THE MAGNES OR LOADSTONE'S CHALLENGE.
Give place ye glittering sparks,
ye glimmering Diamonds bright,
Ye Rubies red, and Saphires brave
wherein ye most delight.
In breefe, yee stones inricht,
and burnisht all with golde,
Set forth in Lapidaries shops,
for Jewells to be sold.
Give place, give place I say,
your beautie, gleame and glee,
Is all the vertue for the which,
accepted so you bee.
Magnes, the Loadstone I,
your painted sheath defie,
Without my help in Indian seas,
the best of you might lie.
I guide the Pilot's course,
his helping hand I am,
The Mariner delights in me,
so doth the Marchant man.
My vertue lies unknowne,
my secrets hidden are,
By me, the Court and Commonweale,
are pleasured very farre.
No ship could sail on Seas,
her course to run aright,
Nor Compass shew the ready way
were Magnes not of might.
Blush then, and blemish all,
bequeath to mee thats due, Your seats in golde, your price in plate, which Jewellers do renue.
Its I, its I alone,
whom you usurp upon,
Magnes my name, the Loadstone cal'd,
the prince of stones alone.
If this you can deny,
then seem to make reply,
And let the painfull sea-man judge,
the which of us doth lie.
The Mariner's Judgement.
The Loadstone is the stone,
the onely stone alone,
Deserving praise above the rest
whose vertues are unknown.
The Marchant's Verdict.
The Diamonds bright, the Saphires brave,
Are stones that bear the name,
but flatter not, and tell the troath,
Magnes deserves the same.
(Edition of 1720.)
Norman's Newe Attractive was well known to Gilbert, as were also the Epistola of Peregrinus, the Magiae Naturalis of Porta, and indeed all books treating of the lodestone, the magnet, or the compass-needle. His own work De Magnete, published in the year 1600, is a compendium of the world's knowledge of magnetism and electricity at the time. In its pages, he not only discusses the opinions of others, but describes discoveries of his own made during the twenty years which he ardently devoted to the pursuit of experimental science, crowning his investigations with theories in electricity and magnetism as became a true philosopher.
Impressed by the originality of Gilbert's treatise, the practical ingenuity and philosophic acumen displayed throughout, Hallam wrote in his Introduction to the Literature of Europe: "Gilbert not only collected all the knowledge which others had possessed on the subject, but became at once the father of experimental philosophy in this island; and, by a singular felicity and acuteness of genius, the founder of theories which have been received after the lapse of ages and are almost universally received into the creed of science."
At a period when natural science was taught in the schools of Europe mainly from text-books, we find Gilbert proclaiming by example and advocacy the paramount value of experiment for the advancement of learning. He was unsparing in his denunciation of the superficiality and verbosity of mere bookmen, and had no patience with writers who treated their subjects "esoterically, reconditely and mystically." For him, the laboratory method was the only one that could secure fruitful results and contribute effectively to the advancement of learning.
It is true that men of unusual ability and strong character strove before his time to adjust the claims of authority in matters scientific. While respectful of the teachings of recognized leaders, they were not, however, awed into acquiescence by an academical "magister dixit." On the contrary, they wanted to test with their eyes in order to judge with reason; believing in the importance of experiment, they sought to acquire a knowledge of nature from nature herself.
Such were Albert the Great and Friar Bacon. Albert did not bow obsequiously to the authority of Aristotle or any of his Arabian commentators; he investigated for himself and became, for his age, a distinguished botanist, physiologist and mineralogist.
The Franciscan monk of Ilchester has left us in his Opus Majus a lasting memorial of his practical genius. In the section entitled "Scientia Experimentalis," he affirms that "Without experiment, nothing can be adequately known. An argument proves theoretically, but does not give the certitude necessary to remove all doubt, nor will the mind repose in the clear view of truth, unless it find it by way of experiment." And in his Opus Tertium: "The strongest arguments prove nothing, so long as the conclusions are not verified by experience. Experimental science is the queen of sciences and the goal of all speculation."
No one, even in our own times, wrote more strongly in favor of the practical method than did this follower of St. Francis in the thirteenth century. Being convinced that there can be no conflict between scientific and revealed truths, he became an irrepressible advocate for observation and experiment in the study of the phenomena and forces of nature.
The example of Peregrinus, of Albert and Friar Bacon, not to mention others like Vincent of Beauvais, the Dominican encyclopedist, was, however, not sufficient to wean students from the easy-going routine of book-learning. A few centuries had to elapse before the weaning was effectively begun; and the man who contributed in a marked degree to this result was Gilbert the Philosopher of Colchester (1544–1603).
Having received the elements of his education in the Grammar School of Colchester, his native town, Gilbert entered St. John's College, Cambridge, from which university he took his B. A. degree in 1560, M. A. in 1564 and M. D. in 1569. In all, he appears to have been connected with the University for a period of eleven or twelve years, as student, Fellow, and examiner.
On leaving Cambridge, Gilbert traveled for four years on the Continent, principally in Italy, visiting medical schools and studying methods of treatment under the leading physicians and surgeons of the day as well as discussing scientific theory with the leaders of thought. On his return to England in 1573, he practised medicine in London "with great applause and success." He was elected President of the Royal College of Physicians in 1599, and appointed Physician to Queen Elizabeth in 1601 and to her successor, James I., in 1603.
On one occasion, he hears that Baptista Porta, whom he calls "a philosopher of no ordinary note," said that a piece of iron rubbed with a diamond turns to the north. He suspects this to be heresy. So, forthwith he proceeds to test the statement by experiment. He was not dazzled by the reputation of Baptista Porta; he respected Porta, but respected