To my esteemed Colleague and friend, honorable Fellow of the Royal Society Robert Boyle, from the bureau of Robert Hooke, Curator of Experiments of the same, regarding enactment of that most regrettable protocol in the service of God, King and Country against the Fellow Isaac Newton, penned in the year of our lord, 1684.
I write to you now with intelligence of the gravest nature and a proposal most severe. I pray that my words do not further estrange you from me and that you believe me when I assure you that the suggested action is profoundly necessary for the continuation and preservation of Good Science.
We have much discussed the great divide between Isaac’s experimentations and your own essential works, and so I have oft found myself at odds with you, for though much of his work is dubious in its moral principle, his studies have always proven most illuminative and have many times assisted my own researches. I fear, however, his most recent works have disturbed this precarious equilibrium, turning instead to most improper, perhaps blasphemous, ends; and I find myself left with no recourse other than to make it known to you in the hope that I might reawaken our previously close concord, which has lain dormant these long years, in service of a wholesale rejection of his creation which, I am of the firm opinion, has finally erred towards the abominable, and must be halted.
I recall with much shame that it was myself who pressed you so vociferously for restraint the last time this Protocol was enacted. It was I who begged patience, certain as I was that my work on Micrographia might have rendered a remedy for that most awful plague. It was I who warned that to enact a Protocol against the great city of London itself was a step beyond the rights of our position – but you were, as is so oft the case, correct in your steadfastness, and I confess purgation of all that most dangerous and unfit knowledge was both necessary and good. It was only through the Protocol that we were spared from that Dread emission, and I fear that such an act is once again required, though it is my fervent hope that on this occasion there is still sufficient time to limit the breadth of the poisonous act.
As well you know, despite Isaac’s standing as a Fellow within the estimable Society, his experiments persist in prying into such knowledge as we both know to be anathema to Good Science. His work on the vegetative propagation of metals has proceeded unabated these recent years, and I am now most certain that the fruits of his labor will lead to tragedy, death and damnation, if they are left to mature unchecked.
I have of late been a somewhat more frequent visitor to Isaac than you may have suspected, and I fear that of the many sins I have committed in my time upon this earth, this may be one of those I come most to regret.
I had, of course, no knowledge of the perilous extent of his experiments, and had I known such I would never have deigned to further associate myself with him, but his most recent letters promised work of a quite astonishing nature and – may god forgive me – my curiosity could not be assuaged without witness.
Upon his insistence I visited his laboratory in Trinity in a sanguine mood, though this was immediately disturbed by the damnable presence of that stunted dog he keeps, worrying my coattails as I approached the threshold. As is his wont, Isaac failed to notice my approach, preoccupied as he was with his work, and it was only by declaring myself most forcefully that he could be sufficiently distracted to acknowledge my presence.
Forgoing the customary pleasantries, he instead proceeded straight to his laboratory, wherein I saw he had a glass flask of great proportions – at least thirty gallons or thereabouts – within which there was an element of such overwhelming radiance! – that to look upon it directly was to dazzle the eyes, and throw the mind into confusion.
Composing myself, I queried Isaac on the nature of this creation, whereupon he explained with customary disinterest that he had finally perfected the work of Wilhelm Homberg, to produce what he termed the Arbor Philosophorum Perfecta.
I was naturally most intrigued, but despite my questioning he re-
-fused to elaborate, instead passing me a smoked glass that I might gaze upon his creation with greater clarity, and when I did so, I came to understand that what I was looking at… was a small tree, ensconced in a clear solution. At first I presumed it to be merely another work of dendritic silver as we have seen before, albeit one of surpassing quality and finesse. However, I soon came to realize this was something altogether grander, and profoundly abhorrent.
Its branches were exquisite, and delicate, swaying slightly from small eddies in the liquid, and they shone with every spectra. I must confess that to look upon it, one was filled with profound wonder at its exquisite elegance.
I professed as much to Isaac and he replied quite solemnly, “As are all of the Lord’s living works.”
This struck me as somewhat… incongruous, and gave me a moment’s pause, for though impressive, the tree was quite clearly mineral in nature, and as such must be lacking in that essential vitality that only the Lord God can bestow.
I presumed his words an unfortunate jest, but he then asked me if I would taste of its fruit.
I refused, of course, assuming the offer another of his odd japes. But his face was grave. He then opened the flask and reached inside, muttering as he did so: “de ligno autem scientiae boni et mali ne comedas in quocumque enim die comederis ex eo morte morier-
-is.”
Even I, steeped in worldly matters as I am, recognized The Lord’s words to Adam, and was much dismayed at the implication. Isaac then plucked the delicate fruit with ungloved hands and held it before me.
I began to not only doubt Isaac in that moment, but even fear him, for I knew he had finally transgressed the limits of anything within the bounds of mortal philosophy.
Until that moment, our encounter had been, if not typical, at least explicable. Mayhap Isaac had made a legitimate discovery, and was merely indulging in some grand performance before providing some less grotesque explanation. But such was not to be, for no sooner had I seen the fruit upon his palm than he tipped it into the waiting mouth of that cursed dog I had failed to see skulking at my feet.
Isaac’s eyes never left mine, but I could not help but watch as the wretched canine swallowed it. There was a moment’s stillness within which Isaac watched me closely, for my reaction was seemingly of more interest to him at that moment than the fate of the animal. And my reaction was – terror.
The dog remained motionless, at first seemingly unaffected by its unnatural feast, but as the moments passed I espied a growing torpor in its manner, with slowed breathing, sagging posture, and
drooping jowls.
It lay down as if to sleep, whereupon it grew even more peaceful and still. I almost believed it – dead, poisoned by my companion, but – then I saw something far more distressing. The creature was taking root.
Strands of its mottled brown hair were extruding downwards between the floor, seeking the dark earth below. Then, too, its back began to sprout, radiant branches unfurling and thickening before me, reaching upwards towards the sunlight with a seemingly insatiable desire.
The dog then opened one eye and stared at me, and this was the most disturbing thing of all, for that orb was also shimmering with that unnatural light. But more than that, it looked upon me and it knew me not as a beast knows its master, but as one man knows another. And though such a creature must by all natural law lack that essential and ephemeral anima that is required for such awful knowledge – I tell you here, Robert, it saw me, and it knew me.
I felt myself grow insensible at that violation, and before I could restrain myself I had grasped a heavy instrument with which I might dash its skull upon the floor! Isaac, however, intervened, and for the first time since feeding the animal that cursed fruit, he spoke, and bade me to remain calm. He then reached back to the flask with a smaller cup and decanted a portion of the solution into it.
Then, seemingly without concern, he poured it upon the rapidly growing monstrosity.
There was a brief hiss and a release of steam which occluded my vision entirely, quickly followed by a slight tugging at my trouser legs from which I recoiled in horror, fearing the creature had reached out to claim me in its insidious grip. But when the vapor cleared I found myself cowering from nothing more than that mange-ridden dog. No longer sprouting and burdened with knowledge, it was reduced to a mere beast once again.
Isaac laughed at this ignominious display and suggested I step away to recover, so that I might “better appreciate that which had been revealed to me.”
I instead took my leave and hurried out of not just his chambers, but the entire college, as fast as I was able.
Thus it is that I find myself writing this account for you, that you might better understand my concerns. No doubt you agree with me that I have witnessed something which is far outside that which we could in good conscience and understanding describe as Good Science, for if such a transmutation can be elicited from a lower creature devoid of soul or reason, I tremble to consider how it might affect the children of Adam, blessed as we are with greater faculty and insight for both good and evil.
I remain opposed, however, to any notion of violence against his
person. He is a prominent figure and his work – though misguided – is not wantonly evil.
I propose that we enact the Protocol but limit it only to his laboratory, destroying his research and correspondence, for, if we can end this digression from Good Science and divert him with more virtuous work, we might yet take possession of a newly ardent ally in our vigils. This is of course on condition that he never discovers our intervention, nor is left to work in such solitude again.
Robert, my dear compatriot, I implore you to consider my plea despite our recent disagreements, for if you fail to act I will instead be forced to intervene alone; and by god’s grace I know not if I hold the fortitude to do what would need to be done.
Pray reply with all celerity, for I fear that time is short in this matter.
Yours with the utmost respect and gratitude, for the sake of London, England, and for all of Christendom,
Robert