I copy an account which I gave elsewhere.

When the Royal Society was founded, the Fellows set { 22} to work to prove all things, that they might hold fast that which was good. They bent themselves to the question whether sprats were young herrings. They made a circle of the powder of a unicorn's horn, and set a spider in the middle of it; "but it immediately ran out." They tried several times, and the spider "once made some stay in the powder." They inquired into Kenelm Digby's sympathetic powder. "Magnetic cures being discoursed of, Sir Gilbert Talbot promised to communicate what he knew of sympathetical cures; and those members who had any of the powder of sympathy, were desired to bring some of it at the next meeting."

A Budget of Paradoxes, Volume I (of II) — Part 20

June 21, 1661, certain gentlemen were appointed "curators of the proposal of tormenting a man with the sympathetic powder"; I cannot find any record of the result. And so they went on until the time of Sir John Hill's satire, in 1751. This once well-known work is, in my judgment, the greatest compliment the Royal Society ever received. It brought forward a number of what are now feeble and childish researches in the Philosophical Transactions. It showed that the inquirers had actually been inquiring; and that they did not pronounce decision about "natural _knowledge_" by help of "_natural_ knowledge." But for this, Hill would neither have known what to assail, nor how. Matters are now entirely changed. The scientific bodies are far too well established to risk themselves. _Ibit qui zonam perdidit:_

A Budget of Paradoxes, Volume I (of II) — Part 20

"Let him take castles who has ne'er a groat."

A Budget of Paradoxes, Volume I (of II) — Part 20

These great institutions are now without any collective purpose, except that of promoting individual energy; they print for their contributors, and guard themselves by a general declaration that they will not be answerable for the things they print. Of course they will not put forward anything for everybody; but a writer of a certain reputation, or matter of a certain look of plausibility and safety, { 23} will find admission. This is as it should be; the pasturer of flocks and herds and the hunters of wild beasts are two very different bodies, with very different policies. The scientific academies are what a spiritualist might call "publishing mediums," and _their_ spirits fall occasionally into writing which looks as if minds in the higher state were not always impervious to nonsense.