To the learned and illustrious the President and Fellows of the College of Physicians of London.
Harassed with anxious, and in the end not much availing cares, about Christmas last,[120] I sought to rid my spirit of the cloud that oppressed it, by a visit to that great man, the chief honour and ornament of our College, Dr. WILLIAM HARVEY, then dwelling not far from the city. I found him, Democritus like, busy with the study of natural things, his countenance cheerful, his mind serene, embracing all within its sphere. I forthwith saluted him, and asked if all were well with him? “How can it,” said he, “whilst the Commonwealth is full of distractions, and I myself am still in the open sea? And truly,” he continued, “did I not find solace in my studies, and a balm for my spirit in the memory of my observations of former years, I should feel little desire for longer life. But so it has been, that this life of obscurity, this vacation from public business, which causes tedium and disgust to so many, has proved a sovereign remedy to me.”
I answering said, “I can readily account for this: whilst most men are learned through others’ wits, and under cover of a different diction and a new arrangement, vaunt themselves on things that belong to the ancients, thou ever interrogatest Nature herself concerning her mysteries. And this line of study as it is less likely to lead into error, so is it also more fertile in enjoyment, inasmuch as each particular point examined often leads to others which had not before been surmised. You yourself, I well remember, informed me once that you had never dissected any animal--and many and many a one have you examined,--but that you discovered something unexpected, something of which you were formerly uninformed.”
“It is true,” said he: “the examination of the bodies of animals has always been my delight; and I have thought that we might thence not only obtain an insight into the lighter mysteries of nature, but there perceive a kind of image or reflex of the omnipotent Creator himself. And though much has already been made out by the learned men of former times, I have still thought that much more remained behind, hidden by the dusky night of nature, uninterrogated; so that I have oftentimes wondered and even laughed at those who have fancied that everything had been so consummately and absolutely investigated by an Aristotle or a Galen, or some other mighty name, that nothing could by possibility be added to their knowledge. Nature, however, is the best and most faithful interpreter of her own secrets; and what she presents either more briefly or obscurely in one department, that she explains more fully and clearly in another. No one indeed has ever rightly ascertained the use or function of a part who has not examined its structure, situation, connexions by means of vessels, and other accidents, in various animals, and carefully weighed and considered all he has seen. The ancients, our authorities in science, even as their knowledge of geography was limited by the boundaries of Greece, so neither did their knowledge of animals, vegetables, and other natural objects extend beyond the confines of their country. But to us the whole earth lies open, and the zeal of our travellers has made us familiar not only with other countries and the manners and customs of their inhabitants, but also with the animals, vegetables, and minerals that are met with in each. And truly there is no nation so barbarous which has not discovered something for the general good, whether led to it by accident or compelled by necessity, which had been overlooked by more civilized communities. But shall we imagine that nothing can accrue to the wide domains of science from such advantages, or that all knowledge was exhausted by the first ages of the world? If we do, the blame very certainly attaches to our indolence, nowise to nature.
“To this there is another evil added: many persons, wholly without experience, from the presumed verisimilitude of a previous opinion, are often led by and by to speak of it boldly, as a matter that is certainly known; whence it comes, that not only are they themselves deceived, but that they likewise lead other incautious persons into error.”
Discoursing in this manner, and touching upon many topics besides with wonderful fluency and facility, as is his custom, I interposed by observing, “How free you yourself are from the fault you indicate all know who are acquainted with you; and this is the reason wherefore the learned world, who are aware of your unwearied industry in the study of philosophy, are eagerly looking for your farther experiments.”
“And would you be the man,” said Harvey, smiling, “who should recommend me to quit the peaceful haven, where I now pass my life, and launch again upon the faithless sea? You know full well what a storm my former lucubrations raised. Much better is it oftentimes to grow wise at home and in private, than by publishing what you have amassed with infinite labour, to stir up tempests that may rob you of peace and quiet for the rest of your days.”
“True,” said I; “it is the usual reward of virtue to have received ill for having merited well. But the winds which raised those storms, like the north-western blast, which drowns itself in its own rain, have only drawn mischief on themselves.”
Upon this he showed me his ‘Exercises on the Generation of Animals,’ a work composed with vast labour and singular care; and having it in my hands, I exclaimed, “Now have I what I so much desired! and unless you consent to make this work public, I must say that you will be wanting both to your own fame and to the public usefulness. Nor let any fear of farther trouble in the matter induce you to withhold it longer: I gladly charge myself with the whole business of correcting the press.”
Making many difficulties at first, urging, among other things, that his work must be held imperfect, as not containing his investigations on the generation of insects, I nevertheless prevailed at length, and he said to me, “I intrust these papers to your care with full authority either speedily to commit them to the press, or to suppress them till some future time.” Having returned him many thanks, I bade him adieu, and took my leave, feeling like another Jason laden with the golden fleece. On returning home I forthwith proceeded to examine my prize in all its parts, and could not but wonder with myself that such a treasure should have lain so long concealed; and that whilst others produce their trifles and emptinesses with much ado, their messes twice, aye, an hundred times, heated up, our Harvey should set so little store by his admirable observations. And indeed, so often as he has sent forth any of his discoveries to the world, he has not comported himself like those who, when they publish, would have us believe that an oak had spoken, and that they had merited the rarest honours,--a draught of hen’s milk at the least. Our Harvey rather seems as though discovery were natural to him, a thing of ease and of course, a matter of ordinary business; though he may nevertheless have expended infinite labour and study on his works. And we have evidence of his singular candour in this, that he never hostilely attacks any previous writer, but ever courteously sets down and comments upon the opinions of each; and indeed he is wont to say, that it is argument of an indifferent cause when it is contended for with violence and distemper; and that truth scarce wants an advocate.
It would have been easy for our illustrious colleague to have woven the whole of this web from materials of his own; but to escape the charge of envy, he has rather chosen to take Aristotle and Fabricius of Aquapendente as his guides, and to appear as contributing but his portion to the general fabric. Of him, whose virtue, candour, and genius are so well known to you all, I shall say no more, lest I should seem to praise to his face one whose singular worth has exalted him beyond the reach of all praise. Of myself I shall only say, that I have done no more than perform the midwife’s office in this business, ushering into the light this product of our colleague’s genius as you see it, consummate and complete, but long delayed, and fearing perchance some envious blast: in other words, I have overlooked the press; and as our author writes a hand which no one without practice can easily read (a thing that is common among our men of letters), I have taken some pains to prevent the printer committing any very grave blunders through this--a point which I observe not to have been sufficiently attended to in the small work of his which lately appeared.[121]
Here then, my learned friends, you have the cause of my addressing you at this time, viz. that you may know that our Harvey presents an offering to the benefit of the republic of letters, to your honour, to his own eternal fame.
Farewell, and prosper.
GEORGE ENT.