape from the battlements of an extraordinary high Castle in the Island, when the Governor thought he had made sure of them.  
He told also (and the same was seriously confirmed by a Spaniard, and another Canary Merchant then in the company) That they whistle so loud as to be heard five miles off. And that to be in the same Room with them when they whistle, were enough to endanger breaking the Tympanum of the ear, and added, that he (being in Company of one that whistled his loudest) could not hear perfectly for fifteen days after, the noise was so great.  
He affirms also, That they throw Stones with a force almost as great as that of a Bullet, and now use Stones in all their fights as they did anciently.  
When my Reader shall behold this large number of Relations; perhaps he will think, that too many of them seem to be incredulous stories, and that if the Royal Society shall much busy themselves, about such wonderful, and uncertain events, they will fall into that mistake, of which I have already accused some of the Ancients, of framing Romances, instead of solid Histories of Nature. But here, though I shall first confirm what I said before, that it is an unprofitable, and unsound way of Natural Philosophy, to regard nothing else, but the prodigious, and extraordinary causes, and effects: yet I will also add, that it is not an unfit employment for the most judicious Experimenter to examine, and record the most unusual and monstrous forces, and motions of matter: It is certain that many things, which now seem miraculous, would not be so, if once we come to be fully acquainted with their compositions, and operations. And it is also as true, that there are many Qualities, and Figures, and powers of things, that break the common Laws, and transgress the standing Rules of Nature. It is not therefore an extravagance, to observe such productions, and are indeed admirable in themselves, if at the same time we do not strive to make those appear to be admirable, that are groundless, and false. In this there is a near resemblance between Natural and civil History. In the Civil, that way of Romance is to be exploded, which heightens all the characters, and actions of men, beyond all shadow of probability: yet this does not hinder, but the great, and eminent virtues of extraordinary men of all Ages, may be related, and proposed to our example. The same is to be affirmed of Natural History. To make that only to consist of strange, and delightful Tales, is to render it nothing else but vain, and ridiculous Knight-Errantry. Yet we may avoid that extreme, and still leave room, to consider the singular, and irregular effects, and to imitate the unexpected, and monstrous excesses, which Nature does sometimes practise in her works. The first may be only compared to the Fables of Amadis, and the Seven Champions: the other to the real Histories of Alexander, Hannibal, Scipio, or Caesar: in which though many of their Actions may at first surprise us; yet there is nothing that exceeds the Truth of Life, and that may not serve for our instruction, or imitation.  
If this way of general receiving all credible accounts of Natural, 
§ XXXIII. The Experiments they have tried,  and Artificial productions, shall seem exposed to overmuch hazard, and uncertainty: that danger is removed by the Royal Societies reducing such matters of here-say and information, into real, and impartial Trials, performed by their own hands: Of the exactness, variation, and accurate repetition of their Experiments, I have already discoursed: I will now go on to lay down in short compass those parts of the visible World, about which they have chiefly bestowed their pains.  
The first kind that I shall mention, 
Of Fire.  is of Experiments about Fire, and Flame, of these many were made in order to the examination of a Theory propounded to them, that there is no such thing, as an Elementary Fire of the Peripatetics; nor Fiery Atoms of the Epicureans: but that Fire is only the Act of the dissolution of heated Sulphureous Bodies, by the Air as a Menstruum, much after the same manner, as Aqua Fortis, or other sharp Menstruums do work on dissoluble Bodies, as Iron, Tin, Copper: that heat, and light are two inseparable effects of this dissolution, as heat, and ebullition are of those dissolutions of Tin, and Copper: that Flame is a dissolution of Smoke, which consists of combustible particles, carried upward by the heat of rarified Air: and that Ashes are a part of the Body not dissoluble by the Air.  
Of this sort, they have made Experiments, to find the lasting of the burning of a Candle, Lamp, or Coals, in a Cubic foot of common, rarified, and condensed Air: to exhibit the sudden extinction of Candles, Lamps, and lighted Coals, when they are put into satiated Air: to show the speedy extinction of kindled Charcoals, by blowing on them with bellows, that Air which had before been satiated with burning: to show that the greatest and most lasting heat, without a supply of fresh Air, is unable to burn Wood, Sulphur, and most other combustible matters: to find the comparative heat of all kinds of Fires, and Flames of several Materials, as of Sulphur, Camphire, Spirit of Wine, Oil, Wood, Coal, Seacole, Iron: to find at what degree of heat, Led, Tin, Silver, Brass, Copper, Gold will melt.  
Experiments of the Transparency, and Refractedness of Flames: of discerning the strength of several kinds of Gunpowder, Pulvis Fulminans, Aurum Fulminans: of Gunpowder in the exhausting Engine: of bending Springs by the help of Gunpowder: of melting Copper immediately, by the help of a Flux-powder: of the Recoiling of Guns.  
Experiments of Candles, and Coals, extinguished by the damps of a deep Well: of the burning of Lamps under water: of burning Spirit of Wine, and Camphire together, and the diversity of their Flames: of reducing Copper to a very combustible substance: of heating the Air, by blowing it through a red-hot earthen Pipe, so as to burn Wood: of the brightness of the Flame of Niter, and Sulphur: of the burning and flaming of Tin-filings by the help of Niter: of kindling Bodies, in common, rarified, and condensed Air, by the help of a Burning-glass: of the comparative heat cast by a Burning-glass, in the morning, and at noon: of burning with a Lens made of Ice: of calcining Antimony in the Sun with loss: to find whether Aurum Fulminans or Putris Fulminans do flame upon Explosion: of hatching Eggs with a Lamp Furnace.  
Their second sort of Experiments is of those that have been made in order to find out the nature, 
Of Air▪  properties, and uses of Air. Such as these.  
Experiments for determining the height of the Atmosphere, for finding the pressure of the Atmosphere: on the tops of Mountains, on the surface of the earth, and at the bottoms of very deep Pits, and Mines, by the help of Quicksilver, and other contrivances: for finding the pressure of the Atmosphere, both in the same place, and places very far removed.  
Experiments to determine the possible bounds of expansion, and condensation of the Air, by heat and cold, by exhausting and compressing: to determine the strength of Air under the several degrees of rarefaction, and condensation: of the force of condensed Air in Wind-Guns: to state the comparative gravity of the Air to other fluid, and solid Bodies: to discover the refractive power of the Air, under the several Degrees of rarefaction, and condensation: to manifest the inflective veins of the Air: to produce a kind of opacity of the Air: of the falling of Smoke in rarified Air: to make small Glass-bubbles swim in Air very much condensed: of Glass-balls rising in a heavy, or condensed Air, and falling in a lighter and more rarified.  
Experiments of the Propagation of Sounds through common, rarified, and condensed Air: of the congruity, or incongruity of Air, and its capacity to penetrate some Bodies, and not others: of generating Air by corrosive Menstruums out of fermenting Liquors, out of Water, and other Liquors, by heat, and by exhaustion: of the returning of such Air into the Water again: of the vanishing of Air into Water exhausted of Air: of the maintaining, and increasing a Fire by such Airs: of the fitness, and unfitness of such Air for respiration: of the use of Air in breathing.  
Experiments of keeping Creatures many hours alive, by blowing into the Lungs with Bellows, after that all the Thorax, and Abdomen were opened and cut away, and all the Entrails save Heart, and Lungs removed: of reviving Chickens, after they have been strangled, by blowing into their Lungs: to try how long a man can live, by expiring, and inspiring again the same Air: to try whether the Air so respired, might not by several means be purified, or renewed: to prove that it is not the heat, nor the cold of this respired Air, that chokes.  
Experiments of the respiring of Animals, in Air much rarified, and the fatal effects: of the long continuance of several Animals very well in Air, as much condensed, as it will be under water, at two hundred fathoms deep, that is about eight times: of the quantity of fresh Air requisite for the life of a respiring Animal, for a certain space of time: of making Air unfit for respiration, by satiating it, by suffering Candles, or Coals to burn in it, till they extinguish themselves.  
Experiments of including living Animals, and kindled Coals, and Candles, in a large Glass, to observe which of them will be first extinguished: of a man's living half an hour, without any inconvenience, in a Leaden Bell, at divers fathoms under water: of the Quantity of Air respired at once by a Man: of the strength a Man has to raise Weights by his breath.  
Experiments of the swelling of an Arm put into the rarifying Engine, by taking off the pressure of the Ambient Air: of the swelling of Vipers, and Frogs, upon taking off the pressure of the Ambient Air: of the life, and free motion of Fishes in Water, under the pressure of Air eight times condensed: of Infects not being able to move in exhausted Air: of the resistance of Air to bodies moved through it: of the not growing of Seeds for want of Air: of the growing of Plants hung in the Air, and of the decrease of their weight: of the living of a Chameleon, Snakes, Toads, and divers Infects, in a free Air, without food: of conveying Air under Water to any depth: of condensing Air by Water, and by the expansion of freezing Water: of the swelling of Lungs in the rarifying Engine: of the velocity, and strength of several Winds.  
The third kind are those, 
Of Water.  which have been made, about the substance, and properties of Water: Such are,  
Experiments about the Comparative Gravity of Salt Water, and fresh, and of several Medicinal Springs found in this Nation: of the differing weight of the Sea-water, in several Climates, and at several Seasons: of the weight of Distill'd-water, Snow-water, May-dew, Rain-water, Spring-water: of augmenting the weight of Liquor, by dissolving Salts: of the greater thickness of such Water, at the bottom, than at the top: of weighing, ascending, and descending Bodies in Water: of the pressure of the Water at several depths under its surface.  
Experiments of the heat and cold of the Water, at several depths of the Sea: of propagating sounds through the Water: of sounding the depth of the Sea without a line: of fetching up Water from the Bottom of the Sea: of fetching up Earth, Sand, Plants, from the bottom of the Sea.  
Experiments of the resistance of Water to Bodies moved on its surface, of several Figures, and by several degrees of force: of the resistance of Water to Bodies moved through its substance ascending, and descending: of the expansion, and condensation of Water by heat and cold: of the condensation of Water by several ways of pressure: of converting Water into a vapourous Air, lasting sometimes in that form: the Torricellian Experiment tried with Water in a Glass-cane thirty six and forty foot high, in a leaden Tube, also with a Glass at the top: the same tried with Oil, and other Liquors.  
Experiments of the rising of Water in small Tubes, and many others about its congruity: of filtration, or of the rising of Water, to a great height in Sand, etc. of the swimming of Fishes: of Waters being able to penetrate through those Pores, where Air will not: of opening bellows at a depth under water, and blowing up Bladders, to find the pressure of the Water: of Water not subsiding in a high Glass-cane, upon removing the ambient pressure, after it had been well exhausted of the Air-bubbles that lurked in it: of forcing Water out of a Vessel by its own vapours.  
Experiments of the different weight, and refraction of warm Water, and cold: of the passing of Water through the coats of a Man's stomach: of the living of Fish in Water, the Air being exhausted: of closing up a Fish in a Glass of water: of the dying of Fishes in Water, upon taking off the pressure of the Air, in the rarifying Engine: of hydrostatics, and making a Body sink by pouring more water upon it: of raising Water above its Standard by sucking: of the subsiding of Water in the stem, upon putting the Bolt-head into warm water: of the shrinking of Water upon cooling.  
The fourth kind are about Mines, 
Of Metals and Stones.  Metals, Oars, Stones, etc. Such as,  
Experiments of Coppelling made at the Tower: of dissolving many Salts in one Liquor: of the Oculus Mundi: of Rusma: of the Tenacity of several Metals examined by weights: of the rarefaction and condensation of Glass: of the volatizing Salt of Tartar, with burnt Allom, with Vinegar, and Spirit of Wine: on the Bononian Stone: on Diamonds, of their shining by rubbing: on Copper-oar: of the distillation of Coal: of refining several kinds of Lead-oar: of extracting a much greater quantity of Silver out of that Oar, than is commonly done: of several ways of reducing Letharges into Lead: of changing Gold into Silver.  
Experiments Magnetical, of the best form of capping Lodestones: of the best forms of Needles, of several lengths and bignesses: of various ways of touching Needles on the Loadstone of making the same Pole of the Loadstone, both attract, and chase the same end of the Needle without touching it: to find the variation of the Loadstone here at London.  
Experiments with the dipping Needle: of the extraordinary strength in proportion to its bulk of a small Loadstone: to measure the strength of the Magnetical attractive power, at several distances from the Stone: to examine the force of the attractive power, through several Mediums, as Water, Air, Wood, Led, and Stone: to divert the attractive power, by interposing Iron: to find the directive virtue of the Loadstone under water.  
Experiments to manifest by the help of Steel-dust, the lines of the Directive virtue of the Loadstone to be oval, in a contrary Position to what Des Cartes Theory makes them: to manifest those lines of Direction by the help of Needles: to discover those lines of Direction, when the influence of many Lodestones is compounded: to find what those lines are encompassing a Spherical Loadstone, what about a Square, and what about a regular Figure: to bore through the Axis of a Loadstone: and fill it up with a Cylindrical Steel: Experiments on Lodestones having many Poles, and yet the Stones seeming uniform.  

Of Vegetables.  The fifth kind is of the growth of Vegetables in several kinds of Water; as Riverwater, Rain-water, Distill'd-water, May-dew: of hindering the growth of Seed Corn in the Earth, by extracting the Air: and furthering their growth, by admitting it: of steeping Seeds of several kinds: of inverting the Positions of Roots, and Plants set in the ground, to find whether there are values in the Pores of the Wood, that only open one way: of the decrease of the weight of Plants growing in Air: of Lignum Fossile: of the growing of some branches of Rosemary, by only sprinkling the leaves with water: of Camphire wood: of Wood brought from the Canaries: of a stinking Wood brought out of the East-Indies: of the reunion of the Bark of Trees after it had been separated from the Body.  
The sixth are Experiments Medicinal, 
Medicinal and Anatomical.  and Anatomical; as of cutting out the Spleen of a Dog: of the effects of Viper's biting Dogs: of a Camaeleon, and its dissection: of preserving Animals in Spirit of Wine, Oil of Turpentine, and other Liquors: of injecting various Liquors, and other Substances, into the veins of several creatures.  
Experiments of destroying Mites by several Fumes: of the equivocal Generation of Infects: of feeding a Carp in the Air: of making Infects with Cheese, and Sack: of kill Water-Newts, Toads, and Sloworms with several Salts: of kill Frogs, by touching their skin, with Vinegar, Pitch, or Mercury: of a Spiders not being enchanted by a Circle of unicorns horn, or Irish Earth, laid round about it.  
Experiments with a Poisoned Indian Dagger on several Animals: with the Maccasser Poison: with Florentine Poison, and several Antidotes against it: of making Flesh grow on, after it has been once cut off: of the grafting a Spur on the head of a Cock, and its growing: of the living of Creatures by Factitious Air: of the reviving of Animals strangled, by blowing into their Lungs: of Flesh not breeding Worms, when secured from Fly-blowings: of the suffocation of Animals upon piercing the Thorax: of hatching Silkworms Eggs in rarified Air: of transfusing the blood of one Animal into another.  

Of sensible Qualities.  The seventh sort are about those which are called sensible Qualities: as of freezing: of cold, and heat: of freezing Water freed from Air: of the time, and manner of the contraction in freezing lukewarm Water: of the temperature of several places, by sealed Thermometers; as of several Countries; of the bottoms of deep Mines, Wells, Vaults, on the tops of Hills, at the bottom of the Sea.  
Experiments of the contraction of Oil of Vitriol, and divers other Oils by freezing: of freezing bitter Tinctures: of freezing several tinging Liquors, and driving all the tincture inward to the Centre: of showing Ice to be capable of various degrees of cold, greater than is requisite to keep it Ice: of producing cold by the dissolution of several Salts: of freezing Water without blebs: of a membranous substance separable from the blood by freezing: of a Thermometer in rarified and condensed Air: of very easy freezing of Oil of Anniseeds: of making a Standard of Cold by freezing distill'd-water.  

Of other Qualities.  The eighth are of Rarity, Density, Gravity, Pressure, Levity, Fluidity, Firmness, Congruity &c., as of the Nature of Gravity: of the cohaesion of two Flat Marbles: of compressing the Air with Mercury to find its spring: of the weights of Bodies, solid and fluid: of rarefaction, and condensation by the help of Mercury: of the tenacity of several Bodies: of the turning of two very fluid Liquors into one solid mass, by mingling them together.  
Experiments for examining, whether the gravity of Bodies alter, according as they are carried a good way above, or below the surface of the Earth: of the standing of Mercury well exhausted, many inches, nay many feet, above its usual standing: of a Wheel-Baro-Meter: of the expansion, and contraction of Glass, and Metals by heat and cold: of Spirit of Wine, and several tinging Liquors by the help of a Glass Tube: the examination of Monsieur Paschals Experiment, by many others.  
The ninth are Experiments of Light, 
Of light, sound, etc.  Sound, Colours, Taste, Smell: as of two transparent Liquors producing an opacous one: of Echoes and reflected sounds: of Musical sounds, and Harmonies: of Colours, of the greater refraction of Water, than of Ice: of Refraction in a new Engine; of the Refraction of Glass of various shapes under Water: of destroying the shining of Fish by Oil of Vitriol: of making a great light by rubbing two Crystals hard one against the other: of making a deaf, and dumb man to speak.  
The tenth are Experiments of Motion: 
Of Motion.  as of Glass drops several ways ordered, and broken: of the velocity of the descent of several Bodies of divers fashions through several Liquors: of determining the velocity of Bodies falling through the Air; tried by many ways: of the swift motion of sounds: of the irregular motion of the Oil of Turpentine on Spirit of Wine; of the strength of falling Bodies, according to the several Heights, from which they fall: of proportioning the shapes of Bodies, so as to make them fall together in the same time through differing Mediums.  
Experiments of the swiftness of a Bullet shot with extraordinary Powder: of the best Figure of the weight of a Pendulum for Motion: of the Motion of Pendulous Bodies of various figures: to determine the length of Pendulums: to find the velocity of the vibrations of a sounding string: to find the velocity of motion, propagated by a very long extended Wire: for explaining the inflection of a straight motion into a circular, by a supervening attractive power towards the Centre, in order to the explaining of the motion of the Planets.  
Experiments of the circular and complicated motion of Pendulums, to explain the Hypothesis of the Moons moving about the Earth: of comparing the Motions of a circular Pendulum, with the motion of a straight one: of the propagation of motion from one Body to another: of the reflection of motion: of the vibrating motion of Quicksilver in a crooked Pipe: imitating the motion of a Pendulum: of communicating of the strength of Powder for the bending of Springs; and thereby for making artificial Muscles, to command what strength we desire.  

Chemical and Mechanical.  The eleventh are Experiments Chemical, Mechanical, Optical: as of reducing the Flesh of Animals into a Liquor like blood, by dissolving it in a certain Menstruum: of a greater facility of raising Water in Pipes of a larger Boar: of brewing Beer with Bread, Barley, Oats, Wheat, and without malting: of precipitating Tartar out of Wine by several expedients: of a Chemical extraction of a volatile Spirit, and Salt out of Sponges: of examining Aurum fulminans after explosion: of the dissolution of Manna in Water, and of a chrystallizing it again out of it, by evaporation.  
Experiments of volatizing Salt of Tartar many ways: of examining the mucilaginous matter called Star-shoot: of examining our English Telescopes, and Microscopes, and comparing them with such as have been made at Rome: of making a volatile Salt with Oil of Turpentine, and Sea-salt: of the Quantity of Spirits in Cider: of the strength of several Springs: of examining a Pump made with Bellows: of dying Silk with several jamaica Woods: of finding the strength of Wood of several kinds, for bearing: of finding the flexibility of various Woods, and determining the utmost extent of their yielding, and bending.  
Experiments about the gravity of Bodies made on the top of Saint Paul's Steeple, Westminster-Abby, and several other high places; and in a Well of seventy Fathoms depth: examined about the Virgula Divina, wherein the common Assertions were found false: of the various refractions of several Liquors, in a new refractive Engine: of common Oil of Tobacco, made by distillation in a Glass retort: of making the Object-glass of a Microscope, to bear as large an Aperture as is desired.  
Of this their way of Experimenting I will here produce these Examples.   

EXPERIMENTS Of the Weight of Bodies increased in the FIRE: Made at the Tower, and the Account brought in by my Lord BROUNCKER.  
1. Copper and Lead.  
 d. gr. THe Coppel weighed 10. 8.7/32 Led 4. 9 Copper 0. 6. Into the fire all three 14. 23 7/32 Out of the fire 15. 4 ●/32 Gained 0. 5 ●/32  
Besides what the Copel lost in weight, supposed to be about three grains.  
2. Copper and Lead.  
 d. gr. Coppel 10. 2 ¾ Led 4. 9 Copper 0. 6. Into the fire all three 14. 17 ¼ Out of the fire 15. 1 ●●/32 Gained 0. 7 ●●/32  
3. Led alone.  
 d. gr. Copel 10. 3 29/32 Led 4. 9 Into the fire both 14. 12 29/32 Out of the fire 14. 23 ●9/32 Gained 0. 10 ●●/32  
4. Led alone.  
 d. gr. Copel 10. 10 ⅞ Led 4. 9 Into the fire both 14. 19 ⅞ Out of the fire 15. 1 5/64 Gained 0. 5 ●●/64  
5. Copel alone.  
 d. gr. Into the fire 10. 5. Out of the fire 10. 1 ●/8 Lost 0. 3 ⅝  
6. Copel alone.  
 d.  gr. Into the fire 10. wanting 7 ¼ Out of the fire 10. wanting 9 Lost 0.  1 ¼   

EXPERIMENTS Of a Stone called OCULUS MUNDI Made by Dr. GODDARD.  
A Small Stone of the kind, called by some Author's Oculus Mundi, being dry and cloudy, weighed 
5 gr. 200/256  The same being put under Water, for a night and somewhat more, became transparent, and, the superficies being wiped dry, weighed 
6 gr. ●/256  The difference between these two weights 
0. 50/ 256  The same Stone kept out of Water one day and becoming cloudy again, weighed 
5. 225/256  which was more than the first weight 
0. 16/ 256  The same being kept dry two days longer, weighed 
5. 202/256  which was less than at first 
0.7/256  Being kept dry something longer, it did not grow sensibly lighter. 
 Being put under Water for a night, and becoming again transparent, and wiped dry, the weight was 
6. 3/256  the same with the first, after putting in Water, and more than the last weight, after keeping of it dry 
0. 57/ 256  Another Stone of the same kind, being variegated with milky, white and grey, like some sort of Agates, while it lay under Water, was always environed with little bubbles, such as appear in water before boiling, next the sides of the vessel. 
 There were also some of the like bubbles on the surface of the water just over it; as if either some Exhalations come out of it, or that it did excite some fermentation in the parts of the water contiguous to it. 
 There was little sensible difference of Transparency in this Stone, before the putting under Water, and after: To be sure the milky white parts continued as before, but more different in weight, than in the former. For whereas, before the putting into the water, the weight was- 18 gr. ●●/118 after it had lain in about twenty four hours the weight was 20 gr. 27/123; so the difference was 
1 gr 5●/1●8  The same Stone was infused in the water scalding hot, and so continued for a while after it was cold, but got no more weight, than upon infusing in the cold; neither was there any sensible difference in the weight both times. 
   

An Account of a Dog dissected. By Mr. HOOK.  
IN prosecution of some Inquiries into the Nature of Respiration in several Animals; A Dog was dissected, and by means of a pair of bellows, and a certain Pipe thrust into the Windpipe of the Creature, the heart continued beating for a very long while after all the Thorax and Belly had been opened, nay after the Diaphragme had been in great part cut away, and the Pericardium removed from the heart. And from several tyrals made, it seemed very probable, that this motion might have been continued, as long almost as there was any blood left within the vessels of the Dog: for the motion of the Heart seemed very little changed after above an hours times from the first displaying the Thorax; though we found, that upon removing the Bellows, the Lungs would presently grow flactid, and the Heart begin to have convulsive motions; but upon removing the motion of the Bellows, the Heart recovered its former motion, and the Convulsions ceased. Though I made a Ligature upon all the great Vesels that went into the lower parts of its Body, I could not find any alteration in the pulse of the Heart; the circulation, it seems, being performed some other way. I could not perceive any thing distinctly, whether the Air did unite and mix with the Blood; nor did in the least perceive the Heart to swell upon the extension of the Lungs: nor did the Lungs seem to swell upon the contraction of the Heart.  
  

EXPERIMENTS Of the Recoiling of GUNS By the Lord BROUNCKER.  
WHen I was commanded by this Society, 
Fig. 1.  to make some Experiments of the Recoiling of Guns: In order to the discovery of the cause thereof, I caused this Engine that lies here before you to be prepared, and with it (assisted by some of the most eminent of this Society) I had divers shots made in the Court of this College, near the length thereof from the mark, with a full charge (about a fourpenny weight) of Powder; But without any other success, then that there was nothing Regular in that way, which was by laying it upon a heavy table, unto which it was sometimes fastened with Screws at all the four places R, L, V, B, sometimes only at R or L, having wheels affixed at L and V or R and B, that it might the more easily recoil.  
This uncertainty I did then conceive might arise from one or more of these three causes, viz.  

1. The violent trembling motion of the Gun, whence the Bullet might casually receive some lateral impulse from the nose of the piece at the parting from it.  
2. The yielding of the Table which was sensible.  
3. The difficulty of aiming well by the Sight and Button so far from the Mark.   
Therefore to avoid all these, the Experiments I caused to be made before you in the Gallery of this College, you may be pleased to remember were performed, first, taking only eight grains of Powder for the charge. Secondly, laying the Engine upon the floor, and thirdly, aiming by a thread at M, a mark about an Inch and ¾ from the mouth of the Gun (the edge of a knife being put for the mark the better to discern the line that was shot in) and they thus succeeded.  
When the piece was fastened to the floor both at R and L, the Bullet than did so fully hit the mark, that it was divided by it into two parts, whose difference in weight was less than ten grains (about the thirty third part of the whole Bullet) although the lesser part was a little hollow, and that from which the neck of Lead was a little too close pared off: But when hindered from Recoiling only at R, the Bullet missed the mark towards L or A, for the whole Bullet, less than two grains excepted, went on that side: And in like manner when hindered from Recoiling at L, the Bullet missed the mark towards R or B, the whole Bullet, less than two grains excepted, passing the knife on that side thereof.  
I had the honour to make other Experiments with the same Engine, lately at White-Hall before his Majesty and his Highness Royal within the Tiltyard Gallery, where there is the hearth of a Chimney raised a little above the floor, about the distance of thirteen feet from the opposite wall, against which I caused a Plank to be placed, and the Engine to be laid first against the middle of the Hearth, that it might not recoil at all, and that part of the board to be marked against which 'twas leveled, known by a line stretched from the Breech of the Piece unto the Board, directly over the sight and button, and the fire being given (the charge being but eight grains of Powder as before) the Bullet did fully hit the mark. Secondly, the Piece (charged and leveled in the same manner) was laid at the end of the Hearth next the Park, so that very little of the corner R rested against it, and then the Bullet missed the mark about an inch and a quarter towards the Park or A. The like being done at the other end of the Hearth, the Bullet than missed the mark as much the other way; and afterwards with double that charge something more, as before I had found it less with a smaller charge.  
Since this (at first designing only to experiment the several distances that the bullet is carried wide of the mark with different charges of Powder) I made these Experiments following.  
In the first Column whereof you have the corner stopped from recoiling.  
In the second the grains of Powder with which the Piece was charged.  
In the third the distance the Bullet was shot wide from the mark in inches, tenths, and parts of tenths.  
In the fourth the side on which the Bullet was carried.  
In the last the distance of the mark from the muzzle of the Gun in feet.  
B 16 0. N 9 L 48 0.5 L 9 R 39 0. 3½ L 9 R 48 0.0 N 9 L 16 1. 7½ R 9 L 56 0.8 L 9 R 39 0.2 L 9 R 48 0.1 L 9 R 16 1.5 L 9 L 96 1. 2½ L 9 R 40 0.2 L 9 L 48 0. 0¼ R 9 R 12 1.5 L 9 L 96 1.5 L 9 R 40 0.0 N 9 L 4 16 R 9 L 12 1. 7½ R 9 L 40 0.5 L 9 R 40 0.2 L 9 L 4 1. 5½ R 9 L 8 1.6 R 9 R 96 0.9 R 9 R 96 0. 6½ R 9 R 4 1.6 L 9 R 8 1.1 L 9 B 8 0.2 R 9 L 96 1. 0½ L 9 R 8 1.8 L 9 R 4 1.0 L 9 R 96 0.6 R 9 L 96 1. 0½ L 9 L 8 1.8 R 9 L 4 1. 1¼ R 9 L 96 0.9 L 9 R 96 0. 7½ R 9 L 12 2.0 R 9 L 24 1. 1½ R 9 L 40 0. 1¼ L 9 R 96 1.0 R 9 R 12 2.1 L 9 L 32 0.6 R 9 L 38 0. 1½ R 9 R 40 0.8 L 9 R 16 1. 7½ L 9 L 40 0. 1½ R 9 L 39 0. 0½ L 9 L 40 0.5 R 9 L 16 1.8 R 9 L 48 0. 4½ L 9 R 39 0.1 L 9 L 48 0.1 R 9 L 20 1.5 R 9 R 20 1. 0½ L 9 R 12 0.6 L 2 R 48 0. 0¼ L 2 L 20 0.2 R ¼ R 20 1.4 L 9 R 12 0. 9¼ L 4 L 12 1.7 R 9 L 24 0.21/●; R ¼ R 64¼ 0. 7¼ R 9 R 12 1.2 L 6 L 12 0. 2¼ R ¼ L 28 0.1 R ¼ L 64¼ 0. 9¼ L 9 R 12 1. 5½ L 8 L 12 0. 6½ R 2 L 32 0. 1½ R ¼ L 96 1.1 L 9 R 12 1.9 L 9 L 12 1.0 R 4 L 36 0. 1¼ R ¼ R 96 0.7 R 9 B 12 0.1 L 9 L 12 1. 1¼ R 6 L 40 0.1 R ¼ R 96 0.8 R 9 R 12 0.3 L ¼ L 48 0. 0¼ R ¼ L 44 0. 0½ R ¼ L 96 1.3 L 9 L 12 0. 3½ R ¼ L 48 0. 1½ L 2 L 48 0. 0½ R ¼ L 96 1. 3½ L 9 L 96 0. 0½ R ¼ L 48 0. 2½ L 4 L 52 0. 0¼ R ¼ R 12 0. 3½ L 6 R 96 0. 0½ L ¼ L 48 0. 5½ L 6 L 56 0. 0¼ R ¼ R 12 1.3 L 9 R 96 0.2 R 2 L 4 0. 1½ R ¼ L 60 0. 0⅛ R ¼ L 12 0. 6¼ R 2 L 96 0.2 L  L 4 0. 1½ R ¼ L 64 0. 0⅛ R ¼ L 12 1. 0¼ R 4 L 48 0. 1½ R ¼ L 8 0. 3¼ R ¼ L 96 0.0 R ¼ L 12 1. 2½ R 6 L 48 0.0 N 2 L 12 0.3 R ¼ L 96 1.1 L 9 L 12 1. 4½ R 8 R 48 0. 1¼ L ¼ L 16 0. 2¼ R ¼       
Whence you may be pleased to observe:  
First, That the recoil of the Piece being hindered only at R or L, whatsoever be the charge of the Powder, the Bullet still misses the mark, placed at the mouth of the Gun, on the same side that the recoil is made.  
Secondly, That about twelve grains of Powder shoots widest from the mark at all distances above mentioned, on the same side that the Recoil is made.  
Thirdly, That above forty eight grains of Powder shoots wide from the mark, placed at nine foot from the muzzle of the Piece, on the contrary side to that on which the recoil is made.  
The cause of the first I cannot doubt to be the recoil of the Piece (from the force of the Powder) before the Bullet be parted from it.  
The second is, as I conceive, because with less than twelve grains the Piece ceaseth to recoil before the Bullet be parted from it. And with more than twelve grains the Bullet is parted from the Piece before it hath recoiled so far: A greater power not moving a greater weight swifter (horizontally) in the same proportion that it doth the lesser.  
And for the third I have this to offer, viz Because the mouth of the Gun is moving sidewards whilst the Bullet is going out; Therefore the mouth of the Piece must be contiguous (at least) unto the Bullet on the contrary side to that on which the Piece recoils, some time after the separation made on the other side, and therefore the last impulse of the Bullet from the force of the Powder is on that side the Piece recoils, wherefore the Bullet must necessarily cross the Axis of the Piece, and that with a greater or lesser Angle, according to the force of the Powder, & when this Angle therefore is greater than the Angle of recoil, then must the Axis of that Cylinder in which the Bullet moves cross the Axis of the mark, beyond which interjection the mark being placed, the Bullet must be carried necessarily wide of the mark on the contrary side to the recoil of the Piece.  
fek = flp = phm = the Angle of Recoil phn the Angle of Reflection made at the parting of the Bullet from the Piece. When phn > phm (mh being always parallel to fg) then must hn entersect fg if continued.  
Some other Experiments I have also made with another Piece (about the same length, but of a bore near two tenths of an inch less) and ordered in the same manner, and do find, that with a small charge the Bullet is shot (thence too) wide of the mark on the same side on which the Recoil is made, and with a full charge wide the contrary side.  
I caused besides two Pistol barrels of about five inches long to be placed upon Carriages with four Wheels, 
Fig. 3.  and loaded with lead, that they might not overturn when discharged, and both of equal weight, and an Iron Cylinder of the length of both their bores, and of the same diameter with a piece of Lead of weight equal to it. So that the piece of Led affixed to either of these Guns (which of them I should please to charge) might equally poise the other with the Iron Cylinder. And thus indifferently charging either with eight grains more or less of Powder, and putting the Iron Cylinder home into both, the piece of Lead being affixed to that which held the Powder, and then both so set upon the floor and the Powder fired, I could not thereby discover, that the charged Piece, or the other, either of them, did certainly recoil more or less than the other, they rather seemed still to be equal.  
These few Experiments I have made since, the Barrel being first cut at the muzzle, parallel to a vertical plain passing the line CD.  
B 48 0.8 L R 48 1.2 L B 48 0.9 L L 48 0.2 L B 16 0.1 R L 48 0.3 L B ●8 0.2 R     B ●8 0. ● N      
Besides these, there is another that I shall mention, and that is the Experiment itself, or the Double-Bottom'd-Ship, invented by Sir William Petty: of this I will venture to add a few words, and I think I may do it, without transgressing that Rule I had fixed to myself, of not enlarging on the praise of particular Names, or Designs. For since the Experiment itself is lost, I hope I may securely speak of its advantages: seeing men are wont out of common humanity to allow the commendations of dead Men, I trust I may commend a wrecked Ship, without any fear of the envy that may thence arise to the Author. In brief therefore I will say this of it, that it was the most considerable Experiment, that has been made in this Age of Experiments: if either we regard the great charge of the work, or the wonderful change it was likely to make in Navigation, or the great success, to which this first Attempt was arrived. Though it was at first confronted with the doubts, and Objections of most Seamen of our Nation, yet it soon confuted them by Experience. It appeared very much to excel all other forms of Ships, in sailing, in carriage, in security, and many other such benefits. Its first Voyage it performed with admirable swiftness. And though it miscarried after its return, yet it was destroyed by a common fate, and by such a dreadful tempest, as overwhelmed a great Fleet the same night: so that the Ancient Fabrics of Ships have no reason to triumph over that new Model, when of the threescore and ten sail that were in the same Storm, there was not one escaped to bring the News.  
In a word, though this Invention succeeded not, while it was only supported by private Purses: it will undoubtedly produce great effects, if ever it shall be retrieved upon the public Stock of a Nation: which will be able to sustain the first hazards, and losses that must be allowed to happen in the beginnings of all extraordinary Trials.  
To their Experiments I will subjoin their Observations, 
§. XXXIV. Their Observations.  which differ but in name from the other, the same fidelity, and truth being regarded in collecting them both.  
Observations of the fixed Stars for the perfecting of Astronomy, by the help of Telescopes: of the Comets in 1665, and 1666. which were made both in London, and elsewhere; and particularly of the first Comet, for above a month after, it disappeared to the naked eye, and became Stationary, and Retrograde.  
Observations about Saturn, of the proportion, and position of its Ring, of the Motion and Orbit of its Lunale, of the shadow of the Ring on the Body, and of the Body on the Ring; and of its Phases, etc. of jupiters' Belts, and of its spots, and verticity about its Axis, of its eclipsing its Satellites, and being eclipsed by them; of the Orbs, Inclinations, Motions, etc. of the Satellites, together with Tables, and Ephemerideses of their motions.  
Observations of the Spots about the Body of Mars, and of its whirling motion about its Centre: of several Eclipses of the Sun, and Moon, and some of them as were not taken notice of, by Astronomers, or Tables commonly used: of the Spots in the Moon, and of the several appearances in the Phases of it: of the Moon at the same time, by Correspondents in several parts of the World, towards the finding her Parallax, and distance.  
Observations of the Eliptical and waved Figures of the Planetary Bodies, near the Horizon from the refraction of the Hemisphere: of the effects of Lightning: of the various pressure of the Atmosphere, by a Wheel-barometer for several years, and of its usefulness for predicting the changes of Wether.  
Observations on frozen Beer: on the Figures of Snow frozen Water, Urine congealed: on the suspension of Mercury at a great height: on Mines, and Minerals: on the Concretions of Wood, Plants, Shells, and several Animal Substances: on the effects of Earthquakes, Fiery Eruptions, and Inundations: on Lakes, Mountains, Damps, subterraneous Fires: on Tides, Currents, and the Depth of the Sea.  
Observations of the liming of Ground, for improvement of the Bodies of Sheep, but spoiling their Wool: of several ways for preventing smutty Corn: of the importance of changing Seed-corn: of the alteration of the Horns of Sheep, and other cattle, by the change of Pasture: of the Pores and Valies in Wood: the Anatomy of Trees: of the sensitive, and humble Plant.  
Observations on the Bills of Mortality: on the leaves of Sage: on small living Flies in the Powder of Cantharideses: of Infects bred in Dew: of Virginian Silk-Bottoms: of the Parts, and Anatomy of Fishes: of the Teeth of Lupus Marinus, that they are the same thing with the Toadstones set in Rings: of the Respiration of Fishes: of Bernacles: of the calcined Powder of Toads: of an Outlandish Deer-skin, and hair: of the Parts of Vipers: of Stones taken out of the Heart of a Man: of young Vipers, that they do not eat holes through their old ones Bellies, as is commonly affirmed.  
For Examples of this Head, I will only refer my Reader to those which Mr. Grant has published on the Bills of Mortality; wherein the Author has shown, that the meanest and most trivial matters may be so cultivated, as to bear excellent Fruit, when they come under the management of an accurate, and prudent Observer: For from those Papers, which went about so many years, through every Tradesman's hands, without any manner of profit, except only to the Clerks that collected them, he has deduced many true Conclusions, concerning the gravest, and most weighty Parts of Civil Government, and humane Nature.  
As I am now passing away from their Experiments. 
§. XXXV. An Objection answered concerning the uncertainty of Experiments.  and Observations, which have been their proper, and principal work: there comes before me an Objection, which is the more to be regarded, because it is raised by the Experimenters themselves. For it is their common complaint, that there is a great nicety, and contingency, in the making of many Experiments: that their success is very often various, and inconstant, not only in the hands of different, but even of the same Triers. From hence they suggest their fears, that this continuance of Experimenters, of which we talk so much, will not prove so advantageous, though they shall be all equally cautious in observing, and faithful in recording their Discoveries: because it is probable, that the Trials of Future Ages will not agree with those of the present, but frequently thwart, and contradict them.  
The Objection is strong, and material; and I am so far from diminishing the weight of it, that I am rather willing to add more to it. I confess many Experiments are obnoxious to failing; either by reason of some circumstances, which are scarce discernible, till the work be over: or from the diversity of Materials, whereof some may be genuine, some sophisticated, some simple, some mixed, some fresh, some may have lost their virtue. And this is chiefly remarkable, in Chemical Operations, wherein if the dissolvents be ill prepared, if the Spirits be too much, or too little purified, if there be the least alteration, in the degree of Fire, the quantity of Matter, or by the negligence of those that attend it, the whole course will be overthrown, or changed from its first purpose.  
But what is now to be concluded from hence? shall this instability, and Casualty of Experiments, deter us from labouring in them at all? or should it not rather excite us to be more curious and watchful in their process? It is to be allowed that such undertake are wonderfully hazardous and difficult; why else does the Royal Society endeavour to preserve them from degenerating, by so many forewarnings, and rules, and a Method so severe? It is granted, that their event is often uncertain, and not answerable to our expectations. But that only aught to admonish us, of the indispensable necessity of a jealous, and exact Inquiry. If the uncertainty proceeded from a constant irregularity of Nature, we had reason then to despair: but seeing it for the most part arises only from some defect or change in our progress, we should thence learn, first to correct our own miscarriages, before we cease to hope for the success.  
Let then the Experiment be often renewed. If the same kinds, and proportions of Ingredients be used, and the same circumstances be punctually observed, the effect without all question will be the same. If some little variation of any of these, has made any alteration, a judicious, and well practised Trier will soon be able to discern the cause of it; and to rectify it, upon the next repetition. If the difference of time, or place, or matter, or Instruments, will not suffer the product to be just the same in all points: yet something else will result, that may prove perhaps as beneficial. If we cannot always arrive at the main end of our Labours, some less unsought Curiosities will arise. If we cannot obtain that which shall be useful for practice, there may something appear that may instruct.  
It is strange that we are not able to inculcate into the minds of many men, the necessity of that distinction of my Lord Bacons, that there ought to be Experiments of Light, as well as of Fruit. It is their usual word, What solid good will come from thence? They are indeed to be commended for being so severe Exactors of goodness. And it were to be wished, that they would not only exercise this vigour, about Experiments, but on their own lives▪ and actions: that they would still question with themselves, in all that they do; what solid good will come from thence? But they are to know, that in so large, and so various an Art as this of Experiments, there are many degrees of usefulness: some may serve for real, and plain benefit, without much delight: some for teaching without apparent profit: some for light now, and for use hereafter; some only for ornament, and curiosity. If they will persist in contemning all Experiments; except those which bring with them immediate gain, and a present harvest: they may as well cavil at the Providence of God, that he has not made all the seasons of the year, to be times of mowing, reaping, and vintage.  

§ XXXVI. The Instruments they have invented.  Of the variety, and excellence of the Instruments, with which this Age abounds, for their help in Philosophical matters, I have already discoursed in the former Part. I will now go on to mention those new ones, which they themselves, or some of their Members, have either invented, or advanced, for the ease, strength, and direction of their senses, in the motions of Nature, and Art: of this kind are these that follow.  
An Instrument for finding a second of Time by the Sun: another for finding the Celestial Refractions.  
Three several Quadrants made after three new contrivances, which though they are not above eighteen Inches in Diameter, and so are manageable in any Window, or Turret, are yet far more exact, than the best, that have been hitherto used, for Astronomical Observations, or taking Angles at Land.  
A new Instrument for taking Angles by reflection; by which means the Eye at the same time sees the two Objects, both as touching in the same point, though distant almost to a Semicircle: which is of great use for making exact Observations at Sea.  
A new kind of Back-staff for taking the Sun's altitude by the Shadow, and Horizon: which is so contrived, that though the shadow be at three foot distance, or as much more as is desired, yet there shall not be the least Penumbra: and the Shadow may be easily distinguished to the fourth part of a minute.  
A Hoop of all the fixed Stars in the Zodiac, for the speedy finding the Position of the Ecliptic, and for knowing the extent of the Constellations.  
A Copernican Sphere, representing the whirling Motion of the Sun, and the Motion of the several Planets.  
A great many new ways of making Instruments, for keeping time very exactly, both with Pendulums, and without them: whereby the intervals of time may be measured both on the Land, and Sea.  
A universal Standard, or measure of Magnitudes, by the help of a Pendulum, never before attempted.  
A new kind of Pendulum Clock, wherein the Pendulum moves circularly, going with the most simple, and natural motion, moving very equally, and making no kind of noise.  
A Pendulum Clock showing the aequation of Time.  
Three new ways of Pendulums for Clocks, and several ways of applying the motion of the Watch-work to them.  
Several new kinds of Pendulum Watches for the Pocket, wherein the motion is regulated, by Springs, or Weights, or Lodestones, or Flies moving very exactly regular.  
Several sorts of Instruments for compressing, and rarefying the Air: A Wheel-Barometer, and other Instruments for finding the pressure of the Air, and serving to predict the changes of the Wether.  
A new kind of Scales, for examining the gravity of Bodies in all places: to see whether the attraction of the Earth, be not greater in some parts of the Earth, than in others, and whether it do not decrease, at farther distances from the surface of the Earth; either upwards into the Air, or downwards under the Earth.  
A very exact pair of Scales, for trying a great number of Magnetical Experiments.  
Several very accurate Beams, for trying many Statical Experiments, and for finding the most exact gravity of several kinds of Bodies.  
A great number of Magnetical Instruments, for making Experiments about Lodestones.  
Several new kinds of Levels for finding the true Horizon, where, by one of not above a foot length, the Horizontal line may be found, without the error of many seconds.  
A new kind of Augar for boring the ground, and fetching up whatever it meets with in the right order.  
A new Instrument for fetching up any Substance from the bottom of the Sea, whether Sand, Shells, Clay, Stones, Minerals, Metals.  
A new Bucket for examining and fetching up whatever Water is to be found at the bottom of the Sea, or at any dept, and for bringing it up without mixing with the other Water of the Sea, through which it passes.  
Two new ways of sounding the depth of the Sea without a Line, for examining the greatest dept of the Ocean, in those parts of it, that are most remote from the Land.  
Several Instruments for finding the velocity of swimming Bodies of several Figures, and moved with divers strengths, and for trying what Figures are least apt to be overturned, in order to the making a true Theory, of the Forms of Ships, and Boats for all uses.  
An Instrument of great height, with Glass-windows on the sides, to be filled with Water, for examining the velocity of Bodies of several Substances, Figures and Magnitudes, by their descent.  
An Instrument for measuring, and dividing the time of their Descent, to the accurateness of two, or three thirds of time, serving also for examining the swiftness of Bodies descending through the Air, and of Bodies shot by a Gun, or Bow.  
A Bell for diving under water to a great depth, wherein a man has continued at a considerable depth under water, for half an hour, without the least inconvenience.  
Another Instrument for a Diver, wherein he may continue long under water, and may walk to and fro, and make use of his strength, and limbs, almost as freely as in the Air.  
A new sort of Spectacles, whereby a Diver may see any thing distinctly under Water.  
A new way of conveying the Air under Water, to any Depth, for the use of Divers.  
An Instrument for measuring the swiftness, and strength of the Wind.  
An Instrument for the raising a continual stream of Water, by turning round a movable valve, within the hollow of a close Cylindrical Barrel.  
Several kinds of Thermometers for discovering the heat, and cold of the Air, or any other Liquors: a Thermometer for examining all the degrees of heat in Flames, and Fires, made of several Substances; as also the degrees of heat requisite to melt Soder, Led, Tin, Silver, Brass, Iron, Copper, Gold.  
A Standard for Cold several ways.  
An Instrument for planting of Corn.  
Four several sorts of Hygroscopes made with several Substances, for discovering the drought, and moisture of the Air.  
Several kinds of ways to examine the goodness, and badness of Waters.  
Several Engines for finding, and determining the force of Gunpowder, by Weights, Springs, Sliding, etc.  
An Instrument for receiving, and preserving the force of Gunpowder, so as to make it applicable, for the performing of any motion desired.  
Several Instruments for examining the recoiling, true carriage, and divers other proprieties of Guns.  
Several kinds of Otocousticons, or Instruments to improve the sense of hearing.  
Several Models of Chariots, and other Instruments, for Progressive Motion.  
A Chariot-way-wiser, measuring exactly the length of the way of the Chariot, or Coach to which it is applied.  
An Instrument for making Screws with great dispatch.  
A way of preserving the most exact impression of a Seal, Medal, Sculpture; and that in a Metal harder than Silver.  
An Instrument for grinding Optick-glasses: a double Telescope: several excellent Telescopes of divers lengths, of six, twelve, twenty eight, thirty six, sixty foot long, with a convenient Apparatus for the managing of them: and several contrivances in them for measuring the Diameters, and parts of the Planets, and for finding the true position, and distance of the small fixed Stars, and Satellites.  
Towards the exactness of all manner of these Optick-glasses, the English have got a great advantage of late years, by the Art of making Glass, finer, and more serviceable for Microscopes, and Telescopes, than that of Venice. This Invention was brought into our Country, and practised here, by the care, and expense of the Duke of Buckingham; whom the Author of these Papers ought to mention with all honour; both for his Skill and Zeal in advancing such Experimental Studies of which I am writing: and also because it has been by the favour of so great a Patron, that I have enjoyed the leisure, and convenience of composing this History.  
As soon as they were reduced into a Fixed Assembly, 
§. XXXVII Their Repository and Library.  one of the Principal Intentions they proposed to accomplish, was a General Collection of all the Effects of Arts, and the Common, or Monstrous Works of Nature. This they at first began by the casual Presents, which either Strangers, or any of their own Members bestowed upon them. And in short time it has increased so fast, by a contribution from all Parts, and chiefly by the bounty of Mr. Colwal, that they have already drawn together into one Room, the greatest part of all the several kinds of things, that are scattered throughout the Universe. The Keeping, and Ranging of these into order, is committed to Mr. Hook, who had also the honour of being made the first Curator of the Royal Society by election. This Repository he has begun to reduce under its several heads, according to the exact Method of the Ranks of all the Species of Nature, which has been composed by Doctor Wilkins, and will shortly be published in his Universal Language: A Work wherein this excellent Man has undertaken a Design, that very well fits the temper of his own Mind; for it well became him to teach a Communion of Speech amongst all Philosophers; whose chief study it has always been, to promote a general agreement, and correspondence amongst all Virtuous and Wise men.  
This Book had sooner seen the light, if part of it had not perished in the Fire. Of its use and accurate composition there is no man can doubt, that has ever heard the name of the Author: of whom, if I had not at first restrained myself from particular commendations, I might have said very much in his praise, which deserves to be known to all the World, and to be the first Experiment of his own Universal Language.  

Their Library.  Having well succeeded in this their purpose of collecting divers patterns of all Natural, and Artificial things: they have also (amongst others) appointed a Committee, whose chief employment shall be to read over whatever Books have been written on such subjects. By this means they hope speedily to observe, and digest into Manuscript volumes, all that has been hitherto tried, or propounded in such studies. This is the only help that an Experimenter can receive from Books: which he may still use, as his Guides, though not as his Masters. For this end they have begun a Library consisting only of such Authors, as may be serviceable to their Design. To this there has been lately made a great Addition, by the Munificent Gift of Mr. Henry Howard of Norfolk, who has bestowed on the Society the whole Arundelian Library, containing several hundreds of choice Manuscripts, besides some thousands of other Books of all kinds. And because many of them belonged to other Professions, this Noble Benefactor has given them with a free permission of changing them for others, that shall be more proper for their Work: Whereby they will shortly be able to show a complete Collection of all that has been published in the Ancient, or Modern Tongues, which either regards the productions of Nature, or the effects of all Manual Arts.  
Nor is this the only bounty which this Illustrious Person has conferred on the Royal Society; since by the firing of London, the first place of their meeting has been restored to its original use, and made an Exchange, he has afforded them a retreat in his own house, where they assemble at this present: By which favour he has added a new honour to the ancient Nobility of his Race: one of his Ancestors had before adorned that place with many of the best Monuments of Antiquity: And now by entertaining these new discoveries under his Roof, his Family deserves the double praise of having cherished both the old, and new Learning; so that now methinks in Arundel house, there is a perfect representation, what the Real Philosophy ought to be: As there we behold new Inventions to flourish amongst the Marbles, and Images of the Dead: so the present Arts, that are now rising, should not aim at the destruction of those that are past, but be content to thrive in their company.  
It will not I hope be expected, 
Sect. XXXVIII. Their Discourses and Theories.  that I should present my Reader an Index of all the several Writings, which have at any time been published by the Members of the Royal Society I shall omit those, which either were printed before the beginning of this Institution, or which treat of matters, that have no relation to their Design. Only I will say in general, that there is scarce any Art, or Argument, which has ever been the subject of humane Wit, of which I might not produce Instances, that some Fellows of this Society have given good proofs of their labours in it: of those Discourses, which have been since composed by some of their Body, or read before their weekly Assemblies, and directly concern the advancement of their Work, these are the principal.  
Several Hypotheses explaining the divers Phases and Motions, and other Phaenomena of the Comets.  
Several Hypotheses of Saturn, and its Satelles.  
An Hypothesis of the cause of the Rugosity of the Moon's surface.  
An Hypothesis of the motion of the Moon, and of the Sea depending upon it.  
An Hypothesis of the Motion of the Planets, and of Circular Motion in general.  
Several Hypotheses for the Aequation of Time.  
A Discourse about the possibility of the Retardation of Celestial Motions, and of their going slower, and slower, the longer they last.  
A Discourse of making the several Vibrations of a Pendulum equal, by making the weight of it move in a Cycloid instead of a Circle.  
Several Discourses, and Hypotheses about the length of a Pendulum, for moving once in a second of Time.  
A Discourse of the most convenient length of a Pendulum, for making a Standard for a universal Measure.  
Several Astronomical Discourses of Mr. Horrex retrieved, and digested for the Press.  
Vleg Beg translated, about the places of the fixed Stars, and several other Astronomical Observations.  
A Discourse about the possibility of the change of the attractive power of the Earth, and consequently of the variation of the vibrative motion of Pendulums.  
A Discourse about short inclining Pendulums, and of other Pendulums counterpoised above the Centre of Motion, and of others lying Horizontal in the manner of a Beam.  
An Hypothesis about Fire, and Flame.  
An Hypothesis, and discourse of the gravity, pressure, and spring of the Air.  
A Discourse of an Air Register.  
Several Discourses Mathematical, and Philosophical, upon the Experiment of raising great weights by the Breath.  
A Discourse and Demonstration against a proposed Method of doubling the Cube, and of finding two mean Proportionals.  
Several Discourses about Thermometers, Hygroscopes, Baroscopes, and other Weather-wisers.  
An Hypothesis and Discourse of the Inflection and inflective veins of the Air, and of the fitness, and unfitness of the Air for Celestial Observations.  
An Hypothesis of the Form, and Spring of the Air.  
A Discourse of the different parts of the same Water, and of the difference of Waters.  
A Discourse and Hypothesis of Filtration, and of the Congruity, and Incongruity of Bodies.  
A Discourse of the possible height of the Air, and of its proportionable rarefaction upwards.  
An Hypothetical Discourse about the suspension of the Clouds, and their pressure.  
An Hypothesis, and Discourse of Earthquakes.  
A Discourse of Petrifactions, and an Hypothesis for explaining the several varieties of such Bodies.  
Several Discourses about the Loadstone, and an Hypothesis for salving its appearances.  
A Discourse about the Pores of Stones.  
A Discourse about Eggs.  
A Discourse concerning the Glassdrops.  
A Discourse and Hypothesis of annealing, and tempering Steel.  
Discourses about Cider, and Coffee.  
A Discourse of the original of Forms.  
An Hypothesis of Light.  
A Discourse and Hypothesis of the Nature and Proprieties of Colours.  
A Discourse about improving Wood for Dying, and for fixing Colours.  
A Discourse about the improvement of Music.  
A Discourse of the differing Heat of Summer, and Winter:  
A Discourse, and Hypothesis about Fluidity.  
Discourses upon several Mercurial Experiments.  
Discourses of hydrostatics.  
Discourses about the force of falling Bodies.  
A Treatise of the motion of the Muscles.  
A Discourse of the usefulness of Experimental Philosophy.  
A Treatise of the vanity of Dogmatizing.  
The Sceptical Chemist.  
Essays about Saltpetre.  
The Parallel of the Ancient, and Modern Architecture.  
Microscopical Observations.  
Micrographia, or a Discourse of things discovered by a Microscope.  
Three Books of Favours, of the Brain, and of the Scurvy, which I will allege as the great Instances of this head: Wherein the Famous Author has with accurate diligence made prodigious improvements in all the parts of Physic, and shown that the largeness of his Knowledge in it, is equal to the happy success of his practice.  
In this Collection of their Discourses, and Treatises, my Reader beholding so many to pass under the name of Hypotheses, may perhaps imagine that this consists not so well with their Method, and with the main purpose of their Studies, which I have often repeated to be chiefly bend upon the Operative, rather than the Theoretical Philosophy. But I hope he will be satisfied, if he shall remember, that I have already removed this doubt, by affirming, that whatever Principles, and Speculations they now raise from things, they do not rely upon them as the absolute end, but only use them as a means of farther Knowledge. This way the most speculative Notions, and Theorems that can be drawn from matter, may conduce to much profit. The light of Science, and Doctrines of causes, may serve exceeding well to promote our Experimenting; but they would rather obscure, than illuminate the mind, if we should only make them the perpetual Objects of our Contemplation: as we see the light of the Sun, is most beneficial to direct our footsteps in walking, and our hands in working, which would certainly make us blind, if we should only continue fixed, and gazing on its Beams.  
The Histories they have gathered are either of Nature, 
§. XXXIX. The Histories they have collected.  Arts, or Works. These they have begun to collect by the plainest Method, and from the plainest Information. They have fetched their Intelligence from the constant and unerring use of experienced Men of the most unaffected, and most unartificial kinds of life. They have already performed much in this way, and more they can promise the world to accomplish in a very short space of Time.  
There are already brought in to them the History of Comets in general, and especially of the two last: The History of English Mines, and Oars: and particularly two several Histories of Tinneries and Tin-working.  
The Histories of Iron-making: of Lignum Fossile: of Saffron: of Alkermes: of Verdigreace: of whiting of Wax: of Cold: of Colours: of Fluidity, and firmness.  
The Histories of Refining: of making Copperas: of making Alum: of Saltpetre: of making Latin: of Lead: of making Salt out of Sea-water: of refining Gold: of making Pot-Ashes: of making Ceruse: of making Brass: of Painting, and Limning: of Calcography: of Enamelling: of Varnishing: of Dying.  
The Histories of making Cloth: of Worsted-Combers: of Fuller's: of Tanners, and Leather-making: of Glover's, and Leather-dressing: of Parchment, and Vellum-making, and the way of making transparent Parchment: of Paper-making: of Hatters: of making Marble-paper: of the Rowling-Press.  
The Histories of making Bread: of Malt: of brewing Beer and Ale in several places: of Whale-fishing: of the Wether for several years: of Wind-mills, and other Mills in Holland: of Masonry: of Pitch and Tar: of Maiz: of Vintners: of Shot: of making Gunpowder: and of making some, that is twenty times as strong as the common Pistol-powder.  
The two last of these were communicated to the Royal Society by the favour of Prince Rupert; whom I take the boldness to mention here, for his excellent Knowledge, and use in all manner of Mechanical Operations. But his name will be recorded in all the Histories of this time, for greater works, for many glorious Enterprises by Sea and Land, and for the Immortal Benefits whereby he has obliged the English Nation.  
The Instances that I shall give of this their manner of collecting Histories, shall be, of Works, that of Saltpetre, of Arts, that of Dying, of Nature, that of Oysters: which last may perhaps seem a subject too mean to be particularly alleged; but to me it appears worthy to be produced. For though the British Oysters have been famous in the World, ever since this Island was discovered, yet the skill how to order them aright, has been so little considered amongst ourselves, that we see at this day, it is confined to some few narrow Creeks of one single County.   

THE HISTORY Of the Making of SALTPETRE By Mr. HENSHAW.  
WHether the Nitre of the Ancients be of the same species with the Salt which is commonly known by the name of Salt peter, is variously disputed by very learned Authors amongst the modern Physicians: on the negative side are Mathiolus and Bellonius; the latter of which had the advantage, by the opportunity of his travels in Egypt, to have often seen and handled them both, and is so positive as to pronounce, that in all Christendom there is not one grain of Nitre to be found, unless it be brought from other parts, although at the time of his being in Grand Cairo (which was about the year 1550.) it was so common there (as he says) that ten pounds of it would not cost a Mordin. Among those that hold the affirmative, the most eminent are Cardan and Longius; and it should seem the general vote of Learned men hath been most favourable to that Opinion, by reason that in all Latin Relations and Prescriptions, the word Nitrum or Halinitrum is most commonly used for Salt-peter.  
I have often enquired amongst our London Drugster's for Egyptian Nitre, and if I had been so fortunate as to have found any, I doubt not but I should have been able to have put an end to that Question by a Demonstration; that is, by turning the greatest part of it into Saltpetre. However, the Observations I have made in my own private Experiments, and in the practice of Saltpetre men and Refiners of Saltpetre, seem to give me sufficient ground to suspect, that the confidence of those, who hold them to be several Salts, proceedeth chiefly from their being unacquainted with the various 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of Saltpetre in the making and refining of it: and also their comparing double refined Saltpetre (of which Gunpowder is made) with that description of Nitrum and Aprhonitrum in the tenth chapter of the one and thirtieth Book of Pliny's Natural History (the only tolerable account of that Salt that hath been handed to us from Antiquity) where he tells us, That Aphronitrum was Colore penè purpureo, and Egyptian Nitre Fuscum & Lapidosum, adding afterward, Sunt ibi Nitrariae in quibus rufum exit a colore terrae, which is sufficient to have hinted to any one but moderately versed in the modern way of ordering Saltpetre, that the Ancients were not at all skilled in refining their Nitre from the Earth and common Salt that is usually mingled with it, nor from that foul yellow Oil, which, it seems, did accompany their Nitre, as well as it doth our Saltpetre, in great abundance; for Pliny takes notice of it, when he mentions the removing the Nitre (after it is grained) out of the Nitrariae, saying, Hic quoque natura olei intervenit, ad scabiem animalium utilis: And indeed this greasy Oil (which the Workmen call Mother of Saltpetre, and perhaps is but the crude and unripe part of it) doth by nature so wonderfully adhere to every part else of the Peter (it may be ordained for the nutriment and augmentation of it) that the separation of it is the sole cause of the great charge and labour that is required to the refining of Peter: otherwise the Peter will be yellow, or brown, or some other dark colour. And Scaliger in his 104. Exercit. sect. 15. saith, Sublustris purpurae quasi splendor quidam in salis-petrae-terris sepenumero est a nobis observatus; and he that shall boil a Lixivium passed through a Salt-peter-earth, up to a consistence, without filtering it through ashes, or giving the Salt leave to Crystallise, may perhaps find something not unlike the Nitre of the Ancients.  
To make this doubt yet clearer, it will require your patience to observe a few short remains out of the same Pliny, concerning the production of Nitre; saith he, Exiguum Nitri fit apud Medos, candescentibus siccitate convallibus quod vocant Halmirhaga: minus etiam in Thracia juxta Philippos sordidum Terra quod appellant Agrium.  
This agrees very exactly with what I have been informed of by a Refiner of Saltpetre, that near Sophia, Santa-Cruz, and several other places in Barbary, he hath seen Saltpetre shoot out of the ground (as thick and white as a hoar frost) on many barren and desert Lands; only he adds, that this happens not till the beginning of the reins in August, or September; and that it is the falling of the freshwater that causes the Saltpetre to shoot out into little Crystals; and that the people of the Country do no more but take it off the ground as clean as they can, and sell it to Merchant-Strangers. This is, says he, the Barbary Peter, which the Refiners buy commonly at twenty shillings per Cent.  
Much after the same manner (by the relation of an India Merchant) is that great quantity of Peter produced, which of late years hath been brought into England, and other parts of Christendom, from about Pegu in East-India, saving that the Natives do refine it once, before they sell it to the Merchants: But being not so skilful, to discharge it from the common Salt, which attends Peter, our Workmen do refine it again, before it be fit for Gunpowder.  
The next remark out of Pliny is, Aquae vero Nitrosae pluribus in locis reperiuntur, sed sine viribus Densandi (he means by the heat of the Sun in those places) Optimum Copiosumque in Clytis Macedoniae quod vocant Chalastricum candidum purumque proximum sali. Lacus est Nitrosus, exiliente è medio dulci fonticulo, ibi fit Nitrum circa Canis ortum, novenis diebus, totidemque cessat, & rursus innatat & deinde cessat, iis autem diebus quibus gignitur si fuëre imbres salsius Nitrum faciunt, Aquilones deterius quia Validius commovent limum. In Egypto autem conficitur multò abundantius sed deterius, nam suscum lapidosumque est, fit penè eodem modo quo Sal: nisi quod Salinis mare infundunt, Nilum autem Nitrariis.  
How such great plenty of Nitre should be found in the Waters above mentioned will be no difficulty to conjecture, if we consider that Lakes are the receptacles of Land floods, and that great Rains may easily bring it to the Lake in Macedonia, from the higher parts in the Country about it. And for the River Nile, there must needs be less scruple concerning it, if we call to mind that once in a year, it sweeps with an impetuous overflow the burnt and barren Deserts of Africa under the Torrid Zone; where, by the relation of Travellers, those Sands are visibly full of Nitre, and those few Springs and Wells that are to be found there, are by that reason so bitter, that the Moors and their Camels are forced to make a hard shift with them in their long journeys.  
But when he comes to describe the Aphronitrum, he comes more home, both to the name and nature of our Saltpetre, in these words, Proxima aetas Medicorum tradidit, Aphronitrum in Asia Colligi in speluncis & molibus distillans, dein sole siccant. And Scaliger speaking of Saltpetre, says, Est quaedam Nitri species inhaerens Rupibus, in quibus insolatur, ac propterea Salpetra dicitur. And I myself, for my own satisfaction in the point, have drawn very good Rock peter out of those Stiriae, which are usually found hanging like Icicles in Arched-cellars and Vaults; and have been told, that a Physician in Shropshire did perform great Cures by virtue of Sal-prunellae, which he made only of Flower of Brimstone and those Stiriae.  
But to steer more directly upon our immediate subject, Saltpetre; though it be likely, that the Air is every where full of a volatile kind of Nitre, which is frequently to be seen coagulated into fine white Salt, like Flower of Wheat (but by the very taste may be easily known to be Peter) sticking to the sides of Plastred-walls, and in Brick-walls to the Mortar between the Bricks, (in dry weather, or where the wall is defended from the rain) for Lime doth strongly attract it; though Dew and Rain do convey much of it to the Earth, and the Clouds seem to be spread out before the face of the Sun, either to imbibe some part of his influence, or to have a Salt generated in them, for to advance the fertility of the Earth, and certainly they return not without a blessing; for I have more than once extracted Salt peter out of Rain and Dew, but from the latter more plentifully, and yet even there, is Saltpetre accompanied with a greasy purple Oil, in great plenty: Though (as I have found upon trial) that most standing waters, and even deep Wells have some small quantity of Saltpetre in them; though the face of the Earth, if it were not impregnated with this Salt, could not produce Vegetables; for Salt (as the Lord Bacon says) is the first Rudiment of Life; and Nitre is as it were the life of Vegetables: Yet to be more sure of it, I made Experiment likewise there too, and found some little of it in fallows, and the Earth which Moles cast up in the Spring: Though I say the Air and Water want it not, yet is it not there to be had in any proportion, answerable to the charge in getting it: And though the Earth must necessarily have great quantities thereof, generated or infused into it; yet in these temperate Countries of Europe, it is no sooner dilated by Rain-water, or the Moisture of the Earth, but it is immediately applied to the production or nutriment of some Plant, Insect, Stone, or Mineral; so that the Artist will find as little of it here to serve his turn, as in the other two Elements.  
The only place therefore, where Saltpetre is to be found in these Northern Countries, is in Stables, Pigeon-houses, Cellars, Barns, Warehouses, or indeed any place, which is covered from the Rain, which would dissolve it, and (as I have said) make it vegetate; as also from the Sun, which doth rarify it, and cause it to be exhaled into the Air; (For the same reason Husbandmen also might make double or triple the profit they usually do of their Muck, if they would lay it up under a Hovel, or some covered place, until they carry it out upon their Land.) And I have been told by an experienced Workman, that no place yields Peter so plentifully, as the Earth in Churches, were it not an impiety to disturb the Ashes of our Ancestors, in that sacred Depository.  
Provided always, that the Earth be of good mould, and the better the mould is, the more Peter is produced, for in Clay or sandy Earth, little or none is to be found: The freer ingress the Air hath into a place, is still of more advantage, so that the Sun be excluded: And let the Earth be never so good, if it be laid on a brick or boarded floor, it will not be so rich in Peter, as if it have free communication with the Exhalations of the lower parts of the Earth.  
In any place thus qualified, you cannot miss of good quantities of Peter, if it have not been drawn out in some years before; which a Workman will quickly find, after he hath digged the first spadeful of Earth, by laying a little of it on the end of his tongue, and if it taste bitter, he is sure of good store of mineral, (as they love to call it) that is, Saltpetre; if the Ground be good, it continues rich, to six or eight foot deep, and sometimes, but not often, to ten.  
After the Saltpetre is extracted, if the Earth be laid wet into the same place again, it will be twenty years ere any considerable quantity grow there of it; but if the Earth be well dried, it will come in twelve or fourteen: and if they mingle, with the dried Earth store of Pigeons-dung, and mellow Horse-dung, and then temper it with Urine (as was usual before we were supplied with Peter from India) it will be fit to dig again in five or six years. He that shall cast Water upon a Ground fit to dig for Peter, will only sink the Mineral deeper into the Earth; but he that throws Soap-suds on it, will quite destroy the Peter, (as the Workmen have a Tradition) and it very well deserves a further Enquiry.  
That Saltpetre, and the way of drawing it out of the Earth, now in use, was a modern Invention, is generally concluded by all Authors; but whether we owe it to chance, or the sagacity of some great Wit, is as unknown, as the time when it was first discovered.  
It seems to have many years preceded the Invention of Gunpowder, which by the Germans is ascribed to Constantine Autlitzer, or Berthold Schwertz a Monk of Friburgh, and was, in all probability, not long discovered, when the Inventor (as Polydore Virgil tells us) taught the use of Guns, to the Venetians, at the Battle of Fossa Claudia, when they obtained that notable Victory over the Genoveses, Anno 1380. For there is mention made, both of Saltpetre and Aqua fortis, in the Writings of Geber, a Spanish More, and an Alchemist; but at what time he lived is unknown, though it be certain, some hundreds of years before Raimund Lul; who about the year 1333. published some of his Books, wherein he treats of Saltpetre and Aqua fortis. It is no ill conjecture of Maierus, that the foresaid Monk, being a skilful Alchemist, had a design to draw a higher Spirit from Peter than the common Aqua fortis, and that he might better open the body of Peter, he ground it with Sulphur and Charcoal, by which Composure he soon became the Inventour of Gunpowder.  

The manner of making SALTPETRE.  
IN the first place you must be provided of eight or ten Tubs, so large, that they may be able to contain about ten Barrows full of Earth, each of them. These Tubs must be all open at the top; but in the bottom of every one of them, you must make a hole near to that side you intent to place outermost, which hole you must fit very well with a Tap and Spigot on the outside downward. On the inside of the Tub, near the tap-hole, you must carefully place a large wad of straw, and upon that a short piece of board, which is all to keep the earth from stopping up the tap-hole. When you have placed your Tubs on their stands, at such a distance one from the other, that you may come with ease between them, then fill them up with such Peter-earth as you have chosen for your work, leaving only void about a spans breadth between the Earth and the edge of the Tub; then lay on the top of the Earth in each Tub, as near as you can to the middle, a rundle of Wicker, like the bottom of a Basket, and about a foot in diameter, and by it stick into the earth a good strong Cudgel, which must be thrust pretty near the bottom; the Wicker is to keep the Water, when it is poured on, from hollowing and disordering the Earth, and the Cudgel is to be stirred about, to give the Water ingress to the Earth upon occasion: Then pour on your Earth common cold Water, till it stand a hands breadth over the Earth: When it hath stood eight or ten hours loosen the Spigots, and let the Water rather dribble, than run into half Tubs, which must be set under the taps: This Lixivium the Workmen call their Raw-liquor; and note that if it come not clear at the first drawing, you must pour it on again, and after some little time draw it off, till it come clear, and of the colour of Urine.  
If you are curious to know how rich your Liquor is before boiling, you may take a Glass-vial, containing a quart, fill it with the common Water you use, then weigh it exactly; next fill the same Glass with your Liquor, and find the difference of weight, which compared with the quantity of all your Liquors, will give you a very near guess, how much Saltpetre you are like to make by that boiling.  
Then pour on again, on the same Earth, more common Water, that it may bring away what is remaining in the Earth of the former Liquor. This second Liquor is of no other use, but to be poured on new Earth, instead of common Water, because it contains some quantity of Saltpetre in it.  
When this is done, turn out the useless insipid Earth out of the Tubs, which you must fill with new Earth, and continue this Operation, till you have in the same manner lixiviated all the Earth: Then fill your Copper with your Liquor, which Copper, for one of the Profession, must be about two hundred weight, and set strongly in a Furnace of brickwork; besides, on one side of your Furnace, you are to place a Tub full of your Liquor, which at a tap below may dribble as fast into the Copper, as the force of the Fire doth waste your Liquor, which Invention is only to save charges in Fuel. When you have boiled it up to that height, that a little of it, flirted off the finger on a live Charcoal, will flash like Gunpowder (which for the most part falls out to be after two days and a nights boiling) at what time, upon trial, a hundred weight of the Liquor contains about five and thirty pound weight of Peter. But the Workmen seldom make use of any further indication, than by finding the Liquor hang like oil on the sides of the Brasen-scummer, when 'tis dipped into it, which is a sign it is fit to be passed through the Ashes, which is done in this manner.  
You must prepare two Tubs fitted after the manner of the first, where you put your Earth, saving that at the bottom of these Tubs, you must lay Reeds or Straw a foot high, over them place loose boards, pretty near one another, over them, a little more Straw (which is to keep the Ashes from the top, and to give the Liquor room to drain the better from them:) Then fill up your Tubs with any sort of Wood-ashes to half a foot of the top; Then pour on the foresaid Liquor, as it comes scalding hot out of the Copper, on the Ashes contained in the first Tub; then after a while draw it off at the top; and so continue putting on and drawing off, first at one Tub of Ashes, then at the other, till your Liquor grow clear, and lose the thick turbid colour it had when it went on.  
When all the Liquor hath in this manner passed through the Ashes of both Tubs, that by this means all its greasy oil is left behind in the Ashes, you must keep it for the second boiling in a vessel by itself: in the mean time pour upon your Ashes a suffient quantity of common Water very hot, once or twice, to bring away what is remaining of the Liquor in the Ashes.  
When you begin the second boiling, put first into the Copper the Water that went last through your Ashes, and as that wasteth, let your strong Liquor drop into the Copper, out of the Tub above described, standing on the side of the Furnace, till the Liquor in the Copper be ready to shoot or chrystallise.  
Note that toward the end of your boiling, there will arise great store of Scum and Froth, which must be carefully taken off with a great brass Scummer, made like a Ladle, full of little holes, and usually about that time it lets fall some common Salt to the bottom, which you must take up with the said Scummer, and lay it aside for another use.  
To know when the Liquor is ready to shoot into Peter, you need but drop a little of it on a knife, or any other cold thing that hath a smooth superficies, and if it coagulate, like a drop of tallow, and do not fall off the knife when it is turned downward, which also may be judged by its hanging like oil to the sides of the Scummer. When the Liquor is brought to this pass, every hundred weight of it containeth about threescore and ten pound weight of Peter.  
When you find your Liquor thus ready to shoot, you must with great Iron Ladles lad it out of the Copper into a high narrow Tub for that purpose, which the Workmen call their settling Tub; and when the Liquor is grown so cool, that you can endure your finger in it, you shall find the common or cubick Salt begin to gravulate and stick to the sides of the Tub, then at the tap, placed about half a foot from the bottom, draw off your Liquor into deep wooden Trays, or Brass-pans, and the cooler the place is where you let them stand to shoot in, the better and more plentifully will the Saltpetre, be produced; but it will be of no good colour till it be refined, but will be part white, part yellow, and some part of it blackish.  
The Salt which sticketh to the sides and bottom of the settling Tub is (as I have said) of the nature of common Salt; and there is scarce any Peter to be found but is accompanied with it, though no doubt some of this is drawn out of the Ashes by the second Liquors: If it be foul they refine it by itself, and about London sell it at good rates to those that salt Neat's Tongues, Bacon, and Collar-Beef, for besides a savoury taste, it gives a pleasing red colour to most Flesh that is salted with it. Pliny says Nitrum obsonia alba & deteriora reddit Olera viridiora, whether Saltpetre doth so, I have not yet tried.  
When the Liquor hath stood two days and two nights in the Pans, that part of the Liquor which is not coagulated but swims upon the Peter, must be carefully poured off, and being mingled with new Liquors must again pass the Ashes before it be boiled, else it will grow so greasy it will never generate any Salt.   

To Refine SALTPETRE.  
AFter you have made your Copper very clean, put in as much Water as you think will dissolve that quantity of Peter you purpose to Refine, when the Water is very hot cast in the Peter by little and little, stirring it about with a Ladle, that it may the sooner dissolve, then increase the Fire till your Liquor begin to boil: In the mean time feel with the Scummer, whether there be at the bottom any Salt undissolved and take it out, for it is Common-Salt, and doth not so soon dissolve as the Peter; then as the Water boils scim of the Froth that swims at the top of it as fast as it riseth; when it hath boiled to the height that a drop of it will coagulate on a Plate, (as hath been said above in the making of Salt-Peter,) then cast in by degrees either a Pint of the strongest Wine-Vinegar, or else four Ounces of Allom beaten to powder (some choose burnt Allom,) and you shall observe a black Scum to rise on the top of the Liquor, which when you have allowed some time to thicken, you may easily take off with the Scummer; repeat this so often till no more Scum arises. Some do use to throw in a Shovel full of quicklime, and say it makes Peter the whiter, and Rock the better; you must take great care all this while the Fire be not too strong, for while this is doing, the Liquor will be apt to boil over, and will not easily be appeased without your great loss.  
When this is done, lad out the Liquor into a settling Tub, and cover it over with a Cloth, that it cool not too soon, and within an hour or two a thick yellow Faeces will fall to the bottom of the Tub, then quickly draw of the Liquor while it is hot, into the shooting Trays or Pans, and do as you did in making Peter, saving that you must cover the Trays with a Cloth, for then the Liquor will begin to shoot at the bottom, which will make the Peter-Rock into much fairer Crystals, than otherwise it would: When no more Peter will shoot (which is commonly after two days,) pour off the Liquor that swims at the top, and put the Peter into a Tub with a hole at the bottom for to drain, and when it is dry, it is fit for use.  
The Figure of the Crystals is Sexangular, and if it hath rightly shot, is fistulous and hollow like a Pipe.  
Before I proceed to tell you, how this darling of Nature (the very Basis and Generation of Nutriment) is converted into Gunpowder (the most fatal Instrument of Death that ever Mankind was trusted withal) I will crave leave to acquaint you with a few Speculations I have of this Salt, which if I could clearly make out, would lead us into the knowledge of many noble Secrets in Nature; as also to a great improvement in the Art of making Salt-Peter.  
First than you are to observe, that though Peter go always in Gunpowder, yet if you fulminate it in a Crucible, and burn of the volatile part with Powder of Coal, Brimstone, Antimony or Meal, there will remain a Salt, and yet so fixed (very unlike Common-Salt) that it will endure the force of almost the strongest Fire you can give it; which being dissolved into Water and Spirit of Nitre dropped into it, till it give over hissing (which is the same with the Volatile part that was separated from it in the fulmination) it will be again reduced to Crystals of Peter, as it was at first, which noble Experiment the World hath already been taught by an honourable Member of this Society; with a train of such important Observations, as never before were raised from one Experiment.  
That which I aim at then is, that if the Spirit of the Volatile Salt of Soot, or of the Urine, Blood, Horns, Hoofs, Hair, Excrements, or indeed any part of Animals, (for all abound with such a Volatile Salt fixed, and Oil as Peter doth) could by the same way or any like it, be reduced to Peter or some Nitrous Salt not much differing from it: It would excellently make out a Theory that I am much delighted with, till I am convinced in it; which is, that the Salt which is found in Vegetables and Animals, is but the Nitre which is so universally diffused through all the Elements, (and must therefore make a chief Ingredient in their Nutritriment, and by consequence of their Generation) a little altered from its first Complexion: And that the reason why Animals that feed on Vegetables are obliged by Nature, to longer meals than those that feed on other Animals; is, because Animals are fuller of that Salt than Vegetables: And indeed such Animals are but Caterers of it for Man; and others whom Nature's bounty gratifies with a more lusty and delicious Diet.  
I confess I have been the more confirmed in this fancy, since I have often seen a Friend of mine, with a Natural and Facile 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, convert the greater part of Peter, into a Salt so like the Volatile Salt of Urine, that they are Scarce to be distinguished by smell or taste, and yet he adds nothing to it that can possibly be suspected to participate of that Nature: But indeed all Volatile Salts are so alike, that it is not easy to distinguish them in any respect.    

THE HISTORY Of Making GUNPOWDER.  
THE materials of Gunpowder are, Salt-Peter, Brimstone, and Coal; the Peter and Brimstone must be both refined if you mean to make good Powder, and the Coal must be Withy and Alder equal parts; for Withy alone is counted too soft, and some do commend Hazle alone to be as good as the other two.  
The whole Secret of the Art consists in the proportion of the Materials, the exact mixture of them, that in every the least part of Powder may be found all the Materials in their just proportion; then the Corning or making of it into Grains; and lastly the Drying and Dusting of it.  
The Proportion is very differently set down by several Authors; Baptista Porta tells us the ordinary Powder is made of Four parts of Peter, one of Sulphur, and one of Withy Coal: But the best Powder of 6, or 8. of Peter, and one a piece of the other, which agrees pretty well with Bonfadini a late Italian Writer, in his Book of the Art of Shooting flying, where to make the best Gunpowder he prescribes Seven parts of Peter, one of Brimstone, and of Hazle Coal an ounce less in every pound: Cardan says; Constat ex tribus Halinitri partibus, duabus Saligni Carbonis atque una Sulphuris, Convenitque magnis Machinis: Sed Mediocribus Halinitri partes decem, Saligni carbonis tres, Sulphuris duas, parvis verò Halinitri partes decem; Carbonis ligni nucis Avellonae sine nodis, tum Sulphuris partem unam singularem: Langius appoints three of Peter, two of Withy Coal, and one of Brimstone: The English Author of Fire-Works says, that the proportions in England to make good, indifferent, and ordinary Powder is, 5.4. and 3. parts of Peter, to two of Coal and one of Brimstone. Our English Workmen are generally so curious of their secret, that I could not obtain the proportion of them without a promise of Secrecy: But when all is done their secret is not so much the way to make the best Powder, as the best way to get most money by it; by substracting from the Peter, and making up weight with the Coal; when indeed there is so great a Latitude, that provided the Materials be perfectly mixed, you make good Powder with any of the proportions above mentioned; but the more Peter you allow it, it will still be the better, till you come to observe Eight parts.  
The next thing after the proportion, is the mixture, about which most of the workmen's time and pains is bestowed: For first in a Horse-mill with two stones (like that with which they grind their Materials at the Glass-house) moving upon a Marble bottom, which is edged with boards set sloping, that what slips from under the stones may slide back again.  
They grind the Brimstone and Coal each of them apart by themselves as fine as possibly they can; then they sift each of them apart by themselves: The Brimstone is sifted thorough Tiffany in a Bolting-mill, such as the Baker's use for wheat-flower: The Coal is sifted thorough Lockram, in a bag made like a shirt sleeve; for the convenience of the Workman it is done in a close Been, with only two holes for him to put his arms in and shake the bag about. Whatsoever of each material is not small enough to sift thorough, is brought again to the Mill to be new ground.  
As for the Peter, that must in the Copper be dissolved in as much water as will just take it up, and then the water must be boiled away till the Peter comes to the thickness of hasty-pudding. The reason of this operation is, because when the Peter is thus soft, the other materials will the easilier incorporate with it, and in the next place it will not wear the wooden pestles so much when it comes to the Mill, as when it is hard and dry.  
When the Materials are in this readiness, they are weighed (only the Peter is weighed before it is put to dissolve in the Copper) and by proportion are carried to the mingling Trough, which is made of boards, like a great Chest without a cover, being about eight foot long, four broad, and three foot high. The Coal is laid in first, the Brimstone next, and the Peter at top of all; Then two men with shovels stir and mingle them together for an hour, and then 'tis ready for the Mill.  
The Powder-mills are seldom made to move with any thing but water: The great water-wheel is made like that of an ordinary water-wheel, either over-shot or under-shot, according to the quantity of water they have: to the axis of this wheel, a little way within the Mill, is fastened a lesser wheel called the Spar-wheel, with strong Clogs, which in their motion round take hold of the round slaves of another wheel of about the same diameter, set a little way above it, and fastened to the end of a beam of 15 or 16 foot long, laid parallel to the Horizon, with an iron gudgeon at the other end of it, to facilitate its motion round: This beam is called the round beam; out of it come a certain number of arms of about nine inches long▪ and three inches broad, which in their going round meet with other lesser arms (called Tapes) coming out of the Pestles (for so they call certain small quarters of Timber placed perpendicular to the Horizon, about nine foot long and four inches broad; they are set in a slight frame to keep them steady); by these small arms the Pestles are lifted up about two foot and a half, and then let fall into a strong wooden Trough set under them, wherein the powder is put to be pounded.  
Every Mill hath two Troughs, and about sixteen Pestles: every Pestle hath fastened to the lower end of it a round piece of Lignum Vitae, of about five inches long and three and a half diameter; and into the bottom of the Trough, just where the Pestle is to fall, is let in another piece of Lignum Vitae, of the fashion and bigness of an ordinary Bowl, split according to its longest diameter: The Pestles are not lifted up all together, but alternatively, to make the Powder turn the better in the working; and for the same reason round Troughs are counted better than square.  
To make excellent Powder it ought to be wrought thus thirty hours; but of late they will not afford it above eighteen or twenty hours: once in eight hours they use to moisten the Powder with a little fair water; others who are more curious, put water something thickened with quicklime; others use White-wine Vinegar; others Aquavitae: But if it be not moistened with something once in eight hours, the Powder will grow dry, and in half an hour after it will take fire. As soon as the Powder grows dry, you may find it, though at a distance, by the noise of the Mill; for then the Pestles will rebound from the bottom of the Trough and make a double stroke. The only danger to the Mill is not from the Trough; for many times the iron Gudgeons grow hot for want of greasing, and then the dust that flies about will be apt to fire, and so the Mill blows up.  
From the Mill the Powder is brought to the Corning-house, of a middle temper between moist and dry. The way of corning it is with two hair Sieves joined together, the upper Sieve enclosing some part of the hoop of the lower Sieve: The upper Sieve hath holes of the size you will have the Powder grained at; the holes of the lower Sieve are much lesser: The upper Sieve they call their corning Sieve, the lower their wet Duster: They lay the Powder upon the upper Sieve some two inches thick; upon that a piece of heavy wood made like a Trencher, of about eight inches diameter and two and a half in thickness, called a Runner, which when the Sieve is moved, by its weight and motion forces the Powder thorough the upper Sieve, and that corns it. Then the lower Sieve receives the Powder, and lets the dust go thorough into a Been, over which the Sieve is shaken, called the Dusting-Bin.  
When the Powder is thus corned, it is laid about an inch and half thick on the drying Sieves, which are made of course Canvas fastened to slight frames of Deal about an ell long and some twenty inches broad; and thus it is carried into Stoves to dry.  
The Stove is commonly a little Room about eighteen or twenty foot square, with ranges of small Fir poles about two foot one above another, to lay the drying Sieves upon, but only on that side the fire is made. Besides a glass window to give light, there must be a small lover hole at the top of the Room, to let out the steam, else the Powder will not only be the longer a drying, but often by the return of the steam on the Sieves, the top of the Powder will be so crusted that the lower part will not dry. The Rome is heated by an Iron of about a yard high and half a yard broad, cast in the form of an Arch equal to a Semy-quadrant, and placed in the back of a Chimney, the fore part whereof is like a Furnace; and to avoid danger, opens into another little Room apart called the Stoke-hole.  
The Powder is brought into the Stove before it be heated, and is not taken out again till the Stove be cold; and about eight hours is required to the drying of it. In hot Countries the Sun is the best Stove, and a great deal of danger and charges that way avoided.  
After the Powder is dried, it is brought again to the Corning-house, where it is again sifted over the dusting Been in other double Sieves, but without any Runners. These Sieves have both of them smaller holes than the former: The upper Sieve is called the Separater, and serves to divide the great corns from the lesser; the great corns are put by themselves, and serve for Cannon Powder: The lower Sieve is called the dry Duster, and retains the small corns (which serve for Musket and Pistol) and le's fall the dust into the been, which is to be mingled with fresh Materials, and again wrought over in the Mill.  
So that good Powder differs from bad (besides the well working and mingling of the Materials) in having more Peter and less Coal; and lastly, in the well dusting of it.  
The last work is to put the Powder into Barrels; every Barrel is to contain five score weight of Powder, and then 'tis ready for sale.   

AN APPARATUS TO THE HISTORY Of the Common Practices of DYING. By Sir WILLIAM PETTY.  
IT were not incongruous to begin the History with a Retrospect into the very nature of Light itself (as to inquire whether the same be a Motion or else a Body;) nor to premise some Theorems about the Sun, Flame, Glow-worm's, the eyes of some Animals, shining Woods, Scales of some Fishes, the dashing of the Sea, strokes upon the eyes, the Bolonian Slate (called by some the Magnet of Light) and of other light and lucid bodies.  
It were also not improper to consider the very essentials of Colour and Transparencies (as that the most transparent bodies, if shaped into many angles, present the eye with very many colours;) That bodies having but one single superficies, have none at all, but are suscipient of every colour laid before them; That great depths of Air make a Blue, and great depths of Water a Greenish colour; That great depths or thicknesses of coloured Liquors do all look Blackish (red Wine in a large Conical Glass being of all reddish colours between black at the top and white at the bottom.  
That most Vegetables, at one time or other, are greenish; and that as many things passing the Sun are blackened, so many others much whitened by the same: Other things are whitened by acid Fumes, as red Roses and raw Silks by the smoke of Brimstone.  
Many Metals, as Steel and Silver, become of various colours and Tarnish by the air, and by several degrees of heat.  
We might consider the wonderful variety of colours appearing in Flowers, Feathers; and drawn from Metals, their Calces and Vitrifications; and of the colours rising out of transparent Liquors artificially mixed.  
But these things, relating to the abstracted nature of colours, being too hard for me, I wholly decline; rather passing to name (and but to name) some of the several sorts of Colorations now commonly used in Humane affairs, and as vulgar Trades in these Nations; which are these: viz.  

1. There is a whitening of Wax, and several sort of Linen and Cotton clothes, by the Sun, Air, and by reciprocal effusions of Water.  
2. Colouring of Wood and Leather by Lime, Salt, and Liquors, as in Staves, Canes, and Marble Leathers.  
3. Colouring of Paper, viz. Marbled Paper, by distempering the colours with Oxgall, and applying them upon a stiff gummed Liquor.  
4. Colouring, or rather Discolouring the colours of Silks, Tiffanies, etc. by Brimstone.  
5. Colouring of several Iron and Copper work, into Black, with Oil.  
6. Colouring of Leather into Gold-colour, or rather Silver leaves into Gold by Varnishes, and in other cases by Urine and Sulphur.  
7. Dying of Marble and Alabaster with heat and coloured Oils.  
8. Colouring Silver into Brass with Brimstone or Urine.  
9 Colouring the Barrels and Locks of Guns into Blue and Purple with the temper of Small-coal heat.  
10. Colouring of Glass (made of Sands, Flints, etc.) as also of Crystals and Earthen Ware, with the rusts and solutions of Metals.  
11. The colouring of live Hair, as in Poland, Horse and Man's Hair; as also the colouring of Furs.  
12." Enameling and Anealing.  
13. Applying Colours as in the Printing of Books and Pictures, and as in making of playing Cards; being each of them performed in a several way.  
14. Guilding and Tinning with Mercury, Block-Tin, Sal-Armoniack.  
15. Colouring Metals, as Copper with Calamy into Brass, and with Zink or Spelter into Gold, or into Silver with Arsenic: And of Iron into Copper with Hungarian Vitriol.  
16. Making Painters Colours by preparing of Earth, Chalk, and Slates; as in Umber, Ochre, Cullen-earth, etc. as also out of the Calces of Lead, as Ceruse and Minium; by Sublimates of Mercury and Brimstone, as in Vermilion; by ting of white Earth's variously, as in Verdeter, and some of the Lakes; by concrete Juices or Faeculae, as in Gambrugium, Indigo, Pinks, Sap-green, and Lakes: As also by Rusts, as in Verdegrease, &c,  
17. The applying of these colours by the adhesion of Oxgall, as in the Marbled Paper aforesaid; or by Gum water, as in Limning; or by clammy drying Oils, (such as are the Oils of Linseed, Nuts, Spike, Turpentine, etc.)  
18." Watering of Tabbies.  
19 The last I shall name is the colouring of Wool, Linen, Cotton, Silk, Hair, Feathers, Horn, Leather, and the Threads and Webs of them with Woods, Roots, Herbs, Seeds, Leaves, Salts, Limbs, Lixiviums, Waters, Heats, Fermentations, Macerations, and other great variety of Handling: An account of all which is that History of Dying we intent. All that we have hitherto said being but a kind of remote and scarce pertinent Introduction thereunto.   
I begin this History by enumerating all the several Materials and Ingredients which I understand to be or to have been used in any of the last aforementioned Colorations, which I shall represent in various Methods, viz. out of the Mineral Family. They use Iron and Steel, or what is made or comes from them, in all true Blacks (called Spanish Blacks) though not in Flanders Blacks; viz. they use Copperas, Steel-filings, and Slip, which is the stuff found in the Troughs of Grind-stones, whereon Edgetools have been ground. They also use Pewter for Bow-dye, Scarlet, viz. they dissolve Bars of Pewter in the Aqua fortis they use; and make also their Dying-kettles or Furnace of this Metal.  
lethargy is used by some, though acknowledged by few, for what necessary reason I cannot learn, other than to add weight unto Dyed Silk; Litharge being a calx of Lead, one of the heaviest and most colouring Metals.  
I apprehend Antimony much used to the same purpose, though we know there be a very tingent Sulphur in that Mineral, which affordeth variety of Colour by the precipitations and other operations upon it.  
Arsenic is used in Crimson, upon pretence of giving Lustre, although those who pretend not to be wanting in giving Lustre to their Silks, do utterly disown the use of Arsenic.  
Verdegrease is used by Linen Dyers in their Yellow and Greenish Colours, although of itself it strike not deeper colour than of pale Straws.  
Of Mineral-Salts used in Dying; the chief is Alum; the very true use thereof seems to me obscure enough, notwithstanding all the Narrations I could get from Dyers about it: For I doubt, 

1. Whether it be used to make Common-water a fit Menstruum, wherewith to extract the Tingent particles of several hard Materials; for I find Alum to be used with such Materials as spend easy enough, as Brasill, Logwood, etc. And withal, that the Stuffs to be died are first boiled in Allum-liquors, and the Alum afterwards (as they say) cleared from the said Stuff again, before any Colour at all be applied.  
2. Whether it be used to scour the Sordes, which may interpose between the Coloranda, and the Dying Stuff; and so hinder the due adhesion of the one unto the other: The boiling of several things first in Alum seeming to tend this way. But I find this work to be done in Cloth and Rugs, by a due scouring of the same in the Fulling-mills with Earth, and in Silk with Soaps, by which they boil out the Gums and other Sordes, hindering or vitiating the intended Colours.  
3. Whether Alum doth intenerate the Hairs of Wool, and Hair-stuff, as Grograins, etc. Whereby they may the better, receive and imbibe their Colours? Unto which opinion I was led by the Dyers; saying, that after their Stuffs were well boiled in Alum, that they then cleared them of the Alum again: But we find the most open Bodied-Cottons and Silks, to have Alum used upon them; as well as the harder Hairs. Nor is Alum used in many Colours, viz. In no Woad or Indigo Blews; and yet the Stuffs Died Blue, are without any previous inteneration quickly tinged; and that with a slight and short immersion thereof into the Blue fat.  
4. Whether it contribute to the Colour itself, as Copperas doth to Galls, in order to make a black; or as Juice of Lemmons doth to Cocheneel in the Incarnadives; or as Aqua-Fortis impregnated with Pewter, doth in the Bow-Scarlet, changing it from a red Rose-Crimson to flame Colour. This use is certainly not to be denied to Alum in some cases; but we see in other cases, that the same Colours may be Died without Alum, as well as with it, though neither so bright and lively, nor so lasting.  
5. Wherefore Fifthly, I conclude (as the most probable opinion) that the use of Alum is to be a Vinculum between the Cloth and the Colour, as clammy-Oyls and Gum-waters are in Painting and Limming; Alum being such a thing, whose particles and Aculei dissolved with hot Liquors will stick to the Stuffs, and pitch themselves into their Pores; and such also, as on which the particles of the Dying Drugs will also catch hold, as we see the particles of Copperas and other Crystallizing materials, do of Boughs and Twigs in the Vessel, where such Crystallization is made. A second use I imagine of Alum in Dying, to be the extracting or drying up of some such particles, as could not consist with the Colour to be superinduced, for we see Alum is used in the dressing of Alutas or white Leather, the which it drieth, as the Salt of Hen-dung doth in Ox-hides, and as common Salt doth in preservation of Flesh-meats; for we know, a Sheepskin newly flayed could not be Coloured as Brasils are, unless it were first dressed into Leather with Alum, etc. which is necessary to the Colour, even although the Alum be, as it is, cleared out of the Leather again, before the said Colouration, with Bran, yolks of Eggs, etc. Wherefore as Alum, as it were by accident, makes a wet raw skin to take a bright Colour by extracting some impedimental particles out of it; so doth it also out of other materials, though perhaps less discernably.    
Another use I suppose of Alum, which is to brighten a Colour: For as we see the finest and most Glassy materials to make the most orient Colours, as Feathers, Flowers, etc. So certainly if by boiling Cloth in Alum, it become incrustated with particles, as it were of Glass, the ting of them yields more brightness, than the ting of a Scabrous matter, (such as unallumed Cloth is) can do. Analogous' hereunto I take the use of Bran, and Bran-liquors in Dying to be; for Bran yielding a most fine flower (as we see in the making of white-Starch;) I conceive that this flower entering into the pores of the Stuff, levigates their Superficies and and so makes the Colour laid on it, the more beautiful, just as we see, that all woods, which are to be guilded are first smoothned over with white Colours, before the Gold be laid on.  
And indeed all other Woods are filled, not only as to their greater holes and Asperities, with Putty; but also their smaller Scabrities are cured by priming Colours, before the Ultimate Colour intended be laid thereon.  
The next Mineral Salt is Salt-Peter, not used by ancient Dyers, and but by few of the modern. And that not, till the wonderful use of Aquafortis (whereof Salt-Peter is an ingredient) was observed in the Bow-Scarlet: Nor is it used now, but to brighten Colours by back-boyling them; for which use Argol is more commonly used. Lime is much used in the working of blew-fats, being of Limestone calcined and called Calke, of which more hereafter.  
Of the Animal family are used about Dying, Cochineel (if the same be any part of an Animal) Urine of labouring men, kept till it be stale and stinking; Honey, Yolks of Eggs, and Oxgall. The three latter so rarely; and as the conceits of particular Workmen, and for Collateral uses (as to increase weight, promote fermentation, and to scour, etc.) That I shall say very little more of them in this place, only saying of Urine that it is used to scour, and help the fermenting and heating of Woad; it is used also in the blew-fats instead of Lime: It dischargeth the yellow (of which and blue, most Greene's are compounded) and therefore is always used to spend Weld withal. Lastly, the stale Urine, or old mud of pissing places, will colour a well scoured small piece of Silver, into a Golden colour, and it is with this (and not at all with the Bathwater) wherewith the Boys at Bath colour single pence; although the generality believe otherwise. Lastly it seems to me, that Urine agreeth much in its Nature with Tartarous Lixivia; not only because Urine is a Lie made of Vegetables in the body of Animals; nor because in the Receptacles of Urine, Tartarous stones are bred like as in Vessels of Wine; nor because Urine discharges and abrades Colours as the Lixivia of Tartar, or the deliquated Salts of Tartar do; but because Tartar and Sulphur-Lixivia do colour the superficies of Silver, as we affirmed of Urine; and the difference I make between Urine and Tartarous Lixivia is only this, that though the Salts of both of them seem by their effects in Dying, in a manner the same; yet that Urine is made and consists of Salt and Sulphur both.  
Before we enter upon the Vegetable materials for Dying, we may interpose this Advertisement, That there are two sorts of Water used by Dyers, viz. Riverwater and Well-water: By the latter I mean in this place the Pump water in great Cities and Towns, which is a harsh Water wherewith one can scarce wash ones hands, much less scour them clean; nor will Soap dissolve in it, but remains in rolls and lumps: moreover the Flesh boiled in it becomes hard and reddish. The Springs rising out of large covered spaces (such as are great Cities) yield this Water, as having been percolated thorough more ground than other Water, and consequently been divested of its fatty earthy particles, and more impregnated with saline substances in all the way it hath passed. The Dyers use this Water in Reds, and in other colours wanting restringency, and in the Dying of Materials of the slacker Contextures, as in calico, Fustian, and the several species of Cotton-works. This Water is naught for Blews, and makes Yellows and Greene's look rusty.  
Riverwater is far more fat and oily, sweeter, bears Soap; that is, Soap dissolves more easily in it, rising into froth and bubbles, so as the Water thickens by it. This Water is used in most cases by Dyers, and must be had in great quantities for washing and rinsing their clothes after Dying.  
Water is called by Dyers White Liquor; but there is another sort of Liquor called Liquor absolutely, and that is their Bran-liquor, which is one part of Bran and five of Riverwater, boiled together an hour, and put into leaden Cisterns to settle. This Liquor when it turns sour is not good, which sourness will be within three or four days in the Summer time. Besides the uses afore-named of this Liquor, I conceive it contributes something to the holding of the Colour; for we know Starch, which is nothing but the flower of Bran, will make a clinging Paste, the which will conglutinate some things, though not every thing; viz. Paper, though neither Wood nor Metals. Now Bran-liquors are used to mealy dying Stuffs, such as Mather is, being the Powder or fecula of a Root; So as the flower of the Bran being joined with the Mather, and made clammy and glutinous by boiling, I doubt not but both sticking upon the villi of the Stuff Dyed, the Mather sticks the better by reason of the starchy pastiness of the Bran-flower joined with it.  
Gums have been used by Dyers about Silk, viz. Gum Arabic, Gum Dragant, Mastic, and Sanguis Draconis. These Gums tend little to the tincture of the said Silk, no more than Gum doth in ordinary writing Ink, which only gives it a consistence to stay just where the Pen delivers it, without running abroad uncertainly: So Gum may give the Silk a glassiness, that is, may make it seem finer, as also stiffer; so as to make one believe the said stiffness proceeded from the quantity of Silk close woven: And lastly to increase weight; for if an ounce of Gum, worth a penny, can be incorporated into a pound of Silk, the said penny in the Gum produceth three shillings, the price of an ounce of Silk. Wherefore we shall speak of the use of each of the said four Gums, rather when we treat of Sising and Stiffening, than now, in a Discourse of Dying, where also we may speak of Honey and Molasses.  
We refer also the Descriptions of Fullers-earth, Soaps, linseed-oil, and Oxgalls, unto the head of Scouring, rather than to this of Dying.  
Wines and Aquavitae have been used by some particular Artists; but the use of them being neither constant nor certain, I omit further mention of them. The like I say of Wheaten-flower and Leaven.  
Of Cummin-seed, Fenugreekseed, Senna, and Agarick, I have as yet no satisfactory account.  
Having spoken thus far of some of the Dying stuffs, before I engage upon the main, and speak more fully of those which have been but slightly touched upon already, I shall more Synoptically here insert a Catalogue of all Dying Materials, as well such as I have already treated upon, as such as I intent hereafter to describe.  
The three peculiar Ingredients for Black are Copperas, filings of Steel, and Slip.  
The Restringent binding Materials are Alder, Bark, Pomegranate Pills, Wallnut rinds and roots, Oaken Sapling Bark, and Sawdust of the same; Crabtree Bark, Galls, and Sumach.  
The Salts are Alum, Argol, Salt-peter, Sal Armoniac, Pot-ashes, and Stone-lime; unto which Urine may be enumerated as a liquid Salt.  
The Liquors are Well-water, Riverwater, Wine, Aquavitae, Vinegar, juice of Lemmon, and Aquafortis: There is Honey used, and Molasses.  
Ingredients of another Classis are Bran, Wheaten-flower, Yolks of Eggs, Leaven, Cummin-seed, Fenugreekseed, Agarick, and Senna.  
Gums are Gum Arabic, Dragant, Mastic, and Sanguis Draconis.  
The Smecticks or Abstersives are Fullers-earth, Soap, linseed-oil, and Oxgall.  
The other Metals and Minerals are Pewter, Verdegrease, Antimony, lethargy, and Arsenic.  
But the Colorantia colorata are of three sorts, viz. Blue, Yellow, and Red; of which Logwood, old Fustick, and Mather, are the Polychresta in the present & common practices, being one of each sort. The Blews are Woad, Indigo, and Logwood: The Yellows are Weld, Wood-wax, and old Fustick, as also Turmerick now seldom used: The Reds are Redwood, Brazel, Mather, Cochineel, Safflowrs, Kermes-berries, and Sanders; the latter of which is seldom used, and the Kermes not often. Unto these Arnotto and young Fustick, making Orange colours, may be added, as often used in these times.  
" In Cloth Dying wood-soot is of good use.  
Having presented this Catalogue, I come now to give or enlarge the Description and Application of some of the chief of them, beginning with Copperas.  
Copperas is the common thing used to die Blacks withal, and it is the salt of the Pyrites stone, wherewith old Iron (having been dissolved in it) is incorporated. The filings of Steel, and such small particles of Edgetools as are worn away upon the Grindstone, commonly called Slipp, is used to the same purpose in dying of Silks (as was said before) which I conceive to be rather to increase the weight than for any other necessity; the particles of Copperas being not so heavy and crass as these are: for else why should not these later-named Materials be as well used about Cloth, and other cheaper Stuffs?  
We observe, That green Oaken-boards by affriction of a Saw become black; and that a green sour Apple, cut with a knife, becomes likewise black; and that the white grease wherewith Coach-wheels are anointed becomes likewise black, by reason of the iron boxes wherewith the Nave is lined, besides the ustulation or affriction between the Nave and the Axletree. Moreover we observe, That an Oaken stick, by a violent affriction upon other wood in a Turning-Lath, makes the same black.  
From all which we may observe, That the whole business of Blacking lies in the Iron, as if the salt of the Pyrites-stone in Copperas served only to extract the same; and withal it seems to lie in a kind of singeing and ustulation, such as rapid affrictions do cause: For Alum seems to be of the same nature with Vitriol; and yet in no case that I know of is, it is used for black colours: And the black colour upon earthen Ware is made with scale of Iron vitrified. Note, That wherever Copperas is used, either Galls, Sumach, Oak-Sapling-barks, Alder-bark, Wallnut-rinds, Crabtree-bark, or green Oak sawdust, must be used with it; All which things Physicians call Austere and Styptic.  
Redwood must be chopped into small pieces, than ground in a Mill between two heavy stones, as corn is. It is used also in Dying of Cloth and Rugs, and those of the Courser sort: The colour is extracted with much and long boiling, and that with Galls. The colour it makes is a kind of Brick-colour-Red; it holdeth much better than Brasil. The Cloth it dyeth is to be boiled with it: Wherefore only such matters as are not prejudiced by much boiling are died herewith.  
Brasil is chopped and ground like as the Redwood: It dyeth a Pink-colour or Carnation, imitating the colour of Cochineil the nearest: It is used with Alum for the ordinary colour it dyeth; and with addition of Pot-ashes, when it is used for Purples.  
Brasil steeped in Water giveth it the colour of Claret-wine, into which a drop or two of Juice of Lemons or Vinegar being put, turneth it into the colour of Canary-Sack; in which particular it agreeth with Cochineil. This Colour soon staineth, as may appear by the easy change which so small a quantity of acid liquor makes upon it. A drop of Spirit of Vitriol turneth the infusion of Brasil into a purplish violet-colour, even although it hath been made yellow before, by the addition of Juice of Lemons or Vinegar; and is the same effect which Pot-ashes also produce, as we said before.  
Mather is a Root cultivated much in Flanders: There be of it two sorts; Pipe-Mather, which is the coursest; and Bale-Mather, otherwise called Crap-Mather: This Mather used to the best advantage, dyeth on Cloth a colour the nearest to our Bow-dye, or the new Scarlet; the like whereof Safflowr doth in Silk; insomuch as the colours called Bastard-Scarlets are died with it. This colour endures much boiling, and is used both with Alum and Argol; it holdeth well. The brightest colours died with this material are made by over-dying the same, and then by discharging part of it by back-boyling it in Argol.  
Mather is used with Bran-liquor, instead of White-liquor or ordinary Water.  
Cochineel is of several sorts, viz. Silvester and Mestequa: This also is used with Bran-liquor in Pewter-Furnaces, and with Aquafortis, in order to the Scarlet-dye. It is the colour whereof the like quantity effecteth most in Dying; and Colours died with it, are said to be died in Grain. Rags died in the dregs of this colour is called Turnsole, and 'tis used to colour Wines; Cochineel being counted so far from an unwholesome thing, that it is esteemed a Cordial. Any acid Liquor takes off the intense Redness of this colour, turning it towards an Orange, Flame, or Scarlet-colour: With this colour also the Spanish Leather and Flocks are died which Ladies use. The extract or fecula hereof makes the finest Lake.  
Arnotto Dyeth of itself an Orang-colour, is used with Pot-ashes upon Silk, Linen, and Cottons, but not upon Cloth, as being not apt to penetrate into a thick substance.  
Weld, called in Latin Luteola; when 'tis ripe (that is to say, in the flower) it Dyeth (with the help of Pot-ashes) a deep Lemon colour, like unto Ranunculus, or Broom flower; and either by the smallness of proportion put into the Liquor, or else by the slighter tincture, it Dyeth all Colours between White and the Yellow aforesaid.  
In the use of this material, Dyers use a cross, driven down into their Furnace with a screw to keep it down, so as the Cloth may have liberty in the supernatant Liquor, to be turned upon the Winch and kept out with the staves: This weed is much cultivated in Kent, for the use of the London-Dyers, it holdeth sufficiently well but against Urine and Tartarous Liquors. Painter's Pink is made of it.  
Wood wax, or Genista Tinctoria (commonly called Grasing-weed by the Dyers,) produces the same effect with Luteola, being used in greater quantities: It is seldom made use of as to Silk, Linen, or Cottons, but only as to course-Cloths: It is also set with Pot-ashes or Urine, called by the Dyers Siggefustick; of it there be two sorts, the young and the old: Fustick is chopped and ground, as the other Woods abovementioned are.  
The young Fustick Dyeth a kind of Reddish-Orang-colour; the old, a Hair-colour with several degrees of yellowness between: It is used with slacked Lime. The Colours Died with old Fustick hold extremely; and are not to be discharged, will spend with Salts or without, and will work hot or cold.  
Soot of Wood Soot containeth in itself both a Colour and Salt; wherefore there is nothing added to it to extract its Colour, nor to make it strike upon the Stuff to be Died; the natural Colour which it Dyeth of itself, is the Colour of Honey; but is the foundation of many other Colours upon Wool and Cloth; for to other things 'tis not used. Woad is made of a Weed, sown upon strong new-broken Land, perfectly cleared from all stones and weeds, cut several times by the top leaves, than ground, or rather chopped with a peculiar Mill for that purpose; which being done several times, it is made up in Balls and dried in the Sun; the dryer the year is, the better the Woad.  
When it is made up in Balls, it is broken again and laid in heaps, where if it heat to fast, it is sprinkled with ordinary water: but if it heat too slowly, than they throw on it a quantity of Lime, or Urine. But of the perfect cultivating and curing of Woad, we shall speak elsewhere.  
English Woad is counted the strongest, it is commonly tried by staining of white Paper with it, or a white Limed wall, and if the Colour be a French-green it is good.  
Woad in use, is used with Pot-ashes commonly called Ware, which if it be double refined, is called hard Ware (which is much the same with Kelp) or Seaweeds, calcined and burnt into the hardness of a stone, by reiterated Calcinations.  
Lime, or Calke which is strong Lime, is used to accelerate the fermentation of the Woad, which by the help of the same Pot-ashes and warm liquors kept always so, in three or four days will come to work like a Kive of Beer, and will have a blue or rather greenish froth or flowery upon it, answering to the Yeast of the Kive. Now the over quantity of Ware, fretting too much upon the Woad, is obtunded or dulled by throwing in Bran sometimes loose, sometimes in Baggs.  
The making and using Woad, is one of the most mysterious, nice, and hazardous operations in Dying: It is one of the most lasting Colours that is Died: An intense Woad-Colour is almost black, that is to say, of a Damson-colour; this Colour is the foundation of so many others in its degree, that the Dyers have a certain Scale, or number of Stalls, whereby to compute the lightness and deepness of this Colour.  
Indigo is made of a Weed of the same Nature with Woad, but more strong; and whereas Woad is the whole substance of the Herb, Indigo is only a mealy concrete juice or faecula dried in the Sun, sometimes made up in flat Cakes, sometimes into round-balls, there be several sorts of Indigo.  
Logwood is chopped and ground like other of the Woods abovementioned, it maketh a Purplishblew; may be used without Alum: It hath been esteemed a most false and fading Colour; but now being used with Galls, is far less complained of.   

General Observations upon DYING.  
FIrst, that all the materials (which of themselves do give Colour) are either Red, Yellow, or Blue, so that out of them, and the primitive fundamental Colour, White; all that great variety which we see in Dyed Stuffs doth arise.  
2. That few of the Coloring materials (as Cochineil, Soot, Wood wax, Woad,) are in their outward and first appearance of the same Colour, which by the slieghtest distempers and solutions in the weakest Menstrua, the die upon Cloth, Silk, etc.  
3. That many of the Colouring materials will not yield their Colours without much grinding, steeping, boiling, fermenting, or corrosion by powerful Menstrua; as Redwood, Weld, Woad, Arnotto, etc.  
4. That many of the said Coulouring materials will of themselves give no Colouring at all, as Copperas, or Galls, or with much disadvantage, unless the Cloth or other Stuff to be Died, be as it were, first covered or incrustated with some other matter, though Colour-less, aforehand, as Mather, Weld, Brasil with Alum.  
5. That some of the said Colouring materials, by the help of other Colour-less Ingredients, do strike different Colours from what they would alone, and of themselves; as Cochineil, Brasil, etc.  
6. That some Colours, as Mather, Indigo, and Woad, by reiterated tinctures, will at last become black.  
7. That although Green be the most frequent and common of natural Colours, yet there is no simple ingredient, which is now used alone, to Die Green with upon any Material; Sap green (being the condensated juice of the Rhamnous' Berry) being the nearest; the which is used by Country people.  
8. There is no Black thing in use which dies black; though both the coal and soot of most things burnt or scorched be of that colour; and the blacker, by how much the matter before it was burnt was whiter, as in the famous instance of Ivory-black.  
9 The Tincture of some Dying Stuffs will fade even with lying, or with the Air, or will slain even with Water; but very much with Wine, Vinegar, Urine, etc.  
10. Some of the Dyers Materials are used to bind and strengthen a Colour, some to brighten it, some to give lustre to the stuff, some to discharge and take off the colour either in whole or in part, and some out of fraud, to make the Material Dyed (if costly) to be heavyer.  
11. That some Dying Ingredients or Drugs, by the courseness of their bodies, make the thread of the died Stuff seem courser; and some by shrinking them, smaller, and some by levigating their Asperities, finer.  
12. Many of the same colours are died upon several Stuffs with several Materials; as Redwood used in Cloth, not in Silks; Arnotto in Silks, not in Cloth; and may be died at several prizes.  
13. That Scouring and Washing of Stuffs to be died, is to be done with special Materials; as sometimes with Oxgalls, sometimes with Fuller's earth, sometimes with Soap: This latter being pernicious in some cases, where Pot-ashes will slain or alter the colour.  
14. Where great quantities of Stuffs are to be died together, or where they are to be done with great speed, and where the pieces are very long, broad, thick, or otherwise, they are to be differently handled, both in respect to the Vessels and Ingredients.  
15. In some Colours and Stuffs the Tingent Liquor must be boiling; in other cases bloodwarm; in some it may be cold.  
16. Some Tingent Liquors are fitted for use by long keeping; and in some the virtue wears away by the same.  
17. Some Colours or Stuffs are best died by reiterated Dipping ever into the same Liquor at several distances of time; and some by continuing longer, and others lesser whiles therein.  
18. In some cases the matter of the Vessel wherein the Liquors are heated, and the Tinctures prepared, must be regarded; as the Kettles must be Pewter for Bow-dye.  
19 There is little reckoning made how much Liquor is used in proportion to the dying Drugs; the Liquor being rather adjusted to the bulk of the Stuff, as the Vessels are to the breadth of the same: The quantity of dying Drugs being proportioned to the colour higher or lower, and to the Stuffs both; as likewise the Salts are to dying Drugs.  
Concerning the weight which Colours give to Silk (for in them 'tis most taken notice of, as being sold by weight, and being a Commodity of great price:) It is observed, That one pound of raw Silk loseth four ounces by washing out the Gums and natural Sordes.  
That the same scoured Silk may be raised to above thirty ounces from the remaining twelve, if it be died black with some Materials.  
The reason why Black colour may be most heavy died, being because all gravitating Drugs may be died black, being all of colours lighter than it: whereas perhaps there are few or no Materials wherewith to increase the weight of Silk, which will consist with fair light colours; such as will having been used, as white Arsenic to Incarnadives. Of a thing truly useful in Dying, especially of Blacks, nothing increases weight so much as Galls, by reason whereof Black Silks are restored to as much weight as they lost by washing out their Gum: Nor is it counted extraordinary, that Blacks should gain about four or six ounces in the Dying upon each pound.  
Next to Galls old Fustick increases the weight about 1 ½ in 12.  
Mather about one ounce.  
Weld half an ounce.  
The Blew-fat, in deep Blews of the fifth stall, gives no considerable weight.  
Neither doth Logwood, Cochineel, nor Arnotto: Nor doth Copperas itself, where Galls are not.  
I conceive much light would be given to the Philosophy of Dying, by careful Experiments of the weight added by each Drug or Salt in Dying of every colour.  
Slipp adds much to the weight, and giveth a deeper Black than Copperas itself; which is a good excuse for the Dyers that use it.  
I have hitherto but mentioned the several Colorations used in Humane Affairs, Enumerated the several Materials used in one of them, namely, Dying; and imperfectly described the several uses and applications of them in Dying. I have also set down some general Observations relating to that whole Trade. It remains now that we describe the several Vessels, Tools, and Utensils used in the same. And particularly to show how any Colour assigned may be superinduced upon any kind of Material, as Wool, Linen, Hair, Feathers, Cotton or Silk: And with what Advantages or Disadvantages of Lasting, Brightness, Cheapness, and Variety, etc. each may be performed. But this being infinite, and almost unteachable by words, as being incomparably more difficult, than how to imitate and compose any Colour assigned, out of the few, usually furnishing a Painters-palat; I leave the whole to the further consideration of this Learned Society.   

THE HISTORY Of the Generation and Ordering of GREEN-OYSTERS, Commonly called Colchester-Oysters.  
IN the Month of May the Oysters cast their Spaun (which the Dredgers call their Spat;) it is like to a drop of Candle, and about the bigness of a halfpenny.  
The Spat cleaves to Stones, old Oyster-shells, pieces of Wood, and such like things, at the bottom of the Sea, which they call Cultch.  
'Tis probably conjectured, that the Spat in twenty four hours begins to have a Shell.  
In the Month of May the Dredgers (by the Law of the Admiralty Court) have liberty to catch all manner of Oysters, of what size soever.  
When they have taken them, with a knife they gently raise the small brood from the Cultch, and then they throw the Cultch in again, to preserve the ground for the future, unless they be so newly Spat that they cannot be safely severed from the Cultch, in that case they are permitted to take the stone or shell, etc. that the Spat is upon, one Shell having many times 20 Spats.  
After the Month of May it is Felony to carry away the Cultch, and punishable to take any other Oysters, unless it be those of size (that is to say) about the bigness of an half Crown piece, or when the two shells being shut, a fair shilling will rattle between them.  
The places where these Oysters are chiefly catcht, are called the Pont-Burnham, Malden, and Colne-Waters; the latter taking its name from the River of Colne, which passeth by Colne-Chester, gives the name to that Town, and runs into a Creek of the Sea at a place called the Hythe, being the Suburbs of the Town.  
This Brood and other Oysters they carry to Creeks of the Sea at Brickel-Sea, Mersey, Langno, Fringrego, Wivenbo, Tolesbury, and Salt-coase, and there throw them into the Channel, which they call their Beds or Layers, where they grow and fatten, and in two or three years the smallest Brood will be Oysters of the size aforesaid.  
Those Oysters which they would have green, they put into Pits about three foot deep, in the Salt-Marshes, which are overflowed only at Springtides, to which they have Sluices, and let out the Salt-water until it is about a foot and half deep.  
These Pits from some quality in the Soil cooperating with the heat of the Sun, will become green, and communicate their colour to the Oysters that are put into them in four or five days, though they commonly let them continue there six Weeks, or two Months, in which time they will be of a dark green.  
To prove that the Sun operates in the greening, Tolesbury Pits will green only in Summer; but that the Earth hath the greater power, Brickel-sea Pits green both Winter and Summer: and for a further proof, a Pit within a foot of a greening Pit will not green; and those that did green very well, will in time lose their quality.  
The Oysters when the Tide comes in lie with their hollow shell downwards, and when it goes out they turn on the other side; they remove not from their place unless in cold weather, to cover themselves in the Ouse.  
The reason of the scarcity of Oysters, and consequently of their dearness, is, because they are of late years bought up by the Dutch.  
There are great penalties by the Admiralty-Court, laid upon those that fish out of those grounds which the Court appoints, or that destroy the Cultch, or that take any Oysters that are not of size, or that do not tread under their feet, or throw upon the shore, a Fish which they call a Five-finger, resembling, a Spur-rowel, because that Fish gets into the Oysters when they gape, and sucks them out.  
The reason why such a penalty is set upon any that shall destroy the Cultch, is because they find that if that be taken away the Ouse will increase, and then Muscles and Cockles will breed there, and destroy the Oysters, they having not whereon to stick their Spat.  
The Oysters are sick after they have Spat; but in june and july they begin to mend, and in August they are perfectly well: The Male- Oyster is black-sick, having a black substance in the Fin; the Female white-sick (as they term it) having a milky substance in the Fin. They are salt in the Pits, salter in the Layers, but saltest at Sea.  
In Composing Histories after this manner, they resolve to proceed, till they have not only obtained an Account of all the Great, and most substantial Trades; but also of all the less Works, and Private Productions, which are confined to some particular soils, or Corporations, or Families. As this Stock shall increase, they purpose to make it of General use; either by continual Printing the most remarkable of them, or by freely exposing them to the view of all, that desire such Informations; provided, that at the same time they receive some, they will also Communicate others: And they have assured grounds of confidence, that when this attempt shall be completed, it will be found to bring innumerable benefits to all practical Arts: When all the secrets of Manufactures shall be so discovered, their Materials described, their Instruments figured, their Products represented: It will soon be determined, how far they themselves may be promoted, and what new consequences may thence be deduced. Hereby we shall see whether all the parts of the most obvious Crafts have been brought to perfection; and whether they may not assist each other, more than has been hitherto endeavoured: Hereby we shall discern the compass, the power, the changes, the degrees, the ages of them all; and speedily understand, whether their effects have been large enough, and the ways of producing them sufficiently compendious. In short, by this help the worst Artificers will be well instructed, by considering the Methods, and Tools of the best: And the greatest Inventors will be exceedingly enlightened; because they will have in their view the labours of many men, many places, and many times, wherewith to compare their own. This is the surest, and most effectual means, to enlarge the Invention: whose Nature is such, that it is apt to increase, not only by men's beholding the Works of greater, but of equal, nay of less Wits than themselves.  
In the whole progress of this Narration, 
Sect. XL. The Conclusion of this Part.  I have been cautious to forbear Commending the labours of any Private Fellows of the Society. For this, I need not make any Apology to them; seeing it would have been an inconsiderable Honour, to be praised by so mean a Writer: But now I must break this Law, in the particular case of Dr. Christopher Wren: For doing so, I will not allege the excuse of my Friendship to him; though that perhaps were sufficient; and it might well be allowed me to take this occasion of Publishing it: But I only do it on the mere consideration of Justice: For in turning over the Registers of the Society, I perceived that many excellent things, whose first Invention ought to be ascribed to him, were casually omitted: This moves me to do him right by himself, and to give this separate Account of his endeavours, in promoting the Design of the Royal Society, in the small time wherein he has had the opportunity of attending it.  
The first instance I shall mention, to which he may lay peculiar claim, is the Doctrine of Motion, which is the most considerable of all others, for establishing the first Principles of Philosophy, by Geometrical Demonstrations. This Des Cartes had before begun, having taken up some Experiments of this kind, upon Conjecture, and made them the first Foundation of his whole Systeme of Nature: But some of his Conclusions seeming very questionable, because they were only derived from the gross Trials of Balls meeting one another at Tennis, and Billiards: Dr. Wren produced before the Society, an Instrument to represent the effects of all sorts of Impulses, made between two hard globous Bodies, either of equal, or of different bigness, and swiftness, following or meeting each other, or the one moving, the other at rest. From these varieties arose many unexpected effects; of all which he demonstrated the true Theories, after they had been confirmed by many hundreds of Experiments in that Instrument. These he proposed as the Principles of all Demonstrations in Natural Philosophy: Nor can it seem strange, that these Elements should be of such Universal use; if we consider that Generation, Corruption, Alteration, and all the Vicissitudes of Nature, are nothing else but the effects arising from the meeting of little Bodies, of differing Figures, Magnitudes, and Velocities.  
The Second Work which he has advanced, is the History of Seasons: which will be of admirable benefit to Mankind, if it shall be constantly pursued, and derived down to Posterity. His proposal therefore was, to comprehend a Diary of Wind, Wether, and other conditions of the Air, as to Heat, Cold, and Weight; and also a General Description of the Year, whether contagious or healthful to Men or Beasts; with an Account of Epidemical Diseases, of Blasts, Mildews, and other accidents, belonging to Grain, Cattle, Fish, Fowl, and Infects. And because the difficulty of a constant Observation of the Air, by Night, and Day seemed invincible, he therefore devised a Clock to be annexed to a Weathercock, which moved a rundle, covered with Paper, upon which the Clock moved a black-lead-Pensil; so that the Observer by the Traces of the Pencil on the Paper, might certainly conclude, what Winds had blown in his absence, for twelve hours' space: After a like manner he contrived a Thermometer to be its own Register: And because the usual Thermometers were not found to give a true measure of the extension of the Air, by reason that the accidental gravity of the liquor, as it lay higher or lower in the Glass, weighed unequally on the Air, and gave it a farther contraction or extension, over and above that which was produced by heat and cold; therefore he invented a Circular Thermometer, in which the liquor occasions no fallacy, but remains always in one height moving the whole Instrument, like a Wheel on its Axis.  
He has contrived an Instrument to measure the quantities of Rain that falls: This as soon as it is full, will pour out itself, and at the years end discover how much Rain has fallen on such a space of Land, or other hard superficies, in order to the Theory of Vapours, Rivers, Seas, etc.  
He has devised many subtle ways for the easier finding the gravity of the Atmosphere, the degrees of drought and moisture, and many of its other accidents. Amongst these Instruments there are Balances which are useful to other purposes, that show the weight of the Air by their spontaneous inclination.  
Amongst the new Discoveries of the Pendulum, these are to be attributed to him, that the Pendulum in its motion from rest to rest; that is, in one descent and ascent, moves unequally in equal times, according to a line of sins: That it would continue to more either in Circular, or Eliptical Motions; and such Vibrations would have the same Periods with those that are reciprocal; and that by a complication of several Pendulums depending one upon another, there might be represented motions like the Planetary Helical Motions, or more intricate: And yet that these Pendulums would discover without confusion (as the Planets do) three or four several Motions, acting upon one Body with differing Periods; and that there may be produced a Natural Standard for Measure from the Pendulum for vulgar use.  
He has invented many ways to make Astronomical Observations more accurate and easy: He has fitted and hung Quadrants, Sextants, and Radii, more commodiously than formerly: He has made two Telescopes, to open with a joint like a Sector, by which Observers may infallibly take a distance to half minutes, and find no difference in the same Observation reiterated several times; nor can any warping or luxation of the Instrument hinder the truth of it.  
He has added many sorts of Retes, Screws, and other devises to Telescopes, for taking small distances and apparent diamets to Seconds. He has made apertures to take in more or less light, as the Observer pleases, by opening and shutting like the pupil of the eye, the better to fit Glasses to Crepusculine Observations: He has added much to the Theory of Dioptrics; much to the Manufacture itself of grinding good Glasses. He has attempted, and not without success, the making of Glasses of other forms than Spherical. He has exactly measured and delineated the Spheres of the humours in the Eye, whose proportions one to another were only guessed at before. This accurate discussion produced the reason, why we see things erected, and that Reflection conduces as much to Vision as Refraction.  
He discoursed to them a Natural and easy Theory of Refraction, which exactly answered every Experiment. He fully demonstrated all Dioptrics in a few Propositions, showing not only (as in Keplers Dioptrics) the common properties of Glasses, but the proportions by which the individual Rays cut the Axis, and each other; upon which the Charges (as they are usually called) of Telescopes, or the proportion of the Eye-glasses and Apertures are demonstrably discovered.  
He has made constant Observations on Saturn; and a Theory of that Planet, truly answering all Observations, before the printed Discourse of Hugonius on that subject appeared.  
He has essayed to make a true Selenography by measure; the world having nothing yet but pictures, rather than Surveys or Maps of the Moon. He has stated the Theory of the Moon's Libration, as far as his Observations could carry him. He has composed a Lunar Globe, representing not only the spots, and various degrees of whiteness upon the surface, but the hills, eminencies, and cavities moulded in solid work. The Globe thus fashioned into a true model of the Moon, as you turn it to the light represents all the Menstrual phases, with the variety of appearances that happen from the shadows of the Mountains and Valleys He has made Maps of the Pleyades, and other Telescopical Stars; and proposed Methods to determine the great doubt of the Earth's motion or rest, by the small Stars about the Pole to be seen in large Telescopes.  
In order to Navigation he has carefully pursued many Magnetical Experiments; of which this is one of the noblest and most fruitful of Speculation. A large Terella is placed in the midst of a Plane Board, with a hole into which the Terella is half immersed, till it be like a Globe, with the Poles in the Horizon. Then is the Plane dusted over with steel-filings equally from a Sieve: The Dust by the Magnetical virtue is immediately figured into Furrows, that bend like a sort of Helix, proceeding as it were out of one Pole, and returning into the other: And the whole Plane is thus figured like the Circles of a Planisphere.  
It being a Question amongst the Problems of Navigation, very well worth resolving, to what Mechanical powers the Sailing (against the wind especially) was reducible; he showed it to be a Wedge: And he demonstrated how a transient Force upon an oblique Plane, would cause the motion of the Plane against the first Mover. And he made an Instrument, that Mechanically produced the same effect, and showed the reason of Sailing to all Winds.  
The Geometrical Mechanics of Rowing, he showed to be a Vectis on a moving or cedent Fulcrum. For this end he made Instruments, to find what the expansion of Body was towards the hindrance of Motion in a Liquid Medium; and what degree of impediment was produced, by what degree of expansion: with other things that are the necessary Elements for laying down the Geometry of Sailing, Swimming, Rowing, Flying, and the Fabrics of Ships.  
He has invented a very curious and exceeding speedy way of Etching. He has started several things towards the emendation of Water works. He has made Instruments of Respiration, and for straining the breath from fuliginous vapours, to try whether the same breath so purified will serve again.  
He was the first Inventor of drawing Pictures by Microscopical Glasses. He has found out perpetual, at least long-lived Lamps, and Registers of Furnaces, and the like, for keeping a perpetual temper, in order to various uses; as hatching of Eggs, Infects, production of Plants, Chemical Preparations, imitating Nature in producing Fossils' and Minerals, keeping the motion of Watches equal, in order to Longitudes and Astronomical uses, and infinite other advantages.  
He was the first Author of the Noble Anatomical Experiment of Injecting Liquors into the Veins of Animals. An Experiment now vulgarly known; but long since exhibited to the Meetings at Oxford, and thence carried by some Germans, and published abroad. By this Operation divers Creatures were immediately purged, vomited, intoxicated, killed, or revived, according to the quality of the Liquor injected: Hence arose many new Experiments, and chiefly that of Transfusing Blood, which the Society has prosecuted in sundry Instances, that will probably end in extraordinary Success.  
This is a short account of the Principal Discoveries which Dr. Wren has presented or suggested to this Assembly. I know very well, that some of them he did only start and design; and that they have been since carried on to perfection, by the Industry of other hands. I purpose not to rob them of their share in the honour: Yet it is but reasonable, that the original Invention should be ascribed to the true Author, rather than the Finishers. Nor do I fear that this will be thought too much, which I have said concerning him: For there is a peculiar reverence due to so much excellence covered with so much modesty. And it is not Flattery but honesty, to give him his just praise; who is so far from usurping the fame of other men, that he endeavours with all care to conceal his own.  
I have now performed my Promise, and drawn out of the Papers of the Society, an Epitome of the chief Works they have conceived in their minds, or reduced into Practice. If any shall yet think they have not usefully employed their time, I shall be apt to suspect, that they understand not what is meant by a diligent and profitable labouring about Nature. There are indeed some men who will still condemn them for being idle; unless they immediately profess to have found out the Squaring of the Circle, or the Philosopher's Stone, or some other such mighty Nothings. But if these are not satisfied with what the Society has done, they are only to blame the extravagance of their own Expectations. I confess I cannot boast of such pompous Discoveries: They promise no Wonders, nor endeavour after them: Their Progress has been equal, and firm, by Natural degrees, and thorough small things, as well as great: They go leisurably on; but their slowness is not caused by their idleness, but care. They have contrived in their thoughts, and courageously begun an Attempt, which all Ages had despaired of. It is therefore fit that they alone, and not others, who refuse to partake of their burden, should be Judges by what steps, and what pace, they ought to proceed.  
Such men are then to be entreated not to interrupt their Labours with impertinent rebukes; they are to remember, that the Subject of their Studies is as large as the Vnivers: and that in so vast an Enterprise, many intervals and disappointments must be reckoned upon. Though they do not behold that the Society has already filled the world with perfect Sciences; yet they are to be informed, that the nature of their Work required that they should first begin with immethodical Collections and indigested Experiments, before they go on to finish and compose them into Arts. In which Method they may well be justified, seeing they have the Almighty Creator himself for an Example: For he at first produced a confused and scattered Light; and reserved it to be the work of another day, to gather and fashion it into beautiful Bodies.   
The End of the Second Part.   

THE HISTORY OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY. The THIRD PART.  
THough it be certain, 
Sect. I. The Subject and Division of this Third Part.  that the promoting of Experiments according to this Idea, cannot injure the Virtue, or Wisdom of men's minds, or their former Arts, and Mechanical Practices; or their established ways of life: Yet the perfect innocence of this design, has not been able to free it from the Cavil of the Idle, and the Malicious; nor from the jealousies of Private Interests. These groundless prejudices of the particular Professions, and Ranks of Men, I am now in the Last place to remove; and to show that there is no Foundation for them: To suspect the Change, which can be made by this Institution; or the new things it it likely to produce.  
That it will probably be the Original of many new things, I am so far from denying, that I cheerfully acknowledge it. Nor am I frighted at that, which is wont to be objected in this Case, the hazard of alteration, and Novelty. For if all things that are new be destructive, all the several means, and degrees, by which Mankind has risen to this perfection of Arts, were to be condemned. If to be the Author of new things, be a crime; how will the first Civilizers of Men, and makers of Laws, and Founders of Governments escape? Whatever now delights us in the Works of Nature, that excels the rudeness of the first Creation, is New. Whatever we see in Cities, or Houses, above the first wildness of Fields, and meaness of Cottages, and nakedness of Men, had its time, when this imputation of Novelty, might as well have been laid to its charge. It is not therefore an offence, to profess the introduction of New things, unless that which is introduced prove pernicious in itself; or cannot be brought in, without the extirpation of others, that are better.  
And that Experimental Knowledge, will not expose us to these dangers, I am next to declare, in a Universal Apology for its intentions, and effects. This was the Third Portion, which I at first reserved, for the Conclusion of my Discourse. Yet casting my eyes back, I find, that I have already on several occasions prevented myself; and said many things as I came along, which would have been more proper for this place. But I desire that my Reader would interpret this to have proceeded from the Nature of my Subject, of which it is hard to Write a plain History, without falling sometimes unawares into its Praise. And now I will proceed to a fuller, and more solemn Defence: In which, I will try to prove, that the increase of Experiments will be so far from hurting, that it will be many ways advantageous, above other Studies, to the wont Courses of Education; to the Principles, and instructions of the minds of Men in general; to the Christian Religion, to the Church of England; to all Manual Trades; to Physic; to the Nobility, and Gentry; and the Universal Interest of the whole Kingdom.  
In all which Particulars, I hope I shall represent this Model, to be inoffensive to all the various ways of Living, already in use: and thereby I shall secure all the Ancient Proprietors in their Rights: A work as necessary to be done, in raising a new Philosophy as we see it is in building a new London.  
The First prejudice I am to wipe away, 
Sect. II. Experiments will not injure Education.  concerns the usual ways of Education. For it is an obvious doubt; whether so great a change in Works, and Opinions, may not have some fatal consequence, on all the former Methods of Teaching, which have been long settled, and approved by much Custom. And here many Good Men of severe, and ancient manners, may seem to have reason, when they urge against us; that the Courses of training up of Youth, aught to be still the same; that if they be subverted, or multiplied, much confusion will follow; and that this our Universal Inquiry into things hitherto unquestioned, can never be made, without disturbing such established Rules of Discipline, and Instruction.  
For a General Answer to this, it might suffice to declare, that in this Institution, Men are not engaged in these Studies, till the Course of Education be fully completed: that the Art of Experiments, is not thrust into the hands of Boys, or set up to be performed by Beginners in the School; but in an Assembly of Men of Ripe years: who while they begin a new Method of Knowledge, which shall consist of Works, and is therefore most proper for Men: they still leave to Learners, and Children, the old talkative Arts which best fit the younger Age. From hence it must follow, that all the various manners of Education, will remain undisturbed; because the practices of them, and the labours of this, are not appointed to meet in the same Age, or Persons. But if this will not satisfy our Adversaries, let us proceed to consider the different Parts of Education: and then we shall be able to make the surer Conjectures, what manner of Influence, new Experiments will have upon it.  
Education Consists in divers Rules, and Practices, whereby men are furnished for all the several Courses of Life, to which they may apply themselves. Of these praeparatory Arts, some concern the Body, some the Mind. Those of the Body have no relation to my present Argument: Of those of the Mind, some intent the purity, and Ornament of Speech: Some the Knowledge of the Actions of former, and present Times: Some the Government, and Virtu of our Lives: Some the Method of reasoning: Some the skill in the motions and measures of the Heavens, and the Earth, and all this great Frame of Visible things.  

Grammar. and Rhetoric.  First then I will make no scruple to acquit Experimental Philosophy, from having any ill effects, on the usual Arts, whereby we are taught the Purity, and Elegance of Languages. Whatever discoveries shall appear to us afresh, out of the hidden things of Nature, the same words, and the same ways of Expression will remain. Or if perhaps by this means, any change shall be made herein; it can be only for the better; by supplying men's Tongues, with very many new things, to be named, and adorned, and described in their discourse.  
Nor can there be any more jealousy concerning the Moral, 
Moral Philosophy.  and Political Rules of ordering men's lives. But they may still have the same influence, and authority, and may be proposed to our imitation, by the same precepts, and arguments, of persuasion.  
It is also as manifest, 
History.  that the Art of teaching the Actions of former Ages; can from hence receive no damage, or alteration. This cannot be otherwise; seeing the Subjects of Natural, and Civil History do not cross each other; nor does the New Philosophy of Nature more interfere, with the Histories of Men, and Government, than the Old, of which this doubt was never raised.  
Thus far then we are secure. These great, and fundamental Parts of Education, the Instruments of men's Expressing, and Ruling their own minds, and searching into the Actions of others, will be unalter'd, whatever new changes of Opinions may arise about Natural Things. Let us next go on to consider the Arts of Demonstration, and Argumentation, in which consists one of the most weighty Parts of youthful Studies.  
First for all the Mathematical Sciences, 
The Mathematics.  they will still remain the same, and still continue to be learned, and taught, in the same Systemes, and Methods as before. Nothing that can now be discovered will subvert, but rather Confirm what is already well built on those immovable principles. As they came down to us without detriment, through all the corrupt Times of Learning; so they will certainly now continue uncorrupt, at this present, when Learning is restored. Seing they could not be destroyed in the Ignorant Ages, they will be in no fear, at this time, by this Institution, which designs not only to enlarge them, but to promote the same rigid way of Conclusion in all other Natural things, which only the Mathematics have hitherto maintained.  

Metaphyscis and Logic.  Now then, this whole controversy is reduced to the alteration, which the Logic, and physics of the Ancients, may receive by this change. As for their Metaphysics, they scarce deserve to have a place allowed them in this consideration.  
Nor does that prevail with me, which the Lovers of that Cloudy Knowledge are wont to boast, that it is an excellent instrument to refine, and make subtle the minds of men. For there may be a greater Excess in the subtlety of men's wits, than in their thickness: as we see those threads, which are of too fine a spinning, are found to be more useless, than those which are homespun, and gross.  
Logic is the Art of Conceiving, Arguing, and Method. And notwithstanding all the progress which may happen in Natural Knowledge, all the several parts of reasoning, which it teaches in all manner of business, will continue the same. The operations, and powers of the mind will still be the same: they will still be subject to the same errors: they will still use the same degrees of Arguing from particular things, to propositions, and conclusions; and therefore they will still require the same means, and exercises for direction. It is not the complaint of the promoters of Experiments, that men have been wanting to themselves, in regulating, disposing, or judging of their own thoughts. Nay they rather condemn them, for being wholly employed about the productions of their own minds, and neglecting all the works of Nature, that are without them. It cannot therefore be suspected that these Inquisitive Men, should busy themselves, about altering the Art of Discourse, wherein they judge that mankind has been already rather too Curious, than negligent.  
The Last part that I shall mention, 
Natural Philosophy.  of the Learning that is taught, is the Systeme of Natural Philosophy. And it is in this alone, that I can allow, there will be any alteration made, by this reformation of Knowledge. But yet the change will be so advantageous, that I have no reason to dissemble it. I grant indeed that the greatest part of the former Body of Physics, may hereby chance to fall to the ground. But to what sum will the damage amount? What can we lose, but only some few definitions, and idle questions, and empty disputations? Of which I may say as one did of Metaphors, Poterimus vivere sine illis. Perhaps there will be no more use of Twenty, or Thirty obscure Terms, such as Matter, and Form, Privation, Entelichia, and the like. But to supply their want, and infinite variety of Inventions, Motions, and Operations, will succeed in the place of words. The Beautiful Bosom of Nature will be Exposed to our view: we shall enter into its Garden, and taste of its Fruits, and satisfy ourselves with its plenty: instead of Idle talking, and wand'ring, under its fruitless shadows; as the Peripatetics did in their first institution, and their Successors have done ever since.  

Sect. III. Experiments not dangerous to the Universities.  Thus for I have briefly examined the influence of new Experiments, or all the chief Parts of Education. And after all the Innovation, of which they can be suspected, we find nothing will be endangered, but only the physics of Antiquity: wherein we also behold, that many things of greater concernment, will arise, to supply the place of what shall be cut away. By this discourse, I hope, I have said enough, to manifest the innocence of this Design in respect of all the present Schools of Learning; and especially our own Universities. And it was but just, that we should have this tenderness, for the Interest of those magnificent Seats of humane Knowledge, and divine; to which the Natural Philosophy of our Nation, cannot be injurious without horrible ingratitude; seeing in them it has been principally cherished, and revived. From thence the greatest part of our Modern Inventions have deduced their Original. It is true such Experimental Studies are largely dispersed at this time: But they first came forth thence, as the Colonies of old did from Rome: and therefore as those did, they should rather intend the strength, than the destruction of their Mother-Cities.  
I confess there have not been wanting some forward Assertors of new Philosophy, who have not used any kind of Moderation towards them: But have presently concluded, that nothing can be well-done in new Discoveries, unless all the Ancient Arts be first rejected, and their Nurseries abolished. But the rashness of these men's proceedings, has rather prejudiced, than advanced, what they make show to promote. They have come as furiously to the purging of Philosophy, as our Modern Zealots did to the reformation of Religion. And the one Party is as justly to be condemned, as the other. Nothing will suffice either of them, but an utter Destruction, Root and Branch, of whatever has the face of Antiquity. But as the Universities have withstood the fierceness of the ones zeal without knowledge; so there is no doubt, but they will also prevail against the violence of the others pretences to knowledge without prudence.  
But now after I have shown that all the received forms of Education will be safe, 
Sect. IU. The advantage of an Experimental Education.  I shall make no scruple to add my conjecture, that it could be no hindrance to the minds of men, if besides those courses of Studies which are now followed, there were also trial made of some other more practical ways, to prepare their minds for the world, and the businesses of human life. It is not enough to urge against this, that the multiplicity of Methods would hinder and confound the Spirits of young men; for it is apparent that nothing more suppresses the Genius of Learners, than the formality, and the confinement of the Precepts, by which they are instructed. To this purpose I will venture to propose to the consideration of wise men, whether this way of Teaching by Practice and Experiments, would not at least be as beneficial, as the other by Universal Rules? Whether it were not as profitable to apply the eyes, and the hands of Children, to see, and to touch all the several kinds of sensible things, as to oblige them to learn, and remember the difficult Doctrines of general Arts? In a word, Whether a Mechanical Education would not excel the Methodical?  
This certainly is no new device: For it was that which Plato intended; when he enjoined his Scholars to begin with Geometry; whereby, without question, he designed, that his Disciples should first handle Material Things, and grow familiar to visible Objects, before they entered on the retired Speculations of other more abstracted Sciences.  
According to this counsel of the Father of Philosophers, it would not be amiss, if before young Scholars be far engaged in the beaten tracks of the Schools, the Mysteries of Manual Arts, the names of their Instruments, the secrets of their Operations, the effects of Natural causes, the several kinds of Beasts, of Birds, of Fishes, of Plants, of Stones, of Minerals, of Earth's, of Waters, and all their common Virtues and Qualities, were proposed to be the subjects of their first thoughts and observations. It may be here suggested, That the vast number of such particulars will soon overwhelm their tender minds, before they are well established by time, and use. But on the contrary it is evident, that the Memories of Youth are fitter to retain such sensible images, than those of a fuller age. It is Memory that has most vigour in Children, and judgement in Men: which if rightly considered, will confirm what I said, that perhaps we take a preposterous course in Education, by teaching General Rules, before Particular Things: and that therein we have not a sufficient Regard, to the different advantages of Youth and Manhood. We load the minds of Children with Doctrines, and Precepts, to apprehend which they are most unfit, by reason of the weakness of their understandings; whereas they might with more profit be exercised in the consideration of visible and sensible things; of whose impressions they are most capable, because of the strength of their Memories, and the perfection of their Senses.  
The first years of men being thus freed from any apprehensions of mischief by new Experiments: 
Sect. V. The use of Experiments to a practical Life.  I will now proceed more boldly to bring them in amidst the Throngs, and Crowds of human business; and to declare to all Professions, and practical Lives, that they can receive no ill impressions from them, but that they will be the most beneficial and proper Studies, for their praeparation and direction. And to this purpose, I will treat of their usefulness, both in respect of men's public practice, and the private government of their own minds.  
As to the first, 
Experiments free from the faults of other sorts of Learning.  it has been an old complaint, that has been long managed by men of business, against many sorts of Knowledge, that our thoughts are thereby infected with such conceptions, as make them more unfit for action, than they would have been, if they were wholly left to the force of their own Nature. The common Accusations against Learning are such as these; That it inclines men to be unsettled, and contentious; That it takes up more of their time, than men of business ought to bestow; That it makes them Romantic, and subject to frame more perfect images of things, than the things themselves will bear; That it renders them overweening, unchangeable, and obstinate; That thereby men become averse from a practical course, and unable to bear the difficulties of action; That it emploies them about things, which are no where in use in the world; and, That it draws them to neglect and contemn their own present times, by doting on the past. But now I will maintain, that in every one of these dangers Experimental Knowledge is less to be suspected than any other; That in most of them (if not all) it is absolutely innocent; nay, That it contains the best remedies for the distempers which some other sorts of Learning are thought to bring with them.  

Sect. VI The first objection against Learning, That it makes men too disputative.  The first Objection against Knowledge, of which I shall take notice in the active part of life is this, That it makes men too plentiful in their thoughts; too inventive, and cavilling in their Arguments; and so rather teaches them to be witty in objecting, than ready in resolving, and diligent in performing. I confess the Ancient Philosophy will hardly be able to vindicate itself from this charge: For its chief purpose is to enlarge the fancy, and to fill the head with the matter and artifice of discourse. But this cannot any way touch the Art of Experiments. That consists not in Topics of reasoning, but of working: That indeed is full of doubting and inquiry, and will scarce be brought to settle its assent: But it is such a doubting as proceeds on Trials, and not on Arguments. That does neither practice nor cherish this humour of disputing, which Breaks the force of things by the subtlety of words; as Seneca was said to do by his style: It weakens men's arms, and slackens all the sinews of action: For so it commonly happens, that such earnest disputers evaporate all the strength of their minds in arguing, questioning, and debating; and tyre themselves out before they come to the Practice.  

Sect. VII. The second, That it takes up too much time.  The next accusation is, That so many intricate paths, and spacious windings of Learning, will require more time than can be spared by men of active and busy lives. The belief of this has always made a wide divorce between men of knowledge and action; while both have thought, that they must either be wholly Scholars, or wholly men of business; and that an excellence in both these courses can never be obtained by human wit. 'Tis true indeed, there is no Knowledge or Science that can be acquitted from being too large, if their Professors have not the discretion to know how far to proceed, and what moderation is to be used in every Study. There is in the least Art enough matter, about which if mwn shall resolve to trouble their brains all their lives, one question and difficulty will perpetually beget another, and so (as one of the Ancients says) Ipsa tractatio, & questio quotidiè ex se gignet aliquid, quod cum desidiosâ delectatione vestiges.  
To this danger perhaps Experiments may seem most exposed, by reason of the infinite multitude of particulars, and innumerable variations of inquiries, that may be made. But the Royal Society has prevented this mischief, by the number and succession of those that shall undertake the work. They require not the whole time of any of their Members, except only of their Curators: From the rest they expect no more but what their business, nay even their very recreations can spare. It is the continuance and perpetuity of such Philosophical labours, to which they principally trust; which will both allow a sufficient relaxation to all the particular laborers, and will also give good assurance of the happy issue of their work at the last: For though that be true, which the Great Physician laments, That Art is long, and Life is short; yet many Lives of studious and industrious men in one Age, and the succession of many Lives of such men in all future Ages, will undoubtedly prove as long as Art itself.  

Sect. VIII. The third objection, That it makes our minds Romantic.  They farther object against Learning, That it makes our minds too lofty and Romantic, and inclines them to form more perfect imaginations of the matters we are to practise, than the matters themselves will bear. I cannot deny, but a mere contemplative man is obnoxious to this error: He converses chiefly in his Closet, with the heads and notions of things, and so discerns not their bottoms near and distinctly enough: And thence he is subject to overlook the little circumstances, on which all human actions depend. He is still reducing all things to standing Doctrines; and therefore must needs be liable to neglect the opportunities, to set upon business too soon, or too late; to put those things together in his mind, which have no agreement in Nature. But this above all is his greatest danger, that thinking it still becomes him to go out of the ordinary way, and to refine and heighten the conceptions of the vulgar, he will be ready to disdain all the Natural and easy ways of Practice, and to believe that nothing ought to be done, though never so common, but by some device of Art, and trick of unusual wisdom.  
From these inconveniences the Experimenter is secure: He invents not what he does out of himself; but gathers it from the footsteps and progress of Nature. He looks on every thing standing equal to it, and not as from a higher ground: He labours about the plain and undigested objects of his senses, without considering them as they are joined into common Notions. He has an opportunity of understanding the most natural ways by which all things are produced. He clearly beholds all the secret accidents and turnings, advantages and failings of Nature. He endeavours rather to know, than to admire; and looks upon admiration, not as the end, but the imperfection of our knowledge.  
The next hindrance of Action, 
Sect. IX. The fourth objection, That it makes men presumptuous & obstinate.  is an obstinacy of resolution, and a want of Dexterity, to change our apprehensions of things according to occasions. This is the more destructive, because it carries with it the most solemn appearance of Wisdom. There is scarce any thing that renders a man so useless, as a pervers sticking to the same things in all times, because he has sometimes found them to have been in season. But now in this, there is scarce any comparison to be made, between him who is only a thinking man; and a man of experience. The first does commonly establish his constant Rules, by which he will be guided: The later makes none of his opinions irrevocable. The one if he mistakes, receives his errors from his Understanding; the other only from his Senses; and so he may correct, and alter them with more ease. The one fixes his opinions as soon; the other doubts as long as he can. The one chiefly strives to be unmovable in his mind: The other to enlarge, and amend his knowledge: And from hence the one is inclined to be praesumptuous, the other modest in his judgement.  
The next pretence, 
Sect. X. The fifth objection, That its pleasure draws men off from business.  on which men of Learning are wont to be vilified, is, that they use to be so much affected, with the pleasant muse of their own thoughts, as to abhor the roughness, and toil of business. This accusation I confess, is not altogether groundless. The solitary imaginations of Speculative Men are of all other the most easy: there a man meets with little stubborness of matter: he may choose his subject where he likes; he may fashion and turn it as he pleases: whereas when he comes abroad into the world, he must endure more contradiction: more difficulties are to be overcome; and he cannot always follow his own Genius: so that it is not to be wondered, that so many great Wits have despised the labour of a practical course; and have rather chosen to shut themselves up from the nois and preferments of the World, to convers in the shadow with the pleasant productions of their own fancies.  
And this perhaps is the reason why the most extraordinary men of Arts in all Ages, are generally observed to be the greatest Humorists: They are so full of the sweetness of their own conceptions, that they become morose, when they are drawn from them, they cannot easily make their minds ductil and pliable to others tempers, and so they appear untractable, and unskilful in conversation.  
From this I shall also free the Experimental Philosopher. The satisfaction that he finds, is not imaginary, but real: It is drawn from things that are not out of the world, but in it: It does not carry him farther off, but brings him nearer to Practice. 'Tis true, that Knowledge which is only founded on thoughts and words, has seldom any other end, but the breeding and increasing of more thoughts and words: But that which is built on Works (as his will be) will naturally desire to discover, to augment, to apply, to communicate itself by more Works.  
Nor can it be thought, that his mind will be made to languish by this pleasure of observation, and to have any aversion from the difficulty and tediousness of human affairs; seeing his way of observation itself is so laborious. It is a good Precept, which is wont to be given, in respect of all sorts of Exercises, that they should be at least as hard and toilsome, as that Art which we strive to gain by them. And by this rule Experiments are an excellent preparation towards any habit or faculty of life whatsoever. For what thing, which can be effected by mortal Industry, can seem impossible to him who has been engaged in these Studies, which require such an indefatigable watchfulness? What can overcome his diligence, who has been able to sustain with patience the escapes; the delays, the labyrinths of Nature? whom the repetition of so many labours, so many failings, with which he meets, and so long attendance could not tyre?  
Another Principal mischief to be avoided, 
Sect. XI. The sixth objection, That it makes men regard the times past, and neglect the present.  is the conformity of our Actions to times past, and not the present. This extravagance is generally imputed to studious men; and they cannot be wholly acquitted from it. For while they continue heaping up in their Memories the customs of past Ages, they fall insensibly to imitate them, without any manner of care how suitable they are to Times and Things. The grounds of this mistake will be worth our discovering, because in men's opinions it does so much prejudice to the learned part of the World. In the ancient Authors which they turn over, they find descriptions of Virtues more perfect than indeed they were: the Governments are represented better, and the ways of life pleasanter than they deserved. Upon this, these Bookish wise men straight compare what they read with what they see: and here beholding nothing so heroically transcendent, because they are able to mark all the spots, as well as beauties of every thing, that is so close to their sight, they presently begin to despise their own times, to exalt the past, to contemn the virtues and aggravate the vices of their Country; not indeavoring to amend them, but by such examples as are now unpracticable, by reason of the alteration of Men and Manners.  
For this defect, Experiments are a sovereign cure: They give us a perfect sight of what is before us; they bring us home to ourselves; they make us live in England, and not in Athens or Sparta; at this present time, and not three thousand years ago: though they permit us to reflect on what has been done in former Ages; yet they make us chiefly to regard and contemplate the things that are in our view. This certainly is conformable to the Design of Nature itself; which though it has framed our bodies in that manner, that we may easily upon occasion turn about to look behind us; yet it has placed the Eyes, the chief instruments of observation, not in our Backs, but in our Foreheads.  

Sect. XI. The seventh objection, That it hinders use.  The last failing which is wont to be imputed to Learned men, is want of use, and fear of practice, and a conversing with things in their Studies, which they meet with no where else. It may now perhaps be thought, that an Experimenter is as inclinable to these weaknesses, as he that only contemplates; because they both keep out of the way, in the shadow; the one in his Library, arguing, objecting, defending, concluding with himself: the other in his Work-hous, with such Tools and Materials, whereof many perhaps are not publicly in use. Let us then consider which of them is most to be blamed for conversing with matters unlike those that we meet with in Civil affairs? and which most abounds with fears and doubts, and mistaken ideas of things?  
It cannot be denied, but the men of Reading do very much busy themselves about such conceptions, which are no where to be found out of their own Chambers. The sense, the custom, the practice, the judgement of the world, is quite a different thing from what they imagine it to be in private. And therefore it is no wonder, if when they come abroad into business, the sight of Men, the Tumult and nois of Cities, and the very brightness of Day itself affright them: Like that Rhetorician, who having been used to declaim in the shade of a School, when he came to plead a true cause in the open Air, desired the Judges to remove their Seat under some roof, because the light offended him.  
But now on the other side, the men of Works and Experiments perhaps do not always handle the very same Subjects that are acted on the stage of the World; yet they are such as have a very great resemblance to them. It is matter, a visible and sensible matter, which is the object of their labours: And the same is also used by men of practical lives. This likeness of their Employments will soon make the one excel in the other. For it is far easier for him who has been conversant in one sort of works to apply himself to any other; than for him who has only thought much, to turn a man of Practice: as he that can paint the face of a Man or a Lion, will much sooner come to draw any other Creature; than he who has all the Rules of Limning in his head, but never yet used his hand to lay on a Colour.  
And as for the terrors and misapprehensions which commonly confounded weaker minds, and make men's hearts to fail and boggle at Trifles; there is so little hope of having them removed by Speculation alone, that it is evident they were first produced by the most contemplative men amongst the Ancients; and chiefly prevailed of late years, when that way of Learning flourished. The Poets began of old to impose the deceit. They to make all things look more venerable than they were, devised a thousand false Chimeras; on every Field, River, Grove, and Cave, they bestowed a Phantasm of their own making: With these they amazed the world; these they clothed with what shapes they pleased; by these they pretended, that all Wars, and Counsels, and Actions of men were administered. And in the modern Ages these Fantastical Forms were revived, and possessed Christendom, in the very height of the schoolmen's time: An infinite number of Fairies haunted every house; all Churches were filled with Apparitions; men began to be frighted from their Cradles, which fright continued to their Graves, and their Names also were made the causes of scaring others. All which abuses if those acute Philosophers did not promote, yet they were never able to overcome; nay, even not so much as King Oberon and his invisible Army.  
But from the time in which the Real Philosophy has appeared, there is scarce any whisper remaining of such horrors: Every man is unshaken at those Tales, at which his Ancestors trembled: The course of things goes quietly along, in its own true channel of Natural Causes and Effects. For this we are beholden to Experiments; which though they have not yet completed the discovery of the true world, yet they have already vanquished those wild inhabitants of the false worlds, that used to astonish the minds of men. A Blessing for which we ought to be thankful, if we remember, that it is one of the greatest Curses that God pronounces on the wicked, That they shall fear where no fear is.  
From what I have said, may be gathered, That Experimental Philosophy will prevent men's spending the strength of their thoughts about Disputes, by turning them to Works: That it may well be attended by the united Labours of many, without wholly devouring the time of those that labour: That it will cure our minds of Romantic swelling, by showing all things familiarly to them, just as large as they are: That it will free them from perversity, by not permitting them to be too peremptory in their Conclusions: That it accustoms our hands to things which have a near resemblance to the business of life; and, That it draws away the shadows which either enlarge or darken human affairs. And indeed of the usual titles by which men of business are wont to be distinguished, the Crafty, the Formal, and the Prudent; The Crafty may answer to the Empyric in Philosophy; that is, he is such a one who has a great collection of particular Experiences, but knows not how to use them but to base and low ends. The Formal man may be compared to the mere Speculative Philosopher: For he vainly reduces every thing to grave and solemn general Rules, without discretion, or mature deliberation. And lastly, the Prudent man is like him who proceeds on a constant and solid course of Experiments. The one in Civil life neither wholly rejects the Wisdom of Ancient or Modern times: The other in Philosophy has the same reverence for former Ages, and regard for the present. The one does not rest upon empty prudence, but designs it for action: the other does the same with his discoveries: upon a just, severe, and deliberate examination of things, they both rays their Observations, which they do not suffer to lie idle, but use them to direct the actions, and supply the wants of human life.  

Sect. XIII. Experiments useful for the cure of men's minds  Besides what I have said of the help, which Experiments will bring to our public duties, and civil actions: I promised to add something, concerning the assistance, that they are able to give, towards the management of the private motions, and passions of our minds: Of this I need say the less, because there is amongst the Philosophers, a particular Science appointed for this purpose, to prescribe rules for calming our affections, and conquering our vices. However I will not wholly pass it over in silence. But I will try in few words to make appear, that the Real Philosophy will supply our thoughts with excellent Medicines, against their own Extravagances, and will serve in some sort, for the same ends, which the Moral professes to accomplish.  
If we shall cast an eye on all the Tempests, which arise within our Breasts, and consider the causes, and remedies of all the violent desires, malicious envies, intemperate joys, and irregular griefs, by which the lives of most men become miserable, or guilty: we shall find, that they are chiefly produced by Idleness, and may be most naturally cured by diversion. Whatever Art shall be able to busy the minds of men, with a constant course of innocent Works, or to fill them with as vigorous, and pleasant Images, as those ill impressions, by which they are deluded; it will certainly have a surer effect in the composing, and purifying of their thoughts, than all the rigid precepts of the Stoical, or the empty distinctions of the Peripatetic Moralists.  
Now than it is required in that study, which shall attempt, according to the force of Nature, to cure the diseases of the mind, that it keep it from idleness by full, and earnest employments, and that it possess it with innocent, various, lasting, and even sensible delights.  
How active, and industrious the Art of Experiments ought to be, may be concluded from the whole tenor of my discourse: wherein I have often proved, that it can never be finished by the perpetual labours of any one man, nay scarce by the successive force of the greatest Assembly.  
That therefore being taken for granted, that it will afford eternal employments: It is also as true that its labours will contain the most affecting, and the most diverting Delights: and that thence it has power enough to free the minds of men from their vanities, and intemperance, by that very way which the greatest Epicure has no reason to reject, by opposing pleasure against pleasure.  
And I dare challenge all the corrupt Arts of our Senses, or the devices of voluptuous wits, to provide fuller, more changeable, or nearer objects, for the contentment of men's minds. It were indeed to be wished, that severe virtu itself, attended only by its own Authority, were powerful enough to establish its dominion. But it cannot be so. The corruptions, and infirmities of human Nature stand in need of all manner of allurements, to draw us to good, and quiet manners. I will therefore propose for this end this course of Study, which will not affright us with rigid precepts, or sou'r looks, or peevish commands, but consists of sensible pleasure, and besides will be most lasting in its satisfaction, and innocent in its remembrance.  
What raptures can the most voluptuous men fancy to which these are not equal? Can they relish nothing but the pleasures of their senses? They may here enjoy them without guilt or remors. Are they affrighted at the difficulties of Knowledge? Here they may meet with a Study, that as well fits the most negligent minds, as the most industrious. This consists of so many Works, and those so obvious, and facile, that the most laborious will never find cause to be idle, and the most idle may still have something to do with the greatest ease. In this they need not weary themselves by searching for matter. Whatever they feel, or see, will afford them Observations. In this there is no tedious praeparation required to fit them for such endeavours. As soon as they have the use of their hands, and eyes, and common sense, they they are sufficiently furnished to undertake them: Though we cannot comprehend the Arts of men without many praevious Studies, yet such is the indulgence of Nature, that it has from the beginning, out of its own store, sufficiently provided every man, with all things, that are needful for the understanding of itself.  
Thus neither the sensual mind, has any occasion to contemn Experiments as unpleasant, nor the idle as burdensome, or intolerable, nor the virtuous as unworthy of his labours. And the same influence they may have, on all other moral imperfections of human Nature. What room can there be for low, and little things in a mind so usefully and successfully employed? What ambitious disquiets can torment that man, who has so much glory before him, for which there are only required the delightful Works of his hands? What dark, or melancholy passions can overshadow his heart, whose senses are always full of so many various productions, of which the least progress, and success, will affect him with an innocent joy? What anger, envy, hatred, or revenge can long torment his breast, whom not only the greatest, and noblest objects, but every sand, every pebble, every grass, every earth, every fly can divert? To whom the return of every season, every month, every day, do suggest a circle of most pleasant operations? If the Ancients prescribed it as a sufficient Remedy, against such violent Passions, only to repeat the Alphabet over: whereby there was leisure given to the mind, to recover itself from any sudden fury: then how much more effectual Medicines, against the same distempers, may be fetched from the whole Alphabet of Nature, which represents itself to our Consideration, in so many infinite Volumes!  
I will now proceed to the weightiest, 
Sect. XIV. Experiments not dangerous to the Christian Religion.  and most solemn part of my whole undertaking; to make a defence of the Royal Society, and this new Experimental Learning, in respect of the Christian Faith. I am not ignorant, in what a slippery place I now stand; and what a tender matter I am entered upon. I know that it is almost impossible without offence, to speak of things of this Nature, in which all Mankind, each Country, and now almost every Family, do so widely disagree among themselves. I cannot expect that what I shall say will escape misinterpretation, though it be spoken with the greatest simplicity, and submission, while I behold that most men do rather value themselves, and others, on the little differences of Religion, than the main substance itself; and while the will of God is so variously distracted, that what appears to be Piety to some Christians, is abhorred as the greatest superstition, and heresy by others.  
However to smooth my way as much as I can, and to prepare all our several Spiritual Interests, to read this part with some tolerable moderation; I do here in the beginning most sincerely declare, that if this design should in the least diminish the Reverence, that is due to the Doctrine of jesus Christ, it were so far from deserving protection, that it ought to be abhorred by all the Politic, and Prudent; as well as by the devout Part of Christendom. And this I profess, I think they were bound to do, not only from a just dread of the Being, the Worship, the Omnipotence, the Love of God, all which are to be held in the highest veneration: but also out of a regard to the peace, and prosperity of men. In matters that concern our opinions of another World, the least alterations are of wonderful hazard: how mischievous then would that enterprise be, whose effects would abolish the command of Conscience, the belief of a future life; or any of those Heavenly Doctrines, by which not only the eternal condition of men is secured, but their natural Reason, and their Temporal safety advanced? Whoever shall impiously attempt to subvert the Authority of the Divine Power, on false pretences to better Knowledge, he will unsettle the strongest foundations of our hopes: he will make a terrible confusion in all the offices, and opinions of men: he will destroy the most prevailing Argument to virtu: he will remove all human Actions, from their firmest centre: he will even deprive himself, of the prerogative of his Immortal Soul; and will have the same success, that the Ancient Fables make those to have had, who contended with their Gods, of whom they report, that many were immediately turned into Beasts.  
With these apprehensions I come to examine the Objections, which I am now to satisfy: and having calmly compared the Arguments of some devout men against Knowledge, and chiefly that of Experiments; I must pronounce them both, to be altogether inoffensive. I did before affirm, that the Royal Society is abundantly cautious, not to intermeddle in Spiritual things: But that being only a general plea, and the question not lying so much on what they do at present, as upon the probable effects of their Enterprise; I will bring it to the test through the chief Parts of Christianity; and show that it will be found as much avers from Atheism, in its issue and consequences, as it was in its original purpose.  
The public Declaration of the Christian Religion, is to propose to mankind, an infallible way to Salvation. Towards the performance of this happy end, besides the Principles of Natural Religion, which consists in the acknowledgement and Worship of a Deity: It has offered us the merits of a glorious Saviour: By him, and his Apostles Ministry, it has given us sufficient Examples, and Doctrines to acquaint us with divine things, and carry us to Heaven. In every one of these, the Experiments of Natural things, do neither darken our eyes, nor deceive our minds, nor deprave our hearts.  

Sect. XV. Experiments will not destroy the Doctrine of the Godhead.  First there can be no just reason assigned, why an Experimenter should be prone to deny the essence, and properties of God, the universal Sovereignty of his Dominion, and his Providence over the Creation. He has before him the very same argument, to confirm his judgement in all these; with which he himself is wont to be abundantly satisfied, when he meets with it in any of his Philosophical Inquiries. In every thing that he tries, he believes, that this is enough for him to rest on, if he finds, that not only his own, but the universal Observations of men of all times and places, without any mutual conspiracy have consented in the same conclusion. How can he then refrain from embracing this common Truth, which is witnessed by the unanimous approbation of all Countries, the agreement of Nations, and the secret acknowledgement of every man's breast?  
'Tis true his employment is about material things. But this is so far from drawing him to oppose invisible Being's, that it rather puts his thoughts into an excellent good capacity to believe them. In every work of Nature that he handles, he knows that there is not only a gross substance, which presents itself to all men's eyes; but an infinite subtlety of parts, which come not into the sharpest sense. So that what the Scripture relates of the Purity of God, of the Spirituality of his Nature, and that of Angels, and the Souls of men, cannot seem incredible to him, when he perceives the numberless particles that move in every man's Blood, and the prodigious streams that continually flow unseen from every Body: Having found that his own senses have been so far assisted by the Instruments of Art, he may sooner admit, that his mind ought to be raised higher, by a Heavenly light, in those things wherein his senses do fall short. If (as the Apostle says) the invisible things of God are manifested by the visible; then how much stronger Arguments has he for his belief, in the eternal power, and Godhead, from the vast number of Creatures, that are invisible to others, but are exposed to his view by the help of his Experiments?  
Thus he is praepar'd to admit a Deity, 
Sect. XVI. Experiments not injurious to the worship of God.  and to embrace the consequences of that concession. He is also from his Experiments as well furnished with Arguments to adore it: he has always before his eyes the beauty, contrivance, and order of God's Works: From hence, he will learn to serve him with all reverence, who in all that he has made, consulted Ornament, as well as Use.  
From hence he will best understand the infinite distance between himself, and his Creator, when he finds that all things were produced by him: whereas he by all his study, can scarce imitate the least effects, nor hasten, or retard the common course of Nature. This will teach him to Worship that Wisdom, by which all things are so easily sustained, when he has looked more familiarly into them, and beheld the chances, and alterations, to which they are exposed. Hence he will be led to admire the wonderful contrivance of the Creation; and so to apply, and direct his praises aright: which no doubt, when they are offered up to Heaven, from the mouth of one, who has well studied what he commends, will be more suitable to the Divine Nature, than the blind applauses of the ignorant. This was the first service, that Adam performed to his Creator, when he obeyed him in mustering, and naming, and looking into the Nature of all the Creatures. This had been the only Religion, if men had continued innocent in Paradise, and had not wanted a Redemption. Of this the Scripture itself makes so much use, that if any devout man shall reject all Natural Philosophy, he may blot Genesis, and job, and the Psalms, and some other Books, out of the Canon of the Bible. God never yet left himself without witness in the World: And it is observable, that he has commonly chosen the dark and ignorant Ages, wherein to work Miracles; but seldom or never the times when Natural Knowledge prevailed: For he knew there was not so much need to make use of extraordinary signs, when men were diligent in the works of his hands, and attentive on the impressions of his footsteps in his Creatures.  
It is almost a proverbial speech, That the most Learned Ages are still the most Atheistical, and the ignorant most devout. Whoever devised this distinction at first, the true Piety is little beholden to him for it: For instead of obeying the jewish Law, which forbids us to offer up to God a Sacrifice that has a Blemish, he has bestowed the most excellent of all the Race of men on the Devil; and has only assigned to Religion those Men and those Times, which have the greatest Blemish of human Nature, even a defect in their Knowledge and Understanding.  
If there can be found any colour for this observation, That the light of Reason should produce a spiritual darkness; it can only then hold good, when the knowledge of men, and not that of Nature abounds. Whether the first be true, or no, let the Politicians consider: But of the second, this is a sufficient conviction, that in most Country's God has been worshipped in a form proportionable to that kind of Natural Philosophy in which they excelled. In Persia, where the skill of the heavenly Motions first began, they had their Temples on the Top of Hills, and open to the Air. In Egypt they had the best opportunities of studying the Nature of living Creatures; by reason of that variety which their River and their Land produced. And their Religious Mysteries were contained in Hieroglyphics, which were most of them borrowed from Beasts. And why should Natural Philosophy be now condemned, for contempt of all Divinity, when of old it did rather incline them to Superstition, which is the other extreme? It is true indeed, by that knowledge which they had of many Creatures, they were drawn to adore them; but that was only because it was imperfect: If they had understood them thoroughly, they had never done it: So true is that saying of my Lord Bacon, That by a little knowledge of Nature men become Atheists; but a great deal returns them back again to a sound and Religious mind. In brief, if we rightly apprehend the matter, it will be found, that it is not only sottishness, but profaneness, for men to cry out against the understanding of Nature: For that being nothing else but the instrument of God, whereby he gives being and action to things; the knowledge of it deserves so little to be esteemed impious, that it ought rather to be reckoned as Divine.  
But the chief part of our Religion, 
Sect. XVII. Experiments not praejudicial to the doctrine of the Gospel.  on which the certainty of all the rest depends, is the Evangelical Doctrine of Salvation by jesus Christ In this there is nothing, from which he that converses much with Nature, can be thought to be more avers than others; nay, to which he may not be concluded to be more inclinable, on this very account; seeing it has all been proved to him his own way. Had not the appearance of Christ been strengthened by undeniable signs of almighty Power, no age nor place had been obliged to believe his Message. And these Miracles with which he asserted the Truths that he taught (if I might be allowed this boldness in a matter so sacred) I would even venture to call Divine Experiments of his Godhead.  
What then can there be in all this Doctrine, at which a Real and impartial Inquirer into Natural Things, should be offended? Does he demand a Testimony from Heaven? he has it: He reads effects produced, that did exceed all mortal skill and force: And of this he himself is a better judge than others: For to understand aright what is supernatural, it is a good step first to know what is according to Nature.  
Does he require that this should be testified, not by men of Craft or Speculation; but rather by men of Honesty, Trades, and Business? The Apostles were such. Will he not consent to any man's Opinions, unless he sees the operations of his hands agree with them? Christ himself requires no more of any of his Followers: For he commanded his Disciples not to believe him, but the Works that he did. Does he think that it is the most honourable Labour to study the benefit of Mankind? to help their infirmities? to supply their wants? to ease their burdens? He here may behold the whole Doctrine of Future Happiness, introduced by the same means; by feeding the Hungry, by curing the Lame, and by opening the eyes of the Blind: All which may be called Philosophical Works, performed by an Almighty hand.  
What then can hinder him from loving and admiring this Saviour, whose Design is so conformable to his own, but his Ability so much greater? What jealousy can he have of an imposture in this Messias? Who though his Doctrine was so pure and venerable, though his Life was so blameless, though he had the power of Heaven and Earth in his hands, though he knew the thoughts of men, and might have touched and moved them as he pleased; did yet not rely on his Doctrine, on his Life, on the irresistible assistance of Angels, or on his own Divinity alone; but stooped to convince men by their Senses, and by the very same course by which they receive all their Natural Knowledge.  
The last Doctrinal part of our Religion, 
§. XVIII. Experiments will not overthrow the Doctrine of the Primitive Church.  I shall mention, consists of those Doctrines which have been long since deduced by consequences from the Scripture, and are now settled in the Body of that Divinity, which was delivered down to us by the Primitive Church, and which the generality of Christendom embraces. It may here be suggested, that the sensible knowledge of things may in time abolish most of these, by insinuating into men's minds, that they cannot stand before the impartiality of Philosophical Inquisitions, But this surmise has no manner of foundation. These Superstructures are of two sorts: either those of which a man may have a clear apprehension in his thoughts, upon a rational account, and which are intelligible to any ordinary Reader; or else such as exceed the common measures of our Reason and Senses. There will be no fear that an Experimenter should reject the first, seeing they may be conceived by the meanest capacity, and have that stamp upon them, which he for the most part esteems the character of Truth, that they are vulgar. But now towards the consenting to the last, there is nothing better than to believe them in gross: And for this he is as well prepared as any other Philosopher. If we suppose him sufficiently convinced of the authority of the Deliverer (as I have already shown he may be) he cannot be suspected for disavowing his word, though never so mystical; or for resisting the voice of him, whose Arm he has found to be Omnipotent. This submission of his judgement he may make, notwithstanding the severity of his Inquiries: And the most subtle Speculative man in the world can do no more. After all his acute Arguings in Divinity, he can never render any one point, which is the proper object of Faith, to be plain, and equal, and expressible to our Reason. What good can he then do? seeing he is not able to make it any way fitter for our Faith, by all his Transcendental Notions, than it was before, on the bare account of the wondrous Works of the Author.  
This is the place in which the Peripatetic Philosophy has long triumphed: But I cannot imagine on what right. The spiritual and supernatural part of Christianity no Philosophy can reach: And in the plain things there is no need of any at all: So that it is excluded on both accounts. In some Doctrines it is useless, by reason of their sublimity; in others, because of their commonness. How small assistance it brings, may be seen in those very points, in which its Empire seems most to be placed, in God's Decrees, his Immateriality, his Eternity, and the holy Mystery of the Trinity: In all which we are only brought into a more learned darkness by it; and in which unfathomable Depths a plain Believing is at last acknowledged by all to be our only Refuge. The truth is, notwithstanding the great stir they have made about Religion, if we had only followed their light, we had still worshipped the Creator and Redeemer of the World, under the same title by which their Praedecessors did formerly at Athens, as the Unknown God.  
This I have urged so far, because I am confident that the reducing of Christianity to one particular Sect of Philosophy, and confining it to that, is one of the most destructive Engines that ever was managed against it. Of this the Church of Rome for her share has already found the ill effects: And the danger is apparent: For by this means the benefit of Religion will become very narrow, seeing where Reason takes place it will only convince them who are of the same opinions in Philosophy with those that convert them. And also (that which is worse) if ever by any fate of Times, or change of Governments, or succession of new Arts, that Sect shall chance to be quite broken, the Doctrine of Christ, relying upon it, were inevitably ruined, unless God were pleased to support it a supernatural way, or to restore it again by new Miracles. Religion ought not to be the subject of Disputations: It should not stand in need of any devices of reason: It should in this be like the Temporal Laws of all Countries, towards the obeying of which there is no need of syllogisms or distinctions; nothing else is necessary but a bare promulgation, a common apprehension, and sense enough to understand the Grammatical meaning of ordinary words. Nor ought Philosophers to regret this divorce: seeing they have almost destroyed themselves, by keeping Christianity so long under their guard: By fetching Religion out of the Church, and carrying it Captive into the Schools, they have made it suffer banishment from its proper place; and they have withal thereby very much corrupted the substance of their own Knowledge: They have done as the Philistims by seizing on the Ark: who by the same action, deprived the People of God of their Religion, and also brought a Plague amongst themselves.  

Sect. XIX. Experiments will not hinder the Practice of Religion.  Thus far I trust it will be confessed, that Experiments are unblameable. But yet there is much more behind, of which many pious men are wont to express their jealousy. For though they shall be brought to allow, that all these Doctrines, which I have named, may seem to remain safe amidst the studies of Natural things: yet they still whisper, that they may chance by degrees, to make the sincerity of devotion appear ridiculous, and to bring the strictness of holy life out of fashion: and that so they will silently, and by piece-meals, demolish Religion, which they dare not openly encounter. I will therefore next endeavour the removal of these scruples, though I sufficiently understand, that it is a very difficult Work, to confute such popular, and plausible errors, which have the pretence of the cause of God to confirm them.  
The chief substance of Real, and Sober Piety, is contained in the devout observation of all those ways, whereby God has been pleased to manifest his Will; and in a right separation of our minds from the lusts, and desires of the World. The most remarkable means, whereby he has made known his pleasure, are those, which have been fixed, and revealed in his Word; or else the extraordinary signs of his Authority, and Command.  
Concerning our acknowledgement of his revealed Will in the Scripture, I have already spoken. And our obedience to the later consists chiefly of two kinds: an humble submission to Divine Prophecies, and a careful observance of all remarkable Providences. In both which Experimental Philosophy may well be justified. It may perhaps correct some excesses, which are incident to them: But it declares no enmity against the things themselves.  
The sum of the whole Doctrine of Prophecies is this, that the Great Creator of the World has the Prerogative of foreseeing, appointing, and praedicting all future Events: that he has often in former Ages made use of this power, by the Visions, and raptures of holy men inspired from above: that his infinite Wisdom has still the like ability to do the same: that whenever such predictions are accompanied, with undeniable Testimonies of their being sent from Heaven, they ought to be praefered before all human Laws.  
The true Foundation of Divine Prodigies, is much of the same Nature with the other. It relies on these suppositions, that all the Creatures are subject to God's Word, by which they were made: that he can alter their Courses, exalt, or destroy their Natures, and move them to different ends from their own, according to his pleasure: that this he has often done heretofore: that still his Arm it not weakened, nor the same omnipotence diminished: that still he may change the wont Law of the Creation, and dispose of the Being's, and motions of all things, without control: and that when this is done, it is with a peculiar design of punishing, or rewarding, or forewarning mankind.  
To the belief and assertion of these Doctrines, we are obliged by the very end of Religion itself. But yet their counterfeit colours have seduced many virtuous minds into manifold mischiefs.  
The mistakes about Prophecies may arise, either from our abusing of the old, or a vain setting up of new. We err in the first, when we translate ancient Prophecies from those times, and Countries, which they did properly regard, to others, which they do not concern. And we offend in the second, when we admit of New Prophetical Spirits in this Age, without the uncontrollable tokens of Heavenly Authority.  
We are guilty of false interpretations of Providences, and Wonders; when we either make those to be Miracles that are none; or when we put a false sense on those that are real, when we make general events to have a private aspect, or particular accidents to have some universal signification. Though both these may seem at first to have the strictest appearance of Religion, yet they are the greatest usurpations on the secrets of the Almighty, and unpardonable praesumptions on his high Praerogatives of Punishment, and reward.  

Sect. XX. Experiments will not destroy the Doctrine of Prophecies, and Prodigies.  And now if a moderating of these extravagances must be esteemed profaneness, I profess, I cannot absolve the Experimental Philosopher. It must be granted, that he will be very scrupulous, in believing all manner of Commentaries on Prophetical Visions, in giving liberty to new predictions, and in assigning the causes, and marking out the paths of God's judgements, amongst his Creatures.  
He cannot suddenly conclude all extraordinary events to be the immediate Finger of God, because he familiarly beholds the inward workings of things: and thence perceives that many effects, which use to affright the Ignorant, are brought forth by the common Instruments of Nature. He cannot be suddenly inclined, to pass censure on men's eternal condition, from any Temporal judgements that may befall them; because his long convers with all matters, times, and places, has taught him, the truth of what the Scripture says, that all things happen alike to all. He cannot blindly consent to all imaginations of devout men, about future Contingencies: seeing he is so rigid, in examining all particular matters of Fact: He cannot be forward to assent to Spiritual Raptures, and Revelations: because he is truly acquainted with the Tempers of men's Bodies, the Composition of their Blood, and the power of Fancy: and so better understands the difference, between Diseases, and Inspirations.  
But in all this, he commits nothing, that is Irreligious. 'Tis true, to deny that God has heretofore warned the World of what was to come, is to contradict the very Godhead itself: But to reject the sense, which any private man shall fasten to it, is not to disdain the Word of God, but the opinions of men like ourselves. To declare against the possibility, that new Prophets may be sent from Heaven is to insinuat that the same infinite Wisdom which once showed itself that way, is now at an end. But to slight all pretenders, that come without the help of Miracles, is not a contempt of the Spirit, but a just circumspection, that the Reason of men be not overreached. To deny that God directs the course of human things, is stupidity: But to hearken to every Prodigy, that men frame against their Enemies, or for themselves, is not to reverence the Power of God, but to make that serve the Passions, and interests, and revenges of men.  
It is a dangerous mistake, into which many Good men fall; that we neglect the Dominion of God over the World, if we do not discover in every Turn of human Actions many supernatural Providences, and miraculous Events. Whereas it is enough for the honour of his Government, that he guides the whole Creation, in its wont course of Causes, and Effects: as it makes as much for the reputation of a Prince's wisdom, that he can rule his subjects peaceably, by his known, and standing Laws, as that he is often forced to make use of extraordinary justice to punish, or reward.  
Let us then imagine our Philosopher, to have all slowness of belief, and rigour of Trial, which by some is miscalled a blindness of mind, and hardness of heart. Let us suppose that he is most unwilling to grant that any thing exceeds the force of Nature, but where a full evidence convinces him. Let it be allowed, that he is always alarmed, and ready on his guard, at the noise of any Miraculous Event; lest his judgement should be surprised by the disguises of Faith. But does he by this diminish the Authority of Ancient Miracles? or does he not rather confirm them the more, by confining their number, and taking care that every falsehood should not mingle with them? Can he by this undermine Christianity, which does not now stand in need of such extraordinary Testimonies from Heaven? or do not they rather endanger it, who still venture all its Truths on so hazardous a chance? Who require a continuance of Signs, and Wonders, as if the works of our Saviour and his Apostles had not been sufficient: who ought to be esteemed the most carnally minded? the Enthusiast, that pollutes his Religion, with his own passions? or the Experimenter, that will not use it to flatter, and obey his own desires, but to subdue them? who is to be thought the greatest enemy of the Gospel? He that loads men's Faiths, by so many improbable things, as will go near to make the reality itself suspected? or he that only admits a few Arguments, to confirm the Evangelical Doctrines, but then chooses those, that are unquestionable? It cannot be an ungodly purpose to strive to abolish all Holy Cheats: which are of fatal consequence, both to the Deceivers, and those that are deceived: to the Deceivers, because they must needs be Hypocrites, having the artifice in their keeping: to the deceived, because if their eyes shall be ever opened, and they chance to find, that they have been deluded in any one thing, they will be apt not only to reject that, but even to despise the very Truths themselves, which they had before been taught by those deluders.  
It were indeed to be confessed, that this severity of Censure on Religious things, were to be condemned in Experimenters, if while they deny any wonders, that are falsely attributed to the True God, they should approve those of Idols or false Deities. But that is not objected against them. They make no comparison between his power, and the works of any others, but only between the several ways of his own manifesting himself. Thus if they lessen one heap yet they still increase the other: In the main they diminish nothing of his right. If they take from the Prodigies, they add to the ordinary Works of the same Author. And those ordinary Works themselves, they do almost raise to the height of Wonders, by the exact Discovery, which they make of their excellencies: while the Enthusiast goes near to bring down the price of the True, and Primitive Miracles, by such a vast, and such a negligent augmenting of their number.  

Sect. XXI. On his account Experiments are fit for the present Temper of our Nation.  By this I hope it appears, that this Enquiring, this scrupulous, this incredulous Temper is not the disgrace, but the honour of Experiments. And therefore I will declare them to be the most seasonable study, for the present Temper of our Nation. This wild amuzing men's minds, with Prodigies, and conceits of Providences, has been one of the most considerable causes of those spiritual distractions, of which our Country has long been the Theatre. This is a vanity, to which the English seem to have been always subject above others. There is scarce any Modern Historian, that relates our Foreign Wars, but he has this Objection against the disposition of our Countrymen, that they used to order their affairs of the greatest importance, according to some obscure Omens, or predictions, that passed about amongst them, on little or no foundations. And at this time, especially this last year, this gloomy, and illboding humour has prevailed. So that it is now the fittest season for Experiments to arise, to teach us a Wisdom, which springs from the depths of Knowledge, to shake off the shadows, and to scatter the mists, which fill the minds of men with a vain consternation. This is a work well-becoming the most Christian Profession. For the most apparent effect, which attended the passion of Christ, was the putting of an eternal silence, on all the false oracles, and dissembled inspirations of Ancient Times.  
There have been 'tis true, some peculiar occasions, wherein God was pleased to convince the World from Heaven, in a visible manner. But if we consider the Arguments that used to move him to it, we may conclude, that such wonderful signs are not often now to be expected.  
He has either done it, in Times of gross ignorance, or in the beginning of a new way of Religion, or for the peculiar punishment of some praevailing wickedness: Upon the account of the two first, we have no reason to expect Wonders in this Age: because all sorts of Knowledge do so much abound; and because we have a Religion already established, against which the Gates of Hell shall never praevail.  
The Third Time has been, when God has taken to himself, the Exemplary Punishment of some heinous Sin. From this indeed our Age is no more exempted, than it is free from those vices, that are wont to provoke the Divine Vengeance. This than we confess, that even at this present, God may declare himself, against the Iniquities of men, by the supernatural Tokens of his displeasure. But yet the Interpretation of such punishments ought to be handled, with the greatest tenderness. For as it is said of the last, and General Judgement, that no man knows the time, when it shall happen; so we may also affirm of these particular judgements: that there is no man, who understands the Circumstances, or occasions of their infliction, but they are one of the deepest parts of God's unsearchable Counsels.  
Whenever therefore a hevy calamity falls from Heaven on our Nation, a universal Repentance is required; but all particular applications of private men, except to their own hearts, is to be forborn. Every man must bewail his own Transgressions, which have increased the Public misery. But he must not be too hasty, in assigning the Causes of Plagues, or Fires, or inundations to the sins of other men. Whoever thinks that way to repent, by condemning the miscarriages of those parties, that differ from his own, and by reproving them, as the Authors of such mischiefs, he is grossly mistaken: For that is not to repent, but to make a satire: That is not an Act of humiliation, but the greatest Spiritual Pride.  
It is indeed a disgrace to the Reason, and honour of mankind, that every fantastical Humorist should presume to interpret all the secret Ordinances of Heaven; and to expound the Times, and Seasons, and Fates of Empires, though he be never so ignorant of the very common Works of Nature, that lie under his Feet. There can be nothing more injurious than this, to men's public, or private peace. This withdraws our obedience, from the true Image of God the rightful Sovereign, and makes us depend on the vain Images of his power, which are framed by our own imaginations. This weakens the constancy of human actions. This affects men with fears, doubts, irresolutions, and terrors. It is usually observed, that such presaging, and Prophetical Times, do commonly forerun great destructions, and revolutions of human affairs. And that it should be so is natural enough, though the presages, and prodigies themselves did signify no such events. For this melancholy, this frightful, this Astrological humour disarms men's hearts, it breaks their courage; it confounds their Councils, it makes them help to bring such calamities on themselves: First they fancy, that such ill accidents must come to pass: And so they render themselves fit subjects to be wrought upon, and very often become the instruments, to bring those effects about, which they fond imagined were inevitably threatened them from Heaven.  
The last accusation concerns that which is necessary to a holy life, 
Sect. XXII. Experiments not prejudicial to Mortification.  the mortifying of our Earthly desires. And here the men of a retired, and severe devotion are the loudest: For they tell us, that we cannot conquer, and despise the World while we study it so much; that we cannot have sufficient leisure to reflect on another life, while we are so taken up about the Curiosities of this: that we cannot be strict enough in correcting the irregularities of our own thoughts, while we give them so much liberty to wander, and so pleasant a Road wherein to travail; and that it is in vain to strive after the Purity, and Holiness of our minds, while we suffer them to spend so much time, on the labours of our Senses. This Objection appears at first sight somewhat terrible: But I come the more boldly to answer it, because there are involved in the same indictment, all the most innocent Arts, and civil Actions of men, which must either stand, or fall with Experiments in this Trial.  
First then I will allege, that if this sort of study, should be acknowledged not to be proper, for the promoting of the severer offices of Christianity, yet it would sufficiently recompense for that, by the assistance, it may bring to some other kinds of Christian Virtues: If it shall not fill our minds, with the most mortifying Images, which may rise from the terrors of God's justice, yet it will make amends for that, by inclining us to adore his Goodness. If it fits us not so well for the secrecy of a Closet: It makes us serviceable to the World. If it shall not seem to contribute towards Godly sorrow, or Contrition: It will give us more opportunities of Charity, Affability, Friendship, and Generosity, which are all of them divine Graces, as well as Faith, and Repentance.  
It is a great error to think that Religion does only consist in one sort of Duties. It is as various as the Dispositions, the Qualities, the Conditions of men: With some, the severe, the strict, the retired are best: with others, the bountiful, the affable, the cheerful, the friendly: Of both which kinds I will not say whether is to be preferred: But this is true, that while the first are chiefly limited to the regulating of our own Hearts, the influence of the last extends much farther; to spread the fame of the Gospel in the World; to make it appear lovely in the eyes of all beholders; and to allure them to submit to the honorableness, the gentleness, the easiness of its yoke. And this methinks is evident in our Saviors life: For whenever he intended to convert any to his Faith, he did it by some visible good Work, in the sight of the Multitude. But he never gained any Disciple by the conflicts, which he was pleased to undergo in his own mind; for he performed his Fast, and his Agony alone, in the Wilderness, and the Garden.  
In the next place I will affirm, That it is improbable that even the hardest and most rigorous parts of Mortification itself should be injured by these Studies more than others; seeing many duties of which it is composed, do bear some resemblance to the qualifications that are requisite in Experimental Philosophers. The spiritual Repentance is a careful survey of our former Errors, and a resolution of amendment. The spiritual Humility is an observation of our Defects, and a lowly sense of our own weakness. And the Experimenter for his part must have some Qualities that answer to these: He must judge aright of himself; he must misdoubt the best of his own thoughts; he must be sensible of his own ignorance, if ever he will attempt to purge and renew his Reason: So that if that be true, which is commonly observed, that men are wont to prove such kinds of Christians as they were men before; and that Conversion does not destroy, but only exalt our Tempers; it may well be concluded, that the doubtful, the scrupulous, the diligent Observer of Nature, is nearer to make a modest, a severe, a meek, an humble Christian, than the man of Speculative Science, who has better thoughts of himself and his own Knowledge.  
But I need not take so great a compass in this vindication, when it may be fairly maintained, that the true and unfeigned Mortification is not at all inconsistent with men's consulting of their happiness in this world, or being employed about earthly affairs. The honest pursuit of the conveniences, decences, and ornaments of a mortal condition, by just and regular ways, is by no means contradictory to the most real and severe duties of a Christian. It is true indeed, the irregular prosecution of such things is an offence to Religion: But so it is also to right Reason, and Nature itself.  
It is a wrong conception of the state of Grace, if men believe, that when they enter upon it, they must presently cast away all the thoughts and desires of humanity. If this were so, to sanctify our Natures were not to renew, but to destroy them. When we are commanded to put off the old man, we are not enjoined to renounce our Faculties of Reason. When we are bidden not to think our own thoughts, it is not intended that we should forbear all Natural Actions and Inclinations. Such Scriptures as these are to be understood in a moderate sense: By such expressions the irregularity of the Lust, and not the Natural Desire is condemned: The Piety and Innocence of our Lives, and not the utter change of our Estate, is recommended. Seeing the Law of Reason intends the happiness and security of mankind in this life; and the Christian Religion pursues the same ends, both in this and a future life; they are so far from being opposite one to another, that Religion may properly be styled the best and the noblest part, the perfection and the crown of the Law of Nature.  
I will therefore first demand, Whether it be not lawful for the strictest Christian to provide for the necessities of this life? This Request is modest enough: For if they deny it, they will reduce mankind into a condition which is literally worse than that of the Beasts that perish; seeing to them it is natural to seek out for all the ways of their own preservation. I will go on to ask them, Whether it be a breach of the Law of Christianity to labour for the advantages of Living, which are enjoyed by others? If this be refused me, we shall not deprive it of that honour which now justly belongs to it, that there is little civility at present amongst men without the Pale of the Christian Church.  
But in few words, let them tell me, Whether it be indispensably necessary for us to be always thinking of heavenly things? If so, how far short were the very Apostles of this character of Sanctity, which these men would prescribe us? What Traffic, what Commerce, what Government, what secular Employment could be allowed? Where should we at last make an end of refining? What would become of all the men of Trade themselves, of whom this Age has shown so many pretenders to the purest Religion?  
Let it only therefore be granted, that we are Men, and not Angels: Let it be confessed, that there may be an excess, as well as defect, in men's opinions of holiness: And then I will make no scruple to say, that the Philosopher defiles not his mind when he labours in the works of Nature; that the Diversion they give him, will stand with the greatest constancy, and the delight of pursuing them, with the truth and reality of Religion. But to say no more, How can it be imagined to be a sinful and carnal thing, to consider the objects of our Senses; when God, the most spiritual Being, did make them all? Since they first were conceived in his unspotted mind, why may they not innocently enter into ours? For if there be any pollution which necessarily flows from thinking of them, it might as well be concluded to stick on the Author, as on the Souls of them that only observe them.  
And now having insisted so long on the parts of the Christian Religion in general, 
Sect. XXIII. Experiments not dangerous to the Church of England.  it will be less needful that I should be large in vindicating this Design from the imputation of being praejudicial to the Church of England: For This has the same Interest with That, and differs in nothing from its Primitive Pattern, but only in the addition of some circumstances, which make it fit for this Age and this Place: And therefore they will both be strengthened by the same benefits, and weakened by the same mischiefs.  
What I have then to add concerning our Church, shall be comprised in these particulars: That it can never be praejudiced by the light of Reason, nor by the improvements of Knowledge, nor by the advancement of the Works of men's hands.  
For the proof of the First, it will be sufficient to consider its True Design, what Opinions it principally encounters, and by what Arguments it ought to defend itself.  
The true and certain interest of our Church is to derive its Doctrine from the plain and unquestioned parts of the Word of God, and to keep itself in a due submission to the Civil Magistrate. The Extremes which it opposes, are implicit Faith, and Enthusiasm: And it is a great mistake, if men think it cannot be maintained against these, but by the mutual Arguments of its Enemies; that it cannot withstand the Separatists, but by the Authority of the Church of Rome; nor descent from the Church of Rome, but on the Tenants of the Separatists. The grounds on which it proceeds are different from Both: And they are no other but the Rights of the Civil Power, the imitation of the First uncorrupt Churches, and the Scripture expounded by Reason: From whence may be concluded, that we cannot make War against Reason, without undermining our own strength, seeing it is the constant weapon we ought to employ.  
From this I will farther urge, That the Church of England will not only be safe amidst the consequences of a Rational Age, but amidst all the improvements of Knowledge, and the subversion of old Opinions about Nature, and introduction of new ways of Reasoning thereon. This will be evident, when we behold the agreement that is between the present Design of the Royal Society, and that of our Church in its beginning. They both may lay equal claim to the word Reformation; the one having compassed it in Religion, the other purposing it in Philosophy. They both have taken a like course to bring this about; each of them passing by the corrupt Copies, and referring themselves to the perfect Originals for their instruction; the one to the Scripture, the other to the large Volume of the Creatures. They are both unjustly accused by their enemies of the same crimes, of having forsaken the Ancient Traditions, and ventured on Novelties. They both suppose alike, that their Ancestors might err; and yet retain a sufficient reverence for them. They both follow the great Precept of the Apostle, of Trying all things. Such is the Harmony between their Interests and Tempers. It cannot therefore be suspected, that the Church of England, that arose on the same Method, though in different works; that Heroically passed thorough the same difficulties, that relies on the same Sovereign's Authority, should look with jealous eyes on this Attempt, which makes no change in the principles of men's consciences, but chiefly aims at the increase of Inventions about the works of their hands.  
This was the last Particular in this Subject which I undertook to make good, That our Church can never be impaired by the growth of the useful Arts of Life. But now I come nearer to it, I find that I may safely omit it: For the thing itself is so manifest, that there can be no ground of raising a Question about it. If our Church should be an Enemy to Commerce, Intelligence, Discovery, Navigation, or any sort of Mechanics; how could it be fit for the present Genius of this Nation? What greater advantage could its adversaries have against it? How should we be able to reconcile these two titles, which so justly belong to our King, of Defender of the Faith, and Patron of Experimental Knowledge.  
But in this I am not only incoraged to promise, that our Church will be out of all danger; but to recommend this Enterprise to it, as that which will become its other excellencies, and is most worthy of its protection. And I shall most humbly represent to its consideration, that this is not only an honourable Work, but even a necessary Duty, to which it is obliged by Natural Affection. The present Enquiring Temper of this Age was at first produced by the liberty of judging, and searching, and reasoning, which was used in the first Reformation. Though I cannot carry the Institution of the Royal Society many years back, yet the seeds of it were sown in King Edward the Sixth's, and Queen Elizabeth's Reign: And ever since that time Experimental Learning has still retained some vital heat, though it wanted the opportunities of ripening itself, which now it enjoys. The Church of England therefore may justly be styled the Mother of this sort of Knowledge; and so the care of its nourishment and prosperity peculiarly lies upon it.  
And indeed this is an honour which seems reserved for it alone. From all the several sorts of Enthusiasts, I fear, there cannot much help be expected towards such Works, till they shall have left off to abhor them under the Title of vain Philosophy.  
The Reformed Churches of other Countries, though they have given us many men, who have been eminent in this way, yet are not in a condition to promote it by themselves: For either they have not the encouragement of the Magistrate; or those that have, are cut so short in their Revenue, that they have scarce enough to support the Decence of their own Public Worship.  
The Church of Rome has indeed of late looked more favourably upon it. They will now condemn no man for asserting the Antipodes: The severity with which they handled Galileo, seems now very much abated: They now permit their jesuits to bestow some labours about Natural Observations, for which they have great advantages by their Travails; and their Clergy may justly claim some share in this honour, as long as the Immortal Names of Mersennus and Gassendus shall live.  
But still it is a question, Whether that Church does not rather connive at, than really intent its progress. They have indeed seized on some parts of New Philosophy; but perhaps it is only with the same policy that we often see great Monarches use, in retaining some out-Province of their Empire; who, though they find that the benefit does not countervail the charge of keeping it, yet will not wholly quit their Interest in it, lest their Neighbours should get possession, and fortify it against them. Thus it is likely they have cherished some Experiments, not out of zeal to the continuance of such Studies, but that the Protestants might not carry away all the glory, and thence withal get new strength to oppose them.  
This undertaking therefore is wholly cast on the Church of England, which can have no jealousy of its effects, to which Ignorance is not a support, but an Enemy; which aims not at the captivity, but the freedom of men's minds; which is lately returned to a prosperous condition, and having suffered with the Crown in its misfortunes, does now partake of the happy Fruits of its Restoration.  
Nor will Experimental Philosophy be unthankful for the assistance it shall receive: For it will enable us to provide before hand, against any alterations in Religious affairs, which this Age may produce. If we compare the changes to which Religion has been always subject, with the present face of things, we may safely conclude, that whatever vicissitude shall happen about it in our time, it will probably neither be to the advantage of implicit Faith, nor of Enthusiasm, but of Reason. The fierceness of violent Inspirations is in good measure departed: the remains of it will be soon chased out of the World, by the remembrance of the terrible footsteps it has every where left behind it. And though the Church of Rome still preserves its pomp, yet the Real Authority of that too is apparently decaying. It first got by degrees into Temporal Power, by the means of its Spiritual; but now it only upholds some shadow of the Spiritual, by the strength of the Temporal Dominion it has obtained.  
This is the present state of Christendom. It is now impossible to spread the same clouds over the World again: The universal Disposition of this Age is bend upon a rational Religion: And therefore I renew my affectionate request, That the Church of England would provide to have the chief share in its first adventure; That it would persist, as it has begun, to encourage Experiments, which will be to our Church as the British Oak is to our Empire, an ornament and defence to the soil wherein it is planted.  
Thus I have finished what I intended concerning Religion; wherein I desire it might not be thought that I have defended every particular Searcher into Nature. That could not be justly expected from me: For there is no man that makes an Apology for any General way, who will take upon him to make good all the actions of all private men who profess it. It is enough for my purpose, if it shall be granted, that however some Experimenters may be inclinable to irreligion; yet this rather proceeds from their own Genius, than from any corruption that could be contracted from these Studies; and that if the same men had professed Physic, or Law, or even Divinity itself, they would have been in like manner disaffected towards heavenly things.  
I cannot deny, but that some Philosophers, by their carelessness of a Future Estate, have brought a discredit on Knowledge itself: But what condition of men is free from such accusations? or why must we straight believe that their Impiety proceeds from their Philosophy? It is easy for men to fall into gross errors, and to mistake the wrong causes for the True, in the judgement which they make of others opinions and inclinations: When they behold them addicted to such or such Vices, and to have withal some good Qualities, in which they themselves do not excel, they presently are apt to imagine the bad to arise from the good, and so condemn both together; whereas perhaps it sprung from some other hidden cause, of which they took no notice.  
But let it be a true Observation, That many Modern Naturalists have been negligent in the Worship of God: yet perhaps they have been driven on this profaneness by the late extravagant excesses of Enthusiasm. The infinite pretences to Inspiration, and immediate Communion with God, that have abounded in this Age, have carried several men of wit so far, as to reject the whole matter; who would not have been so exorbitant, if the others had kept within more moderate Bounds. This is Natural enough to be supposed; for so it has commonly happened, that the greatest degrees of all contrary Opinions have met in the same Age, and have still heighthened and increased each other.  
From hence it may be gathered, That the way to reduce a real and sober sense of Religion, is not by indeavoring to cast a veil of Darkness again over the minds of men; but chiefly by allaying the violence of spiritual madness: and that the one extreme will decreas proportionably to the less'ning of the other.  
It is apparent to all, That the influence which Christianity once obtained on men's minds, is prodigiously decayed. The Generality of Christendom is now well-nigh arrived at that Fatal condition, which did immediately precede the destruction of the worships of the Ancient World; when the Face of Religion in their public Assemblies, was quite different from that apprehension which men had concerning it in private: In public they observed its Rules with much solemnity, but in private regarded it not at all. It is difficult to declare by what means and degrees we are come to this dangerous point: But this is certain, that the spiritual vices of this Age have well-nigh contributed as much towards it, as the Carnal: And for these, the most efficacious Remedy that man of himself can use, is not so much the sublime part of Divinity▪ as its intelligible, and natural, and practicable Doctrines. The Medicines for Religious distempers must be changeable according to the Diseases: And in this we may imitate Christ himself in his Method of healing men's Bodies: Some Cures he performed by his Voice, some by Prayer, but some by the Touch of his hands, and even by his spital mingled with Earth. In a gross and a sensual Age, the deepest Mysteries of our Religion may be proper, to purify the stupidity of men's spirits: But there must be an application of quite different and more sensible prescriptions, in a subtle, refined, or Enthusiastical time.  
Such is the present humour of the World; and such must be the course of its cure. Men must now be told, that as Religion is a heavenly thing, so it is not utterly avers from making use of the Rules of human Prudence, They must be informed, that the True Holiness is a severity over ourselves, and not others: They must be instructed, that it is not the best service that can be done to Christianity, to place its chief Precepts so much out of the way, as to make them unfit for men of business. They must remember, that the chief of the Apostles became all things to all men, that he might gain some. But above all, there must be caution given, that men do not strive to make themselves and their own opinions adored, while they only seem zealous for the honour of God. This is a fault which is very incident to men of devotion: For when they have once formed in themselves a Perfect Model of the Will of God, and have long confirmed their minds by continual thinking upon it, they are apt to contemn all others that agree not with them in some particulars. Upon this, they have straight the reproachful Term of Atheist to cast upon them; which though it be a Title that ought only to be employed against the bold and insolent defyers of Heaven in their words and actions, yet it is too frequently used to express the malice of any eager and censorious spirit, that has the confidence to object it.  
This, and all other the like Principles of uncharitableness, are to be opposed by asserting the duties of the Law of Nature, by the use of past, and present Times, by the Analogy of human things, by Moral Virtu, by the offices of society, by the contemplation of God's visible Works, and such easy and rational Arguments. Next to the succour of divine Power, this is the most probable way to preserve the Christian Faith amongst us: If God has not in his wrath resolved to transplant it into some other quarter of the Earth, which has not so much neglected his Goodness. This indeed were a revolution, which cannot be thought on without horror. The subversion of all Europe would attend it. The departure of the Christian Profession would be accompanied with as frightful effects, as those which followed on the Death of its Founder: When the Heavens were darkened, the Temple shook, the Veil was Rend, the Earth trembled, and the Philosopher had reason to cry out, that either Nature was dissolving, or the God of Nature dying.  

Sect. XXIV. Experiments advantageous to Manual Arts.  I will now enter on the next member of my Division, to consider the purpose of the Royal Society, and the probable effects of Experiments, in respect of all the Manual Trades, which have been heretofore found out, and adorned. And I will dispatch this Argument in the resolution of these Four Questions.  
Whether the Mechanic Arts are still improveable by human Industry?  
Whether it be likely, that they may be advanced by any others, besides the Mechanic Artists themselves?  
Whether there be any ground of hope from Experiments, towards this Work?  
And whether if such Arts shall hereby happen to multiply, they will not ruin those Trades, that are already settled?  
If in these particulars I shall Answer my Readers doubts, I trust it will be granted me, that it is not a vain or impossible Design, to endeavour the increase of Mechanic contrivances: that the enterprise is proper for a mixed Assembly: that the course, which they observe towards it will be effectual: and that the increase of such Operations will be inoffensive to others of the same kind, that have been formerly discovered.  
Before I examine these several heads apart, perhaps it will not be an impertinent labour, to take one general survey of the Principal Degrees, and occasions, by which the several Manufactures have risen, which beautify the face of the Earth, and have brought forth so much pleasure, and plenty amongst men.  
The First of all human Race, when they were dispersed into several Lands, were at first sustained by the Fruits of the Earth, which fell to their share. These at first they cherished, and used, not by any Rules of Art, but by that Natural sagacity which teaches all men, to endeavour their own preservation. For the peaceable enjoyment of these, they combined into Families, and little Leagues, which were the beginnings of Civil Government. But finding that all places did not bring forth all things, for Clothing, Food, and Defence; they either violently seized on what their Neighbours possessed, or else they fairly agreed on a mutual exchange of the productions of their soils. This Trafic was at first made in kind: And the Fruits that were thus bartered, were either spent, or planted in other Grounds. By this means mankind was maintained: and several Earth's were furnished by Labour, with what Nature bestowed not upon them. For this Commutation of their Fruits, and of the rude effects of their first industry, they began to devise the conveniencies of Carriage by Land, and Water: And to make it still easier, and larger; they agreed on some common things, to be the universal standard of value, and price: whence arose the use of Mony.  
This was the first Original of Trade, which from a narrow commerce between the Hills, the Valleys, the Woods, the Plains, and the Rivers, that bordered one upon another, is since extended to the whole compass of the Earth. For in course of Time, the small Clans, and Natural Commonwealths, were devoured by the strength of the greater; or else some of the wiser men reduced the Rude multitude into one place, and persuaded them to live quietly under Laws. From thence Mankind began to have the face of Civility, which arose at first, by that which is the best means of preserving it now, by the greatness, and enlargement of Dominion.  
Then first, all the differences of Living, and the advantages of Strength, and Empire did show themselves. Then some took on them to Rule, some to assist, or counsel those that Ruled, and some were forced to be subject to their Power. Thus the Riches, and Dominion, that were at first in common, were unequally divided: The Great, the Wise, or the Strong obtained a Principal share; and either persuaded, or constrained all the rest to serve them with their Bodies. Thence sprung all the Arts of convenience, and pleasure, while the one part of men would not be content to live according to the first plainess of Nature: and the other were compelled to work with their hands, for the ease, and pleasure of their Master's lives, and the support of their own. From these beginnings the Inventions of peace, and war, the delights of Cities, and Palaces, the delicacies of Food, the Curiosities of Clothing, the varieties of recreations took their rise. And these have still continued to increase, either by some casual discoveries, or by Luxury, or else as men have been driven by some new necessities, to pass on farther to attempt new ways of maintaining themselves.  
This is the most Natural Method of the foundation, 
Sect. XXV. The Manual Arts are still improveable.  and progress of Manual Arts. And they may still be advanced to a higher perfection, than they have yet obtained, either by the discovery of new matter, to employ men's hands; or by a new Transplantation of the same matter, or by handling the old subjects of Manufactures after a new way, in the same places.  
And First, we have reason to expect, that there may still arise new matter, to be managed by human Art, and diligence: And that from the parts of the Earth, that are yet unknown: or from the new discovered America: or from our own Seas, and Lands, that have been long searched into, and Inhabited.  
If ever any more Countries which are now hidden from us, 
First by new matter from new Lands.  shall be revealed, it is not to be questioned, but there will be also opened to our observation, very many kinds of living Creatures, of Minerals, of Plants, nay of Handicrafts, with which we have been hitherto unacquainted. This may well be expected if we remember, that there was never yet any Land, discovered, which has not given us divers new sorts of Animals, and Fruits, of different Features, and shapes, and virtues from our own, or has not supplied us with some new artificial Engine, and Contrivance.  
And that our Discoveries may still be enlarged to farther Countries, it is a good proof, that so many spacious shores, and Mountains, and Promontories, appear to our Southrens, and Northern Sailors; of which we have yet no account, but only such as could be taken by a remote prospect at Sea. From whence, and from the Figure of the Earth, it may be concluded, that almost as much space of Ground remains still in the dark, as was fully known in the Times of the Assyrian, or Persian Monarchy. So that without assuming the vain prophetic Spirit, which I lately condemned, we may foretell, that the Discovery of another new World is still behind.  
To accomplish this, there is only wanting the Invention of Longitude, which cannot now be far off, seeing it is generally allowed to be feasible, seeing so many rewards are ready to be heaped on the Inventors; and (I will also add) seeing the Royal Society has taken it, into its peculiar care. This if it shall be once accomplished, will make well-nigh as much alteration in the World, as the invention of the Needle did before. And then our Posterity may outgo us, as much as we can travail farther than the Ancients; whose Demigods, and Heroes did esteem it one of their chief exploits, to make a Journey as far as the Pillars of Hercules. Whoever shall think this to be a desperate business, they can only use the same Arguments, wherewith Columbus was at first made ridiculous: if he had been discouraged by the Raillery of his adversaries, by the judgement of most Astronomers of his time, and even by the entreaties of his own Companions, but three days before he had a fight of Land, we had lost the knowledge of half the World at once.  
And as for the new-discovered America: 
Sect. XXVI. Mechanics improveable by new matter from America.  'Tis true that has not been altogether useless to the Mechanic Arts. But still we may guess, that much more of its bounty is to come, if we consider, that it has not yet been shown above Two hundred years: which is scarce enough time, to travail it over, describe, and measure it, much less to pierce into all its secrets. Besides this, a good part of this space was spent in the Conquest, and settling the Spanish Government, which is a season improper for Philosophical discoveries. To this may be added, that the chief design of the Spaniards thither, has been the transportation of Bullion: which being so profitable, they may well be thought to have overseen many other of its Native Riches. But above all let us reflect on the temper of the Spaniards themselves. They suffer no strangers to arrive there: they permit not the Natives, to know more than becomes their slaves. And how unfit the Spanish humour is, to improve Manufactures, in a Country so distant as the West-Indies; we may learn by their practice in Spain itself: where they commonly disdain to exercise any Manual Crafts, and permit the profit of them, to be carried away by strangers.  
From all this, we may make this Conclusion, that if ever that vast Tract of Ground shall come to be more familiar to Europe, either by a free Trade, or by Conquest, or by any other Revolution in its Civil affairs: America will appear quite a new thing to us; and may furnish us with an abundance of Rarities both Natural, and Artificial; of which we have been almost as much deprived by its present Masters, as if it had still remained a Part of the unknown World.  

§. XXVII. By new matter from the World.  But Lastly to come nearer home, we have no ground to despair, but very much more matter, which has been yet unhandled, may still be brought to light, even in the most civil, and most Peopled Countries: whose Lands have been throughly measured, by the hands of the most exact Surveyors; whose underground Riches have been accurately pried into; whose Cities, Islands, Rivers, and Provinces, have been described by the labours of Geographers. It is not to be doubted, but still there may be an infinite number of Creatures, over our heads, round about us, and under our Feet, in the large space of the Air, in the Caverns of the Earth, in the Bowels of Mountains, in the bottoms of Seas, and in the shades of Forests: which have hitherto escaped all mortal Senses. In this the Microscope alone is enough to silence all opposers. Before that was invented, the chief help that was given to the eyes by Glasses, was only to strengthen the dim sight of old Age: But now by the means of that excellent Instrument, we have a far greater number of different kinds of things revealed to us, than were contained in the visible Univers before: And even this is not yet brought to perfection. The chief labours that are published in this way, have been the Observations of some Fellows of the Royal Society. Nor have they as yet applied it to all subjects, nor tried it in all materials, and Figures of Glass.  
To the eyes therefore there may still be given a vast addition of Objects: And proportionably to all all the other senses. This Mr. Hook has undertaken to make out, that Tasting, Touching, Smelling, and Hearing, are as improveable as the Sight: And from his excellent performances in the one, we may well rely on his promise in all the rest.  
The next Increase of Manual Arts, 
§. XXVIII. Mechanics Improvable by Transplantations.  which is probable to succeed, may happen by the farther Transplanting, and Communicating of the several Natural Commodities of all Nations, to other Airs, and other Soils, and other ways of Cultivation. That this is not yet finished is evident, in that there is no Land so well furnished, as to produce all the various sorts of things, which its ground and Temperature is capable to receive: and also because many of the most fertile Countries contain large spaces, that are utterly barren.  
This Work then may be farther advanced, by three kinds of endeavours.  
The First by Transplanting out of one Land into another, of the same situation in respect of the Heavens. This may be tried by conveying the Eastern Spices, and other useful Vegetables, into our Western Plantations. Nor can it be imagined, why they should thrive in one Indies, and not in the other; why the the Soil should not be as good where the Sunsets, as where it rises: Seing there are parts of both, which lie under the same influence of that, and the other Celestial Bodies, to whose kindly heat and Neighbourhood, the Oriental Nations are supposed to owe their advantages. This also may be attempted in our Northern Climates: As for instance, the Flax of which we stand so much in need, may prosper in Ireland, in many vast Tracts of Ground, now only possessed by wild Beasts, or Tories almost as wild.  
The second Advancement of this Work may be accomplished by carrying and transplanting living creatures and Vegetables from one Climate to another. This will be very beneficial, though it will be performed with a various success. Sometimes the Soil and the Air being changed, will give a new force to the new Guests; as the Arabian Horse, by mingling with our Breed, produces a more serviceable Race than either of them single. And sometimes the alteration will be for the worse; as the Vine of France brought into England, and the Horses and Dogs of England into France; both which are found to degenerate exceedingly: Their Soil, and their Sun, it seems, being fitter to produce things of pleasure and delight; and our Air and our Earth being more proper to beget valour and strength.  
The third way of communication to be tried, is by removing the Plants and the productions of the same Country from one part of it into another; and by practising every where all the sorts of Husbandry, which are used in some places with success. That this is not enough perfected even in England, is manifest to every one that beholds the Kentish Orchards, and the Herefordshire Hedges; which seem to upbraid the laziness of other Countries, whose Highways are only fenced with Thorns and Briars, or at the best with Hasel; while theirs are beautified with Apples, Pears, and Cherries.  
Now then, in every one of these Transplantations, the chief Progress that has hitherto been made, has been rather for the collection of Curiosities to adorn Cabinets and Gardens, than for the solidity of Philosophical Discoveries: Yet there may be a prodigious advantage made in them all, both for the one end and the other. And in this it will be found, as in many other things, that if men only intent a little curiosity and delight, they will reap not much more by their pains: But if they regard real use, not only the profit, but a greater delight will also follow thereon.  
And for our encouragement, whatever attempts of this Nature have succeeded, they have redounded to the great advantage of the Undertakers. The Orange of China being of late brought into Portugal, has drawn a great Revenue every year from London alone. The Vine of the Rhine taking root in the Canaries, has produced a far more delicious juice, and has made the Rocks and the Sunburnt Ashes of those Islands, one of the richest spots of Ground in the World. And I will also instance in that which is now in a good forwardness: Virginia has already given Silk for the clothing of our King; and it may happen hereafter to give clothes to a great part of Europe, and a vast Treasure to our Kings: If the Silkworms shall thrive there (of which there seems to be no doubt) the profit will be inexpressible. We may guests at it, by considering what numbers of Caravans, and how many great Cities in Persia, are maintained by that Manufacture alone, and what mighty Customs it yearly brings into the Sophi's Revenue.  
But if both these helps should chance to fail; 
Sect. XXIX. Mechanics improveable by the old matter of Arts.  if nothing new should ever come into our hands; and if there could be no farther alteration made by Transplanting; yet we may still take comfort, and rely on the old matter itself, on which all our present Arts have been devised. This certainly will take away all distrust in this business: For it may be observed, that the greatest part of all our New Inventions have not been raised from Subjects before untouched (though they also have given us very many) but from the most studied and most familiar things, that have been always in men's hands and eyes. For this I shall only instance in Printing, in the Circulation of the Blood, in Mr. boil's Engine for the sucking out of Air, in the making of Guns, in the Microscopical Glasses, and in the Pendulum Clocks of Hugenius. What might we have believed to be perfect, if not the Art of men's Communicating their thoughts one to another? What was nearer to them than their Blood, by which their Life subsists? And what more ready to be found out than its Motion? In what Subject had the wit of Artificers been more shown, than in the variety of Clocks and Watches? What thing was more in men's view than Glass, thorough which in the East-Countries the very Light itself is admitted, whereby we discern all things else? What more natural to us than the Air we breath? with which we form every word to express other things? What was more studied than the Art of Fight? What little Stratagem, or Fortification, or Weapon, could one have thought to have been concealed from the Greeks and Romans, who were so curious in the Discipline of War? And yet in all these the most obvious things, the greatest changes have been made by late Discoveries; which cannot but convince us, that many more are still to come from things that are as common, if we shall not be wanting to ourselves.  

Sect. XXX. Mechanics Improvable by the spreading of civility.  And this we have good reason to trust will be effected, if this Mechanic Genius, which now prevails in these parts of Christendom, shall happen to spread wider amongst ourselves, and other Civil Nations; or if by some good Fate it shall pass farther on to other Countries that were yet never fully civilised. We now behold much of the Northern Coasts of Europe and Asia, and almost all Afric, to continue in the rude state of Nature: I wish I had not an instance nearer home, and that I did not find some parts of our own Monarchy in as bad a condition. But why may we not suppose, that all these may in course of Time be brought to lay aside the untamed wildness of their present manners? Why should we use them so cruelly as to believe, that the goodness of their Creator has not also appointed them their season of polite and happy life, as well as us? Is this more unlikely to happen, than the change that has been made in the World these last seventeen hundred years? This has been so remarkable, that if Aristotle, and Plato, and Demosthenes, should now arise in Greece again, they would stand amazed at the horrible divastation of that which was the Mother of Arts. And if Caesar and Tacitus should return to life, they would scarce believe this Britain, and Gaul, and Germany, to be the same which they described: they would now behold them covered over with Cities and Palaces, which were then overrun with Forests and Thickets: they would see all manner of Arts flourishing in these Countries, where the chief Art, that was practised in their time, was that barbarous one of painting their Bodies, to make them look more terrible in Battle.  
This then being imagined, that there may some lucky Tide of Civility flow into those Lands, which are yet savage, there will a double improvement thence arise, both in respect of ourselves and them: For even the present skilful parts of mankind, will be thereby made more skilful; and the other will not only increase those Arts which we shall bestow upon them, but will also venture on new searches themselves.  
If any shall doubt of the first of these Advantages, let them consider, that the spreading of Knowledge wider, does beget a higher and a clearer Genius in those that enjoyed it before.  
But the chief Benefit will arise from the New Converts: For they will not only receive from us our old Arts, but in their first vigour will proceed to new ones that were not thought of before. This is reasonable enough to be granted: For seeing they come fresh and unwearied, and the thoughts of men being most violent in the first opening of their Fancies; it is probable they will soon pass over those difficulties about which these people that have been long Civil, are already tired. To this purpose I might give as many Examples as there have been different periods of Civilising; that those Nations which have been taught, have proved wiser and more dextrous than their Teachers. The Greeks took their first hints from the East; but outdid them in Music, in Statuary, in Graving, in Limning, in Navigation, in Horsemanship, in Husbandry, as much as the Egyptians or Assyrians exceeded their unskilful Ancestors in Architecture, Astronomy, or Geometry. The Germans, the French, the Britain's, the Spaniards, the modern Italians, had their light from the Romans; but surpassed them in most of their own Arts, and well-nigh doubled the ancient stock of Trades delivered to their keeping.  

Sect. XXXI. Mechanics are improveable by others besides Tradesmen.  So then, the whole Prize is not yet taken out of our hands: The Mechamic Invention is not quite worn away; nor will be, as long as new Subjects may be discovered, as long as our old materials may be altered or improved, and as long as there remains any corner of the World without Civility. Let us next observe, whether men of different ways of life are capable of performing any thing towards it, besides the Artificers themselves. This will quickly appear undeniable, if we will be convinced by Instances: For it is evident, that divers sorts of Manufactures have been given us by men who were not bred up in Trades that resembled those which they discovered. I shall mention Three; that of Printing, Powder, and the Bow-Dye. The Admirable Art of Composing Letters was so far from being started by a man of Learning, that it was the Device of a Soldier: And Powder (to make recompense) was invented by a Monk, whose course of life was most avers from handling the Materials of War. The ancient Tyrian Purple was brought to light by a Fisher; and if ever it shall be recovered, it is likely to be done by some such accident. The Scarlat of the Moderns is a very beautiful Colour; and it was the production of a Chemist, and not of a Dyer.  
And indeed the Instances of this kind are so numerous, that I dare in general affirm, That those men who are not peculiarly conversant about any one sort of Arts, may often find out their Rarities and Curiosities sooner, than those who have their minds confined wholly to them. If we weigh the Reasons why this is probable, it will not be found so much a Paradox, as perhaps it seems at the first Reading. The Tradesmen themselves, having had their hands directed from their Youth in the same Methods of Working, cannot when they pleas so easily alter their custom, and turn themselves into new Rhodes of Practice. Besides this, they chiefly labour for present livelihood, and therefore cannot defer their Expectations so long, as is commonly requisite for the ripening of any new Contrivance. But especially having long handled their Instruments in the same fashion, and regarded their Materials, with the same thoughts, they are not apt to be surprised much with them, nor to have any extraordinary Fancies, or Raptures about them.  
These are the usual defects of the Artificers themselves: Whereas the men of freer lives, have all the contrary advantages. They do not approach those Trades, as their dull, and unavoidable, and perpetual employments, but as their Diversions. They come to try those operations, in which they are not very exact, and so will be more frequently subject to commit errors in their proceeding: which very faults, and wander will often guide them into new light, and new Conceptions. And lastly there is also some privilege to be allowed to the generosity of their spirits, which have not been subdued, and clogged by any constant toil, as the others. Invention is an Heroic thing, and placed above the reach of a low, and vulgar Genius. It requires an active, a bold, a nimble, a restless mind: a thousand difficulties must be contemned, with which a mean heart would be broken: many attempts must be made to no purpose: much Treasure must sometimes be scattered without any return: much violence, and vigour of thoughts must attend it: some irregularities, and excesses must be granted it, that would hardly be pardoned by the severe Rules of Prudence. All which may persuade us, that a large, and an unbounded mind is likely to be the Author of greater Productions, than the calm, obscure, and fettered endeavours of the Mechanics themselves: and that as in the Generation of Children, those are usually observed to be most sprightly, that are the stolen Fruits of an unlawful Bed; so in the Generations of the Brains, those are often the most vigorous, and witty, which men beget on other Arts, and not on their own.  
This came seasonably in, 
§. XXXII. Mechanics best Improvable by Experiments.  to stop the undeserved clamours, which perhaps in this humorous Age, some Tradesmen may raise against the Royal Society, for entering within the compass of their Territories. Wherefore I proceed to my Third Particular, which I have aimed at in the Two former, that the surest increase remaining to be made in Manual Arts, is to be performed by the conduct of Experimental Philosophy. This will appear undeniable when we shall have found, that all other causes of such Inventions are defective: and that for this very reason, because the Trials of Art, have been so little united with the plain labours of men's hands.  
I have already given this account of the former Arts that we use, that the greatest Part of them has been produced, either by Luxury, or chance, or necessity: all which must be confessed to be mean, and ignoble causes of the Rational Mechanics.  
The First of these has been, that vanity, and intemperance of life, which the delights of Peace, and greatness of Empire have always introduced. This has been the original of very many extravagant Inventions of Pleasure: to whose Promotion, it is not requisite that we should give any help, seeing they are already too excessive. And indeed, if we consider the vast number of the Arts of Luxury, compared to the sound, and the substantial ones of use: we shall find that the wit of men has been as much defective in the one, as redundant in the other. It has been the constant error of men's labours in all Ages, that they have still directed them to improve those of pleasure, more than those of profit. How many, and how extravagant have been the Ornaments about Coaches? And how few Inventions, about new frames for Coaches, or about Carts, and Ploughs? What prodigious expense has been thrown away, about the fashions of clothes? But how little endeavours have there been, to invent new materials for Clothing, or to perfect those we have? The Furniture, and magnificence of Houses, is risen to a wonderful beauty within our memory: but few or none have throughly studied the well ordering of Timber, the hardening of Stone, the improvement of Mortar, and the making of better Bricks. The like may be shown in all the rest: wherein the solid Inventions are wont to be overwhelmed by gawdiness, and superfluity; which vanity has been caused by this, that the Artists have chiefly been guided, by the fancies of the rich, or the young, or of vain humorists, and not by the Rules, and judgements of men of Knowledge.  
The Second occasion that has given help to the increase of Mechanics has been Chance: For in all Ages by some casual accidents, those things have been revealed, which either men did not think of, or else sought for in vain. But of this the Benevolence is irregular, and most uncertain: This indeed can scarce by styled the work of a man. The Hart deserves as much prays of Invention, for lighting on the herb, that cures it; as the man who blindly stumbles on any profitable Work, without foresight, or consideration.  
The last that I shall allege is necessity. This has given rise to many great Enterprises: and like the cruel Stepmother of Hercules, has driven men upon Heroic Actions, not out of any tender affection, but hard usage. Nor has it only been an excellent Mistress to particular men, but even to whole States and Kingdoms. For which reason some have preferred a Barren Soil, for the Seat of an Imperial City, before a Fruitful: because thereby the inhabitants being compelled to take pains, and to live industriously, will be secure from the dangerous enchantments of plenty, and ease; which are fatal to the beginnings of all Commonwealths. Yet the defects of this severe Author of great Works, are very many. It often indeed engages men in brave attempts, but seldom carries them on to finish what they begin: It labours at first for want of Bread; and that being obtained it commonly gives over: It rather sharpens than enlarges men's Wits: It sooner puts them upon small shifts, than great designs: It seldom rises to high, or magnanimous things: For the same necessity which makes men inventive, does commonly depress, and fetter their Inventions.  
And now these Principal causes of Mechanic discoveries being found for the greatest part to be either corrupt, or weak: It is but just, that Reason itself should interpose, and have some place allowed it in those Arts, which ought to be the chief works of Reason. It is a shame to the dignity of human Nature itself, that either men's lusts should tempt them, or their necessities drive them, or blind fortune should lead them in the dark, into those things in which consists the chief Prerogative of their condition. What greater Privilege have men to boast of than this; that they have the power of using, directing, changing, or advancing all the rest of the Creatures? This is the Dominion which God has given us over the Works of his hands. And if we will either answer the expectations of Heaven, or deserve so high an honour, we ought rather to manage this Dominion by diligence, and Counsel, than by Chance, or Luxury, or Compulsion.  
It is impossible for us to administer this power aright, unless we prefer the light of men of Knowledge, to be a constant overseer, and director, of the industry, and Works of those that labour. The Benefits are vast, that will appear upon this conjunction. By this means the Inventions of chance will be spread into all their various uses, and multiplied into many new advantages: By this the Productions of necessity, will be amplified, and completed: By this those of Luxury, and Wantonness may be reduced to some solid ends: By this may be raised almost as certain a Method to invent new Mechanics, as now any particular Mechanics can practise, to produce their own Operations: By this the weak minds of the Artists themselves will be strengthened, their low conceptions advanced, and the obscurity of their shops enlightened: By this their thoughts will be directed to better Instruments, and Materials: By this their Poverty will be assisted, and they will be enabled to attempt more costly Trials: By this that will be amended, which has been hitherto the misfortune of such Inventions, that they have commonly fallen into men's hands, who understand not their Natures, uses, or improvements: By this the conceptions of men of Knowledge, which are wont to soar too high, will be made to descend into the material World: And the phlegmatic imaginations of men of Trade, which use to grovel too much on the ground, will be exalted.  
It was said of Civil Government by Plato, that then the World will be best ruled, when either Philosophers shall be chosen Kings, or Kings shall have Philosophical minds. And I will affirm the like of Philosophy. It will then attain to perfection, when either the Mechanic Laborers shall have Philosophical heads; or the Philosophers shall have Mechanical hands: For the proof of this I need only propose one instance, with which I am furnished by Antiquity; and it is of Archimedes: by this example alone, we may at once chastise the sloth of all Ages since his time, and confute the present contemners of Mechanic Knowledge. This Great man was one of the first who applied his skill, in the Mathematics, and Phisics, to the practices and motions of Manual Trades. And in these his success was so prodigious, that the true contrivances of his hands did exceed all the Fabulous strength, which either the Ancient stories, or modern Romances have bestowed on their Heroes. The weights he moved were so vast, and the Engines he framed had such dreadful effects, that his force could neither be resisted, by Seas, or Mountains, or Fleets, or Armies, which are the greatest powers of Nature, and Men. He alone sustained the burden of his falling Country: He alone kept the Romans at a Bay, to whom the whole World was to yield. And perhaps he had come off victorious at last, if he had not contended with the Fatal valour of Marcellus: amongst all whose exploits, these are recorded as the Two greatest, that he first showed that Hannibal might be subdued; and that he vanquished Syracuse, though it was defended by Archimedes.  

§. XXXIII. The invention of new Mechanics will not injure the old.  Thus far I hope the way is clear as I go: I have some confidence that I have sufficiently proved, that the Invention of Trades may still proceed farther, and that by the help of men of free lives, and by this course of Experiments. But yet the main difficulty continues unremoved. This arises from the suspicions of the Tradesmen themselves: They are generally infected with the narrowness that is natural to Corporations, which are wont to resist all new comers, as professed Enemies to their Privileges: And by these interessed men it may be objected, That the growth of new Inventions and new Artificers, will infallibly reduce all the old ones to poverty and decay.  
But to take off their fears in this particular, they are to be informed, That there are two sorts of Experiments which the Royal Society attempts in Mechanical matters. The first will be employed about the revising, changing, and correcting of the old Mechanics themselves: The second, about inventing of New. In the first of these they can have no ground of jealousy; seeing they are not intended to bring others over their heads, but only to beautify and fasten those which they already enjoy. And even this is a work so necessary to be done, that if there were not a continual reparation made in them, they would soon languish, and insensibly consume away into Barbarism: For the Arts of men's hands are subject to the same infirmity with Empire, the best Art of their minds, of which it is truly observed, that whenever it comes to stand still, and ceases to advance, it will soon go back and decreas.  
Hence it appears, that one part of Experiments, and that a very considerable part, is free from their Cavils. Let us then go on to the other kinds, which purpose the striking out of new Mechanics: Of these I will also assert the Innocence, in respect of their predecessors. In few words, the Old Arts are so far from being endangered by the New, that they themselves will receive a proportionable increase, as the New shall arise. The warmth and vigour which attends new Discoveries, is seldom wont to confine itself to its own Sphere, but is commonly extended farther to the ornament of its Neighbours. This is apparent in the degrees by which all Nations use to attain to a higher civility. The ordinary method wherein this happens, is the introduction of some one or two New Arts: For they appearing with great activity in the beginning, do not only establish themselves; but also by stirring and inflaming men's minds, by disgracing the laziness of other Artisans, and provoking them to an emulation, they are wont to bring an Universal light and Beauty on those Inventions into whose company they are brought.  
It is said of the Moral Virtues, that they have such a mutual dependence, that no man can attain to perfection in any one of them, without some degree of the other. And this also is certain in the Mechanic Arts: The connexion between them is so close, that they generally use to increase in the same measure. There is no Time, nor great City, which perfectly excels in any one of them, but it is thereby made more capable of admitting the rest, or of advancing them higher if they were admitted before.  
It is true indeed, the increase of Tradesmen is an injury to others, that are bred up in particular Trades, where there is no greater Employment than they can master: But there can never be an overcharge of Trades themselves. That Country is still the richest and most powerful, which entertains most Manufactures. The hands of men employed are true Riches: The saving of those hands by inventions of Art, and applying them to other Works, will increase those Riches. Where this is done, there will never a sufficient matter for profit be wanting: For if there be not vent for their productions at home, we shall have it abroad. But where the ways of Life are few, the fountains of Profit will be possessed by few; and so all the rest must live in Idleness on which inevitably ensues Beggary: Whence it is manifest, that Poverty is caused by the fewness of Trades, and not by the multitude.  
Nor is it enough to overthrow this, to tell us, that by this addition of Laborers all things will become dearer, because more must be maintained: For the high rate of things is an Argument of the flourishing, and the cheapness of the scarcity of Money, and ill peopling of all Countries. The first is a sign of many Inhabitants, which are true Greatness: The second is only a fit subject for Poets to describe, and to compare to their Golden Age: For where all things are without price or valu, they will be without Arts, or Empire, or Strength.  
I will explain all this by a Familiar and Domestic Instance. It is probable that there are in England a hundred times more Trades than the Saxons or the Danes found here in their Invasions; and withal the particular Traders live now more plentifully, and the whole Nation is wonderfully stronger than before. This also may be seen in every particular City: The greater it is▪ the more kinds of Artificers it contains; whose neighbourhood and number is so far from being an hindrance to each others gain, that still the Tradesmen of most populous Towns are wealthier than those who profess the same Crafts in Country Mercats.  
In England it has of late been a universal Murmur, that Trade decays; but the contrary is evident, from the perpetual advancement of the Customs: Whence then arises the complaint? From hence, that Traders have multiplied above the proportionable increase of Trades: By this means all the old ways of gain are over-stock'd, which would soon be prevented by a constant addition of new.  
The want of a right apprehending this, has always made the English avers from admitting of new Inventions, and shorter ways of labour, and from naturallizing New-people: Both which are the fatal mistakes that have made the Hollanders exceed us in Riches and Trafic: They receive all Projects, and all People, and have few or no Poor: We have kept them out and suppressed them, for the sake of the Poor, whom we thereby do certainly make the poorer.  
And here there is suggested to me a just occasion of lamenting the ill Treatment which has been most commonly given to Inventors; not only here in England, but in all Ages and Countries. Nor do they only meet with rough usage from those that envy their honour; but even from the Artificers themselves, for whose sakes they labour: while those that add some small matter to things begun, are usually enriched thereby; the Discoverers themselves have seldom found any any other entertainment than contempt and impoverishment. The effects of their Industry are wont to be decried while they live: The fruits of their Studies are frequently alienated from their Children: The little Tradesmen conspire against them, and endeavour to stop the Springs from whence they themselves receive nourishment: The common titles with which they are wont to be defamed, are those of Cheats and Projectors. I cannot deny, but many such do often mingle themselves in the noble Throng of Great Inquirers: As of old there were some that imitated Philosophers only in Beard and austerity; so I grant at this time there may false Experimenters and Inventors arise, who will strive to make themselves admired by the loud talking of Mathematical Engines, and Glasses, and Tools; and by sounding in every place such goodly words as Chemistry, and Agriculture, and Mechanics. But though the folly of such Pretenders cannot be avoided, we must not therefore reject the sober and the judicious Observers. It is better sometimes to endure vanities, than out of too much niceness to lose any real Invention. We ought to do with Philosophical Works, as Ministers of State with Intelligence. It is the wisest course to give encouragement to all; left by showing ourselves too scrupulous of being imposed on by falsehoods, we chance to be deprived of the knowledge of some important Truths.  
The next Particular which I resolved to handle, is the advantage of Experiments in respect of Physic. On this I intended to dilate in many words, both because of the great weight of the Subject, which concerns the very welfare and health of our lives, and also because it would afford me abundant matter for discourse: For certainly it were easy to prove, that there may still a vast progress be made in the True Art of Medicine, if either we consider the imperfection of the Method of the Ancient Physicians; or if we observe the nature of Diseases, which alter, and multiply upon us every Age; or if we reflect on the Cures themselves, and how little the Invention of new ones has hitherto been regarded.  
But as I was entering on this Subject, I perceived that I might safely omit it, seeing it is already better performed by Mr. Boyl, in his Book of the usefulness of Experimental Philosophy. I will therefore withdraw my Pen from this matter, which this Noble Gentleman has managed in the best and most powerful way, by using not only the force of Reason, but the conviction of particular Instances.  
And now with so good an omen as this Gentleman's Example, 
§. XXXIV. Experiments a proper Study for the Gentlemen of our Nation.  who has not disdained to adorn the honour of his Family with the Studies of Nature; I will go on to recommend them to the Gentry and Nobility of our Nation. And I am the more incoraged to make this Address, because I behold, that what I would advise is already in good measure accomplished; so that I shall not only have an occasion to exhort them to proceed, but to commend them also, for their present zeal towards these endeavours.  
In this indeed I have much reason to applaud the generous Breeding which has been given to the Experimental Knowledge of this Age and Country, above the base and contemptible Education of the Opinions of all former Sects: For now Philosophy being admitted into our Exchange, our Church, our Palaces, and our Court, has begun to keep the best Company, to refine its fashion and appearance, and to become the Employment of the Rich, and the Great, instead of being the Subject of their scorn: Whereas it was of old for the most part only the Study of the sullen, and the poor, who thought it the gravest part of Science to contemn the use of mankind, and to differ in habit and manners from all others, whom they slighted as madmen and fools. From this arrogant sordidness of such Principles, there could not be expected any Magnificent Works, but only ill-natured and contentious Doctrines. Whatever the Poets say of the Moral Wisdom, that it thrives best in Poverty; it is certain the Natural cannot: for in such mean and narrow conditions men perhaps may learn to despise the World, but never to know it.  
Now then, I will proceed not so much to exhort, as to confirm the Gentlemen of our Nation, in the prosecution of this Art, to which their Purses and their generous Labours are most necessary. And for their encouragement in this way, I will briefly lay before them the Priveleges they have for such Inquiries, above all the Gentry of our neighbour Nations, and above all the Nobility of former Ages in this Kingdom.  
One Principal help that they enjoy, for the promoting of these Studies of Peace, is the present constitution of the Interest of our Government. The chief design of the Ancient English was the glory of spreading their Victories on the Continent: But this was a magnanimous mistake: For by their very Conquests, if they had maintained them, this Island had been ruined, and had only become a Province to a greater Empire. But now it is rightly understood, that the English Greatness will never be supported or increased in this Age, by any other Wars but those at Sea: and for these the Service of the Multitude is fitter than of Gentlemen This we have beheld practised these last twenty years, wherein our Naval Strength has more than trebled itself: For though some few Gentlemen have still mingled themselves in those gallant actions; yet the gross of our Fleets have consisted of common men, and of Mariners, who are bred up in the rude toils of such a life.  
As this Observation may raise us to the greater admiration of their Valour, that such Magnanimity should be found amongst the meanest of the people; so it should also suggest to our Gentlemen, who by this means are at liberty from the employments of greatest danger, that they ought to undertake these, which will give them as great, though a securer honour. Nor will it be a disgrace to them, that the fight for their Country is cast on men of lower ranks, if in the mean time they shall strive to enlighten and adorn, while the other defend it: For the same is ordained by Nature itself in the order and offices of her works: The Heavenly Bodies appear to move quietly above, to give light, and to cherish the World with a gentle influence; while the Instruments of War and offence are taken out of the Bowels of the Earth.  
For the improvement of these Arts of peaceable Fame, they have indeed another Privilege, which can scarce be equalled by any Kingdom in Europe: and that is the convenience and benefit of being scattered in the Country. And in truth, the usual course of life of the English Gentlemen is so well placed between the troublesome nois of pompous Magnificence, and the baseness of avaricious Sordidness; that the true happiness of living according to the rules and pleasures of uncorrupt Nature, is more in their power than any others. To them, in this way of life, there can nothing offer itself, which may not be turned to a Philosophical Use. Their Country Seats being removed from the Tumults of Cities, give them the best opportunity, and freedom of Observations. Their Hospitality, and familiar way of conversing with their Neighbourhood, will always supply them with Intelligence. The leisure which their retirements afford them is so great, that either they must spend their thoughts about such attempts, or in more chargeable and less innocent divertisements. If they will consider the Heavens, and the motions of the Stars, they have there a quieter Hemisphere, and a clearer Air for that purpose. If they will observe the generations, breed, diseases, and Cures of living Creatures: their Stables, their Stalls, their Kennels, their Parks, their Ponds, will give them eternal matter of inquiry. If they would satisfy their minds with the advancing of Fruits, the beautifying, the ripening, the bettering of Plants; their Pastures, their Orchards, their Groves, their Gardens their Nurseries, will furnish them with perpetual contemplations. They may not only make their business but their very sports most serviceable to Experimental Knowledge. For that if it be rightly educated, will stand in need of such recreations, as much as the Gentlemen themselves: from their hunting, hawking, fishing, and fowling, that is able to receive as much solid profit, as they delight.  
On both these accounts, the English Gentry has the advantage of those of France, Spain, Italy, or Germany: who are generally either shut up in Towns, and dream away their lives in the diversions of Cities: or else are engaged to follow their Prince's Wills to foreign Wars.  
Nor do they only excel other Nations in such opportunities, but our own Nobility of all former Times. First they are now far more numerous, and so more may be spared from the civil business of their Country. Besides this, they are now bred up, and live in a quite different fashion. The course of their Ancestors lives was grave, and reserved: They conversed with few, but their own Servants: and seldom travelled farther than their own Lands: This way served well enough to keep up their State, and their Port: But not to help their understandings. For the formalities of life do often counterfeit Wisdom, but never beget it. Whereas now they are engaged in freer roads of Education: now the vast distance between them, and other orders of men is no more observed: now their conversation is large, and general: now the World is become more active, and industrious: now more of them have seen the use, and manners of men, and more apply themselves to Trafic, and business than ever.  
This alteration has been caused in our memory, either by so many Families being advanced to the highest degrees of Nobility, for their excelling in the Arts of the Gown: or by their frequent intermarriages with Citizens: or by the travails of the King, and the Royal Family: or else by the Civil War itself; which is always wont to be the cruelest Tyrant, or the best Reformer: either utterly to lay waist, or to civilize, and beautify, and ripen the Arts of all Countries. And still we have reason to expect, that this change will proceed farther, for the better: if our Gentlemen shall more condescend to engage in commerce, and to regard the Philosophy of Nature.  
The First of these since the King's return, has been carried on with great vigour, by the Foundation of the Royal Company: to which as to the Twin-Sister of the Royal Society, we have reason as we go along, to wish all Prosperity. In both these Institutions begun together, our King has imitated the two most famous Works of the wisest of ancient Kings: who at the same time sent to Ophir for Gold, and composed a Natural History, from the Cedar to the Shrub.  
Nor ought our Gentry to be avers from the promoting of Trade, out of any little jealousy, that thereby they shall debase themselves, and corrupt their Blood. For they are to know, that Trafic, and Commerce have given mankind a higher degree than any title of Nobility, even that of Civility, and Humanity itself. And at this time especially above all others, they have no reason to despise Trade as below them, when it has so great an Influence on the very Government of the World. In former ages indeed this was not so remarkable. The Seats of Empire, and Trade were seldom, or never the same. Tyre, and Sydon, and Cades, and Marseiles had more Trafic, but less command than Rome, or Athens, or Sparta, or Macedon. But now it is quite otherwise. It is now most certain that in those Coasts, whither the greatest Trade shall constantly flow, the greatest Riches, and Power will be established. The cause of this difference between the ancient times, and our own, is hard to be discovered: perhaps it is this, that formerly the greatest part of the World lived rudely, on their own Natural Productions: but now so many Nations being Civilised, and living splendidly, there is a far greater consumption of all foreign Commodities; and so the gain of Trade is become great enough to overbalance all other strength: Whether this be the reason, or no, it matters not: But the observation is true. And this we see is sufficiently known to all our Neighbours, who are earnestly bend upon the advancing of Commerce, as the best means, not only to enrich particular Merchants, but to enlarge their Empire.  
The next thing to be recommended to the Gentlemen of England, has a near kindred with the other: and that is the Philosophy of Nature, and Arts. For the want of such an easy course of studies, so many of them have miscarried in their first years, and have ever after abhorred all manner of sober Works. What else do signify the universal complaints of those who direct the Education of great men's Children? Why do they find them so hard to be fixed to any manner of Knowledge? Their Teachers indeed are wont to impute it to the delicacy of their breeding, and to their Mother's fondness. But the chief cause of the mischief lies deeper. They fill their heads with difficult, and unintelligible Notions, which neither afford them pleasure in learning, nor profit in remembering them: they chiefly instruct them in such Arts, which are made for the beaten tracks of professions, and not for Gentlemen. Whereas their minds should be charmed by the allurements, of sweeter and more plausible Studies: And for this purpose Experiments are the fittest. Their Objects they may feel and behold: Their productions are most popular: Their Method is intelligible, and equal to their capacities: so that in them they may soon become their own Teachers.  
Nor are they to contemn them for their plainess, and the homely matters, about which they are often employed. If they shall think scorn to foul their fingers about them on this account, let them cast their eyes back on the Original Nobility of all Countries. And if that be true, that every thing is preserved and restored by the same means which did beget it at first: they may then be taught, that their present Honour cannot be maintained by intemperate pleasures, or the gaudy shows of pomp; but by true Labours, and Industrious Virtu: Let them reflect on those great men who first made the name of Nobility venerable. And they shall find that amidst the Government of Nations, the dispatch of Armies, and nois of Victories, some of them disdained not to work with a Spade, to dig the Earth, and to cultivate with Triumphing hands, the Vine, and the Olive. These indeed were times, of which it were well if we had more footsteps, than in ancient Authors. Then the minds of men were innocent, and strong, and bountiful as the Earth in which they laboured. Then the vices of human Nature were not their Pride, but their Scorn. Then Virtu was itself, neither adulterated by the false Idols of Goodness; nor puffed up by the empty forms of Greatness: as since it has been in some Countries of Europe, which are arrived at that corruption of manners, that perhaps some severe Moralists will think it had been more needful for me to persuade the men of this Age, to continue Men, than to turn Philosophers.  
But in this History I will forbear all farther complaints, which are scarce acceptable to the humour of this time, even in our Divine, and Moral works, in which they are necessary. I therefore return to that which I undertook, to the agreeableness of this design to all conditions, and degrees of our Nobility. If they require such Studies as are proportionable to the greatness of their Titles: they have here those things to consider, from whence even they themselves fetch the distinctions of their Gentility. The Minerals, the Plants, the Stones, the Planets, the Animals, they bear in their Arms, are the chief Instruments of Heraldry, by which those Houses are exalted above those of the vulgar. And it is a shame for them to boast of the bearing of those Creatures they do not understand. If they value the Antiquity of Families, and long race of Pedigrees: What can be more worthy their consideration, than all the divers lineages of Nature? These have more proof of their ancient descent that any of them can show. For they have all continued down in a right line, from Cause to Effect; from the Creation to this day. If they shall confine themselves to the Country, they have this for there cheap diversion. If they return to the City, this will afford them in every Shop occasions to inform their judgements, and not to devour their Estates. If they go forth to public service, to the leading of Armies, or Navies, they have this for their perpetual Counsellor, and very often for their preserver. There are so many Natural, and Mechanical things, to be accurately observed by the greatest Captains, as the advantages of different Arms, and ammunitions, the passages of Rivers, the straits of Mountains, the course of Tides, the signs of Wether, the Air, the Sun, the Wind, and the like: that though I will not determine the Knowledge of Nature, to be absolutely necessary to the great office of a General; yet I may venture to affirm that it will often prove a wonderful assistance and ornament, to the course of Glory which he pursues.  
All Histories are full of Examples of the great accidents, which have happened by the ignorance of chief Commanders in Natural Motions, and effects; of these I will only instance in Three: The First is of Caesar himself, who had Conquered more Countries than most Travellers have seen, and gained more Battles than others have read of; yet he had like to have put a period to all his Victories, by the want of an exact skill in one of the commonest Works of Nature. This he himself relates in his second passage into Britain; when his Army was so dismayed at the ebbing of the Sea from their Fleet, believing it to be a Stratagem of their Enemies, that scarce the courage and conduct of Caesar, could hinder them from being terrified to their own overthrow, which had been a fatal misfortune to the Britain's, as well as Romans; because from his victorious Arms, we first received the dawn of Civil Arts. The next instance of this kind is the mischance which befell the Christian Army in Egypt, in the time of the Holy Wars. Their strength was great and irresistible, if they had only understood that which every Egyptian could have taught them the course, and the Time of the overflowing of the Nile. For the want of that slender knowledge, the bravest men of all Christendom, were led up to the neck in the River, and were forced to yield to their Enemy's conditions without striking a stroke. This was occasioned by the stupidity of the Cardinal, who commanded them; if he had been less skilful in the Schoolmen, and more in Nature, that dreadful disaster had never happened. My Third Example of this kind is to be found in the Roman History: The Roman Army was just ready to join Battle, with one of their Enemies: the sign was given for their onset: their force was equal: a terrible combat had like to have ensued: when on the sudden the Sun was Eclypsed: of this the Romans were warned the day before. But this surprised the other with so great affright, that they were immediately vanquished. So that not the bravest Men, nor the greatest Army, nor the best provisions of War got the Victory: but that Party which had the best Natural Philosopher on its side.  
To this address which I have made to our Nobility, 
§ XXXV. Experiments will be beneficial to our wits and Writers.  and Gentry, I will add as an appendix another benefit of Experiments, which perhaps it will scarce become me to name amidst so many matters of greater weight: and that is, that their discoveries will be very serviceable to the Wits, and Writers of this, and all future Ages. But this I am provoked to mention by the consideration of the present Genius of the English Nation; wherein the study of Wit, and humour of Writing prevails so much, that there are very few conditions, or degrees, or Ages of Men who are free from its infection. I will therefore declare to all those whom this Spirit has possessed, that their is in the Works of Nature an inexhaustible Treasure of Fancy, and Invention, which will be revealed proportionably to the increase of their Knowledge.  
To this purpose I must premise, that it is required in the best, and most delightful Wit; that it be founded on such images which are generally known, and are able to bring a strong, and a sensible impression on the mind. The several subjects from which it has been raised in all Times, are the Fables, and Religions of the Ancients, the Civil Histories of all Countries, the Customs of Nations, the Bible, the Sciences, and Manners of Men, the several Arts of their hands, and the works of Nature. In all these, where there may be a resemblance of one thing to another, as there may be in all, there is a sufficient Foundation for Wit. This in all its kinds has its increases, heigths, and decays, as well as all other human things: Let us then examine what Parts of it are already exhausted, and what remain new, and untouched, and are still likely to be farther advanced.  
The Wit of the Fables and Religions of the Ancient World is well-nigh consumed: They have already served the Poets long enough; and it is now high time to dismiss them; especially seeing they have this peculiar imperfection, that they were only Fictions at first: whereas Truth is never so well expressed or amplified, as by those Ornaments which are True and Real in themselves.  
The Wit which is raised from Civil Histories, and the Customs of Countries, is solid and lasting: The Similitudes it affords are substantial, and equal to the minds of men, being drawn from themselves and their own actions. Of this the wittiest Nations have always made the greatest use; their writings being adorned with a Wit that was free of their own Cities, consisting of Examples, and Apothegms, and Proverbs, derived from their Ancestors. This I allege, because this kind is scarce yet begun in the English Language; though our own Civil History abounds as much as any other, with great Examples and memorable Events, which may serve for the ornament of Comparison.  
The Manners and Tempers, and Extravagances of men are a standing and eternal foundation of Wit: This if it be gathered from particular Observations, is called Humour: And the more particular they are, they are still the pleasanter. In this kind I may well affirm that our Nation excels all others, as our Dramatic Poetry may witness.  
The Wit that may be borrowed from the Bible is magnificent, and as all the other Treasures of Knowledge it contains, inexhaustible. This may be used and allowed without any danger of profaneness. The Ancient Hethens did the same: They made their Divine Ceremonies the chief Subjects of their Fancies: By that means their Religions had a more awful impression, became more popular, and lasted longer in force than else they would have done. And why may not Christianity admit the same thing, if it be practised with sobriety and reverence? What irreligion can there be in applying some Scripture-expressions to Natural things? Why are not the one rather exalted and purified, than the other defiled by such applications? The very Enthusiasts themselves, who are wont to start at such Wit as Atheistical, are more guilty of its excesses than any other sort of men: For whatever they allege out of the Historical, Prophetical, or Evangelical Writings, and apply it to themselves, their Enemies, or their Country, though they call it the mind of God, yet it is nothing else but Scripture-comparison and Similitude.  
The Sciences of men's brains are none of the best Materials for this kind of Wit. Very few have happily succeeded in Logical, Metaphysical, Grammatical, nay even scarce in Mathematical Comparisons; and the reason is, because they are most of them conversant about things removed from the Senses, and so cannot surprise the fancy with very obvious, or quick, or sensible delights.  
The Wit that is founded on the Arts of men's hands is masculine and durable: It consists of Images that are generally observed, and such visible things which are familiar to men's minds. This therefore I will reckon as the first sort, which is still improvable by the advancement of Experiments.  
And to this I will add the Works of Nature, which are one of the best and most fruitful Soils for the growth of Wit. It is apparent, that the defect of the Ancients in Natural Knowledge did also straighten their Fancies: Those few things which they knew, they used so much, and applied so often, that they even almost wore them away by their using. The sweetness of Flowers, and Fruits, and Herbs, they had quite devoured: They had tired out the Sun, and Moon, and Stars with their Similitudes, more than they fancy them to be wearied by their daily journeys round the Heavens.  
It is now therefore seasonable for Natural Knowledge to come forth, and to give us the understanding of new Virtues and Qualities of things; which may relieve their fellow-creatures, that have long born the burden alone, and have long been vexed by the imaginations of Poets. This charitable assistance Experiments will soon bestow. The Comparisons which these may afford will be intelligible to all, because they proceed from things that enter into all men's Senses. These will make the most vigorous impressions on men's Fancies, because they do even touch their Eyes, and are nearest to their Nature. Of these the variety will be infinite; for the particulars are so, from whence they may be deduced: These may be always new and unsullied, seeing there is such a vast number of Natural and Mechanical things, not yet fully known or improved, and by consequence not yet sufficiently applied.  
The use of Experiments to this purpose is evident, by the wonderful advantage that my Lord Bacon received from them. This excellent Writer was abundantly recompensed for his Noble Labours in that Philosophy, by a vast Treasure of admirable Imaginations which it afforded him, wherewith to express and adorn his thoughts about other matters. But I will not confine this Observation to one single Author, though he was one of the first and most artificial Managers of this way of Wit. I will venture to declare in general of the English Tongue, That as it contains a greater stock of Natural and Mechanical Discoveries, so it is also more enriched with beautiful Conceptions, and inimitable Similitudes, gathered from the Arts of men's hands, and the Works of Nature, than ever any other Language could produce.  
And now I hope what I have here said will prevail something with the Wits and Railleurs of this Age, to reconcile their Opinions and Discourses to these Studies: For now they may behold that their Interest is united with that of the Royal Society; and that if they shall decry the promoting of Experiments, they will deprive themselves of the most fertile Subject of Fancy: And indeed it has been with respect to these terrible men, that I have made this long digression. I acknowledge that we ought to have a great dread of their power: I confess I believe that New Philosophy need not (as Caesar) fear the pale, or the melancholy, as much as the humorous, and the merry: For they perhaps by making it ridiculous, because it is new, and because they themselves are unwilling to take pains about it, may do it more injury than all the Arguments of our severe and frowning and dogmatical Adversaries.  
But to gain their good will, I must acquaint them, That the Family of the Railleurs is derived from the same Original with the Philosophers. The Founder of Philosophy is confessed by all to be Socrates; and he also was the famous Author of all Irony. They ought therefore to be tender in this matter, wherein the honour of their Common Parent is concerned: it becomes them to remember, that it is the fault, and not the excellence of Wit, to defile its own Nest, and not to spare its own Friends and Relations, for the sake of a jest.  
The truth is, The Extremes of Raillery are more offensive than those of Stupidity: It is a work of such a tender and subtle spirit, that it cannot be decently performed by all pretenders to it: Nor does it always agree well with the Temper of our Nation; which as it has a greater courage than to suffer derision, so it has a firmer virtu than to be wholly taken up about deriding of others. Such men are therefore to know, That all things are capable of abuse from the same Topics by which they may be commended; they are to consider, That Laughter is the easiest and the slenderest fruit of Wit; they are to understand, That it proceeds from the observation of the deformity of things; but that there is a nobler and more masculine pleasure, which is raised from beholding their Order and Beauty: From thence they may conclude, how great the difference is between them, and the real Philosophers: For while Nature has only formed them to be pleased with its irregularities and monsters, it has given the other the delight of knowing and studying its most beautiful Works.  
In plain terms, a universal abuse of every thing, though it may tickle the fancy never so much, is inhuman madness; as one of the Ancients well expresses it, who calls such mirth humanis Bacchari rebus. If all things were made the subjects of such humour, all worthy designs would soon be laughed out of the World; and for our present sport, our Posterity would become barbarous. All good Enterprises ought to find assistance when they are begun, applaus when they succeed, and even pity and prais if they fail. The true Raillery should be a defence for Good and Virtuous Works, and should only intend the derision of extravagant, and the disgrace of vile and dishonourable things. This kind of Wit ought to have the nature of Salt, to which it is usually compared; which preserves and keeps sweet the good and the sound parts of all Bodies, and only frets, dries up, and destroys those humours which putrify and corrupt.  
This pleasant but unprofitable sort of men being thus dismissed with this fair admonition; 
§ XXXVIII Experiments advantageous to the Interest of our Nation.  It now follows in the last place, that I examine the Universal Interest of the English Nation, and consider what effect the Works of the Royal Society are like to have upon it, by what means their Labours may serve to encreas our advantages, and correct our imperfections. In the entrance of this Subject there are so many things presented to my thoughts, which are worthy to be declared to my Countrymen, that I rather think it ought to be largely managed by itself, than to be huddled up in the end of this Treatise: And certainly there is scarce any matter that more deserves to be handled by the best of our English Wits, than the Interest of their Country. I do therefore take the freedom to recommend it to their hands; and to beseech them to raise their thoughts from slighter businesses, from unmanly flatteries, or vanities of Love, or useless Burlesque, to this grave and this Noble Argument; and to remember, that if Themistocles was in the right, when he praefered the making of a small City great, before the playing on a Fiddle, then certainly it is the bravest employment for a worthy mind, to endeavour to make a great Kingdom greater.  
There are very many things in the Natural Genius of the English, which qualify them above any other for a Governing Nation. The situation of our Country is most advantageous for Command: It's native productions are most serviceable for strength and Empire: The disposition of the people is bold in dangers, severe in Discipline, valiant in Arms, virtuous in Life, relenting to the afflicted, and merciful in Conquest. The unfortunat Divisions by which our Force has been of late distracted, are but of one or two Ages growth; the Vices to which we are subject are not natural to our Soil, but imported hither from foreign Countries: The English Generosity, Fidelity, Magnanimity, Modesty, Integrity, they owe to themselves; their Luxury, their Debauchery, their Divisions, their Spiritual Schisms, they have received from abroad.  
And now what can be a greater work than the management of all these matters? Here the Writer might have occasion of doing right to the honour of his Country, and yet reproving its faults with a just censure: He might explain the weaknesses and advantages of our Kingdom: He might remove the one, and confirm the other: He might compare the Actions of our Ancestors with the Manners of this Time, and show by what degrees this dissolution of goodness crept in: He might with a generous and tender hand, apply himself to the cure of our Religious Distempers: He might with irresistible Arguments attempt to amend what is amiss, restore the good, and by the power of Domestic Examples reduce us back to the ancient sincerity of dealing, and innocence of Life, and union of Interests.  
The desire of seeing this work performed, sits so much on my mind, that I cannot but once more represent it to the consideration of the many eloquent and judicious Authors, with whom our Nation is now more abundantly furnished than ever. But if neither the necessity nor usefulness of the Subject, nor the benefit of their Native Land, will prevail with them to set upon it; it is my purpose to excite them by another way, which will indeed be hazardous to my own reputation, yet perhaps may take effect. I will try the same stratagem which I have often seen unskilful Singers use, to make those who have excellent voices show their Art: For as they by ill singing some excellent Tune are wont to provoke the others to sing, when no persuasions could move them; so do I intend at my first leisure, by ill handling of this Noble Subject, to stir up men of greater abilities to employ their skill and their judgement about it.  
Having thus taken this task on myself, it will not be needful here to insist long upon it before hand: I will only in few words declare, That it is the True concernment of England to secure itself from the Dominion of Strangers, both Ecclesiastical and Temporal; to advance its Industry in peaceful Arts; to increase its people; to improve its own Manufactures; to introduce the foreign, of which our soil is capable; to make use of the two Kingdoms that are joined with it under the same Monarch, for those productions which grow not at home; to obtain a union of mind, both in Civil and Spiritual Matters; and to preserve the ancient form of Government.  
Of all these I will only touch upon those parts of our Interest which have reference to the design of the Royal Society.  
The first thing that ought to be improved in the English Nation, is their Industry. This, it is true, has of late years been marvellously advanced: as may be shown, by the enlarging of Trafic, the spreading of many Fruits, the plantations of Trees, and the great improvement of Manual Arts. But it is evident, that it may still admit of farther warmth, and activity: as we may conclude, by the want of employment for younger Brothers, and many other conditions of men; and by the number of our poor, whom Idleness, and not infirmities do impoverish. The way to compass this, is not alone by Acts of Parliament, and good Laws: whose force will soon be evaded by present Craft, and interpretation, or else will be antiquated by time. This perhaps our Country has found above all others: If our Laborers had been as diligent, as our Lawgivers, we had proved the most laborious Nation under Heaven. But the true Method of increasing Industry, is by that course which the Royal Society has begun in Philosophy, by Works, and endeavours, and not by the prescriptions of words, or Paper Commands.  
There is nothing whose promoting is so easy as diligence, when it is once set on foot. This does not only propagat works but workers: Though at first it may begin on necessity, yet it will afterwards proceed upon pleasure: So that the farther it goes, the swifter it advances because willing works are sooner performed than those to which we are compelled. This I will demonstrate by an instance which I have already alleged, and it is of the Hollanders: For we may fetch examples of virtu from our own Countrymen, but of Industry from them. At first they were as lazy as the worst of ours: their hands were unused to labour: their manner of life was much like that of the Ancient Britain's: their Coasts lay desolate to the Sea, without Banks, or Towns, or Ships, or harbours: and when the Roman Emperor gathered Cockles there, perhaps there was little else worth gathering. But when by the number of their people they were forced to look abroad, to Trade, to Fish, to labour in Mechanics; they soon found the sweetness as well as the toil of their diligence: their successes and riches still added new heat to their minds; and thus they have continued improving, till they have not only disgraced but terrified their Neighbours, by their Industry. Nor will it suffice to tell us, that they owe this activity to the form of their Government. That supposition may presently be confuted by the Example of France, the most absolute Monarchy of Christendom. There it is apparent by the prodigious toils of their people, both upon the Earth, and in their Shops, that diligence may thrive in a Kingdom, as well as a Commonwealth.  
And if ever the English will attain to the Mastery of Commerce, not only in discourse, but reality: they must begin it by their labours, as well as by their swords: they must do it by awakening their minds, by rousing themselves from this Lethargy, by action, by trials, by working: Unless this be done, they will in vain be Victorious: At the end of their Wars they will cool again, and lose all the fruits of their Valour. The Arts of peace, and their Improvements, must proceed in equal steps with the success of their Arms: The works of our Citizens, our Ploughmen, our Gardeners, our Woodmen, our Fishers, our diggers in Mines, must be equally advanced with the Triumphs of our Fleets: or else their blood will be shed in vain: they will soon return to the same poverty, and want of Trade, which they strove to avoid. For as Tully professes, neminem video eloquentem factum esse victoriâ: So I will affirm, that we shall never be made Industrious by Victory alone.  
The Second thing to be corrected in the English humour, is an inclination to every Novelty, and vanity of foreign Countries, and a contempt of the good things of our own. This fondness is the usual fault of young Travellers, but it has also ill effects on men of full Age. For this they are wont to allege the excuse of good Breeding. But if we could not study, or understand our own Country without the imputation of ill manners, good Breeding were the most pernicious thing in the World. For there was never yet any Nation great, which only admired the Customs of other people, and wholly made them the Pattern of their imitation. This wand'ring, and affected humour Experiments will lessen, above all other studies. They will employ our thoughts, about our Native conveniences: they will make us intend our minds, on what is contained within our own Seas: and by considering, and handling them more, will also make them more worthy of our consideration.  
The Third imperfection is on the other extreme, and that is a narrowness of mind, and a pusillanimous confining our thoughts to ourselves, without regarding any thing that is foreign, or believing that any of their Arts, or Customs may be preferred before our own. This indeed is a perverseness, of which the English are not wholly to be acquitted: it being proper to Islands, and to such Countries that are divided from the rest of the World. This will be cured by the effectual Demonstrations that the Society will give, of the benefit of a universal Correspondence, and Communication. And this according to their Method, will be done without falling into the other vice of affecting foreign habits, and manners, and gestures. In these the English need not be beholding to others: but in their Fruits, in their Manufactures, in their Engines, in their works in Gold, and Silver, and Brass, and Iron, we may follow their practice, and emulate their Curiosities, without affectation.  
There is one instance which will show how our respect to outlandish things is to be regulated. To depend on the French for every little fashion of clothes, and to equal their Nobility in their way of life, is neither for our honour, nor profit. For the difference between their Gentry and ours, and their Commonalty and ours is so great; that the same manners will not be decent in us, which become them well enough. But to learn from them their skill in Horsemanship, and Arms, their Building, their Cultivation of Fruits, the Parsimony, and Industry of their Tradesmen, is commendable: for in these things we are defective, and they excel. It is therefore the admiration of foreign extravagances, and not the imitation of their excellencies that is to be condemned. If we will rather obstinately be content with our own store, than borrow what is good from abroad: we flatter ourselves with the same foolish imaginations, that all Countries had while they were barbarous. To them their Acorns, and their Cottages were at first the utmost ends of their ambition. They knew no more, nor aspired to any farther addition: But as soon as a new light sprung forth amongst them, they despised themselves and their former condition; and then they first began to understand their wants, when they perceived how they might be supplied. As long as we find, that all parts of our Country, are not Ingenious, Inventive, and Industrious alike: we cannot praesume, that we have already got beyond all possibility of amendment by others patterns. As long as we behold any City, or Province, or Family, or Street of our Neighbours, exceed the worst of ours, I will not say the best in easiness of life, or pleasantness, and smoothness of manners: we have no reason to arrogat too much to ourselves; but we rather should conceive it to be a less disgrace to tread in their footsteps, than to want their perfections. As long as there remains any room for our most civil People to grow more Civil, the Introduction of Foreign Inventions is not only pardonable, but necessary: For such is the nature of Civility, that as it increases, it still requires more Arts, though it contents itself with less Forms of living.  
The Fourth mischief by which the greatness of the English is suppressed, is a want of union of Interests, and Affections. This is originally caused by a Natural reservedness, to which our Temper is inclined: but it has been heightened by our Civil differences, and Religious distractions. For the sweetening of such dissensions, it is not best at first to meet, and convers about affairs of state, or spiritual controversies. For those did first occasion our animosities, and the more they are rubbed, the rawer they will prove. But the most effectual remedy to be used is, first to assemble about some calm, and indifferent things, especially Experiments. In them there can be no cause of mutual Exasperations: In them they may agree, or descent without faction, or fierceness: and so from enduring each others company, they may rise to a bearing of each others opnions; from thence to an exchange of good Offices; from thence to real Friendship: Till at last by such a Gentle, and easy Method, our several Interests and Sects may come to suffer one another, with the same peaceableness as men of different Trades live one by another in the same Street.  
Nor is it the least commendation the Royal Society deserves, that designing a union of men's Hands and Reasons, it has proceeded so far in uniting their Affections: For there we behold an unusual sight to the English Nation, that men of disagreeing parties, and ways of life, have forgotten to hate, and have met in the unanimous advancement of the same Works. There the Soldier, the Tradesman, the Merchant, the Scholar, the Gentleman, the Courtier, the Divine, the Presbyterian, the Papist, the Independent, and those of Orthodox judgement, have laid aside their names of distinction, and calmly conspired in a mutual agreement of labours and desires: A Blessing which seems even to have exceeded that Evangelical Promise, That the Lion and the Lamb shall lie down together: For here they do not only endure each others presence without violence or fear; but they work and think in company, and confer their help to each other Inventions.  
The last part of the General Interest of our Nation, 
§ XXXIX. Experimental Knowledge will not hinder Obedience.  in which I will survey the influence of Experiments, is Obedience to the Civil Government: And we ought to be very watchful that they prove not offensive to the Supreme Power: For seeing the King has honoured them with His Royal Patronage, it is but just that the Praerogatives of His Crown should be no losers by their increase. It is indeed a common accusation, which is wont to be made against all manner of Knowledge, by those who have it not, That it renders men mutinous, arrogant, and incapable of Superiors: But if this be admitted, we shall aspers human Nature and Government with the greatest calumny. This were to affirm, That men can not exercise their Reason without being factious and unruly; and that Civil Government will be insupportable to all but ignorant men and fools: which is so far from being true, that it were easy to prove that those Nations which are void of all Arts and Knowledge, cannot be properly said to pay a right Obedience to their Sovereigns; but that the subjection under which they live, rather deserves to be styled the stupidity and slavery of Beasts, than a just and a manly submission.  
But to limit this Question to the particular kind of Knowledge which is now under debate, it is certain that the skill of Nature ought so little to be suspected for making men pervers and ungovernable, that it is the best preservative against disobedience. One of the principal Causes of this is a misguided Conscience, and opposing the pretended Dictates of God against the Commands of the Sovereign. This I have already shown, that these labours will moderate and reform, by abolishing or restraining the fury of Enthusiasm. Another is idle poverty, which drives men into fulleness, melancholy, discontent, and at last into resistance of lawful Authority. To this Experiments will afford a certain cure; they will take away all pretence of idleness, by a constant course of pleasant endeavours; they will employ men about profitable Works, as well as delightful; by the pleasure of their Discoveries they will wear off the roughness, and sweeten the humorous peevishness of mind, whereby many are soured into Rebellion.  
But the most fruitful Parent of Sedition is Pride, and a lofty conceit of men's own wisdom; whereby they presently imagine themselves sufficient to direct and censure all the actions of their Governors. And here that is true in Civil affairs, which I have already quoted out of my Lord Bacon concerning Divine: A little Knowledge is subject to make men headstrong, insolent, and untractable; but a great deal has a quite contrary effect, inclining them to be submissive to their Betters, and obedient to the Sovereign Power.  
The Science that is acquired by Disputation, teaches men to cavil well, and to find fault with accurate subtlety; it gives them a fearless confidence of their own judgements; it leads them from contending in sport, to oppositions in earnest; it makes them believe that every thing is to be handled for, and against, in the State, as well as in the Schools. But the unfeigned and laborious Philosophy gives no countenance to the vain dotages of private Politicians: that bends its Disciples to regard the benefit of mankind, and not the disquiet: that by the moderation it prescribes to our thoughts about Natural Things, will also take away all sharpness and violence about Civil: The Work of that is so vast, that it cannot be performed without the assistance of the Prince: It will not therefore undermine his Authority whose aid it implores: that prescribes a better way to bestow our time, than in contending about little differences, in which both the Conquerors and the Conquered have always reason to repent of their success: That shows us the difficulty of ordering the very motions of senseless and irrational things; and therefore how much harder it is to rule the restless minds of men: That teaches men humility, and acquaints them with their own errors; and so removes all overweening haughtiness of mind, and swelling imaginations, that they are better able to manage Kingdoms than those who possess them. This without question is the chief root of all the uneasiness of Subjects to their Princes. The World would be better governed, if so many did not praesume that they are fit to sustain the cares of Government. Transgression of the Law is Idolatry: The reason of men's contemning all jurisdiction and Power, proceeds from their Idolising their own Wit: They make their own Prudence omnipotent; they suppose themselves infallible; they set up their own Opinions, and worship them. But this vain Idolatry will inevitably fall before Experimental Knowledge; which as it is an enemy to all manner of falls superstitions, so especially to that of men's adoring themselves, and their own Fancies.  

Sect XL. The Conclusion, being a general Recommendation of this Design.  I have now at last brought my Reader, by a tedious compass, to the end of our Journey: And here I desire him to look back, and to make a reflection on the matters of which I have treated. In the first part of my Discourse I have alleged the Causes by which these Studies were suppressed in all former Ages; which have been Interest of Sects, the violence of Disputations, the plausible Arts of Speech, the Religious Controversies, the Dogmatical Opinions, the poverty of the Undertakers, and the want of a continual race of Experimenters. In the Second I have showed by what steps the Royal Society arose, what it has proposed to attempt, what course it has taken to make its Observations universal and perpetual; what assistance has been afforded it to that purpose, and about what particulars it has been conversant. In the Third I have tried to free it from the false scandals of Ignorance, and the praejudices of several ways of life, and to prove that its effects will more immediately refer to our own Country.  
My Reader now beholds an Assembly settled of many eminent men of all Qualities: who have engaged to bestow their labours, on a design so public, and so free from all suspicion of mean, or private Interest. What foundation they have within themselves, for defraying the expense of their Trials, and Intelligence, may be guessed by their Number, which at this present, amounts very near to Two Hundred; as appears by this following Catalogue, which I have ranged Alphabetically.  

The King's Majesty Founder, and Patron.  
His Royal Highness the Duke of York.  
His Highness' Prince Rupert.  
His Highness Ferdinand Albert, Duke of Brunswick, and Lunenbourgh.   
The Duke of Albermarle, the Earl of Alesbury, the Earl of Argill, the Lord Ashley, the Lord Annesley, Mr. Ashmole, Sr. Robert Atkins, Mr. Austin, Mons. Auzout, Mr. Awbrey.  
The Duke of Buckingham, the Lord George Berkeley, the Lord Brereton, Mr. Bagnal, Mr. Bains, Mr. William Balle, Mr. Isaac Barrow, Dr. George Bate, Dr. Bathurst, Dr. Beal, Mons. Beaufort de Fresars', Sr. john Birkinhead, Mr. Blunt, Mr. Boyl, Mr. Brook, Dr. Bruce, Mons. Bullialdus, Mr. Burnet, Sr. Edward Byshe.  
The Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Clarendon Lord Chancellor of England, the Earl of Carlisle, the Earl of Craford, and Lindsay, the Lord Cavendish, the Lord Clifford, Mr. Carkess, Mr. Carteret, Dr. Charleton, Sr. Winstone Churchill, Sr. john Clayton, Sr. Clifford Clifton, Mr. George Cock, Sr. Richard Corbet, Dr. Cotton, Dr. Cox, Mr. Thomas Cox, Mr. Daniel Cox, Mr. Creed, Mr. Crispe, Sr. john Cutler.  
The Marquis of Dorchester, the Earl of Devonshire, the Earl of Dorset, Mons. Vital de Damas', Sr. George Ent, Mr. Ellise, Mr. john Evelyn, Sr. Francis Fane, Mons. le Febure, Sr. john Finch, Mr. Henry Ford, Sr. Bernhard Gascoigne, Mr. joseph Glanvile, Dr. Glisson, Mr William Godolphin, Mr. Grant.  
The Lord Hatton, Mr. Haak, Mr. William Hammond, Mr. William Harrington, Sr. Edward Harley, Sr. Robert Harley, Mr. Harley, Dr. Henshaw, Mons. Hevelius, Mr. Abraham Hill, Mr. Hoar, Dr. Holder, Mr. Hook, Mr. Charles Howard, Mons. Huygens.  
Mr. Richard jones, the Earl of Kincardin, Sr. Andrew King, Mr. Edmund King, the Earl of Lindsey, the Lord Bishop of London, Mr. Lake, Sr. Ellis Leighton, Mr. james Long, Sr. john Lowther, Mr. Lowther, Mons. Hugues de Lyonne.  
The Earl of Manchester, Mons. Nicolas Mercator, Dr. More, Dr. jasper Needham, Dr. Needham, Mr. Thomas Neile, Mr. William Neile, Mr. Nelthorp, Mr. Newburgh, Sr. Thomas Nott, the Earl of Peterburgh, Mr. Packer, Mr. Samuel Parker, Sr. Robert Paston, Dr. john Pearson, Dr. Pell, Sr. William Persall, Sr. Peter Pett, Mr. Peter Pett, Mons. Petit, Sr. William Portman, Mr. Francis Potter, Mr. Povey, Dr. Power, Sr. Richard paul, Mr. Pepys.  
The Lord Robert's Lord Privy Seal, the Lord Bishop of Rochester, Mr. Rolt, Mr. Rycaut, the Earl of Sandwich, the Lord Viscount Stafford, the Lord Stermont, Mr. Schroter, Sr. james Shaen, Mr. Skippon, Sr. Nicholas Slaney, Mr. Henry Slingsby, Mr. Smethwick. Mr. Edward Smith, Dr. George Smith, Mons. Sorbiere, Sr. Robert Southwell, Mr. Alexander Stanhop, Mr. Thomas Stanley.  
The Earl of Tweedale, Sr. Gilbert Talbot, Sr. john Talbot, Dr. turn, Mr. Thomas Thine, Dr. Thruston, Sr. Samuel Tuke, Sr. Theodore de Vaux, Mr. Vermuyden, Mons. Isaac Vossius.  
The Lord Bishop of Winchester, Mr. Waller, Dr. Wallis, Mr. Waterhouse, Dr. Whistler, Mr. joseph Williamson, Dr. Willis, Mr. Francis Willughby, Mr. Wind, Mr. Winthorp, Mr. Woodford, Mr. Matthew Wren, Dr. Thomas Wren, Sr. Cyril Wyche, Sr. Peter Wyche, Mr. Wylde, the Lord Archbishop of York, the Lord Yester.  
The present Council are these that follow,  
William Lord Viscount Brouncker Precedent: which Office has been annually renewed to him by Election, out of the true judgement, which the Society has made of his great Abilities in all Natural, and especially Mathematical Knowledge.  
Mr. William Aerskin, Dr. Peter Ball, Dr. Timothy Clerk, Mr. Daniel Colwall, Dr. Croon, the Lord Bishop of Exeter, Dr. jonathan Goddard, Mr. Henry Howard of Norfolk, Mr. Henshaw, Mr. Hoskins, Sr. Robert Moray, Sr. Anthony Morgan, Dr. Merret, the Earl of Northampton, Sr. Paul Neile, Mr. Oldenburgh, Sr. William Petty, Doctor Pope, Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Christopher Wren.  
In this number perhaps there may some be found, whose employments will not give them leave to promote these Studies, with their own Hands. But it being their part to Contribute jointly towards the Charge, and to pass judgement on what others shall try: they will appear to be well-nigh as useful, as those that Labour, to the main end of this Enterprise.  
Whatever Revenue they shall raise, by this or any other means, they intent thereby to make an Establishment for their Curators. To this Office they have already admitted some of their Fellows, whom they will employ according to their Studies and sufficience: Some shall be sent to travail abroad to search for Discoveries: some shall constantly remain in London, and represent their Observations to the weekly Assemblies.  
The places of their Residence they have appointed to be two: One a College, which they design to build in London, to serve for their Meetings, their Laboratories, their Repository, their Library, and the Lodgings for their Curators: The other the College at Chelsey, which the King has bestowed on them; where they have a large Enclosure, to serve for all Experiments of Gardning and Agriculture: and by the neighbourhood of the River they have excellent opportunity of making all Trials that belong to the Water.  
And now as I have spoken of a Society that prefers Works before Words, so it becomes their History to endeavour after real fruits and effects. I will therefore conclude by recommending again this Undertaking to the English Nation; to the bravest People, the most generous Design; to the most zealous lovers of Liberty▪ the surest way to randsome the minds of all mankind from Slavery.  
The Privileges that our King's Dominions enjoy for this end, appear to be equalled by no other Country. The men that we have now living to employ, are excellently furnished with all manner of abilities: Their Method is already settled, and placed out of the reach of calumny or contradiction.  
The work itself indeed is vast, and almost incomprehensible, when it is considered in gross: But they have made it feasible and easy, by distributing the burden. They have shown to the World this great secret, That Philosophy ought not only to be attended by a select company of refined Spirits. As they desire that its productions should be vulgar, so they also declare, that they may be promoted by vulgar hands. They exact no extraordinary preparations of Learning: to have sound Senses and Truth, is with them a sufficient Qualification. Here is enough business for Minds of all sizes: And so boundless is the variety of these Studies, that here is also enough delight to recompense the Labours of them all, from the most ordinary capacities, to the highest and most searching Wits.  
Here first they may take a plain view of all particular things, their kinds, their order, their figure, their place, their motion: And even this naked prospect cannot but fill their thoughts with much satisfaction, seeing it was the first pleasure which the Scripture relates God himself to have taken at the Creation; and that not only once, but at the end of every days work, when he saw all that he had made, and approved it to be good. From this they may proceed to survey the difference of their Composition, their Effects, the Instruments of their Being's and Lives, the Subtlety and Structure, the decay and supply of their parts; wherein how large is the space of their delight, seeing the very shape of a Mite and the sting of a Bee appears so prodigious. From hence they may go to apply things together, to make them work one upon another, to imitate their productions, to help their defects, and with the Noblest duty to assist Nature, our common mother, in her Operations: From hence to all the works of men's hands, the divers Artifices of several Ages, the various Materials, the Improvement of Trades, the advancement of Manufactures: In which last alone there is to be found so great content, that many Mighty Princes of the former and present Times, amidst the pleasures of Government, which are no doubt the highest in the World, have striven to excel in some Manual Art.  
In this spacious field their Observations may wander, And in this whatever they shall meet with, they may call their own. Here they will not only enjoy the cold contentment of Learning, but that which is far greater, of Discovering. Many things that have been hitherto hidden, will arise and expose themselves to their view: Many Methods of advancing what we have already, will come in their way: Nay, even many of the lost Rarities of Antiquity will be hereby restored. Of these a great quantity has been overwhelmed in the ruins of Time: And they will sooner be retrieved by our labouring anew, in the material Subjects whence they first arose, than by our plodding everlastingly on the ancient Writings. Their Inventions may be soon regained the same way by which their Medals and Coins have been found; of which the greatest part has been recovered, not by those who sought for them on purpose in old rubbish, but by digging up Foundations to raise new Buildings, and by ploughing the Ground to sow new Seed.  
This is the Work we propose to be incoraged, which at once regards the discovering of new Secrets, and the purifying and repairing all the profitable things of Antiquity. The Supply that is needful to finish it, will neither impoverish Families, nor exhaust a mighty income. So near is Mankind to its happiness, that so great an Attempt may be plentifully endowed by a small part of what is spent on any one single Lust, or extravagant Vanity of the Time. So moderate is the Society in their desires of assistance, that as much Charity as is bestowed in England in one year, for the relief of particular Poverty and Diseases, were enough for ever to sustain a Design, which endeavours to give aid against all the infirmities and wants of human Nature.  
If now this Enterprise shall chance to fail for want of Patronage and Revenue, the World will not only be frustrated of their present expectations, but will have just ground to despair of any future Labours, towards the increase of the Practical Philosophy. If our Posterity shall find, that an Institution so vigorously begun, and so strengthened by many signal advantages, could not support itself: They will have reason in all times to conclude, That the long barrenness of Knowledge was not caused by the corrupt method which was taken, but by the nature of the Thing itself. This will be the last great endeavour that will be made in this way, if this shall prove ineffectual: and so we shall not only be guilty of our own Ignorance, but of the Errors of all those that come after us.  
But if (as I rather believe and praesage) our Nation shall lay hold of this opportunity, to deserve the applause of Mankind, the force of this Example will be irresistibly praevalent in all Countries round about us; the State of Christendom will soon obtain a new face; while this Halcyon Knowledge is breeding, all Tempests will cease: the oppositions and contentious wranglings of Science falsely so called, will soon vanish away: the peaceable calmness of men's judgements, will have admirable influence on their Manners; the sincerity of their Understandings will appear in their Actions; their Opinions will be less violent and dogmatical, but more certain; they will only be Gods one to another, and not Wolves; the value of their Arts will be esteemed by the great things they perform, and not by those they speak: While the old Philosophy could only at the best pretend to the Portion of Nepthali, to give goodly words, the New will have the Blessings of joseph the younger and the belov'd Son; It shall be like a fruitful Bough, even a fruitful Bough by a Well, whose Branches run over the wall: It shall have the blessings of Heaven above, the blessings of the deep that lies under, the blessings of the breasts and of the womb: While the Old could only bestow on us some barren Terms and Notions, the New shall impart to us the uses of all the Creatures, and shall enrich us with all the Benefits of Fruitfulness and Plenty.  
FINIS.   

ERRATA.  
PAge 2. line 17. for buildings read Buildings. p. 4. l. 32. for Now, New. p. 12. l. 26. for strongster, stronger. p. 27. l. 29. for which, while. p. 42. l. 32. for Acamedy, Academy. p. 75. l. 13. for Invention, Intention. p. 83. l. 8. after there put in may. p. 126. l. 27. for Ducat, Ducal. p. 154. l. 13. for that, shall. p. 156. for axact, exact. p. 242. l. 19 for valies, values. p. 313. l. 32. for more, move. p. 314. l. 20. for Diamets, Diameters. p. 327. l. 23. for and, a. p. 388. l. 16. for the East, these.