o'clock, "where, amongst other matters I that
were discoursed of, something was offered about
a design of founding a college for the
promoting of physico-mathematical experimental
learning."

"There arose at this time," as Dr. Whewell
observes, "a group of philosophers, who began
to knock at the door where truth was to be
found, although it was left for Newton to force
it open." These earnest and honest men were
the actual founders of the Royal Society, and
among the foremost of them stands the Reverend
Dr. Wilkins.

It was while thus occupied that our
philosopher received the appointment of preacher
at Gray's Inn. His affairs and finances being
thereby improved, and his position in London
established, he presided on the 28th November,
1660, over a remarkable meeting, at which it
was finally decided to form a society for the
pursuit of natural knowledge. This society having
shortly afterwards been mentioned to the king,
his approval and encouragement were obtained,
and, being announced on the following 5th
December, the Royal Society may be said to have
been that time established.

The chairman of a meeting at which so
remarkable a body received life must ever be
regarded as a personage in English science. But
he was also a remarkable man in himself, for in
spite of his puritanical opinions and his
intermarriage with the family of the arch-rebel, he
contrived to put himself on good terms both with
the political and ecclesiastical authorities after
the Restoration. Thus, in 1662, when the first
charter of the Royal Society was granted by
King Charles the Second, we find among those
mentioned as members of the first "and modern"
council of twenty-one, to whom was devolved
the important duty of selecting the first fellows
of the society, Robert Boyle, Kenelm Digby,
William Petty, Christopher Wren, and others,
with "John Wilkins, Doctor of Divinity," as
worthy associates for so worthy a purpose, the
object of the society being "to confer about the
hidden causes of things, with a design to
establish certain and correct uncertain theories in
philosophy, and by their labours in the disquisition
of nature to prove themselves real
benefactors to mankind."

In the year preceding that in which the
charter was granted to the Royal Society, Dr.
Wilkins had been presented to a living in the
City in the gift of the crown, and soon afterwards
he was promoted to the deanery of Ripon.
In 1668 he was appointed to the bishopric of
Chester, and, we are told by his biographer,
that in the exercise of his important functions
in the latter part of his career (which terminated
in 1672) "he filled his episcopal office with a
goodness answerable to the rest of his life, but
with a prudence above it considering the two
extremes of popery and fanaticism, which were
nowhere then so much as in his diocese."

Turning now to consider the scientific dreams
and discoveries of Dr. Wilkins, we begin with a
work published in 1638, entitled A Discovery
of a New World; or, a Discourse tending to
prove that it is probable there may be another
Habitable World in the Moon: with a Discourse
concerning the Possibility of a Passage thither.
This idea of the moon being inhabited was not
then new, and has not quite passed out of date.
While at one time we are told that the
absence of atmosphere and water would render life
on it impossible, at another time astronomers
suggest the possibility of vapour and atmosphere
different, perhaps, from that to which we are accustomed,
but by no means incapable of supporting a
mooncalf. As to the passage thither, indeed, no
practicable means have ever been suggested, for
although the author of the tract before us
believes that the earth's attraction, supposed by
him to be a kind of magnetism, might be overcome
in various ways mechanically, more
complete knowledge of the nature of the force of
gravitation has added greatly to the improbability
that we can ever move ourselves beyond its local
influence. This, therefore, is a prophecy
unaccomplished, and is likely to remain so.

A year or two after the publication of the
essay just referred to, Wilkins published a
treatise entitled Mercury; or, the Swift and
Sure Messenger: showing how a Man may,
with Privacy and Speed, communicate his
Thoughts to a Friend at any Distance.
Concerning this book the following doggrel lines of
a certain Richard West, who edited a second
edition some years afterwards, will serve to give
a general notion. He tells us that not only
are we there to learn the way of attaining
perfect secrecy in communication, but

Our thoughts will now arrive before they're stale:
They shall no more wait on carrier's ale
And hostess—two land remoraes, which bind
All to a tortoise-pace though words be wind.
This book's a better ark: we brook no stay,
Maugre the deepest flood or foulest way.

Afterwards addressing the author, the editor,
rising into a higher poetic vein, exclaims:

Then your diviner hieroglyphicks tell,
How we may landskips read and pictures spell.
You teach how clouds inform, how smoaks advise;
Then saints will incense talk to deities.

           *             *             *             *             *

'Tis not like juggler's tricks, absurd when shown,
But more and more admired the more 'tis known.
Writing's an act of emanation,
And thoughts speed quick and far as day doth run.

Doggrel indeed! Marvellous revelations
would be expected from such an announcement;
and, although the first glance at the
book suggests a notion that the secrets thus
trumpeted are somewhat shabby and lean,
there are some exceedingly singular suggestions
mixed up with odd and apparently unmeaning
matter. The art of secret information generally
is defined and set forth in great minuteness of
detail, and with a distinct Greek and Latin
nomenclature worthy of a new science. It
includes three branches: the first of which is
a kind of arranged nonsense-talk made up of
broken words, and corresponds well with the