Heroes of science

by P. Martin Duncan

But the first man who made a real advance, and whose work has influenced the study of plant life down to the present day, was an Englishman, who was bred in comparative poverty, suffered persecution, and lived a beautiful life.

The name of this distinguished man was John Ray, and he was the son of Roger Ray and Elizabeth his wife, being born in 1628. His father was a blacksmith, of Black Notley, near Braintree, in Essex, and the boy was sent to school at the Grammar School at Braintree. There he found the kindness of Mr. Love, the master, in teaching him, a set-off against the general want of education in the establishment; and he had reason to be thankful, for before he was sixteen years of age he was sent, from the school, to Cambridge. He entered at St. Catherine’s Hall, under the tutorship of Mr. Duckfield. But the youth did not like the Hall; he wished to study, and the inmates, he said, chiefly addicted themselves to disputations; so he went to Trinity, where he found the politer arts and sciences were principally minded and cultivated. Ray worked hard, and had an excellent tutor, who was a great Greek scholar, and soon made up for the defective teaching he had had at Braintree. He acquired much Latin and Greek, and some Hebrew, and it soon became evident that the youth could speak well and fluently. His leisure was that of a student; he loved to observe nature, to study the little gems of the garden and country, and all these things brought him speedily before the notice of the authorities of the College. When he had been there three years, he was elected a Minor Fellow, together with his great friend Isaac Barrow, who had been a Charterhouse boy, and subsequently a scholar at Felsted, an Essex school. They were the favourite pupils of their master. Ray took his degree of Bachelor of Arts, and then that of Master of Arts, becoming then a Major Fellow. In 1651 he was chosen the Greek Lecturer to the College; two years afterwards Mathematical Lecturer, and in 1655 Humanity Reader. Then he was made Junior Dean and College Steward, and he became the tutor to many men of subsequent worth, especially to Mr. Francis Willughby, of Middleton Hall, in Warwickshire. During these years Ray wandered over the country collecting and studying plants. He wrote the story of his journeys in and about England, calling them “Itineraries.” His first journey was in 1658, and he rode from Cambridge to Northampton; he passed by Higham Ferrers and saw the outside of a great stone building called a college, and he wrote that Northampton was indifferently handsome, the houses being built of timber, notwithstanding the plenty of stone dug in that county. He saw in a Mr. Bowker’s garden “divers physical plants,” and he noticed the luxuriance of the lupinus there. Then he went to Warwick by Daventry, and saw Holdenby House. At Shuckborough he did not see the star-stones he had heard of. He visited Warwick, but cared more for Guy’s Cliff than for the rib of the dun cow and Guy’s sword; and then he went into Derbyshire, and investigated the Pool’s-hole, near Buxton, and noticed the wild flowers of the hills. Travelling on to North Wales, he visited the brine-pits of Northwych, and at Chester he noticed the red stone of the cathedral, which he considered had little beauty within or without. He visited Swindon, and got home by Shrewsbury and Gloucester. This was a journey done in the old-fashioned manner, on horseback. It opened Ray’s eyes to the immense amount of nonsense that was talked about nature, and especially about any unusual natural phenomenon. He seems especially to have visited the wells and springs, and he expressed his doubts of the wonderful cures, attributing his want of belief to his scientific frame of mind.

At this period, it was usual for young men of ability and learning, though not in orders, to deliver sermons and common-place readings, as they were called, not only in the chapels or halls of their own colleges, but even before the University body at St. Mary’s church. In these Ray eminently distinguished himself. He was among the first who ventured to lead the attention of his hearers from the unprofitable subtleties of scholastic divinity and the trammels of the old Greek philosophy to an observation of nature and a practical investigation of truth. The rudiments of many of his subsequent writings originated in these juvenile essays, particularly his celebrated book on the “Wisdom of God manifested in the Works of the Creation,” known all over the world by its numerous editions and translations, and universally admired for its rational piety, sound philosophy, and solid instruction. This book is the basis of the labours of all those divines who have made the book of nature a commentary on the book of revelation, a confirmation of truths which nature has not authority of herself to establish. In it the author inculcates the doctrine of a constantly superintending Providence, as well as the advantage, and even the duty, of contemplating the works of God. “This,” he says, “is part of the business of a Sabbath-day, as it will be, probably, of our employment through that eternal rest of which the Sabbath is a type.” Archbishop Tenison is recorded to have told Dr. Derham that “Mr. Ray was much celebrated in his time at Cambridge for preaching solid and useful divinity, instead of that enthusiastic stuff which the sermons of that time were generally filled with.” It would be refreshing to hear a Ray in the nineteenth century. Two of his funeral discourses are mentioned with particular approbation; one, on the death of Dr. Arrowsmith, master of his college; the other, on that of one of his most intimate and beloved colleagues, Mr. John Nid, likewise a Senior Fellow of Trinity, who had a great share in Ray’s first botanical publication, the “Catalogus Plantarum circa Cantabrigiam nascentium,” printed in 1660 (a catalogue of plants growing around Cambridge). Before this little volume appeared, its author had visited various parts of England and Wales for the purpose of investigating their native plants, as he did several times afterwards. Nor were his observations confined to natural history, but extended to local and general history, antiquities, the arts, and all kinds of useful knowledge. Ray’s first botanical tour occupied nearly six weeks, from August 9th to September 18th, 1658. On the 23rd of December, 1660, he was ordained both deacon and priest at the same time by Dr. Sanderson, then Bishop of Lincoln. In 1661 he travelled with Mr. Willughby into Scotland, returning by Cumberland and Westmoreland; and the following year, with the same companion, he accomplished a more particular investigation of Wales. How critically he studied the botany of the countries he visited, is evident from the different editions of his works called “A Catalogue of British Plants,” and “A Methodical Synopsis of British Wild Plants.” In fact, Ray felt the necessity of being able to recognize plants by their accurate descriptions, and saw that classification was the alphabet of the science.

All this time Mr. Ray continued to enjoy his fellowship and to cultivate his Cambridge connections; but in September, 1662, his tranquillity was disturbed by the too famous Bartholomew Act, by which two thousand conscientious divines were turned out of their livings, and many fellows of colleges deprived of their maintenance and means of literary improvement. Among the latter was the subject of our memoir, with thirteen honest men at Cambridge besides, of whose names he has left us a list. One of them, Dr. Dillingham, was master of Emanuel College; but Ray was the only person of his own college who suffered this deprivation. One of Ray’s biographers writes:—“The reader must not suppose that he, or perhaps any other person in this illustrious catalogue, was in the least degree deficient in attachment to the doctrine or discipline of the Church of England, or that they had taken the oath, called the Solemn League and Covenant, which Ray certainly had neither taken nor even approved. They were required to swear to the infamous proposition that the said oath was not binding to those who had taken it, and on this ground they conscientiously gave up their preferment.” It is curious to read the apology made for Ray, to Dr. Derham on this subject, by a Mr. Brokesby, “that he was at that time absent from his college, where he might have met with satisfaction to his scruples, and was among some zealous nonconformists who too much influenced him by the addition of new scruples. And we may also ascribe somewhat to the prejudice of education in unhappy times.” By this it appears that the “scruples” of nonconformists were most favourable to the sanctity of an oath, and that the “unhappy times” alluded to were more advantageous to principle than the golden days of Charles II., whose ministers doubtless valued the obedience far more than the honesty of any man; nor was this taste by any means peculiar to them or their profligate master.

Mr. Ray (or, as he wrote his name for a while about this period, Wray), having thus the world before him, made an arrangement with Mr. Willughby for a tour on the Continent; and in this plan two of his pupils were included, Mr. Nathaniel Bacon and Mr., afterwards Sir Philip, Skippon. They sailed for Calais in April, 1663, but being prevented by the state of political affairs from prosecuting their journey through France, they traversed the Low Countries and Germany, proceeding by Venice into Italy, most of whose cities they visited, either by sea or land, as well as Malta and Sicily; and returned by Switzerland, through France, into England in the spring of 1666.

Mr. Willughby, indeed, separated from the rest of the party at Montpellier, and visited Spain. An ample account of their observations was published by Ray in 1673, making a thick octavo volume. The travellers studied politics, literature, natural history, mechanics, and philosophy, as well as antiquities and other curiosities; but in the fine arts they assume no authority, nor display any considerable taste or knowledge. Mr. Willughby’s account of Spain makes a part by itself, and a rich critical catalogue of such plants, not, for the most part, natives of England, as were observed in this tour, concludes the volume. There is no doubt that Ray has the credit of having discovered several species of plants in Switzerland not previously known to belong to that country. Ray passed the summer of 1666 partly at Black Notley, and partly in Sussex, studying chiefly the works of Hook, Boyle, Sydenham, on fevers, and the “Philosophical Transactions,” “making few discoveries,” says he, “save of mine own errors.” The following winter he was employed at Mr. Willughby’s, in arranging that gentleman’s museum of seeds, dried plants, birds, fishes, shells, and other objects of natural history and coins, and in forming tables of plants and animals for the use of Dr. Wilkins. He began to arrange a catalogue of the English native plants which he had gathered, rather for his own use than with any immediate view of publication at present. He wrote to Dr. Lister, “The world is glutted with bungling;” “I resolve never to put out anything which is not as perfect as is possible for me to make it. I wish you would take a little pains this summer about grasses, that so we might compare notes.” The above resolution of our author is no doubt highly commendable, but the world has rather to lament that so many able men have formed the same determination, at least in natural science. If it were universally adhered to, scarcely any work would see the light, for few can be so sensible of the defects of any other person’s attempt to illustrate the works of nature, as a man of tolerable judgment must be of his own. This is especially the case with those who, like Ray, direct their aspiring views towards system and philosophical theory. Happily he did not try this arduous path, till he had trained himself by wholesome practical discipline in observation and experience. His first botanical works assumed the humble form of alphabetical catalogues. His and Mr. Willughby’s labours in the service of Bishop Wilkins were, indeed, of a systematical description, and accordingly the authors themselves were probably more dissatisfied than any other persons with their performance. They relaxed from these labours in a tour of practical observation through the west of England, as far as the Land’s End, in the summer of 1667, and returning by London, Mr. Ray was solicited to become a Fellow of the Royal Society, into which learned body he was admitted November 7th. Being now requested by his friend Wilkins to translate his celebrated work, “An Essay towards a Real Character and a Philosophical Language,” into Latin, he undertook, and by degrees accomplished, that arduous performance. The following summer was agreeably spent in visits to various literary friends, and in a solitary journey to the north. His former companion, Willughby, being just married, stayed at home; but Ray joined him in September, 1668, and remained for most part of the ensuing winter and spring.

The seclusion and leisure of the country, with the converse and assistance of such a friend, were favourable to the prosecution of a new subject of inquiry, which now strongly attracted the attention of our great naturalist—the theory of vegetation. The first step of the two philosophers in this little-explored path was an examination of the motion of the sap in trees; and the result of their inquiries, communicated to the Royal Society, appeared soon after in the “Philosophical Transactions.” Their experiments clearly prove the ascent of the sap through the woody part of the tree, which is easily detected by boring the trunks at different depths before their leaves are unfolded; and they observed, also, the mucilaginous nature of the flowing sap, “precipitating a kind of white coagulum or jelly, which,” says Ray, in a note preserved by Derham, “may be well conceived to be the part, which every year, between bark and tree turns to wood, and of which the leaves and fruits are made. And it seems to precipitate more when the tree is just ready to put out leaves and begins to cease dropping, than at its first bleeding.” The accuracy of the leading facts recorded by these ingenious men is confirmed by subsequent observers, who have further pursued the same subject, which is now sufficiently well understood. The sap originates in the liquid matters which are absorbed by the roots of plants; they enter the minute cells of the ends of the roots and permeate the cellular tissue. This sap ascends in the plant, assisted by the evaporation from the leaves. The sap ascends with considerable rapidity to the leaves, where it is subject to changes, the result of physiological action. It descends from the leaves, having had its chemical constitution altered, and is fit for the nutrition of the plant. The sap ascends through the cellular and woody tissue, especially in the layers of wood not more than two years old. The hard heartwood does not convey sap, but in some trees, like the poplar, sap moves in the very centre.

The elaborated sap returns from the leaves in a slow stream, through the delicate cellular structures of the bark, right down to the root, giving rise to the cambium layer, from the inner surface of which the annual layer of young wood is formed.

At this time Ray began to prepare for the press his “Collection of Proverbs,” a curious book in its way, by which he is perhaps better known to the generality of his countrymen, than by any other of his literary labours.