Glanvill, however, in his complacency with what has already been accomplished, is not misled into over-estimating its importance.  He knows that it is indeed little compared with the ideal of attainable knowledge.  The human design, to which it is the function of the Royal Society to contribute, is laid as low, he says, as the profoundest depths of nature, and reaches as high as the uppermost storey of the universe, extends to all the varieties of the great world, and aims at the benefit of universal mankind.  Such a work can only proceed slowly, by insensible degrees.  It is an undertaking wherein all the generations of men are concerned, and our own age can hope to do little more than to remove useless rubbish, lay in materials, and put things in order for the building.  “We must seek and gather, observe and examine, and lay up in bank for the ages that come after.”

These lines on “the vastness of the work” suggest to the reader that a vast future will be needed for its accomplishment.  Glanvill does not dwell on this, but he implies it.  He is evidently unembarrassed by the theological considerations which weighed so heavily on Hakewill.  He does not trouble himself with the question whether Anti-Christ has still to appear.  The difference in general outlook between these two clergymen is an indication how the world had travelled in the course of forty years.

Another point in Glanvill’s little book deserves attention.  He takes into his prospect the inhabitants of the Transatlantic world; they, too, are to share in the benefits which shall result from the subjugation of nature.

“By the gaining that mighty continent and the numerous fruitful isles beyond the Atlantic, we have obtained a larger field of nature, and have thereby an advantage for more phenomena, and more helps both for knowledge and for life, which ’tis very like that future ages will make better use of to such purposes than those hitherto have done; and that science also may at last travel into those parts and enrich Peru with a more precious treasure than that of its golden mines, is not improbable.”

Sprat, the Bishop of Rochester, in his interesting History of the Royal Society, so sensible and liberal—­published shortly before Glanvill’s book,—­also contemplates the extension of science over the world.  Speaking of the prospect of future discoveries, he thinks it will partly depend on the enlargement of the field of western civilisation “if this mechanic genius which now prevails in these parts of Christendom shall happen to spread wide amongst ourselves and other civil nations, or if by some good fate it shall pass farther on to other countries that were yet never fully civilised.”

This then being imagin’d, that there may some lucky tide of civility flow into those lands which are yet salvage, then will a double improvement thence arise both in respect of ourselves and them.  For even the present skilful parts of mankind will be thereby made more skilful, and the other will not only increase those arts which we shall bestow upon them, but will also venture on new searches themselves.