The Closet of Sir Kenelm Digby Knight Opened | Page 8

to make a bargain with the
strong man for himself and his co-religionists. As a matter of fact there
is no trace of his return at this moment. Not merely was his property in
danger, but his head as well. Yet he never repented of his policy, and he
carried it out, so far as might be, in his dealings with Cromwell a few
years later. And Henrietta Maria bore him no grudge on this score.
Exile in Paris meant friendly intercourse with, and consolation of the
Queen, but also scientific research. In 1651 Evelyn was visiting him
there, and being stirred by his enthusiasm into attending Fébur's
chemistry lectures along with him. Before that must have taken place
his pilgrimage to Descartes, who died in 1650. Apparently Sir Kenelm
had gone to Egmont as an unknown stranger; and it throws light on his
wide reputation as a man of ideas and a conversationalist, that into his
torrent of questions and speculation Descartes broke with, "You can be
none other than Digby." The English scientist's practical mind--for he
had always a practical end in view, however fantastic his
methods--showed itself in his counsel to the author of the _Discours sur
la Méthode_. Why all this labour for mere abstract speculation? Why
not apply his genius to the one great subject, the prolongation of human
life? Descartes, it appears, did not need the advice. He said the subject
was engaging his mind; and though he "dared not look forward to man
being rendered immortal, he was quite certain his length of life could
be made equal to the patriarch's." In fact, he was composing at the time
an _Abrégé de Médecine_, and popular report said he believed men
could live four or five hundred years. He died prematurely of too much
faith in his own medical theories.
In 1653 permission was given to Digby to return, on condition he
would not meddle with Royalist plots. He had been in communication
with Cromwell, and had done some diplomatic business for him in
Paris. On his return in 1654, and for the next few years, he was in the
closest relations with the Protector, thereby carrying out the principle
he had probably adopted from White, of a "universal passive obedience
to any species of government that had obtained an establishment." His
Royalist friends made an outcry, and so did the Puritans; but Digby was

confident of obtaining from Cromwell great advantages for the English
Catholics, and the Protector, it seems, fully trusted the intentions and
the abilities of this strange and fascinating personality who came to him
out of the enemy's camp. Delicate business was given into his hands,
that of preventing an alliance between France and Spain. Prynne, in his
True and Perfect Narrative, bitterly denounced Cromwell in "that Sir
Kenelme Digby was his particular favourite, and lodged at Whitehall;
that Maurice Conry, Provincial of the Franciscans in England, and
other priests, had his protections under hand and seal." Of Digby's
feelings towards Cromwell there is clear evidence. It seems his loyalty
had been questioned in his absence; and he writes from Paris, in March,
1656, to Secretary Thurloe: "Whatsoever may be disliked by my Lord
Protector and the Council of State must be detested by me. My
obligations to his Highness are so great, etc." And again, "How
passionate I am for his service and for his honour and interest, even to
exposing my life for him." The intimacy, begun on both sides in mere
policy, had evidently grown to friendship and mutual admiration.
The illness of which he died had already attacked him, and it was for
his health he went to Montpelier in 1658. His stay in that seat of
learning was made memorable by his reading to a company of eminent
persons his Discourse on the Powder of Sympathy, which has brought
him more fame and more ridicule than anything else. I have already
referred to the secret confided to him as a youth in Florence by the
Carmelite Friar from the East. When he came back to England he spoke
of the great discovery, and had occasion to use it. Howell--of the
_Familiar Letters_--was, according to Sir Kenelm's account, wounded
while trying to part two friends who were fighting a duel. His wounds
were hastily tied up with his garter, and Digby was sent for. Digby
asked for the garter-bandage, and steeped it in a basin in which he had
dissolved his secret powder (of vitriol). Immediately Howell felt a
"pleasing kind of freshnesse, as it were a wet cold napkin did spread
over my hand." "Take off all the plasters and wrappings," said Digby.
"Keep the wound clean, and neither too hot nor too cold." Afterwards
he took the bandage from the water, and hung it before