A few years later Agrippa of Nettesheim made a somewhat similar effort

to breast this theological tide in northern Europe. He had won a great

reputation in various fields, but especially in natural science,

as science was then understood. Seeing the folly and cruelty of the

prevailing theory, he attempted to modify it, and in 1518, as Syndic of

Metz, endeavoured to save a poor woman on trial for witchcraft. But the

chief inquisitor, backed by the sacred Scriptures, the papal bulls, the

theological faculties, and the monks, was too strong for him; he was not

only forced to give up his office, but for this and other offences of a

similar sort was imprisoned, driven from city to city and from country

to country, and after his death his clerical enemies, especially the

Dominicans, pursued his memory with calumny, and placed over his grave

probably the most malignant epitaph ever written.

As to argument, these efforts were met especially by Jean Bodin in his

famous book, the Demonomanie des Sorciers, published in 1580. It was a

work of great power by a man justly considered the leading thinker in

France, and perhaps in Europe. All the learning of the time, divine

and human, he marshalled in support of the prevailing theory. With

inexorable logic he showed that both the veracity of sacred Scripture

and the infallibility of a long line of popes and councils of the Church

were pledged to it, and in an eloquent passage this great publicist

warned rulers and judges against any mercy to witches--citing the

example of King Ahab condemned by the prophet to die for having pardoned

a man worthy of death, and pointing significantly to King Charles IX of

France, who, having pardoned a sorcerer, died soon afterward.(253)

(253) To the argument cited above, Bodin adds: "Id certissimam daemonis

praesentiam significat; nam ubicunque daemones cum hominibus nefaria

societatis fide copulantur, foedissimum semper relinquunt sulphuris

odorem, quod sortilegi saepissime experiuntur et confitentur." See

Bodin's Universae Naturae Theatrum, Frankfort, 1597, pp. 208-211. The

first edition of the book by Pomponatius, which was the earliest of his

writings, is excessively rare, but it was reprinted at Venice just a

half-century later. It is in his De incantationibus, however, that he

speaks especially of devils. As to Pomponatius, see, besides these,

Creighton's History of the Papacy during the Reformation, and an

excellent essay in Franck's Moralistes et Philosophes. For Agrippa,

see his biography by Prof. Henry Morley, London, 1856. For Bodin, see

a statement of his general line of argument in Lecky, Rationalism in

Europe, vol. i, chap. 1.

In the last years of the sixteenth century the persecutions for

witchcraft and magic were therefore especially cruel; and in the western

districts of Germany the main instrument in them was Binsfeld, Suffragan

Bishop of Treves.

At that time Cornelius Loos was a professor at the university of

that city. He was a devoted churchman, and one of the most brilliant

opponents of Protestantism, but he finally saw through the prevailing

belief regarding occult powers, and in an evil hour for himself embodied

his idea in a book entitled True and False Magic. The book, though

earnest, was temperate, but this helped him and his cause not at all.

The texts of Scripture clearly sanctioning belief in sorcery and magic

stood against him, and these had been confirmed by the infallible

teachings of the Church and the popes from time immemorial; the book was

stopped in the press, the manuscript confiscated, and Loos thrown into a

dungeon.

The inquisitors having wrought their will upon him, in the spring of

1593 he was brought out of prison, forced to recant on his knees

before the assembled dignitaries of the Church, and thenceforward kept

constantly under surveillance and at times in prison. Even this was

considered too light a punishment, and his arch-enemy, the Jesuit

Delrio, declared that, but for his death by the plague, he would have

been finally sent to the stake.(254)

(254) What remains of the manuscript of Loos, which until recently was

supposed to be lost, was found, hidden away on the shelves of the old

Jesuit library at Treves, by Mr. George Lincoln Burr, now a professor

at Cornell University; and Prof. Burr's copy of the manuscript is now in

the library of that institution. For a full account of the discovery

and its significance, see the New York Nation for November 11, 1886. The

facts regarding the after-life of Loos were discovered by Prof. Burr in

manuscript records at Brussels.

That this threat was not unmeaning had been seen a few years earlier in

a case even more noted, and in the same city. During the last decades of

the sixteenth century, Dietrich Flade, an eminent jurist, was rector of

the University of Treves, and chief judge of the Electoral Court, and

in the latter capacity he had to pass judgment upon persons tried on

the capital charge of magic and witchcraft. For a time he yielded to the

long line of authorities, ecclesiastical and judicial, supporting the

reality of this crime; but he at last seems to have realized that it

was unreal, and that the confessions in his torture chamber, of

compacts with Satan, riding on broomsticks to the witch-sabbath, raising

tempests, producing diseases, and the like, were either the results of

madness or of willingness to confess anything and everything, and even

to die, in order to shorten the fearful tortures to which the accused

were in all cases subjected until a satisfactory confession was

obtained.

On this conviction of the unreality of many at least of the charges

Flade seems to have acted, and he at once received his reward. He was

arrested by the authority of the archbishop and charged with having sold

himself to Satan--the fact of his hesitation in the persecution being

perhaps what suggested his guilt. He was now, in his turn, brought into

the torture chamber over which he had once presided, was racked until

he confessed everything which his torturers suggested, and finally, in

1589, was strangled and burnt.

Of that trial a record exists in the library of Cornell University

in the shape of the original minutes of the case, and among them the

depositions of Flade when under torture, taken down from his own lips

in the torture chamber. In these depositions this revered and venerable

scholar and jurist acknowledged the truth of every absurd charge brought

against him--anything, everything, which would end the fearful torture:

compared with that, death was nothing.(255)

(255) For the case of Flade, see the careful study by Prof. Burr,

The Fate of Dietrich Flade, in the Papers of the American Historical

Association, 1891.

Nor was even a priest secure who ventured to reveal the unreality of

magic. When Friedrich Spee, the Jesuit poet of western Germany, found,

in taking the confessions of those about to be executed for magic, that

without exception, just when about to enter eternity and utterly beyond

hope of pardon, they all retracted their confessions made under torture,

his sympathies as a man rose above his loyalty to his order, and he

published his Cautio Criminalis as a warning, stating with entire

moderation the facts he had observed and the necessity of care. But he

did not dare publish it under his own name, nor did he even dare publish

it in a Catholic town; he gave it to the world anonymously, and,

in order to prevent any tracing of the work to him through the

confessional, he secretly caused it to be published in the Protestant

town of Rinteln.

Nor was this all. Nothing shows so thoroughly the hold that this belief

in magic had obtained as the conduct of Spee's powerful friend and

contemporary, John Philip von Schonborn, later the Elector and Prince

Archbishop of Mayence.

As a youth, Schonborn had loved and admired Spee, and had especially

noted his persistent melancholy and his hair whitened even in his

young manhood. On Schonborn's pressing him for the cause, Spee at last

confessed that his sadness, whitened hair, and premature old age were

due to his recollections of the scores of men and women and children

whom he had been obliged to see tortured and sent to the scaffold

and stake for magic and witchcraft, when he as their father confessor

positively knew them to be innocent. The result was that, when

Schonborn became Elector and Archbishop of Mayence, he stopped the witch

persecutions in that province, and prevented them as long as he lived.

But here was shown the strength of theological and ecclesiastical

traditions and precedents. Even a man so strong by family connections,

and enjoying such great temporal and spiritual power as Schonborn, dared

not openly give his reasons for this change of policy. So far as is

known, he never uttered a word publicly against the reality of magic,

and under his successor in the electorate witch trials were resumed.

The great upholders of the orthodox view retained full possession of the

field. The victorious Bishop Binsfeld, of Treves, wrote a book to prove

that everything confessed by the witches under torture, especially the

raising of storms and the general controlling of the weather, was worthy

of belief; and this book became throughout Europe a standard authority,

both among Catholics and Protestants. Even more inflexible was Remigius,

criminal judge in Lorraine. On the title-page of his manual he boasts

that within fifteen years he had sent nine hundred persons to death for

this imaginary crime.(256)

(256) For Spee and Schonborn, see Soldan and other German authorities.

There are copies of the first editions of the Cautio Criminalis in

the library of Cornell University. Binsfeld's book bore the title of

Tractatus de confessionibus maleficorum et sagarum. First published

at Treves in 1589, it appeared subsequently four times in the original

Latin, as well as in two distinct German translations, and in a French

one. Remigius's manual was entitled Daemonolatreia, and was first

printed at Lyons in 1595.

Protestantism fell into the superstition as fully as Catholicism. In the

same century John Wier, a disciple of Agrippa, tried to frame a pious

theory which, while satisfying orthodoxy, should do something to check

the frightful cruelties around him. In his book De Praestigiis Daemonum,

published in 1563, he proclaimed his belief in witchcraft, but suggested

that the compacts with Satan, journeys through the air on broomsticks,

bearing children to Satan, raising storms and producing diseases--to

which so many women and children confessed under torture--were delusions

suggested and propagated by Satan himself, and that the persons charged

with witchcraft were therefore to be considered "as possessed"--that is,

rather as sinned against than sinning.(257)

(257) For Wier, or Weyer, see, besides his own works, the excellent

biography by Prof. Binz, of Bonn.

But neither Catholics nor Protestants would listen for a moment to any

such suggestion. Wier was bitterly denounced and persecuted. Nor did

Bekker, a Protestant divine in Holland, fare any better in the following

century. For his World Bewitched, in which he ventured not only to

question the devil's power over the weather, but to deny his bodily

existence altogether, he was solemnly tried by the synod of his Church

and expelled from his pulpit, while his views were condemned as heresy,

and overwhelmed with a flood of refutations whose mere catalogue would

fill pages; and these cases were typical of many.

The Reformation had, indeed, at first deepened the superstition; the new

Church being anxious to show itself equally orthodox and zealous with

the old. During the century following the first great movement, the

eminent Lutheran jurist and theologian Benedict Carpzov, whose boast was

that he had read the Bible fifty-three times, especially distinguished

himself by his skill in demonstrating the reality of witchcraft, and by

his cruelty in detecting and punishing it. The torture chambers were

set at work more vigorously than ever, and a long line of theological

jurists followed to maintain the system and to extend it.

To argue against it, or even doubt it, was exceedingly dangerous. Even

as late as the beginning of the eighteenth century, when Christian

Thomasius, the greatest and bravest German between Luther and Lessing,

began the efforts which put an end to it in Protestant Germany, he did

not dare at first, bold as he was, to attack it in his own name,

but presented his views as the university thesis of an irresponsible

student.(258)

(258) For Thomasius, see his various bigraphies by Luden and others;

also the treatises on witchcraft by Soldan and others. Manuscript notes

of his lectures, and copies of his earliest books on witchcraft as well

as on other forms of folly, are to be found in the library of Cornell

University.

The same stubborn resistance to the gradual encroachment of the

scientific spirit upon the orthodox doctrine of witchcraft was seen in

Great Britain. Typical as to the attitude both of Scotch and English

Protestants were the theory and practice of King James I, himself the

author of a book on Demonology, and nothing if not a theologian. As to

theory, his treatise on Demonology supported the worst features of the

superstition; as to practice, he ordered the learned and acute work of

Reginald Scot, The Discoverie of Witchcraft, one of the best treatises

ever written on the subject, to be burned by the hangman, and he applied

his own knowledge to investigating the causes of the tempests which

beset his bride on her voyage from Denmark. Skilful use of unlimited

torture soon brought these causes to light. A Dr. Fian, while his legs

were crushed in the "boots" and wedges were driven under his finger

nails, confessed that several hundred witches had gone to sea in a sieve

from the port of Leith, and had raised storms and tempests to drive back

the princess.

With the coming in of the Puritans the persecution was even more

largely, systematically, and cruelly developed. The great witch-finder,

Matthew Hopkins, having gone through the county of Suffolk and tested

multitudes of poor old women by piercing them with pins and needles,

declared that county to be infested with witches. Thereupon Parliament

issued a commission, and sent two eminent Presbyterian divines to

accompany it, with the result that in that county alone sixty persons

were hanged for witchcraft in a single year. In Scotland matters were

even worse. The auto da fe of Spain was celebrated in Scotland under

another name, and with Presbyterian ministers instead of Roman Catholic

priests as the main attendants. At Leith, in 1664, nine women were

burned together. Condemnations and punishments of women in batches were

not uncommon. Torture was used far more freely than in England, both in

detecting witches and in punishing them. The natural argument developed

in hundreds of pulpits was this: If the Allwise God punishes his

creatures with tortures infinite in cruelty and duration, why should not

his ministers, as far as they can, imitate him?

The strongest minds in both branches of the Protestant Church in Great

Britain devoted themselves to maintaining the superstition. The newer

scientific modes of thought, and especially the new ideas regarding the

heavens, revealed first by Copernicus and Galileo and later by Newton,

Huygens, and Halley, were gradually dissipating the whole domain of the

Prince of the Power of the Air; but from first to last a long line of

eminent divines, Anglican and Calvinistic, strove to resist the new

thought. On the Anglican side, in the seventeenth century, Meric

Casaubon, Doctor of Divinity and a high dignitary of Canterbury,--Henry

More, in many respects the most eminent scholar in the

Church,--Cudworth, by far the most eminent philosopher, and Dr. Joseph

Glanvil, the most cogent of all writers in favour of witchcraft,

supported the orthodox superstition in treatises of great power; and Sir

Matthew Hale, the greatest jurist of the period, condemning two women

to be burned for witchcraft, declared that he based his judgment on the

direct testimony of Holy Scripture. On the Calvinistic side were the

great names of Richard Baxter, who applauded some of the worst cruelties

in England, and of Increase and Cotton Mather, who stimulated the worst

in America; and these marshalled in behalf of this cruel superstition

a long line of eminent divines, the most earnest of all, perhaps, being

John Wesley.

Nor was the Lutheran Church in Sweden and the other Scandinavian

countries behind its sister churches, either in persecuting witchcraft

or in repressing doubts regarding the doctrine which supported it.

But in spite of all these great authorities in every land, in spite of

such summary punishments as those of Flade, Loos, and Bekker, and in

spite of the virtual exclusion from church preferment of all who doubted

the old doctrine, the new scientific view of the heavens was developed

more and more; the physical sciences were more and more cultivated; the

new scientific atmosphere in general more and more prevailed; and at the

end of the seventeenth century this vast growth of superstition began to

wither and droop. Montaigne, Bayle, and Voltaire in France, Thomasius in

Germany, Calef in New England, and Beccaria in Italy, did much also to

create an intellectual and moral atmosphere fatal to it.

And here it should be stated, to the honour of the Church of England,

that several of her divines showed great courage in opposing the

dominant doctrine. Such men as Harsnet, Archbishop of York, and Morton,

Bishop of Lichfield, who threw all their influence against witch-finding

cruelties even early in the seventeenth century, deserve lasting

gratitude. But especially should honour be paid to the younger men in

the Church, who wrote at length against the whole system: such men as

Wagstaffe and Webster and Hutchinson, who in the humbler ranks of the

clergy stood manfully for truth, with the certainty that by so doing

they were making their own promotion impossible.

By the beginning of the eighteenth century the doctrine was evidently

dying out. Where torture had been abolished, or even made milder,

"weather-makers" no longer confessed, and the fundamental proofs in

which the system was rooted were evidently slipping away. Even the great

theologian Fromundus, at the University of Louvain, the oracle of his

age, who had demonstrated the futility of the Copernican theory, had

foreseen this and made the inevitable attempt at compromise, declaring

that devils, though OFTEN, are not ALWAYS or even for the most part

the causes of thunder. The learned Jesuit Caspar Schott, whose Physica

Curiosa was one of the most popular books of the seventeenth century,

also ventured to make the same mild statement. But even such concessions

by such great champions of orthodoxy did not prevent frantic efforts in

various quarters to bring the world back under the old dogma: as late as

1743 there was published in Catholic Germany a manual by Father Vincent

of Berg, in which the superstition was taught to its fullest extent,

with the declaration that it was issued for the use of priests under

the express sanction of the theological professors of the University

of Cologne; and twenty-five years later, in 1768, we find in Protestant

England John Wesley standing firmly for witchcraft, and uttering his

famous declaration, "The giving up of witchcraft is in effect the giving

up of the Bible." The latest notable demonstration in Scotland was made

as late as 1773, when "the divines of the Associated Presbytery" passed

a resolution declaring their belief in witchcraft, and deploring the

general scepticism regarding it.(259)

(259) For Carpzov and his successors, see authorities already given.

The best account of James's share in the extortion of confessions may

be found in the collection of Curious Tracts published at Edinburgh in

1820. See also King James's own Demonologie, and Pitcairn's Criminal

Trials of Scotland, vol. i, part ii, pp. 213-223. For Casaubon, see his

Credulity and Incredulity in Things Natural, pp. 66, 67. For Glanvil,

More, Casaubon, Baxter, Wesley, and others named, see Lecky, as above.

As to Increase Mather, in his sermons, already cited, on The Voice

of God in Stormy Winds, Boston, 1704, he says: "when there are great

tempests, the Angels oftentimes have a Hand therein.. .. Yea, and

sometimes, by Divine Permission, Evil Angels have a Hand in such Storms

and Tempests as are very hurtful to Men on the Earth." Yet "for the most

part, such Storms are sent by the Providence of God as a Sign of His

Displeasure for the Sins of Men," and sometimes "as Prognosticks and

terrible Warnings of Great Judgements not far off." From the height

of his erudition Mather thus rebukes the timid voice of scientific

scepticism: "There are some who would be esteemed the Wits of the World,

that ridicule those as Superstitious and Weak Persons, which look upon

Dreadful Tempests as Prodromous of other Judgements. Nevertheless,

the most Learned and Judicious Writers, not only of the Gentiles, but

amongst Christians, have Embraced such a Persuasion; their Sentiments

therein being Confirmed by the Experience of many Ages." For another

curious turn given to this theory, with reference to sanitary science,

see Deodat Lawson's famous sermon at Salem, in 1692, on Christ's

Fidelity a Shield against Satan's Malignity, p. 21 of the second

edition. For Cotton Mather, see his biography by Barrett Wendell, pp.

91, 92; also the chapter on Diabolism and Hysteria in this work. For

Fromundus, see his Meteorologica (London, 1656), lib. iii, c. 9, and

lib. ii, c. 3. For Schott, see his Physica Curiosa (edition of Wurzburg,

1667), p. 1249. For Father Vincent of Berg, see his Enchiridium

quadripartitum (Cologne, 1743). Besides benedictions and exorcisms for

all emergencies, it contains full directions for the manufacture of

Agnes Dei, and of another sacred panacea called "Heiligthum," not less

effective against evil powers,--gives formulae to be worn for protection

against the devil,--suggests a list of signs by which diabolical

possession may be recognised, and prescribes the question to be asked by

priests in the examination of witches. For Wesley, see his Journal for

1768. The whole citation is given in Lecky.

IV. FRANKLIN'S LIGHTNING-ROD.

But in the midst of these efforts by Catholics like Father Vincent

and by Protestants like John Wesley to save the old sacred theory, it

received its death-blow. In 1752 Franklin made his experiments with the

kite on the banks of the Schuylkill; and, at the moment when he drew

the electric spark from the cloud, the whole tremendous fabric of

theological meteorology reared by the fathers, the popes, the

medieval doctors, and the long line of great theologians, Catholic and

Protestant, collapsed; the "Prince of the Power of the Air" tumbled from

his seat; the great doctrine which had so long afflicted the earth was

prostrated forever.

The experiment of Franklin was repeated in various parts of Europe, but,

at first, the Church seemed careful to take no notice of it. The old

church formulas against the Prince of the Power of the Air were still

used, but the theological theory, especially in the Protestant Church,

began to grow milder. Four years after Franklin's discovery Pastor

Karl Koken, member of the Consistory and official preacher to the City

Council of Hildesheim, was moved by a great hailstorm to preach and

publish a sermon on The Revelation of God in Weather. Of "the Prince of

the Power of the Air" he says nothing; the theory of diabolical agency

he throws overboard altogether; his whole attempt is to save the older

and more harmless theory, that the storm is the voice of God. He insists

that, since Christ told Nicodemus that men "know not whence the wind

cometh," it can not be of mere natural origin, but is sent directly

by God himself, as David intimates in the Psalm, "out of His secret

places." As to the hailstorm, he lays great stress upon the plague of

hail sent by the Almighty upon Egypt, and clinches all by insisting

that God showed at Mount Sinai his purpose to startle the body before

impressing the conscience.

While the theory of diabolical agency in storms was thus drooping and

dying, very shrewd efforts were made at compromise. The first of these

attempts we have already noted, in the effort to explain the efficacy of

bells in storms by their simple use in stirring the faithful to prayer,

and in the concession made by sundry theologians, and even by the great

Lord Bacon himself, that church bells might, under the sanction of

Providence, disperse storms by agitating the air. This gained ground

somewhat, though it was resisted by one eminent Church authority, who

answered shrewdly that, in that case, cannon would be even more pious

instruments. Still another argument used in trying to save this part of

the theological theory was that the bells were consecrated instruments

for this purpose, "like the horns at whose blowing the walls of Jericho

fell."(260)

(260) For Koken, see his Offenbarung Gottes in Wetter, Hildesheim,

c1756; and for the answer to Bacon, see Gretser's De Benedictionibus,

lib. ii, cap. 46.

But these compromises were of little avail. In 1766 Father Sterzinger

attacked the very groundwork of the whole diabolic theory. He was, of

course, bitterly assailed, insulted, and hated; but the Church thought

it best not to condemn him. More and more the "Prince of the Power

of the Air" retreated before the lightning-rod of Franklin. The older

Church, while clinging to the old theory, was finally obliged to confess

the supremacy of Franklin's theory practically; for his lightning-rod

did what exorcisms, and holy water, and processions, and the Agnus

Dei, and the ringing of church bells, and the rack, and the burning of

witches, had failed to do. This was clearly seen, even by the poorest

peasants in eastern France, when they observed that the grand spire of

Strasburg Cathedral, which neither the sacredness of the place, nor the

bells within it, nor the holy water and relics beneath it, could protect

from frequent injuries by lightning, was once and for all protected by

Franklin's rod. Then came into the minds of multitudes the answer to the

question which had so long exercised the leading theologians of Europe

and America, namely, "Why should the Almighty strike his own consecrated

temples, or suffer Satan to strike them?"

Yet even this practical solution of the question was not received

without opposition.

In America the earthquake of 1755 was widely ascribed, especially in

Massachusetts, to Franklin's rod. The Rev. Thomas Prince, pastor of the

Old South Church, published a sermon on the subject, and in the appendix

expressed the opinion that the frequency of earthquakes may be due to

the erection of "iron points invented by the sagacious Mr. Franklin." He

goes on to argue that "in Boston are more erected than anywhere else in

New England, and Boston seems to be more dreadfully shaken. Oh! there is

no getting out of the mighty hand of God."

Three years later, John Adams, speaking of a conversation with

Arbuthnot, a Boston physician, says: "He began to prate upon the

presumption of philosophy in erecting iron rods to draw the lightning

from the clouds. He railed and foamed against the points and the

presumption that erected them. He talked of presuming upon God, as

Peter attempted to walk upon the water, and of attempting to control the

artillery of heaven."

As late as 1770 religious scruples regarding lightning-rods were still

felt, the theory being that, as thunder and lightning were tokens of

the Divine displeasure, it was impiety to prevent their doing their full

work. Fortunately, Prof. John Winthrop, of Harvard, showed himself wise

in this, as in so many other things: in a lecture on earthquakes he

opposed the dominant theology; and as to arguments against Franklin's

rods, he declared, "It is as much our duty to secure ourselves against

the effects of lightning as against those of rain, snow, and wind by the

means God has put into our hands."

Still, for some years theological sentiment had to be regarded

carefully. In Philadelphia, a popular lecturer on science for some time

after Franklin's discovery thought it best in advertising his lectures

to explain that "the erection of lightning-rods is not chargeable

with presumption nor inconsistent with any of the principles either of

natural or revealed religion."(261)

(261) Regarding opposition to Franklin's rods in America, see Prince's

sermon, especially p. 23; also Quincy, History of Harvard University,

vol. ii, p. 219; also Works of John Adams, vol. ii, pp. 51, 52; also

Parton's Life of Franklin, vol. i, p. 294.

In England, the first lightning conductor upon a church was not put

up until 1762, ten years after Franklin's discovery. The spire of St.

Bride's Church in London was greatly injured by lightning in 1750, and

in 1764 a storm so wrecked its masonry that it had to be mainly

rebuilt; yet for years after this the authorities refused to attach a

lightning-rod. The Protestant Cathedral of St. Paul's, in London, was

not protected until sixteen years after Franklin's discovery, and the

tower of the great Protestant church at Hamburg not until a year

later still. As late as 1783 it was declared in Germany, on excellent

authority, that within a space of thirty-three years nearly four hundred

towers had been damaged and one hundred and twenty bell-ringers killed.

In Roman Catholic countries a similar prejudice was shown, and its

cost at times was heavy. In Austria, the church of Rosenberg, in the

mountains of Carinthia, was struck so frequently and with such loss of

life that the peasants feared at last to attend service. Three times

was the spire rebuilt, and it was not until 1778--twenty-six years

after Franklin's discovery--that the authorities permitted a rod to be

attached. Then all trouble ceased.

A typical case in Italy was that of the tower of St. Mark's, at Venice.

In spite of the angel at its summit and the bells consecrated to ward

off the powers of the air, and the relics in the cathedral hard by, and

the processions in the adjacent square, the tower was frequently injured

and even ruined by lightning. In 1388 it was badly shattered; in 1417,

and again in 1489, the wooden spire surmounting it was utterly consumed;

it was again greatly injured in 1548, 1565, 1653, and in 1745 was struck

so powerfully that the whole tower, which had been rebuilt of stone and

brick, was shattered in thirty-seven places. Although the invention of

Franklin had been introduced into Italy by the physicist Beccaria, the

tower of St. Mark's still went unprotected, and was again badly struck

in 1761 and 1762; and not until 1766--fourteen years after Franklin's

discovery--was a lightning-rod placed upon it; and it has never been

struck since.(262)

(262) For reluctance in England to protect churches with Franklin's

rods, see Priestley, History of Electricity, London, 1775, vol. i, pp.

407, 465 et seq.

So, too, though the beautiful tower of the Cathedral of Siena, protected

by all possible theological means, had been struck again and again, much

opposition was shown to placing upon it what was generally known as

"the heretical rod," but the tower was at last protected by Franklin's

invention, and in 1777, though a very heavy bolt passed down the rod,

the church received not the slightest injury. This served to reconcile

theology and science, so far as that city was concerned; but the case

which did most to convert the Italian theologians to the scientific view

was that of the church of San Nazaro, at Brescia. The Republic of Venice

had stored in the vaults of this church over two hundred thousand pounds

of powder. In 1767, seventeen years after Franklin's discovery, no rod

having been placed upon it, it was struck by lightning, the powder in

the vaults was exploded, one sixth of the entire city destroyed, and

over three thousand lives were lost.(263)

(263) See article on Lightning in the Edinburgh Review for October,

1844.

Such examples as these, in all parts of Europe, had their effect. The

formulas for conjuring off storms, for consecrating bells to ward off

lightning and tempests, and for putting to flight the powers of the air,

were still allowed to stand in the liturgies; but the lightning-rod,

the barometer, and the thermometer, carried the day. A vigorous line of

investigators succeeding Franklin completed his victory, The traveller

in remote districts of Europe still hears the church bells ringing

during tempests; the Polish or Italian peasant is still persuaded to

pay fees for sounding bells to keep off hailstorms; but the universal

tendency favours more and more the use of the lightning-rod, and of the

insurance offices where men can be relieved of the ruinous results of

meteorological disturbances in accordance with the scientific laws

of average, based upon the ascertained recurrence of storms. So, too,

though many a poor seaman trusts to his charm that has been bathed in

holy water, or that has touched some relic, the tendency among mariners

is to value more and more those warnings which are sent far and wide

each day over the earth and under the sea by the electric wires in

accordance with laws ascertained by observation.

Yet, even in our own time, attempts to revive the old theological

doctrine of meteorology have not been wanting. Two of these, one in a

Roman Catholic and another in a Protestant country, will serve as types

of many, to show how completely scientific truth has saturated and

permeated minds supposed to be entirely surrendered to the theological

view.

The Island of St. Honorat, just off the southern coast of France,

is deservedly one of the places most venerated in Christendom. The

monastery of Lerins, founded there in the fourth century, became a

mother of similar institutions in western Europe, and a centre of

religious teaching for the Christian world. In its atmosphere, legends

and myths grew in beauty and luxuriance. Here, as the chroniclers tell

us, at the touch of St. Honorat, burst forth a stream of living water,

which a recent historian of the monastery declares a greater miracle

than that of Moses; here he destroyed, with a touch of his staff, the

reptiles which infested the island, and then forced the sea to wash away

their foul remains. Here, to please his sister, Sainte-Marguerite, a

cherry tree burst into full bloom every month; here he threw his cloak

upon the waters and it became a raft, which bore him safely to visit the

neighbouring island; here St. Patrick received from St. Just the staff

with which he imitated St. Honorat by driving all reptiles from Ireland.

Pillaged by Saracens and pirates, the island was made all the more

precious by the blood of Christian martyrs. Popes and kings made

pilgrimages to it; saints, confessors, and bishops went forth from it

into all Europe; in one of its cells St. Vincent of Lerins wrote that

famous definition of pure religion which, for nearly fifteen hundred

years, has virtually superseded that of St. James. Naturally the

monastery became most illustrious, and its seat "the Mediterranean Isle

of Saints."

But toward the close of the last century, its inmates having become

slothful and corrupt, it was dismantled, all save a small portion torn

down, and the island became the property first of impiety, embodied in a

French actress, and finally of heresy, embodied in an English clergyman.

Bought back for the Church by the Bishop of Frejus in 1859, there

was little revival of life for twelve years. Then came the reaction,

religious and political, after the humiliation of France and the Vatican

by Germany; and of this reaction the monastery of St. Honorat was made

one of the most striking outward and visible signs. Pius IX interested

himself directly in it, called into it a body of Cistercian monks,

and it became the chief seat of their order in France. To restore its

sacredness the strict system of La Trappe was established--labour,

silence, meditation on death. The word thus given from Rome was seconded

in France by cardinals, archbishops, and all churchmen especially

anxious for promotion in this world or salvation in the next. Worn-out

dukes and duchesses of the Faubourg Saint-Germain united in this

enterprise of pious reaction with the frivolous youngsters, the petits

creves, who haunt the purlieus of Notre Dame de Lorette. The great

church of the monastery was handsomely rebuilt and a multitude of

altars erected; and beautiful frescoes and stained windows came from

the leaders of the reaction. The whole effect was, perhaps, somewhat

theatrical and thin, but it showed none the less earnestness in making

the old "Isle of Saints" a protest against the hated modern world.

As if to bid defiance still further to modern liberalism, great store of

relics was sent in; among these, pieces of the true cross, of the

white and purple robes, of the crown of thorns, sponge, lance, and

winding-sheet of Christ,--the hair, robe, veil, and girdle of the

Blessed Virgin; relics of St. John the Baptist, St. Joseph, St. Mary

Magdalene, St. Paul, St. Barnabas, the four evangelists, and a multitude

of other saints: so many that the bare mention of these treasures

requires twenty-four distinct heads in the official catalogue recently

published at the monastery. Besides all this--what was considered even

more powerful in warding off harm from the revived monastery--the bones

of Christian martyrs were brought from the Roman catacombs and laid

beneath the altars.(264)

(264) See the Guide des Visiteurs a Lerins, published at the Monastery

in 1880, p. 204; also the Histoire de Lerins, mentioned below.

All was thus conformed to the medieval view; nothing was to be left

which could remind one of the nineteenth century; the "ages of faith"

were to be restored in their simplicity. Pope Leo XIII commended to the

brethren the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas as their one great object of

study, and works published at the monastery dwelt upon the miracles of

St. Honorat as the most precious refutation of modern science.

High in the cupola, above the altars and relics, were placed the bells.

Sent by pious donors, they were solemnly baptized and consecrated

in 1871, four bishops officiating, a multitude of the faithful being

present from all parts of Europe, and the sponsors of the great tenor

bell being the Bourbon claimant to the ducal throne of Parma and his

duchess. The good bishop who baptized the bells consecrated them with

a formula announcing their efficacy in driving away the "Prince of the

Power of the Air" and the lightning and tempests he provokes.

And then, above all, at the summit of the central spire, high above

relics, altars, and bells, was placed--A LIGHTNING-ROD!(265)

(265) See Guide, as above, p. 84. Les Isles de Lerins, by the Abbe

Alliez (Paris, 1860), and the Histoire de Lerins, by the same author,

are the authorities for the general history of the abbey, and are

especially strong in presenting the miracles of St. Honorat, etc. The

Cartulaire of the monastery, recently published, is also valuable. But

these do not cover the recent revival, for an account of which recourse

must be had to the very interesting and naive Guide already cited.

The account of the monastery, published under the direction of the

present worthy abbot, more than hints at the saving, by its bells, of

a ship which was wrecked a few years since on that coast; and yet, to

protect the bells and church and monks and relics from the very foe

whom, in the medieval faith, all these were thought most powerful

to drive away, recourse was had to the scientific discovery of that

"arch-infidel," Benjamin Franklin!

Perhaps the most striking recent example in Protestant lands of this

change from the old to the new occurred not long since in one of the

great Pacific dependencies of the British crown. At a time of severe

drought an appeal was made to the bishop, Dr. Moorhouse, to order public

prayers for rain. The bishop refused, advising the petitioners for the

future to take better care of their water supply, virtually telling

them, "Heaven helps those who help themselves." But most noteworthy in

this matter was it that the English Government, not long after, scanning

the horizon to find some man to take up the good work laid down by the

lamented Bishop Fraser, of Manchester, chose Dr. Moorhouse; and his

utterance upon meteorology, which a few generations since would have

been regarded by the whole Church as blasphemy, was universally alluded

to as an example of strong good sense, proving him especially fit for

one of the most important bishoprics in England.

Throughout Christendom, the prevalence of the conviction that

meteorology is obedient to laws is more and more evident. In cities

especially, where men are accustomed each day to see posted in public

places charts which show the storms moving over various parts of the

country, and to read in the morning papers scientific prophecies as to

the weather, the old view can hardly be very influential.

Significant of this was the feeling of the American people during the

fearful droughts a few years since in the States west of the Missouri.

No days were appointed for fasting and prayer to bring rain; there was

no attribution of the calamity to the wrath of God or the malice of

Satan; but much was said regarding the folly of our people in allowing

the upper regions of their vast rivers to be denuded of forests, thus

subjecting the States below to alternations of drought and deluge.

Partly as a result of this, a beginning has been made of teaching forest

culture in many schools, tree-planting societies have been formed, and

"Arbor Day" is recognised in several of the States. A true and noble

theology can hardly fail to recognise, in the love of Nature and care

for our fellow-men thus promoted, something far better, both from a

religious and a moral point of view, than any efforts to win the Divine

favour by flattery, or to avert Satanic malice by fetichism.

CHAPTER XII. FROM MAGIC TO CHEMISTRY AND PHYSICS.

I.

In all the earliest developments of human thought we find a strong

tendency to ascribe mysterious powers over Nature to men and women

especially gifted or skilled. Survivals of this view are found to

this day among savages and barbarians left behind in the evolution

of civilization, and especially is this the case among the tribes of

Australia, Africa, and the Pacific coast of America. Even in the most

enlightened nations still appear popular beliefs, observances, or

sayings, drawn from this earlier phase of thought.

Between the prehistoric savage developing this theory, and therefore

endeavouring to deal with the powers of Nature by magic, and the modern

man who has outgrown it, appears a long line of nations struggling

upward through it. As the hieroglyphs, cuneiform inscriptions, and

various other records of antiquity are read, the development of this

belief can be studied in Egypt, India, Babylonia, Assyria, Persia, and

Phoenicia. From these civilizations it came into the early thought of

Greece and Rome, but especially into the Jewish and Christian sacred

books. Both in the Old Testament and in the New we find magic,

witchcraft, and soothsaying constantly referred to as realities.(266)

(266) For magic in prehistoric times and survivals of it since, with

abundant citation of authorities, see Tylor, Primitive Culture, chap.

iv; also The Early History of Mankind, by the same author, third

edition, pp. 115 et seq., also p. 380.; also Andrew Lang, Myth, Ritual,

and Religion, vol. i, chap iv. For magic in Egypt, see Lenormant,

Chaldean Magic, chaps. vi-viii; also Maspero, Histoire Ancienne des

Peuples de l'Orient; also Maspero and Sayce, The Dawn of Civilization,

p. 282, and for the threat of magicians to wreck heaven, see ibid, p.

17, note, and especially the citations from Chabas, Le Papyrus Magique

Harris, in chap. vii; also Maury, La Magie et l'Astrologie dans

l'Antiquite et au Moyen Age. For magic in Chaldea, see Lenormant as

above; also Maspero and Sayce, pp. 780 et seq. For examples of magical

powers in India, see Max Muller's Sacred Books of the East, vol. xvi,

pp. 121 et seq. For a legendary view of magic in Media, see the Zend

Avesta, part i, p. 14, translated by Darmsteter; and for a more highly

developed view, see the Zend Avesta, part iii, p. 239, translated by

Mill. For magic in Greece and Rome, and especially in the Neoplatonic

school, as well as in the Middle Ages, see especially Maury, La Magie

et l'Astrologie, chaps. iii-v. For various sorts of magic recognised and

condemned in our sacred books, see Deuteronomy xviii, 10, 11; and for

the burning of magical books at Ephesus under the influence of St.

Paul, see Acts xix, 14. See also Ewald, History of Israel, Martineau's

translation, fourth edition, vol. iii, pp. 45-51. For a very elaborate

summing up of the passages in our sacred books recognizing magic as a

fact, see De Haen, De Magia, Leipsic, 1775, chaps. i, ii, and iii, of

the first part. For the general subject of magic, see Ennemoser, History

of Magic, translated by Howitt, which, however, constantly mixes sorcery

with magic proper.

The first distinct impulse toward a higher view of research into

natural laws was given by the philosophers of Greece. It is true that

philosophical opposition to physical research was at times strong, and

that even a great thinker like Socrates considered certain physical

investigations as an impious intrusion into the work of the gods. It

is also true that Plato and Aristotle, while bringing their thoughts

to bear upon the world with great beauty and force, did much to draw

mankind away from those methods which in modern times have produced the

best results.

Plato developed a world in which the physical sciences had little if any

real reason for existing; Aristotle, a world in which the same sciences

were developed largely indeed by observation of what is, but still more

by speculation on what ought to be. From the former of these two great

men came into Christian theology many germs of medieval magic, and from

the latter sundry modes of reasoning which aided in the evolution of

these; yet the impulse to human thought given by these great masters

was of inestimable value to our race, and one legacy from them was

especially precious--the idea that a science of Nature is possible, and

that the highest occupation of man is the discovery of its laws. Still

another gift from them was greatest of all, for they gave scientific

freedom. They laid no interdict upon new paths; they interposed no

barriers to the extension of knowledge; they threatened no doom in this

life or in the next against investigators on new lines; they left the

world free to seek any new methods and to follow any new paths which

thinking men could find.

This legacy of belief in science, of respect for scientific pursuits,

and of freedom in scientific research, was especially received by the

school of Alexandria, and above all by Archimedes, who began, just

before the Christian era, to open new paths through the great field of

the inductive sciences by observation, comparison, and experiment.(267)

(267) As to the beginnings of physical science in Greece, and of

the theological opposition to physical science, also Socrates's view

regarding certain branches as interdicted to human study, see Grote's

History of Greece, vol. i, pp. 495 and 504, 505; also Jowett's

introduction to his translation of the Timaeus, and Whewell's History

of the Inductive Sciences. For examples showing the incompatibility of

Plato's methods in physical science with that pursued in modern times,

see Zeller, Plato and the Older Academy, English translation by Alleyne

and Goodwin, pp. 375 et. seq. The supposed opposition to freedom of

opinion in the Laws of Plato, toward the end of his life, can hardly

make against the whole spirit of Greek thought.

The establishment of Christianity, beginning a new evolution of

theology, arrested the normal development of the physical sciences for

over fifteen hundred years. The cause of this arrest was twofold: First,

there was created an atmosphere in which the germs of physical science

could hardly grow--an atmosphere in which all seeking in Nature for

truth as truth was regarded as futile. The general belief derived from

the New Testament Scriptures was, that the end of the world was at

hand; that the last judgment was approaching; that all existing physical

nature was soon to be destroyed: hence, the greatest thinkers in the

Church generally poured contempt upon all investigators into a science

of Nature, and insisted that everything except the saving of souls was

folly.

This belief appears frequently through the entire period of the Middle

Ages; but during the first thousand years it is clearly dominant. From

Lactantius and Eusebius, in the third century, pouring contempt, as

we have seen, over studies in astronomy, to Peter Damian, the noted

chancellor of Pope Gregory VII, in the eleventh century, declaring all

worldly sciences to be "absurdities" and "fooleries," it becomes a very

important element in the atmosphere of thought.(268)

(268) For the view of Peter Damian and others through the Middle Ages

as to the futility of scientific investigation, see citations in Eicken,

Geschichte und System der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung, chap. vi.

Then, too, there was established a standard to which all science which

did struggle up through this atmosphere must be made to conform--a

standard which favoured magic rather than science, for it was a standard

of rigid dogmatism obtained from literal readings in the Jewish and

Christian Scriptures. The most careful inductions from ascertained facts

were regarded as wretchedly fallible when compared with any view of

nature whatever given or even hinted at in any poem, chronicle, code,

apologue, myth, legend, allegory, letter, or discourse of any sort which

had happened to be preserved in the literature which had come to be held

as sacred.

For twelve centuries, then, the physical sciences were thus discouraged

or perverted by the dominant orthodoxy. Whoever studied nature studied

it either openly to find illustrations of the sacred text, useful in the

"saving of souls," or secretly to gain the aid of occult powers, useful

in securing personal advantage. Great men like Bede, Isidore of Seville,

and Rabanus Maurus, accepted the scriptural standard of science and used

it as a means of Christian edification. The views of Bede and Isidore on

kindred subjects have been shown in former chapters; and typical of the

view taken by Rabanus is the fact that in his great work on the Universe

there are only two chapters which seem directly or indirectly to

recognise even the beginnings of a real philosophy of nature. A

multitude of less-known men found warrant in Scripture for magic applied

to less worthy purposes.(269)

(269) As typical examples, see utterances of Eusibius and Lactantius

regarding astronomers given in the chapter on Astronomy. For a summary

of Rabanus Maurus's doctrine of physics, see Heller, Geschichte der

Physik, vol. i, pp. 172 et seq. For Bede and Isidore, see the earlier

chapters of this work. For an excellent statement regarding the

application of scriptural standards to scientific research in the

Middle Ages, see Kretschemr, Die physische Erdkunde im christlichen

Mittelalter, pp. 5 et seq. For the distinctions in magic recognised in

the mediaeval Church, see the long catalogue of various sorts given in

the Abbe Migne's Encyclopedie Theologique, third series, article Magic.

But after the thousand years had passed to which various thinkers in the

Church, upon supposed scriptural warrant, had lengthened out the term of

the earth's existence, "the end of all things" seemed further off than

ever; and in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, owing to causes which

need not be dwelt upon here, came a great revival of thought, so that

the forces of theology and of science seemed arrayed for a contest. On

one side came a revival of religious fervour, and to this day the works

of the cathedral builders mark its depth and strength; on the other side

came a new spirit of inquiry incarnate in a line of powerful thinkers.

First among these was Albert of Bollstadt, better known as Albert the

Great, the most renowned scholar of his time. Fettered though he was by

the methods sanctioned in the Church, dark as was all about him, he

had conceived better methods and aims; his eye pierced the mists of

scholasticism. he saw the light, and sought to draw the world toward it.

He stands among the great pioneers of physical and natural science; he

aided in giving foundations to botany and chemistry; he rose above his

time, and struck a heavy blow at those who opposed the possibility of

human life on opposite sides of the earth; he noted the influence of

mountains, seas, and forests upon races and products, so that Humboldt

justly finds in his works the germs of physical geography as a

comprehensive science.

But the old system of deducing scientific truth from scriptural

texts was renewed in the development of scholastic theology, and

ecclesiastical power, acting through thousands of subtle channels, was

made to aid this development. The old idea of the futility of physical

science and of the vast superiority of theology was revived. Though

Albert's main effort was to Christianize science, he was dealt with

by the authorities of the Dominican order, subjected to suspicion and

indignity, and only escaped persecution for sorcery by yielding to the

ecclesiastical spirit of the time, and working finally in theological

channels by, scholastic methods.

It was a vast loss to the earth; and certainly, of all organizations

that have reason to lament the pressure of ecclesiasticism which turned

Albert the Great from natural philosophy to theology, foremost of all in

regret should be the Christian Church, and especially the Roman branch

of it. Had there been evolved in the Church during the thirteenth

century a faith strong enough to accept the truths in natural science

which Albert and his compeers could have given, and to have encouraged

their growth, this faith and this encouragement would to this day have

formed the greatest argument for proving the Church directly under

Divine guidance; they would have been among the brightest jewels in

her crown. The loss to the Church by this want of faith and courage has

proved in the long run even greater than the loss to science.(270)

(270) For a very careful discussion of Albert's strength in

investigation and weakness in yielding to scholastic authority, see

Kopp, Ansichten uber die Aufgabe der Chemie von Geber bis Stahl,

Braunschweig, 1875, pp. 64 et seq. For a very extended and enthusiastic

biographical sketch, see Pouchet. For comparison of his work with that

of Thomas Aquinas, see Milman, History of Latin Christianity, vol. vi,

p. 461. "Il etat aussi tres-habile dans les arts mecaniques, ce que le

fit soupconner d'etre sorcier" (Sprengel, Histoire de la Medecine, vol.

ii, p. 389). For Albert's biography treated strictly in accordance

with ecclesiastical methods, see Albert the Great, by Joachim Sighart,

translated by the Rev. T. A. Dickson, of the Order of Preachers,

published under the sanction of the Dominican censor and of the Cardinal

Archbishop of Westminster, London, 1876. How an Englishman like Cardinal

Manning could tolerate among Englishmen such glossing over of historical

truth is one of the wonders of contemporary history. For choice

specimens, see chapters ii, and iv. For one of the best and most recent

summaries, see Heller, Geschichte der Physik, Stuttgart, 1882, vol. i,

pp. 179 et seq.

The next great man of that age whom the theological and ecclesiastical

forces of the time turned from the right path was Vincent of Beauvais.

During the first half of the twelfth century he devoted himself to the

study of Nature in several of her most interesting fields. To astronomy,

botany, and zoology he gave special attention, but in a larger way

he made a general study of the universe, and in a series of treatises

undertook to reveal the whole field of science. But his work simply

became a vast commentary on the account of creation given in the book of

Genesis. Beginning with the work of the Trinity at the creation, he

goes on to detail the work of angels in all their fields, and makes

excursions into every part of creation, visible and invisible, but

always with the most complete subordination of his thought to the

literal statements of Scripture. Could he have taken the path of

experimental research, the world would have been enriched with most

precious discoveries; but the force which had given wrong direction to

Albert of Bollstadt, backed as it was by the whole ecclesiastical power

of his time, was too strong, and in all the life labour of Vincent

nothing appears of any permanent value. He reared a structure which

the adaptation of facts to literal interpretations of Scripture and the

application of theological subtleties to nature combine to make one of

the most striking monuments of human error.(271)

(271) For Vincent de Beauvais, see Etudes sur Vincent de Beauvais, par

l'Abbe Bourgeat, chaps. xii, xiii, and xiv; also Pouchet, Histoire des

Sciences Naturelles au Moyen Age, Paris, 1853, pp. 470 et seq; also

other histories cited hereafter.

But the theological spirit of the thirteenth century gained its greatest

victory in the work of St. Thomas Aquinas. In him was the theological

spirit of his age incarnate. Although he yielded somewhat at one period

to love of natural science, it was he who finally made that great treaty

or compromise which for ages subjected science entirely to theology. He

it was who reared the most enduring barrier against those who in that

age and in succeeding ages laboured to open for science the path by its

own methods toward its own ends.

He had been the pupil of Albert the Great, and had gained much from him.

Through the earlier systems of philosophy, as they were then known, and

through the earlier theologic thought, he had gone with great labour

and vigour; and all his mighty powers, thus disciplined and cultured, he

brought to bear in making a truce which was to give theology permanent

supremacy over science.

The experimental method had already been practically initiated: Albert

of Bollstadt and Roger Bacon had begun their work in accordance with its

methods; but St. Thomas gave all his thoughts to bringing science again

under the sway of theological methods and ecclesiastical control. In his

commentary on Aristotle's treatise upon Heaven and Earth he gave to the

world a striking example of what his method could produce, illustrating

all the evils which arise in combining theological reasoning and literal

interpretation of Scripture with scientific facts; and this work remains

to this day a monument of scientific genius perverted by theology.(272)

(272) For citations showing this subordination of science to theology,

see Eicken, chap. vi.

The ecclesiastical power of the time hailed him as a deliverer, it was

claimed that miracles were vouchsafed, proving that the blessing of

Heaven rested upon his labours, and among the legends embodying this

claim is that given by the Bollandists and immortalized by a renowned

painter. The great philosopher and saint is represented in the habit

of his order, with book and pen in hand, kneeling before the image

of Christ crucified, and as he kneels the image thus addresses him:

"Thomas, thou hast written well concerning me; what price wilt thou

receive for thy labour?" The myth-making faculty of the people at large

was also brought into play. According to a widespread and circumstantial

legend, Albert, by magical means, created an android--an artificial man,

living, speaking, and answering all questions with such subtlety that

St. Thomas, unable to answer its reasoning, broke it to pieces with his

staff.

Historians of the Roman Church like Rohrbacher, and historians of

science like Pouchet, have found it convenient to propitiate the Church

by dilating upon the glories of St. Thomas Aquinas in thus making

an alliance between religious and scientific thought, and laying the

foundations for a "sanctified science"; but the unprejudiced historian

can not indulge in this enthusiastic view: the results both for the

Church and for science have been most unfortunate. It was a wretched

delay in the evolution of fruitful thought, for the first result of this

great man's great compromise was to close for ages that path in science

which above all others leads to discoveries of value--the experimental

method--and to reopen that old path of mixed theology and science which,

as Hallam declares, "after three or four hundred years had not untied

a single knot or added one unequivocal truth to the domain of

philosophy"--the path which, as all modern history proves, has ever

since led only to delusion and evil.(273)

(273) For the work of Aquinas, see his Liber de Caelo et Mundo, section

xx; also Life and Labours of St. Thomas of Aquin, by Archbishop Vaughn,

pp. 459 et seq. For his labours in natural science, see Hoefer, Histoire

de la Chimie, Paris, 1843, vol. i, p. 381. For theological views of

science in the Middle Ages, and rejoicing thereat, see Pouchet, Hist.

des Sci. Nat. au Moyen Age, ubi supra. Pouchet says: " En general au

milieu du moyen age les sciences sont essentiellement chretiennes,

leur but est tout-a-fait religieux, et elles sembent beaucoup moins

s'inquieter de l'avancement intellectuel de l'homme que de son salut

eternel." Pouchet calls this "conciliation" into a "harmonieux ensemble"

"la plus glorieuse des conquetes intellectuelles du moyen age." Pouchet

belongs to Rouen, and the shadow of the Rouen Cathedral seems thrown

over all his history. See, also, l'Abbe Rohrbacher, Hist. de l'Eglise

Catholique, Paris, 1858, vol. xviii, pp. 421 et seq. The abbe dilates

upon the fact that "the Church organizes the agreement of all the

sciences by the labours of St. Thomas of Aquin and his contemporaries."

For the complete subordination of science to theology by St. Thomas, see

Eicken, chap. vi. For the theological character of science in the

Middle Ages, recognised by a Protestant philosophic historian, see the

well-known passage in Guizot, History of Civilization in Europe; and

by a noted Protestant ecclesiatic, see Bishop Hampden's Life of Thomas

Aquinas, chaps. xxxvi, xxxvii; see also Hallam, Middle Ages, chap. ix.

For dealings of Pope John XXII, of the Kings of France and England, and

of the Republic of Venice, see Figuier, L'Alchimie et la Alchimistes,

pp. 140, 141, where, in a note, the text of the bull Spondet paritur is

given. For popular legends regarding Albert and St. Thomas, see Eliphas

Levi, Hist. de la Magie, liv. iv, chap. iv.

The theological path thus opened by these strong men became the main

path for science during ages, and it led the world ever further

and further from any fruitful fact or useful method. Roger Bacon's

investigations already begun were discredited: worthless mixtures of

scriptural legends with imperfectly authenticated physical facts took

their place. Thus it was that for twelve hundred years the minds in

control of Europe regarded all real science as FUTILE, and diverted the

great current of earnest thought into theology.

The next stage in this evolution was the development of an idea which

acted with great force throughout the Middle Ages--the idea that science

is DANGEROUS. This belief was also of very ancient origin. From the time

when the Egyptian magicians made their tremendous threat that unless

their demands were granted they would reach out to the four corners of

the earth, pull down the pillars of heaven, wreck the abodes of the gods

above and crush those of men below, fear of these representatives of

science is evident in the ancient world.

But differences in the character of magic were recognised, some sorts

being considered useful and some baleful. Of the former was magic used

in curing diseases, in determining times auspicious for enterprises, and

even in contributing to amusement; of the latter was magic used to bring

disease and death on men and animals or tempests upon the growing crops.

Hence gradually arose a general distinction between white magic, which

dealt openly with the more beneficent means of nature, and black magic,

which dealt secretly with occult, malignant powers.

Down to the Christian era the fear of magic rarely led to any

persecution very systematic or very cruel. While in Greece and Rome laws

were at times enacted against magicians, they were only occasionally

enforced with rigour, and finally, toward the end of the pagan empire,

the feeling against them seemed dying out altogether. As to its more

kindly phases, men like Marcus Aurelius and Julian did not hesitate to

consult those who claimed to foretell the future. As to black magic, it

seemed hardly worth while to enact severe laws, when charms, amulets,

and even gestures could thwart its worst machinations.

Moreover, under the old empire a real science was coming in, and thought

was progressing. Both the theory and practice of magic were more and

more held up to ridicule. Even as early a writer as Ennius ridiculed

the idea that magicians, who were generally poor and hungry themselves,

could bestow wealth on others; Pliny, in his Natural Philosophy, showed

at great length their absurdities and cheatery; others followed in the

same line of thought, and the whole theory, except among the very lowest

classes, seemed dying out.

But with the development of Christian theology came a change. The idea

of the active interference of Satan in magic, which had come into the

Hebrew mind with especial force from Persia during the captivity of

Israel, had passed from the Hebrew Scriptures into Christianity, and

had been made still stronger by various statements in the New Testament.

Theologians laid stress especially upon the famous utterances of the

Psalmist that "all the gods of the heathen are devils," and of St.

Paul that "the things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice

to devils"; and it was widely held that these devils were naturally

indignant at their dethronement and anxious to wreak vengeance upon

Christianity. Magicians were held to be active agents of these dethroned

gods, and this persuasion was strengthened by sundry old practitioners

in the art of magic--impostors who pretended to supernatural powers, and

who made use of old rites and phrases inherited from paganism.

Hence it was that as soon as Christianity came into power it more than

renewed the old severities against the forbidden art, and one of the

first acts of the Emperor Constantine after his conversion was to enact

a most severe law against magic and magicians, under which the main

offender might be burned alive. But here, too, it should be noted that

a distinction between the two sorts of magic was recognised, for

Constantine shortly afterward found it necessary to issue a proclamation

stating that his intention was only to prohibit deadly and malignant

magic; that he had no intention of prohibiting magic used to cure

diseases and to protect the crops from hail and tempests. But as new

emperors came to the throne who had not in them that old leaven of

paganism which to the last influenced Constantine, and as theology

obtained a firmer hold, severity against magic increased. Toleration of

it, even in its milder forms, was more and more denied. Black magic and

white were classed together.

This severity went on increasing and threatened the simplest efforts in

physics and chemistry; even the science of mathematics was looked upon

with dread. By the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the older theology

having arrived at the climax of its development in Europe, terror of

magic and witchcraft took complete possession of the popular mind. In

sculpture, painting, and literature it appeared in forms ever more and

more striking. The lives of saints were filled with it. The cathedral

sculpture embodied it in every part. The storied windows made it all

the more impressive. The missal painters wrought it not only into prayer

books, but, despite the fact that hardly a trace of the belief appears

in the Psalms, they illustrated it in the great illuminated psalters

from which the noblest part of the service was sung before the high

altar. The service books showed every form of agonizing petition for

delivery from this dire influence, and every form of exorcism for

thwarting it.

All the great theologians of the Church entered into this belief and

aided to develop it. The fathers of the early Church were full and

explicit, and the medieval doctors became more and more minute in

describing the operations of the black art and in denouncing them.

It was argued that, as the devil afflicted Job, so he and his minions

continue to cause diseases; that, as Satan is the Prince of the power

of the air, he and his minions cause tempests; that the cases of

Nebuchadnezzar and Lot's wife prove that sorcerers can transform human

beings into animals or even lifeless matter; that, as the devils of

Gadara were cast into swine, all animals could be afflicted in the same

manner; and that, as Christ himself had been transported through the air

by the power of Satan, so any human being might be thus transported to

"an exceeding high mountain."

Thus the horror of magic and witchcraft increased on every hand, and in

1317 Pope John XXII issued his bull Spondent pariter, levelled at the

alchemists, but really dealing a terrible blow at the beginnings of

chemical science. That many alchemists were knavish is no doubt true,

but no infallibility in separating the evil from the good was shown by

the papacy in this matter. In this and in sundry other bulls and

briefs we find Pope John, by virtue of his infallibility as the world's

instructor in all that pertains to faith and morals, condemning real

science and pseudo-science alike. In two of these documents, supposed

to be inspired by wisdom from on high, he complains that both he and

his flock are in danger of their lives by the arts of the sorcerers;

he declares that such sorcerers can send devils into mirrors and finger

rings, and kill men and women by a magic word; that they had tried to

kill him by piercing a waxen image of him with needles in the name

of the devil. He therefore called on all rulers, secular and

ecclesiastical, to hunt down the miscreants who thus afflicted the

faithful, and he especially increased the powers of inquisitors in

various parts of Europe for this purpose.

The impulse thus given to childish fear and hatred against the

investigation of nature was felt for centuries; more and more chemistry

came to be known as one of the "seven devilish arts."

Thus began a long series of demonstrations against magic from the centre

of Christendom. In 1437, and again in 1445, Pope Eugene IV issued

bulls exhorting inquisitors to be more diligent in searching out and

delivering over to punishment magicians and witches who produced bad

weather, the result being that persecution received a fearful impulse.

But the worst came forty years later still, when, in 1484, there came

the yet more terrible bull of Pope Innocent VIII, known as Summis

Desiderantes, which let inquisitors loose upon Germany, with Sprenger

at their head, armed with the Witch-Hammer, the fearful manual Malleus

Maleficarum, to torture and destroy men and women by tens of thousands

for sorcery and magic. Similar bulls were issued in 1504 by Julius II,

and in 1523 by Adrian VI.

The system of repression thus begun lasted for hundreds of years. The

Reformation did little to change it, and in Germany, where Catholics and

Protestants vied with each other in proving their orthodoxy, it was at

its worst. On German soil more than one hundred thousand victims

are believed to have been sacrificed to it between the middle of the

fifteenth and the middle of the sixteenth centuries.

Thus it was that from St. Augustine to St. Thomas Aquinas, from Aquinas

to Luther, and from Luther to Wesley, theologians of both branches of

the Church, with hardly an exception, enforced the belief in magic and

witchcraft, and, as far as they had power, carried out the injunction,

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

How this was ended by the progress of scientific modes of thought I

shall endeavour to show elsewhere: here we are only concerned with the

effect of this widespread terrorism on the germs and early growth of the

physical sciences.

Of course, the atmosphere created by this persecution of magicians was

deadly to any open beginnings of experimental science. The conscience of

the time, acting in obedience to the highest authorities of the Church,

and, as was supposed, in defence of religion, now brought out a missile

which it hurled against scientific investigators with deadly effect. The

mediaeval battlefields of thought were strewn with various forms of it.

This missile was the charge of unlawful compact with Satan, and it was

most effective. We find it used against every great investigator of

nature in those times and for ages after. The list of great men in

those centuries charged with magic, as given by Naude, is astounding; it

includes every man of real mark, and in the midst of them stands one of

the most thoughtful popes, Sylvester II (Gerbert), and the foremost of

mediaeval thinkers on natural science, Albert the Great. It came to be

the accepted idea that, as soon as a man conceived a wish to study the

works of God, his first step must be a league with the devil.

It was entirely natural, then, that in 1163 Pope Alexander III, in

connection with the Council of Tours, forbade the study of physics to

all ecclesiastics, which, of course, in that age meant prohibition of

all such scientific studies to the only persons likely to make them.

What the Pope then expressly forbade was, in the words of the papal

bull, "the study of physics or the laws of the world," and it was

added that any person violating this rule "shall be avoided by all and

excommunicated."(274)

(274) For the charge of magic against scholars and others, see Naude,

Apologie pour les Grands Hommes soupconnes de Magie, passim; also Maury,

Hist. de la Magie, troisieme edition, pp. 214, 215; also Cuvier, Hist.

des Sciences Naturelles, vol. i, p. 396. For the prohibition by the

Council of Tours and Alexander III, see the Acta Conciliorum (ed.

Harduin), tom. vi, pars ii, p. 1598, Canon viii.

The first great thinker who, in spite of some stumbling into theologic

pitfalls, persevered in a truly scientific path, was Roger Bacon. His

life and works seem until recently to have been generally misunderstood:

he was formerly ranked as a superstitious alchemist who happened upon

some inventions, but more recent investigation has shown him to be one

of the great masters in the evolution of human thought. The advance of

sound historical judgment seems likely to bring the fame of the two who

bear the name of Bacon nearly to equality. Bacon of the chancellorship

and of the Novum Organum may not wane, but Bacon of the prison cell and

the Opus Majus steadily approaches him in brightness.

More than three centuries before Francis Bacon advocated the

experimental method, Roger Bacon practised it, and the results as now

revealed are wonderful. He wrought with power in many sciences, and his

knowledge was sound and exact. By him, more than by any other man of

the Middle Ages, was the world brought into the more fruitful paths

of scientific thought--the paths which have led to the most precious

inventions; and among these are clocks, lenses, and burning specula,

which were given by him to the world, directly or indirectly. In his

writings are found formulae for extracting phosphorus, manganese, and

bismuth. It is even claimed, with much appearance of justice, that

he investigated the power of steam, and he seems to have very nearly

reached some of the principal doctrines of modern chemistry. But it

should be borne in mind that his METHOD of investigation was even

greater than its RESULTS. In an age when theological subtilizing

was alone thought to give the title of scholar, he insisted on REAL

reasoning and the aid of natural science by mathematics; in an age when

experimenting was sure to cost a man his reputation, and was likely

to cost him his life, he insisted on experimenting, and braved all

its risks. Few greater men have lived. As we follow Bacon's process of

reasoning regarding the refraction of light, we see that he was divinely

inspired.

On this man came the brunt of the battle. The most conscientious men

of his time thought it their duty to fight him, and they fought him

steadily and bitterly. His sin was not disbelief in Christianity, not

want of fidelity to the Church, not even dissent from the main lines of

orthodoxy; on the contrary, he showed in all his writings a desire

to strengthen Christianity, to build up the Church, and to develop

orthodoxy. He was attacked and condemned mainly because he did not

believe that philosophy had become complete, and that nothing more was

to be learned; he was condemned, as his opponents expressly declared,

"on account of certain suspicious novelties"--"propter quasdam novitates

suspectas."

Upon his return to Oxford, about 1250, the forces of unreason beset him

on all sides. Greatest of all his enemies was Bonaventura. This enemy

was the theologic idol of the period: the learned world knew him as the

"seraphic Doctor"; Dante gave him an honoured place in the great poem

of the Middle Ages; the Church finally enrolled him among the saints. By

force of great ability in theology he had become, in the middle of the

thirteenth century, general of the Franciscan order: thus, as Bacon's

master, his hands were laid heavily on the new teaching, so that in 1257

the troublesome monk was forbidden to lecture; all men were solemnly

warned not to listen to his teaching, and he was ordered to Paris, to

be kept under surveillance by the monastic authorities. Herein was

exhibited another of the myriad examples showing the care exercised over

scientific teaching by the Church. The reasons for thus dealing with

Bacon were evident: First, he had dared attempt scientific explanations

of natural phenomena, which under the mystic theology of the Middle

Ages had been referred simply to supernatural causes. Typical was his

explanation of the causes and character of the rainbow. It was clear,

cogent, a great step in the right direction as regards physical science:

but there, in the book of Genesis, stood the legend regarding the origin

of the rainbow, supposed to have been dictated immediately by the Holy

Spirit; and, according to that, the "bow in the cloud" was not the

result of natural laws, but a "sign" arbitrarily placed in the heavens

for the simple purpose of assuring mankind that there was not to be

another universal deluge.

But this was not the worst: another theological idea was arrayed against

him--the idea of Satanic intervention in science; hence he was attacked

with that goodly missile which with the epithets "infidel" and "atheist"

has decided the fate of so many battles--the charge of magic and compact

with Satan.

He defended himself with a most unfortunate weapon--a weapon which

exploded in his hands and injured him more than the enemy; for he argued

against the idea of compacts with Satan, and showed that much which is

ascribed to demons results from natural means. This added fuel to the

flame. To limit the power of Satan was deemed hardly less impious than

to limit the power of God.

The most powerful protectors availed him little. His friend Guy of

Foulques, having in 1265 been made Pope under the name of Clement IV,

shielded him for a time; but the fury of the enemy was too strong, and

when he made ready to perform a few experiments before a small audience,

we are told that all Oxford was in an uproar. It was believed that

Satan was about to be let loose. Everywhere priests, monks, fellows,

and students rushed about, their garments streaming in the wind, and

everywhere rose the cry, "Down with the magician!" and this cry, "Down

with the magician!" resounded from cell to cell and from hall to hall.

Another weapon was also used upon the battlefields of science in that

time with much effect. The Arabs had made many noble discoveries in

science, and Averroes had, in the opinion of many, divided the honours

with St. Thomas Aquinas; these facts gave the new missile--it was the

epithet "Mohammedan"; this, too, was flung with effect at Bacon.

The attack now began to take its final shape. The two great religious

orders, Franciscan and Dominican, then in all the vigour of their

youth, vied with each other in fighting the new thought in chemistry

and physics. St. Dominic solemnly condemned research by experiment and

observation; the general of the Franciscan order took similar ground.

In 1243 the Dominicans interdicted every member of their order from the

study of medicine and natural philosophy, and in 1287 this interdiction

was extended to the study of chemistry.

In 1278 the authorities of the Franciscan order assembled at Paris,

solemnly condemned Bacon's teaching, and the general of the Franciscans,

Jerome of Ascoli, afterward Pope, threw him into prison, where he

remained for fourteen years, Though Pope Clement IV had protected him,

Popes Nicholas III and IV, by virtue of their infallibility, decided

that he was too dangerous to be at large, and he was only released at

the age of eighty--but a year or two before death placed him beyond the

reach of his enemies. How deeply the struggle had racked his mind may be

gathered from that last affecting declaration of his, "Would that I had

not given myself so much trouble for the love of science!"

The attempt has been made by sundry champions of the Church to show that

some of Bacon's utterances against ecclesiastical and other corruptions

in his time were the main cause of the severity which the Church

authorities exercised against him. This helps the Church but little,

even if it be well based; but it is not well based. That some of his

utterances of this sort made him enemies is doubtless true, but the

charges on which St. Bonaventura silenced him, and Jerome of Ascoli

imprisoned him, and successive popes kept him in prison for fourteen

years, were "dangerous novelties" and suspected sorcery.

Sad is it to think of what this great man might have given to the world

had ecclesiasticism allowed the gift. He held the key of treasures

which would have freed mankind from ages of error and misery. With his

discoveries as a basis, with his method as a guide, what might not the

world have gained! Nor was the wrong done to that age alone; it was done

to this age also. The nineteenth century was robbed at the same

time with the thirteenth. But for that interference with science the

nineteenth century would be enjoying discoveries which will not be

reached before the twentieth century, and even later. Thousands of

precious lives shall be lost, tens of thousands shall suffer discomfort,

privation, sickness, poverty, ignorance, for lack of discoveries and

methods which, but for this mistaken dealing with Roger Bacon and his

compeers, would now be blessing the earth.

In two recent years sixty thousand children died in England and in Wales

of scarlet fever; probably quite as many died in the United States. Had

not Bacon been hindered, we should have had in our hands, by this time,

the means to save two thirds of these victims; and the same is true

of typhoid, typhus, cholera, and that great class of diseases of

whose physical causes science is just beginning to get an inkling. Put

together all the efforts of all the atheists who have ever lived, and

they have not done so much harm to Christianity and the world as has

been done by the narrow-minded, conscientious men who persecuted Roger

Bacon, and closed the path which he gave his life to open.

But despite the persecution of Bacon and the defection of those who

ought to have followed him, champions of the experimental method rose

from time to time during the succeeding centuries. We know little of

them personally; our main knowledge of their efforts is derived from the

endeavours of their persecutors.

Under such guidance the secular rulers were naturally vigorous. In

France Charles V forbade, in 1380, the possession of furnaces and

apparatus necessary for chemical processes; under this law the chemist

John Barrillon was thrown into prison, and it was only by the greatest

effort that his life was saved. In England Henry IV, in 1404, issued a

similar decree. In Italy the Republic of Venice, in 1418, followed these

examples. The judicial torture and murder of Antonio de Dominis were not

simply for heresy his investigations in the phenomena of light were

an additional crime. In Spain everything like scientific research was

crushed out among Christians. Some earnest efforts were afterward made

by Jews and Moors, but these were finally ended by persecution; and to

this hour the Spanish race, in some respects the most gifted in Europe,

which began its career with everything in its favour and with every form

of noble achievement, remains in intellectual development behind every

other in Christendom.

To question the theological view of physical science was, even long

after the close of the Middle Ages, exceedingly perilous. We have seen

how one of Roger Bacon's unpardonable offences was his argument against

the efficacy of magic, and how, centuries afterward, Cornelius Agrippa,

Weyer, Flade, Loos, Bekker, and a multitude of other investigators and

thinkers, suffered confiscation of property, loss of position, and even

torture and death, for similar views.(275)

(275) For an account of Bacon's treatise, De Nullitate Magiae, see

Hoefer. For the uproar caused by Bacon's teaching at Oxford, see Kopp,

Geschichte der Chemie, Braunschweig, 1869, vol. i, p. 63; and for a

somewhat reactionary discussion of Bacon's relation to the progress

of chemistry, see a recent work by the same author, Ansichten uber die

Aufgabe der Chemie, Braunschweig, 1874, pp. 85 et seq.; also, for an

excellent summary, see Hoefer, Hist. de la Chimie, vol. i, pp. 368 et

seq. For probably the most thorough study of Bacon's general works

in science, and for his views of the universe, see Prof. Werner, Die

Kosmologie und allgemeine Naturlehre des Roger Baco, Wein, 1879. For

summaries of his work in other fields, see Whewell, vol. i, pp. 367,

368; Draper, p. 438; Saisset, Descartes et ses Precurseurs, deuxieme

edition, pp. 397 et seq.; Nourrisson, Progres de la Pensee humaine, pp.

271, 272; Sprengel, Histoire de la Medecine, Paris, 1865, vol. ii, p.

397; Cuvier, Histoire des Sciences Naturelles, vol. i, p. 417. As to

Bacon's orthodoxy, see Saisset, pp. 53, 55. For special examination of

causes of Bacon's condemnation, see Waddington, cited by Saisset, p.

14. For a brief but admirable statement of Roger Bacon's realtion to

the world in his time, and of what he might have done had he not been

thwarted by theology, see Dollinger, Studies in European History,

English translation, London, 1890, pp. 178, 179. For a good example of

the danger of denying the full power of Satan, even in much more recent

times and in a Protestant country, see account of treatment in Bekker's

Monde Enchante by the theologians of Holland, in Nisard, Histoire des

Livres Populaires, vol. i, pp. 172, 173. Kopp, in his Ansichten, pushes

criticism even to some scepticism as to Roger Bacon being the DISCOVERER

of many of the things generally attributed to him; but, after all

deductions are carefully made, enough remains to make Bacon the greatest

benefactor to humanity during the Middle Ages. For Roger Bacon's

deep devotion to religion and the Church, see citation and remarks in

Schneider, Roger Bacon, Augsburg, 1873, p. 112; also, citation from

the Opus Majus, in Eicken, chap. vi. On Bacon as a "Mohammedan," see

Saisset, p. 17. For the interdiction of studies in physical science by

the Dominicans and Franciscans, see Henri Martin, Histoire de France,

vol. iv, p. 283. For suppression of chemical teaching by the Parliament

of Paris, see ibid., vol. xii, pp. 14, 15. For proofs that the world is

steadily working toward great discoveries as to the cause and prevention

of zymotic diseases and their propogation, see Beale's Disease Germs,

Baldwin Latham's Sanitary Engineering, Michel Levy's Traite a Hygiene

Publique et Privee. For a summary of the bull Spondent pariter, and for

an example of injury done by it, see Schneider, Geschichte der

Alchemie, p. 160; and for a studiously moderate statement, Milman, Latin

Christianity, book xii, chap. vi. For character and general efforts of

John XXII, see Lea, Inquisition, vol. iii, p. 436, also pp. 452 et seq.

For the character of the two papal briefs, see Rydberg, p. 177. For

the bull Summis Desiderantes, see previous chapters of this work. For

Antonio de Dominis, see Montucla, Hist. des Mathematiques, vol. i, p.

705; Humboldt, Cosmos; Libri, vol. iv, pp. 145 et seq. For Weyer, Flade,

Bekker, Loos, and others, see the chapters of this work on Meteorology,

Demoniacal Possession and Insanity, and Diabolism and Hysteria.

The theological atmosphere, which in consequence settled down about the

great universities and colleges, seemed likely to stifle all scientific

effort in every part of Europe, and it is one of the great wonders in

human history that in spite of this deadly atmosphere a considerable

body of thinking men, under such protection as they could secure, still

persisted in devoting themselves to the physical sciences.

In Italy, in the latter half of the sixteenth century, came a striking

example of the difficulties which science still encountered even after

the Renaissance had undermined the old beliefs. At that time John

Baptist Porta was conducting his investigations, and, despite a

considerable mixture of pseudo-science, they were fruitful. His was not

"black magic," claiming the aid of Satan, but "white magic," bringing

into service the laws of nature--the precursor of applied science. His

book on meteorology was the first in which sound ideas were broached

on this subject; his researches in optics gave the world the camera

obscura, and possibly the telescope; in chemistry he seems to have been

the first to show how to reduce the metallic oxides, and thus to have

laid the foundation of several important industries. He did much to

change natural philosophy from a black art to a vigorous open science.

He encountered the old ecclesiastical policy. The society founded by him

for physical research, "I Secreti," was broken up, and he was summoned

to Rome by Pope Paul III and forbidden to continue his investigations.

So, too, in France. In 1624, some young chemists at Paris having taught

the experimental method and cut loose from Aristotle, the faculty of

theology beset the Parliament of Paris, and the Parliament prohibited

these new chemical researches under the severest penalties.

The same war continued in Italy. Even after the belief in magic had been

seriously weakened, the old theological fear and dislike of physical

science continued. In 1657 occurred the first sitting of the Accademia

del Cimento at Florence, under the presidency of Prince Leopold de'

Medici This academy promised great things for science; it was open

to all talent; its only fundamental law was "the repudiation of

any favourite system or sect of philosophy, and the obligation to

investigate Nature by the pure light of experiment"; it entered into

scientific investigations with energy. Borelli in mathematics, Redi in

natural history, and many others, enlarged the boundaries of knowledge.

Heat, light, magnetism, electricity, projectiles, digestion, and the

incompressibility of water were studied by the right method and with

results that enriched the world.

The academy was a fortress of science, and siege was soon laid to

it. The votaries of scholastic learning denounced it as irreligious,

quarrels were fomented, Leopold was bribed with a cardinal's hat and

drawn away to Rome, and, after ten years of beleaguering, the fortress

fell: Borelli was left a beggar; Oliva killed himself in despair.

So, too, the noted Academy of the Lincei at times incurred the ill

will of the papacy by the very fact that it included thoughtful

investigators. It was "patronized" by Pope Urban VIII in such manner as

to paralyze it, and it was afterward vexed by Pope Gregory XVI. Even in

our own time sessions of scientific associations were discouraged and

thwarted by as kindly a pontiff as Pius IX.(276)

(276) For Porta, see the English translation of his main summary,

Natural Magick, London, 1658. The first chapters are especially

interesting, as showing what the word "magic" had come to mean in the

mind of a man in whom mediaeval and modern ideas were curiously mixed;

see also Hoefer, Histoire de la Chimie, vol. ii, pp. 102-106; also

Kopp; also Sprengel, Histoire de la Medecine, vol. iii, p. 239; also

Musset-Pathay. For the Accademia del Cimento, see Napier, Florentine

History, vol. v, p. 485; Tiraboschi, Storia della Litteratura; Henri

Martin, Histoire de France; Jevons, Principles of Science, vol. ii,

pp. 36-40. For value attached to Borelli's investigations by Newton and

Huygens, see Brewster's Life of Sir Isaac Newton, London, 1875, pp. 128,

129. Libri, in his first Essai sur Galilee, p. 37, says that Oliva was

summoned to Rome and so tortured by the Inquisition that, to escape

further cruelty, he ended his life by throwing himself from a window.

For interference by Pope Gregory XVI with the Academy of the Lincei, and

with public instruction generally, see Carutti, Storia della Accademia

dei Lincei, p. 126. Pius IX, with all his geniality, seems to have

allowed his hostility to voluntary associations to carry him very far

at times. For his answer to an application made through Lord Odo Russell

regarding a society for the prevention of cruelty to animals and his

answer that "such an association could not be sanctioned by the Holy

See, being founded on a theological error, to wit, that Christians owed

any duties to animals," see Frances Power Cobbe, Hopes of the Human

Race, p. 207.

A hostility similar in kind, though less in degree, was shown in

Protestant countries.

Even after Thomasius in Germany and Voltaire in France and Beccaria

in Italy had given final blows to the belief in magic and witchcraft

throughout Christendom, the traditional orthodox distrust of the

physical sciences continued for a long time.

In England a marked dislike was shown among various leading

ecclesiastics and theologians towards the Royal Society, and later

toward the Association for the Advancement of Science; and this dislike,

as will hereafter be seen, sometimes took shape in serious opposition.

As a rule, both in Protestant and Catholic countries instruction

in chemistry and physics was for a long time discouraged by Church

authorities; and, when its suppression was no longer possible, great

pains were taken to subordinate it to instruction supposed to be more

fully in accordance with the older methods of theological reasoning.

I have now presented in outline the more direct and open struggle of the

physical sciences with theology, mainly as an exterior foe. We will next

consider their warfare with the same foe in its more subtle form, mainly

as a vitiating and sterilizing principle in science itself.

We have seen thus far, first, how such men as Eusebius, Lactantius, and

their compeers, opposed scientific investigation as futile; next, how

such men as Albert the Great, St. Thomas Aquinas, and the multitude who

followed them, turned the main current of medieval thought from science

to theology; and, finally, how a long line of Church authorities from

Popes John XXII and Innocent VIII, and the heads of the great religious

orders, down to various theologians and ecclesiastics, Catholic and

Protestant, of a very recent period, endeavoured first to crush and

afterward to discourage scientific research as dangerous.

Yet, injurious as all this was to the evolution of science, there was

developed something in many respects more destructive; and this was

the influence of mystic theology, penetrating, permeating, vitiating,

sterilizing nearly every branch of science for hundreds of years. Among

the forms taken by this development in the earlier Middle Ages we find a

mixture of physical science with a pseudo-science obtained from texts

of Scripture. In compounding this mixture, Jews and Christians vied

with each other. In this process the sacred books were used as a fetich;

every word, every letter, being considered to have a divine and hidden

meaning. By combining various scriptural letters in various abstruse

ways, new words of prodigious significance in magic were obtained, and

among them the great word embracing the seventy-two mystical names of

God--the mighty word "Schemhamphoras." Why should men seek knowledge

by observation and experiment in the book of Nature, when the book of

Revelation, interpreted by the Kabbalah, opened such treasures to the

ingenious believer?

So, too, we have ancient mystical theories of number which the

theological spirit had made Christian, usurping an enormous place in

medieval science. The sacred power of the number three was seen in the

Trinity; in the three main divisions of the universe--the empyrean, the

heavens, and the earth; in the three angelic hierarchies; in the three

choirs of seraphim, cherubim, and thrones; in the three of dominions,

virtues, and powers; in the three of principalities, archangels,

and angels; in the three orders in the Church--bishops, priests, and

deacons; in the three classes--the baptized, the communicants, and the

monks; in the three degrees of attainment--light, purity, and knowledge;

in the three theological virtues--faith, hope, and charity--and in much

else. All this was brought into a theologico-scientific relation,

then and afterward, with the three dimensions of space; with the three

divisions of time--past, present, and future; with the three realms of

the visible world--sky, earth, and sea; with the three constituents

of man--body, soul, and spirit; with the threefold enemies of

man--the world, the flesh, and the devil; with the three kingdoms in

nature--mineral, vegetable, and animal; with "the three colours"--red,

yellow, and blue; with "the three eyes of the honey-bee"--and with a

multitude of other analogues equally precious. The sacred power of the

number seven was seen in the seven golden candlesticks and the seven

churches in the Apocalypse; in the seven cardinal virtues and the seven

deadly sins; in the seven liberal arts and the seven devilish arts, and,

above all, in the seven sacraments. And as this proved in astrology that

there could be only seven planets, so it proved in alchemy that there

must be exactly seven metals. The twelve apostles were connected with

the twelve signs in the zodiac, and with much in physical science.

The seventy-two disciples, the seventy-two interpreters of the Old

Testament, the seventy-two mystical names of God, were connected with

the alleged fact in anatomy that there were seventy-two joints in the

human frame.

Then, also, there were revived such theologic and metaphysical

substitutes for scientific thought as the declaration that the perfect

line is a circle, and hence that the planets must move in absolute

circles--a statement which led astronomy astray even when the

great truths of the Copernican theory were well in sight; also, the

declaration that nature abhors a vacuum--a statement which led physics

astray until Torricelli made his experiments; also, the declaration that

we see the lightning before we hear the thunder because "sight is nobler

than hearing."

In chemistry we have the same theologic tendency to magic, and, as a

result, a muddle of science and theology, which from one point of view

seems blasphemous and from another idiotic, but which none the less

sterilized physical investigation for ages. That debased Platonism which

had been such an important factor in the evolution of Christian theology

from the earliest days of the Church continued its work. As everything

in inorganic nature was supposed to have spiritual significance, the

doctrines of the Trinity and Incarnation were turned into an argument

in behalf of the philosopher's stone; arguments for the scheme of

redemption and for transubstantiation suggested others of similar

construction to prove the transmutation of metals; the doctrine of the

resurrection of the human body was by similar mystic jugglery connected

with the processes of distillation and sublimation. Even after the

Middle Ages were past, strong men seemed unable to break away from such

reasoning as this--among them such leaders as Basil Valentine in the

fifteenth century, Agricola in the sixteenth, and Van Helmont in the

seventeenth.

The greatest theologians contributed to the welter of unreason from

which this pseudo-science was developed. One question largely discussed

was, whether at the Redemption it was necessary for God to take the

human form. Thomas Aquinas answered that it was necessary, but William

Occam and Duns Scotus answered that it was not; that God might have

taken the form of a stone, or of a log, or of a beast. The possibilities

opened to wild substitutes for science by this sort of reasoning were

infinite. Men have often asked how it was that the Arabians

accomplished so much in scientific discovery as compared with Christian

investigators; but the answer is easy: the Arabians were comparatively

free from these theologic allurements which in Christian Europe

flickered in the air on all sides, luring men into paths which led

no-whither.

Strong investigators, like Arnold of Villanova, Raymond Lully, Basil

Valentine, Paracelsus, and their compeers, were thus drawn far out

of the only paths which led to fruitful truths. In a work generally

ascribed to the first of these, the student is told that in mixing his

chemicals he must repeat the psalm Exsurge Domine, and that on certain

chemical vessels must be placed the last words of Jesus on the cross.

Vincent of Beauvais insisted that, as the Bible declares that Noah, when

five hundred years old, had children born to him, he must have possessed

alchemical means of preserving life; and much later Dickinson insisted

that the patriarchs generally must have owed their long lives to such

means. It was loudly declared that the reality of the philosopher's

stone was proved by the words of St. John in the Revelation. "To him

that overcometh I will give a white stone." The reasonableness of

seeking to develop gold out of the baser metals was for many generations

based upon the doctrine of the resurrection of the physical body, which,

though explicitly denied by St. Paul, had become a part of the creed

of the Church. Martin Luther was especially drawn to believe in the

alchemistic doctrine of transmutation by this analogy. The Bible was

everywhere used, both among Protestants and Catholics, in support of

these mystic adulterations of science, and one writer, as late as 1751,

based his alchemistic arguments on more than a hundred passages of

Scripture. As an example of this sort of reasoning, we have a proof that

the elect will preserve the philosopher's stone until the last judgment,

drawn from a passage in St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians, "We have

this treasure in earthen vessels."

The greatest thinkers devoted themselves to adding new ingredients to

this strange mixture of scientific and theologic thought. The Catholic

philosophy of Thomas Aquinas, the Protestant mysticism of Jacob Boehme,

and the alchemistic reveries of Basil Valentine were all cast into this

seething mass.

And when alchemy in its old form had been discredited, we find

scriptural arguments no less perverse, and even comical, used on the

other side. As an example of this, just before the great discoveries by

Stahl, we find the valuable scientific efforts of Becher opposed with

the following syllogism: "King Solomon, according to the Scriptures,

possessed the united wisdom of heaven and earth; but King Solomon knew

nothing about alchemy (or chemistry in the form it then took), and sent

his vessels to Ophir to seek gold, and levied taxes upon his subjects;

ergo alchemy (or chemistry) has no reality or truth." And we find that

Becher is absolutely turned away from his labours, and obliged to devote

himself to proving that Solomon used more money than he possibly could

have obtained from Ophir or his subjects, and therefore that he must

have possessed a knowledge of chemical methods and the philosopher's

stone as the result of them.(277)

(277) For an extract from Agrippa's Occulta Philosophia, giving examples

of the way in which mystical names were obtained from the Bible, see

Rydberg, Magic of the Middle Ages, pp. 143 et seq. For the germs of many

mystic beliefs regarding number and the like, which were incorporated

into mediaeval theology, see Zeller, Plato and the Older Academy,

English translation, pp. 254 and 572, and elsewhere. As to the

connection of spiritual things with inorganic nature in relation to

chemistry, see Eicken, p. 634. On the injury to science wrought by

Platonism acting through mediaeval theology, see Hoefer, Histoire de la

Chimie, vol. i, p. 90. As to the influence of mysticism upon strong men

in science, see Hoefer; also Kopp, Geschichte der Alchemie, vol. i, p.

211. For a very curious Catholic treatise on sacred numbers, see the

Abbe Auber, Symbolisme Religieux, Paris, 1870; also Detzel, Christliche

Ikonographie, pp. 44 et seq.; and for an equally important Protestant

work, see Samuell, Seven the Sacred number, London 1887. It is

interesting to note that the latter writer, having been forced to give

up the seven planets, consoles himself with the statement that "the

earth is the seventh planet, counting from Neptune and calling the

asteroids one" (see p. 426). For the electrum magicum, the seven

metals composing it, and its wonderful qualities, see extracts from

Paracelsus's writings in Hartmann's Life of Paracelsus, London, 1887,

pp. 168 et seq. As to the more rapid transition of light than sound, the

following expresses the scholastic method well: "What is the cause why

we see sooner the lightning than we heare the thunder clappe? That is

because our sight is both nobler and sooner perceptive of its object

than our eare; as being the more active part, and priore to our hearing:

besides, the visible species are more subtile and less corporeal than

the audible species."--Person's Varieties, Meteors, p. 82. For Basil

Valentine's view, see Hoefer, vol. i, pp. 453-465; Schmieder, Geschichte

der Alchemie, pp. 197-209; Allgemeine deutsche Biographies, article

Basilius. For the discussions referred to on possibilities of God

assuming forms of stone, or log, or beast, see Lippert, Christenthum,

Volksglaube, und Volksbrauch, pp. 372, 373, where citations are given,

etc. For the syllogism regarding Solomon, see Figuier, L'Alchimie et les

Alchimistes, pp. 106, 107. For careful appreciation of Becher's position

in the history of chemistry, see Kopp, Ansichten uber die Aufgabe der

Chemie, etc., von Geber bis Stahl, Braunschweig, 1875, pp. 201 et seq.

For the text proving the existence of the philosopher's stone from the

book of Revelation, see Figuier, p. 22.

Of the general reasoning enforced by theology regarding physical

science, every age has shown examples; yet out of them all I will select

but two, and these are given because they show how this mixture

of theological with scientific ideas took hold upon the strongest

supporters of better reasoning even after the power of medieval theology

seemed broken.

The first of these examples is Melanchthon. He was the scholar of the

Reformation, and justly won the title "Preceptor of Germany." His mind

was singularly open, his sympathies broad, and his usual freedom from

bigotry drew down upon him that wrath of Protestant heresy-hunters

which embittered the last years of his life and tortured him upon his

deathbed. During his career at the University of Wittenberg he gave a

course of lectures on physics, and in these he dwelt upon scriptural

texts as affording scientific proofs, accepted the interference of the

devil in physical phenomena as in other things, and applied the medieval

method throughout his whole work.(278)

(278) For Melanchthon's ideas on physics, see his Initia Doctrinae

Physicae, Wittenberg, 1557, especially pp. 243 and 274; also in vol.

xiii of Bretschneider's edition of the collected works, and especially

pp. 339-343.

Yet far more remarkable was the example, a century later, of the man who

more than any other led the world out of the path opened by Aquinas,

and into that through which modern thought has advanced to its greatest

conquests. Strange as it may at first seem, Francis Bacon, whose

keenness of sight revealed the delusions of the old path and the

promises of the new, and whose boldness did so much to turn the world

from the old path into the new, presents in his own writings one of the

most striking examples of the evil he did so much to destroy.

The Novum Organon, considering the time when it came from his pen, is

doubtless one of the greatest exhibitions of genius in the history of

human thought. It showed the modern world the way out of the scholastic

method and reverence for dogma into the experimental method and

reverence for fact. In it occur many passages which show that the

great philosopher was fully alive to the danger both to religion and to

science arising from their mixture. He declares that the "corruption of

philosophy from superstition and theology introduced the greatest amount

of evil both into whole systems of philosophy and into their parts." He

denounces those who "have endeavoured to found a natural philosophy on

the books of Genesis and Job and other sacred Scriptures, so 'seeking

the dead among the living.'" He speaks of the result as "an unwholesome

mixture of things human and divine; not merely fantastic philosophy, but

heretical religion."

He refers to the opposition of the fathers to the doctrine of the

rotundity of the earth, and says that, "thanks to some of them, you may

find the approach to any kind of philosophy, however improved, entirely

closed up." He charges that some of these divines are "afraid lest

perhaps a deeper inquiry into nature should, penetrate beyond the

allowed limits of sobriety"; and finally speaks of theologians as

sometimes craftily conjecturing that, if science be little understood,

"each single thing can be referred more easily to the hand and rod of

God," and says, "THIS IS NOTHING MORE OR LESS THAN WISHING TO PLEASE GOD

BY A LIE."

No man who has reflected much upon the annals of his race can, without a

feeling of awe, come into the presence of such clearness of insight and

boldness of utterance, and the first thought of the reader is that, of

all men, Francis Bacon is the most free from the unfortunate bias he

condemns; that he, certainly, can not be deluded into the old path.

But as we go on through his main work we are surprised to find that the

strong arm of Aquinas has been stretched over the intervening ages, and

has laid hold upon this master-thinker of the seventeenth century; for

only a few chapters beyond those containing the citations already made

we find Bacon alluding to the recent voyage of Columbus, and speaking of

the prophecy of Daniel regarding the latter days, that "many shall

run to and fro, and knowledge be increased," as clearly signifying

"that... the circumnavigation of the world and the increase of science

should happen in the same age."(279)

(279) See the Novum Organon, translated by the Rev. G. W. Kitchin,

Oxford, 1855, chaps. lxv and lxxxix.

In his great work on the Advancement of Learning the firm grasp which

the methods he condemned held upon him is shown yet more clearly. In the

first book of it he asserts that "that excellent book of Job, if it

be revolved with diligence, will be found pregnant and swelling with

natural philosophy," and he endeavours to show that in it the "roundness

of the earth," the "fixing of the stars, ever standing at equal

distances," the "depression of the southern pole," the "matter of

generation," and "matter of minerals" are "with great elegancy noted."

But, curiously enough, he uses to support some of these truths the very

texts which the fathers of the Church used to destroy them, and those

for which he finds Scripture warrant most clearly are such as science

has since disproved. So, too, he says that Solomon was enabled in his

Proverbs, "by donation of God, to compile a natural history of all

verdure."(280)

(280) See Bacon, Advancement of Learning, edited by W. Aldis Wright,

London, 1873, pp. 47, 48. Certainly no more striking examples of the

strength of the evil which he had all along been denouncing could be

exhibited that these in his own writings. Nothing better illustrates the

sway of the mediaeval theology, or better explains his blindness to the

discoveries of Copernicus and to the experiments of Gilbert. For a

very contemptuous statement of Lord Bacon's claim to his position as

a philosopher, see Lange, Geschichte des Materialismus, Leipsic, 1872,

vol i, p. 219. For a more just statement, see Brewster, Life of Sir

Isaac Newton, London, 1874, vol. ii, p. 298.

Such was the struggle of the physical sciences in general. Let us now

look briefly at one special example out of many, which reveals, as well

as any, one of the main theories which prompted theological interference

with them.

It will doubtless seem amazing to many that for ages the weight of

theological thought in Christendom was thrown against the idea of the

suffocating properties of certain gases, and especially of carbonic

acid. Although in antiquity we see men forming a right theory of gases

in mines, we find that, early in the history of the Church, St. Clement

of Alexandria put forth the theory that these gases are manifestations

of diabolic action, and that, throughout Christendom, suffocation in

caverns, wells, and cellars was attributed to the direct action of evil

spirits. Evidences of this view abound through the medieval period, and

during the Reformation period a great authority, Agricola, one of the

most earnest and truthful of investigators, still adhered to the

belief that these gases in mines were manifestations of devils, and he

specified two classes--one of malignant imps, who blow out the miners'

lamps, and the other of friendly imps, who simply tease the workmen in

various ways. He went so far as to say that one of these spirits in the

Saxon mine of Annaberg destroyed twelve workmen at once by the power of

his breath.

At the end of the sixteenth century we find a writer on mineralogy

complaining that the mines in France and Germany had been in large part

abandoned on account of the "evil spirits of metals which had taken

possession of them."

Even as late as the seventeenth century, Van Helmont, after he

had broken away from alchemy and opened one of the great paths to

chemistry--even after he had announced to the world the existence of

various gases and the mode of their generation--was not strong enough to

free himself from theologic bias; he still inclined to believe that the

gases he had discovered, were in some sense living spirits, beneficent

or diabolical.

But at various. periods glimpses of the truth had been gained. The

ancient view had not been entirely forgotten; and as far back as the

first part of the thirteenth century Albert the Great suggested a

natural cause in the possibility of exhalations from minerals causing a

"corruption of the air"; but he, as we have seen, was driven or

dragged off into, theological studies, and the world relapsed into the

theological view.

Toward the end of the fifteenth century there had come a great genius

laden with important truths in chemistry, but for whom the world was

not ready--Basil Valentine. His discoveries anticipated much that has

brought fame and fortune to chemists since, yet so fearful of danger was

he that his work was carefully concealed. Not until after his death was

his treatise on alchemy found, and even then it was for a long time not

known where and when he lived. The papal bull, Spondent pariter, and the

various prohibitions it bred, forcing other alchemists to conceal their

laboratories, led him to let himself be known during his life at Erfurt

simply as an apothecary, and to wait until after his death to make a

revelation of truth which during his lifetime might have cost him dear.

Among the legacies of this greatest of the alchemists was the doctrine

that the air which asphyxiates workers in mines is similar to that which

is produced by fermentation of malt, and a recommendation that, in

order to drive away the evil and to prevent serious accidents, fires

be lighted and jets of steam used to ventilate the mines--stress being

especially laid upon the idea that the danger in the mines is produced

by "exhalations of metals."

Thanks to men like Valentine, this idea of the interference of Satan

and his minions with the mining industry was gradually weakened, and the

working of the deserted mines was resumed; yet even at a comparatively

recent period we find it still lingering, and among leading divines in

the very heart of Protestant Germany. In 1715 a cellar-digger having

been stifled at Jena, the medical faculty of the university decided

that the cause was not the direct action of the devil, but a deadly gas.

Thereupon Prof. Loescher, of the University of Wittenberg, entered a

solemn protest, declaring that the decision of the medical faculty was

"only a proof of the lamentable license which has so taken possession of

us, and which, if we are not earnestly on our guard, will finally turn

away from us the blessing of God."(281) But denunciations of this kind

could not hold back the little army of science; in spite of adverse

influences, the evolution of physics and chemistry went on. More and

more there rose men bold enough to break away from theological methods

and strong enough to resist ecclesiastical bribes and threats. As

alchemy in its first form, seeking for the philosopher's stone and the

transmutation of metals, had given way to alchemy in its second form,

seeking for the elixir of life and remedies more or less magical for

disease, so now the latter yielded to the search for truth as truth.

More and more the "solemnly constituted impostors" were resisted

in every field. A great line of physicists and chemists began to

appear.(282)

(281) For Loescher's protest, see Julian Schmidt, Geschichte des

geistigen Lebens, etc., vol. i, p. 319.

(282) For the general view of noxious gases as imps of Satan, see

Hoefer, Histoire de la Chimie, vol. i, p. 350; vol. ii, p. 48. For the

work of Black, Priestley, Bergmann, and others, see main authorities

already cited, and especially the admirable paper of Dr. R. G. Eccles on

The Evolution of Chemistry, New York, D. Appleton & Co., 1891. For the

treatment of Priesley, see Spence's Essays, London, 1892; also Rutt,

Life and Correspondence of Priestley, vol. ii, pp. 115 et seq.

II.

Just at the middle of the seventeenth century, and at the very centre

of opposition to physical science, Robert Boyle began the new epoch

in chemistry. Strongly influenced by the writings of Bacon and the

discoveries of Galileo, he devoted himself to scientific research,

establishing at Oxford a laboratory and putting into it a chemist from

Strasburg. For this he was at once bitterly attacked. In spite of his

high position, his blameless life, his liberal gifts to charity and

learning, the Oxford pulpit was especially severe against him, declaring

that his researches were destroying religion and his experiments

undermining the university. Public orators denounced him, the wits

ridiculed him, and his associates in the peerage were indignant that

he should condescend to pursuits so unworthy. But Boyle pressed on. His

discoveries opened new paths in various directions and gave an impulse

to a succession of vigorous investigators. Thus began the long series of

discoveries culminating those of Black, Bergmann, Cavendish, Priestley,

and Lavoisier, who ushered in the chemical science of the nineteenth

century.

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